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pimprevster
08 January 2013 @ 04:02 pm

John Watson is a fascinating creature. Such a simple man with so many intricacies. With one look I can determine his history and his current state of mind, but - and I almost regret to say this - his emotions are a mystery. I can determine nothing of his opinions toward people and, although I know what he has been through, understand not a sliver of the emotional impact of his experiences. To these circumstances, an ordinary person might say, "How could I understand? I wasn't there."

But I am Sherlock Holmes. I have always been able to envision the steps of other humans, easily. No one is a mystery to me. No one but Dr. John Watson.

Many times I have contemplated why I put up with John's presence in my vocational affairs. His medical knowledge proves useful at times, but hardly ever in solving the cases. The inconveniences far outweigh the benefits. It defies all logical reasoning that since the first time John accompanied me through a case, I have not been able to pursue the solution to another without him. This is not a physical condition, but a mental one.

I have experimented with this predicament. I agreed to assist the incompetent Lestrade in finding the culprit of one of his petty crimes, and began my investigation in secret. The first night I spent on the divan in the corner of our flat, curtain drawn, thinking as I normally do. When I saw the morning light shining on the arm opposite my position, I found I had come to no hypothesis whatsoever. Without the simple concept of John Watson being in my confidence, I had been reduced to a simpleton, a figure of meaningless abstraction sitting motionless on the couch for seven hours and accomplishing nothing.

John Watson is in almost every way an obstacle to my efficiency, but absolutely necessary to my productivity. This contradiction is a mystery I have yet to solve. To add another shade of intrigue to this mystery, I have developed an inexplicable inclination to the thought that I will maintain my necessity for John even after I solve it. I am afraid of the thought that I will not. It is the first fear I have ever known. My only comfort is in deducing that since John is not in my confidence regarding his own mystery, I will not be able to solve it. This is not a foolproof deduction. The subconscious has unusual ways of working that may surprise me with a solution at any moment. Therefore, the fear is constant in my mind.

If John Watson knew I was fearful, he would not allow me to withhold the reason. I cannot understand why he cares for me; I only know that he does. It infuriates me not the have the explanation as I always have, the crucial connection between knowledge and purpose that makes sense of anything, the bridge to understanding. Throughout all of my life I have been faced with blatant questions and been able to answer them - even the most complex - within the space of a week. Today I am faced with an obscure multitude of questions, each indistinguishable from the next and entirely uncontrollable, forcing themselves into my thought processes one after another without allowing me a chance to cogitate on one of them no matter what I try. John Watson has created a haze in my mind that can only be cleared by the company of the man himself. That is why he is a necessity to my work and to my survival.

But how did he create the haze, and why does it remain?

I do not want to know the answer, no matter how it exasperates me not to have it. I do not want to solve the mystery known as John Watson. I want the mystery to stay by me for the rest of my life, inextricable, reminding me that I am not all powerful and that there is hope for the human race. That the seemingly simple man I share a flat and a career with is undeniably vital to me; that I am not burdened by, but grateful for his existence.

That the events I pass off as inconveniences are complements of companionship meant to be appreciated, and that the empty spaces where my understanding of John runs short are not deficiencies in my mental processes, but natural perplexities that are impossibly and beautifully designed to make a person extraordinary.

-SH

 
 
pimprevster
22 August 2012 @ 09:08 am
I don't usually post my sob stories so I'm sorry for this,
but oh my goodness I don't have ideas for any of my stories and it is hurting my soul not to update.
HELP, SOMEONE
Please. Dx
 
 
pimprevster
22 August 2012 @ 09:01 am
The outside world isn’t visible beyond the surface. I am trapped inside a rippling box.

Drifting, weightless.

Sliding and twisting through a crystal-clear labyrinth of colors. The bottom is indistinguishable against the ever-changing haze of blue, but it is there. The shape of my shadow is welcomed by it.

In this shape I see a spirit of its own.

In this shape I see nothing.

In this shape I see everything.

In this shape I see beauty where it hasn’t been recognized before.

I see the calm outline of an infinite being, omniscient, never to share its secrets even if it had a way. For shadows have always been here, each one different but one in the same. Dark and untouchable.

A shadow has borne witness to everything that has ever happened on this world.

In the water my shadow is hazy, as if it would alter and fade into something meaningless at any moment. Like the white crystals reflecting off a billion unseen surfaces, creating patterns on the walls.

Bubbles rise. Sometime I must come back to the surface. Some year...

For it feels as though I’ve been gliding for ages.

Maybe I will rise as a primitive outsider to an impossible environment, left centuries behind by the unstoppable charge of evolution.

Maybe I will rise and keep rising, rising, all the way up to the universes beyond imagination, because I had forgotten the danger of beauty and in it, forgotten time itself; every one of my senses lost to the wonder of the water once and for all.

At every turn, my shadow and I explore a place new and wondrous.

In reality it’s the same path over and over again, but the waves like to play, and at every turn they will find a new path, a unique variation, to make certain my journey back is not the same.

Finally I find the pathway home, though it’s different from what it was last time.

The metallic kiss pulls away from my lips. The burn is gone from my lungs, though it was never really there to begin with, for I had not felt it when the water and I were one. The steps are sun-warmed and rough against my feet.

I have risen.

Nothing has changed except myself.
 
 
pimprevster
05 August 2012 @ 12:35 pm
Title: Sick and Sicker, well aren't we a pair?
Author: pimprevster
Fandom: The Used
Pairing: Bert/Quinn
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Bert knows he won't live long, if he keeps up the bullshit he does to his body. He makes a friend who is actually able to help him. But it turns out that Quinn is sick too, and he didn't even ask for it.
Warning: Drug abuse.
Notes: Constructive criticism makes me very happy.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters; only the story.

Chapter 1Collapse )


 
 
pimprevster
22 July 2012 @ 12:15 pm
Title: Darkness Surrounding
Author: pimprevster
Fandom: Avenged Sevenfold
Pairing: Brian/Arin
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A plague has befallen the city. One jagged scar torn across Arin's back marks him for death. Ten attacks, ten lines, and he will never be seen again. The strange part is that the assaulting darkness seems all too human.
Notes: Constructive criticism makes me very happy.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters; only the story.

Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4

The haze branched into tendrils upward, shaping feet, constructing the tendons of a leg, coating the black muscle with sleek skin until the figure it formed was a little over six feet tall.Collapse )
 
 
 
pimprevster
TITLE: Evening Festivities
AUTHOR: pimprevster
FANDOM: The Used
PAIRING: Bert/Quinn
GENRE: Slash
TABLE: 9 - Historical
PROMPT: 01. The Middle Ages
RATING: PG-13
WORD COUNT: 2335
SUMMARY: Lord Alleman makes a late-night call for his steward to assist him with taxes for the manor. He ends up helping out with something else instead.
NOTES: I know that Quinn's last name is actually spelled 'Allman'. I changed it to make it seem more Middle Age-ish.
Constructive criticism is always welcome. Also, I tried my best to make this realistic for the time period without using super boring dialogue, but I'm no expert. So if you catch anything that doesn't seem to fit, please let me know! I would really appreciate it. ^^
There's a good chance I will add a second part to this.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters and I am not using them for profit, but for practice.

“You have more nicknames for me than Jepharee Howard has for his whores.”Collapse )


 
 
pimprevster
13 July 2012 @ 08:23 pm
Title: Darkness Surrounding
Author: pimprevster
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A plague has befallen the city. One jagged scar torn across Arin's back marks him for death. Ten attacks, ten lines, and he will never be seen again. The strange part is that the assaulting darkness seems all too human.
Disclaimer: Not real. Never happened, I don't know or own anything here.
Notes: Constructive criticism makes me very happy.

Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3

Standing in front of those exquisite double doors in a plain gray T-shirt and a pair of jeans, Arin fancied himself the rugged interloper of a royal meeting. He pushed in the polished ivory doorbell for a fearful second before jamming his hands back in his pockets as if he would infect the household with penury if he touched anything else.Collapse )


 
 
pimprevster
10 July 2012 @ 07:52 pm
Title: Darkness Surrounding
Author: pimprevster
Rating: PG
Summary: A plague has befallen the city. One jagged scar torn across Arin's back marks him for death. Ten attacks, ten lines, and he will never be seen again. The strange part is that the assaulting darkness seems all too human.
Disclaimer: Not real. Never happened, I don't know or own anything here.
Notes: Constructive criticism makes me very happy.

Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2

He was starting to believe that the sobs would never die down, that Arin would keep gasping for air until he disappeared, gasping for life...Collapse )

 
 
pimprevster
03 July 2012 @ 02:34 pm
Title: Darkness Surrounding
Author: pimprevster
Rating: PG
Summary: A plague has befallen the city. One jagged scar torn across Arin's back marks him for death. Ten attacks, ten lines, and he will never be seen again. The strange part is that the assaulting darkness seems all too human.
Disclaimer: Not real. Never happened, I don't know or own anything here.
Notes: Constructive criticism makes me very happy.

Prologue
Chapter 1

Arin sat up slowly, wincing at the new stripe of pain that had been tallied across his back. He reached back to run his fingers over the barely moist, leathery scar. Two of them now. Two lines in a matter of three days.Collapse )


 
 
pimprevster
30 June 2012 @ 10:40 am
Title: Darkness Surrounding
Author: pimprevster
Rating: PG
Summary: A plague has befallen the city. One jagged scar torn across Arin's back marks him for death. Ten attacks, ten lines, and he will never be seen again. The strange part is that the assaulting darkness seems all too human.
Disclaimer: Not real. Never happened, I don't know or own anything here.
Notes: Constructive criticism makes me very happy.

Prologue

The lights went out in the chapel. Every candle and chandelier extinguished. Pitch black. Too much like the first night. The first time... Arin trembled, hugging his arms close to him as the room turned cold. He felt two other arms around him and was about to panic again when he realized that they were mortal arms.Collapse )