cloudmouth

Oh, you're serious?

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Prodigal, Part 3 by cloudmouth, literature

Literature

Prodigal, Part 3

Watson's gone. To be more precise, we've gone from Watson. From the dog track, hitched a ride in another cab and spent the next few hours navigating around to London's more touristy locations—the London Eye, Piccadilly Circus, and the Barbican. At each location—besides Piccadilly, where the noise was too much for Jim and he had to return to the cab—we left an envelope marked for Sherlock in Jim's handwriting. I hate that he won't tell me what's going on. I want to shake it out of him. Rattle him until he tells me it's a big con. Maybe that's why he isn't revealing the plan. Fat chance. I was going to try for a new cab

Prodigal, Part 2 by cloudmouth, literature

Literature

Prodigal, Part 2

I check to make sure the rifle isn't loaded before I begin handling her. Nothing in the chamber. Click. Click. I settle the scope gently into the ring bottoms, then attach the tops, and put the finishing touches to Sonja, adjusting her to my preferences faster than the mirrors on an auto. Hold her up to my sniping eye and tuck the buttstock snugly against my shoulder. Ponce's one window looks into his sitting room two stories below and across me. It slides dead-center of the crosshairs. Perfect. I hate sniping from a rooftop. I'd much rather perform a warm, indoor assassination from an adjacent window. The wind up here makes things

Prodigal, Part 1 by cloudmouth, literature

Literature

Prodigal, Part 1

Jim's swinging his feet on the examination table, like a drool-lipped toddler waiting for his mother to get through her hair appointment. Toddler in an eight-hundred-pound suit, thereabouts. He made me pay as much for the one I never wear. It falls to me to listen, take mental notes. Jim taught me that. Paper trails and electronic footsteps—they're like breadcrumbs. Not that mentally checking off items on a list is any less of a fucking bother, but I've learned to get used to it. Malignant. Terminal. Metastasis, infratentorial growth, rapid glial production, cerebral hemispheres— "English, Ponce," I growl. Taking mental n

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Prodigal, Part 3 by cloudmouth, literature

Literature

Prodigal, Part 3

Prodigal, Part 2 by cloudmouth, literature

Literature

Prodigal, Part 2

Prodigal, Part 1 by cloudmouth, literature

Literature

Prodigal, Part 1

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The Haunted House - Part 2 of 2 by petshmm, literature

Literature

The Haunted House - Part 2 of 2

Note: PLEASE READ BEFORE TEXT! All "Typos" in this story are intentional in order to showcase the work as close to its original form as possible. This story was written when I was 7 years old. Also, the dialogue is not separated into paragraphs, as it was not written in such a manner. Also, the name Stephine was written to be pronouncèd (Ste-fuh-nee). &#

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BUSTED by cloudmouth, visual art

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cloudmouth

About cloudmouth

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Artist // Student // Literature

Aug 17, 1989
United States
Deviant for 16 years
She / Her

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My Bio

fcdghjk

Current Residence: Memphis
Operating System: Vista
MP3 player of choice: iPod Touch
Shell of choice: Hermit crab - a purple one
Skin of choice: Lion pelt, all draped over my shoulders and shit
Personal Quote: "Maaaaaaaaaaaan!"

Favourite Visual Artist

Degas

Favourite Writers

James Joyce, Tom Stoppard

Favourite Games

Devil May Cry series

Favourite Gaming Platform

PS3

Tools of the Trade

Wacom Bamboo Fun Tablet, Sketchbook, Mechanical Pencils, Prismacolor Markers

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cloudmouth

Apr 20, 2012

I'm uploading that fic I wrote

0 min read

IT'S FINISHED.  FINALLY. I don't like posting it all over the place, but I really like the way it turned out. So, I'm going to post "Prodigal," a Mormor fic from the BBC Sherlock fandom, on here. :D

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cloudmouth

Apr 5, 2012

EVERYONE I AM SORRY

0 min read

THE REASON I HAVE NOT BEEN HERE IS BECAUSE I HAVE BEEN BUSY TUMBLRING MOSTLY ABOUT THIS BEAST OF A FANFIC I HAVE BEEN WORKING ON OH GOD IT'S CONSUMING ME LIKE A MONSTER DETAILS ON MY TUMBLR BABBYES I LOVE YOU ALL http://doctorxxxmaximus.tumblr.com/ ^^^My Tumblr Click on the link that says "Those Two Guys I Ship So Hard" for details if you are interested. It's a BBC Sherlock fic (pairing:  Mormor, type:  angst) Based off of this other fanfic that literally made me cry for two hours and rethink everything I held dear: http://madlorific.livejournal.com/22790.html I have an Archive of Our Own account, and will be posting the finished