October Activity Post

[scfrankles.livejournal.com]

Welcome to the October activity post—this month it’s story time!

Yes, for the rest of the month we will be telling a spooky story together, comment by comment.



My esteemed co-mod has furnished me with an example, to explain how all this is going to work:



Person A (the mod) starts the ball rolling: Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson found a…

Person B adds a new comment: Nasty smell in the house where they believed lived their…

Person C adds their comment: Suspect. Looking in the kitchen they saw a...



So in each new comment we resolve the previous cliffhanger and leave one of our own for the next contributor. There’s no hard and fast limit for the number of words you can use but the game will probably work best if you make your addition relatively brief.

You are free to make as many contributions to the story as you like. However, once you have made a contribution, you must wait until at least two other people have had a go before adding your next comment.

Incidentally, please remember to put each new contribution as a new comment, not as a reply to the previous comment. And let’s aim for bringing the story to a close somewhere on Halloween itself! As we’re all in different time zones, perhaps by 08:00 UTC? (That is, by 8am on the 1st of November in the UK.)



And so, here is the first line of our spooky story:


It appeared Holmes and Watson's new client had a haunted…


And away we go!



As always, you needn’t take part in this activity if you don’t wish to. Once you’re a member, you can post what and when you want—as long as you keep to the 500 words or less wordcount and the ACD Holmes ‘verse. AUs, crossovers and fusions are all permitted, as long as the characters remain essentially recognisable as the original ACD versions.

Please see the profile for the full posting guidelines!

Comments

[thesmallhobbit.livejournal.com]

Corridor in their house. The servants complained they had heard. ..

[saki101.livejournal.com]

...low voices and rustling, as of silk and starched linens. The laundress was very clear on that point. The butler blushed. He was a fair-haired man and was nearly crimson when he took me aside and sotto voce added...

[scfrankles.livejournal.com]

...that he had been goosed right next to the mouldings. He pointed at the dado rail and I whipped out my lens to examine its carvings. I could just about make out these words: ...

[debriswoman]

"Never look backwards or you will fall down the stairs" I pondered over the neat italic script, the unusual slope of the letter "f" and the minute sketch at the end of the lettering, clearly depicting a frolicking....

[thesmallhobbit.livejournal.com]

faun. I had leant a little closer to see who (or what) the faun was frolicking with, when ...

[saki101.livejournal.com]

...Watson took a sudden step away from my side and tried to cover an exclamation with a cough. I glanced over my shoulder and was met by what I can only describe as an admonitory look. My eyes were flashing over his person and our immediate surroundings for a clue to his behaviour when...

[tripleransom.livejournal.com]

I heard a skittering noise from behind me, followed by...

[debriswoman]

the tinkling of tiny bells and the unmistakable and totally unexpected aroma of...

[okapi1895.livejournal.com]

...wet cat. "If our spectre is the neighbourhood Tom, Watson, I shall feel my valuable time and talents sorely wasted. Nevertheless, our next step is to...

[saki101.livejournal.com]

I had taken a step further away from Watson as I spoke and was gesturing with both my hands, as Watson reminds me I am inclined to do, when he startled again. I paused. Watson's eyes were fixed on my hands.

"A cat's digits are neither long nor dexterous and to extend them, he must unsheath his claws," Watson said through teeth that appeared to be clenched. "I am grateful that no claws are involved...as yet...

[thesmallhobbit.livejournal.com]

but I would beg you to look..."

He failed to finish his sentence as ...

[scfrankles.livejournal.com]

...I glanced at my hands. They were undergoing a strange transformation - soft, golden fur now covered all but the centre of my palms. I looked bemusedly at Watson, and then at the butler. Who grinned and...

[saki101.livejournal.com]

said, "This is what happened to the footman, sir, when I was a lad, but he was a tabby."

Watson gripped my shoulder. "Was?" he asked.

I would have made an enquiry on that point in a moment myself, but the progress of my apparent transformation had seized almost all of my attention. The little that remained was resisting an urge to stretch my neck back and rub the side of my head against whatever part of Watson I could reach.

"That was over twenty years ago," the butler explained, "of course, since then there have been...

[thesmallhobbit.livejournal.com]

... others. Oy, leave my boot laces alone!"

The last comment was addressed to me, as I had decided ...

[scfrankles.livejournal.com]

...to get down on my hands and knees and bite repeatedly at the laces. The game was afoot! And it was utterly fascinating. I was dimly aware of Watson attempting to catch my attention but I cared not. Suddenly though the butler threw a ball of string far away down the corridor. This was even more exciting than the laces - I scampered after it. But unfortunately - yet intriguingly - I ran straight into a...

[okapi1895.livejournal.com]

A dog named Carlo. Well, there was nothing for it, but to...

[saki101.livejournal.com]

...run up the tapestry. I perched on the brass rod from which it was suspended, claws firmly hooked into the fabric on either side of the metal and surveyed the corridor. It was an excellent vantage point. Below, the dog barked. I smiled at him. At least I felt as though I did. I could not be certain how my facial muscles were being affected by this unusual turn of events. The dog appeared to understand my expression. He pranced in agitation, tail awag, nails clicking on the polished floor and barked all the louder.

"Here now," the laundress scolded, seizing his collar and tugging him in the direction of the back stairs. "If you get mud on my antimacassars, you can forget about soup bones for a month."

She had a special understanding with the cook.

The butler looked at Watson. "If you don't require Mrs Childers attendance any longer." He let the sentence trail off.

Watson looked up at me. I ...

[debriswoman]

could tell the poor fellow was struggling to keep apace with events. I also suspected that my feline transformation had brought to mind the tragic events of ten years ago when...

[thesmallhobbit.livejournal.com]

we had lost a client up the chimney when a sudden shock had caused a similar change. Although on that occasion it had been a ...

[scfrankles.livejournal.com]

...more... ursine... transformation. It took us three days to remove the unfortunate Mr. Bagley's body from the flue and we both agreed we would never tell anyone of the origins of our excellent bearskin hearthrug. But what of my own bizarre situation? I leapt casually but stylishly onto Watson's head. We needed to interview...

[thesmallhobbit.livejournal.com]

the perfect explanation!

[saki101.livejournal.com]

...the land steward. I stepped daintily down onto Watson's shoulders and purred in his ear. While there, I gave it a lick, before meowing and pointing my nose in the direction of the hall window with its view of the formal gardens and the edge of the woods. Watson placed a steadying hand on my back and proceeded in the direction I had indicated. I felt his shoulders relax when I tapped the glass near where a thread of smoke indicated the location of the land steward's house a short distance inside the woods. That I retained my faculties was clearly a relief to Watson and I knew he would do his best to ensure I didn't become a winter cap, which might be a danger at the land steward's house if he was...

[debriswoman]

still subletting a room to his sister, Miss Daisy, the owner of an avant garde millinery shop in a nearby market town. Her experimental pigeon bonnets had been all the rage last spring and had featured heavily in the fashion pages of the London papers. Perhaps the danger would be lessened if he persuaded Watson to carry a...

[thesmallhobbit.livejournal.com]

bottle of sherry with which to distract her. However it is not easy to mime a bottle of sherry, with the result Watson decided I was telling him to take some ...

[scfrankles.livejournal.com]

"Skittles?" Watson nodded vigorously, almost dislodging me from his shoulder. "Of course, dear fellow - the very thing."

My friend seized a set that were handily resting on a nearby table - and began to juggle with them! I simply stared. The man is an enigma. Is there no end to his accomplishments? As the skittles flew ever higher, I admired the elegance of Watson's movements: his strength, his adroitness, his-- You know, Watson was quite right. If I was distracted to this extent, I'm sure Miss Daisy wouldn't be able to keep her eyes off him.

But it made me think. If Watson was going to present himself as a door-to-door juggler, perhaps I should go in disguise as...

[saki101.livejournal.com]

...a stray mouser looking for a new position. A careful look, and listen, around the stables might be a very sound second step after our visit to the land steward's house. Although, there might be some peril in leaving Watson behind with...

[thesmallhobbit.livejournal.com]

a lady, a set of skittles and potentially a new hat. Who knew where such attractions might take him. Fortunately at that moment there was a knock on the door. The butler hurried to open it to find ...

[scfrankles.livejournal.com]

...Mrs. Hudson on the doorstep!

"I've come to drop off Mr. Holmes's most stubborn collars, Mrs. Childers," she called.

The laundress blushed at this announcement of her laundering moonlighting but our landlady's attention had become diverted.

"Dr. Watson..?"

Mrs. Hudson's eyes were wide in surprise. Then suddenly they narrowed, and she began to approach us.

"Holmes," whispered Watson, "did you clean up your latest explosion in the sitting-room before leaving..?"

"Miaow..." I admitted.

Watson nodded grimly, and he swiftly effected our escape by climbing out of the window.

My mind now was awhirl. Could the fact my laundry was being done in this very house have anything to do with my transformation? I made my decision. There was no need to visit the land steward and to brave Miss Daisy after all. I patted Watson on the cheek and waved my paw. We would head straight to the stables!

But behind us, Mrs. Hudson was shouting. And oddly, it sounded like...

[saki101.livejournal.com]

...a neigh. Digging my claws deep into Watson's jacket for stability, I looked back over his shoulder. Mrs Hudson was indeed galloping in our direction with the butler bringing...

[thesmallhobbit.livejournal.com]

a spare saddle and bridle. Even though the transformation was not of my doing I suspected our landlady would still hold me responsible. Fortunately Watson appeared to be of the same opinion and turned towards the stables, but at that moment ...

[scfrankles.livejournal.com]

...from out of the stables, a Shetland pony came trotting towards us. "Lestrade?" cried Watson. But before we had a chance to confirm this was indeed our occasional colleague, the butler grabbed the pony, saddled him up and was off at a tiny gallop. I stared as they moved away - poking out of the saddle bags I could see...

[godsdaisiechain.livejournal.com]

... a very tiny faun (or perhaps a ferret, one never could be too sure when using feline eyes). Clearly, the best course of action would be to engage in pursuit. But just at that moment, I caught a waft of the most delicious aroma coming from a neighbor's kitchen and sprang off to investigate.

Watson, meanwhile....

[scfrankles.livejournal.com]

...was running in the direction of the equine Mrs. Hudson. She slowed to a trot and, with numerous apologies, my friend and colleague swung himself onto her back.

At the neighbour’s kitchen I found a freshly roasted leg of lamb. Grabbing it in my mouth, I dragged it back to the scene of the action and pointed it towards the house. To my satisfaction, Carlo the dog was attracted to the scent and came running out of the house, pulling Mrs. Childers with him. I miaowed in approval. It was as well that he should be here for the end. There was a theory I wanted to test.

I turned to view Watson and Mrs. Hudson. They were herding Lestrade, the butler and the strange creature towards a pond. Perfect. I gave an enormous yowl, and Watson glanced back at me to watch my frantic paw signals. The dear fellow nodded and urged Mrs. Hudson on.

Having no other means of escape, the butler plunged straight into the pond. And almost at once, the Shetland pony was a detective again! Lestrade grabbed the butler and held the struggling man tight.

Even from where I was standing I could hear Watson ejaculating in surprise. He sent himself and Mrs. Hudson into the pond too. I saw Watson tumble from her back and both briefly disappear under the water. And then Watson was standing up, holding the hands of our bedraggled but thankfully human landlady.

It was my turn to act. I pulled faces at Carlo and dashed for the water, dog and laundress lolloping after me. I dived in, and heard the larger splash of my pursuers too. I struggled in the water, fought to get to the surface— And then I didn’t need to fight. I could easily stand up in the shallow pond.

“Holmes!” cried Watson. “You’re back to normal!”

And now Carlo resurfaced in his original form too—that of our unfortunate client. Watson splashed over and restrained Mrs. Childers before she could try to escape.

“Thank you, gentlemen!” spluttered our client. “That evil ferret-faun has been haunting my family for generations demanding revenge for us cutting down his forest. It seems he finally found two willing accomplices in my butler and my laundress though—I believe they were hoping in return to take control of my estate. They changed me into a dog by using a bag of cursed laundry starch, made from vegetables grown in a graveyard and picked at midnight!”

Mrs. Hudson looked about with dangerous eyes. “Where is that ferret-faun?”

I could understand her displeasure. Laundry was not something to be trifled with and misused, no matter what your grievances.

“He’s gone,” grinned the butler. “Back to whence he came and waiting for the next generation.”

I groaned in frustration but my client smiled at me. “At least you have returned everyone to their true forms.”

“But that was nothing,” I said. “All that was needed was a way to dissolve the evil starch.”

Watson looked over from where he was holding the laundress, water dripping down his face.

He smiled at me.

“Indeed, Holmes. Everything has come out in the wash.”


The End

[scfrankles.livejournal.com]

And I've just realised I've broken my own wretched rules by adding a comment over 500 words long... *facepalms*

Let's move on, shall we?

[thesmallhobbit.livejournal.com]

Entirely justified, we'd never have finished it otherwise!

And congratulations on ending with such a great pun!

[debriswoman]

Of course...the fallen ferret-faun forest!
How could I not have seen?

[scfrankles.livejournal.com]

V. amusing :P

[saki101.livejournal.com]

Ah, this is brilliant and hilarious! (And thoroughly justifies the overage!)

It was all great fun!

[scfrankles.livejournal.com]

Thank you ^_^ And it was indeed ^^