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Fill for kinkmeme's Ghost Story prompt, as well as for much newer Halloween prompt.
Really? I am really posting my halloween fic already? Well, yes. ^^ Guess why. Mainly because it is multi-chapter (so far it looks like five or six parts, but as I know myself, it could be more). And I really, really want to post the second part on Halloween's eve.
I'm fond of ghost stories. I have weak spot for them, for the real old-fashioned ghost stories. Not for horrors. Since nowadays, horrors are mostly gore slashers, which I doesn't mind, but ... horror, true horror, need tense spooky atmosphere, which will make you shiver with fear even though you know there will be ghost/monster/madman/something waiting behind the corner to "boo" at the hero! Not a runaway, clinicaly insane serial killer who eliminate the bunch of high-schooler one by one, however creative he could be. He can be there, of course, but you need to be afraid.
So, I'll be aiming for similiar feeling in this creation of mine.
Warnings: Tintin/Haddock established relationship. Fluff(ish).
this part part two part three part four part five part six [next parts pending] I would try to post it weekly, but I can't promise.
Nothing could compete with September in England.
Definitely not when it comes to creepiness.
The rain is almost constant, the cold penetrating, the sunlight absent for most of the day and the overall climate is just plain gloomy.
(And when you will take a stroll in moors, you will be expecting the Hound.)
The Moonshire Manor was antique building with foundations from age long before Queen Victoria has been born. But apparently it was converted during the reign of her. It resembled enormous, indefinable, annoyed creature crouching in the forest above the town. The darkness of early night only added the air of threat to the house.
It was eerie.
Captain Shuddered. Even though long retired, he still was an old salt and, as any mariner, superstitious to the core.
“Hmm.” Tintin stretched his arm high and craned his neck. Typical exercise of his after long car ride. “This house certainly has unique atmosphere.”
Archibald gazed at him.
Tintin looked back. “Captain?”
“Yer won’t get me inside this.”
The ginger shot a glance at the supposedly haunted manor and then he smiled back at his friend. “Captain,” he used his most innocent tone, “are you afraid?”
“Oh, look at it.” Professor got out of car. “It is marvelous. Breathtaking.”
“What?!” Archibald cried out.
Cuthbert hastened towards the rose bed. “I have never seen such beautiful specimens of Rosa Gallicanae.”
Tintin giggled. Leave it to Professor to don’t care the slightest for time and environment.
Snowy looked at the manor with skepticism. It smelled old and promising, but above else there was certain unknown smell, seeped deeply into the house. And that smelled of troubles.
“Cuthbert!” Doctor Ackerley, younger brother of Lord of Moonshire, spread his arms in welcoming gesture. “My dear friend. You are finally here.”
“Ackley. Good to see you again.” They both shook their hands vigorously.
“How was the journey? No problems, I hope.”
“Emblems of pope? No, I haven’t seen such a thing.”
Ackerley patted Professor on shoulder with wide grin. “Start up your hearing aid!”
When Cuthbert was fumbling with the setting of his handy (yet always switched off) device, Ackerley turned to Tintin and Archibald. “You two must be Cuthbert’s friends.”
“Nice to meet you, sir. My name is Tintin.” The ginger politely accepted stretched hand and shook it with his captivating smile.
“I’m Archibald Haddock. But everybody call me Captain.”
“Friends of my friend are friends of mine. Welcome to Moonshire family estate.”
They were given three rooms in the oldest wing of manor with remarkable view to autumnally colored forest and with old, massive furniture from oak wood. Since electricity was not yet installed in the house, they had to use oil lamps. Archibald felt like inside some penny dreadful. And for some unknown reason, he was anxious. He tossed and turned on the stone-hard mattress in enormous four-poster bed for whole night.
“What do you think, Captain?” Tintin rummaged through his suitcase. “About the proverbial English hospitality?”
“Well.” Archibald seated himself on his boy’s bed. “This house creeps me out.”
The ginger laughed. “Oh, come on. This house is exceptional example of old traditional English manor, though I admit it is rather …”
“Creepy?”
Tintin hurled his blue sweater at him. “Peculiar.”
“Oh. Peculiar. Right.” Captain grinned from behind the piece of clothes.
Tintin giggled and looked tenderly at his older lover. “It was nice from Professor to take us along.”
“Yea, I would love to thank him. Where is he, anyway?”
“I presume he is exploring the garden.”
“Is it really safe to let Cuthbert wander around?” Archibald asked. “Yer know, he’s rather prone to being kidnapped.”
“Do not worry about him.” The ginger finally found his notebook. “He has Snowy as his guard.”
“Oh great. So we will have to launch a hunt for eccentric deaf professor and disobedient white fox-terrier.”
“Come on!” Tintin chuckled.
Captain grinned back. And then yawned so powerfully that he almost disjointed his jaw.
Tintin raised his eyebrow in question.
“Sorry, lad. Must’ve been the peculiarity. I didn’t sleep exactly well.”
“How come?” Tintin asked, seating himself on Archibald’s lap.
“Probably just the change of place.” Captain smiled at his boy and pulled him further in his embrace. “Yer know me.” But his eyes were clearly saying: I missed yer breathing.
Tintin gave him soft peck on bearded cheek. “You surely will sleep better tonight.”
“I doubt so, since I’ll be alone.”
“Oh, you flatterer.”
Archibald hummed and kissed Tintin.
The ginger sighed contentedly, but pressed one finger on Captain’s lips. “We should better stop. Somebody might walk in on us.”
“Hmpf. Then let them burst with jealousy.”
Tintin chuckled. “No.” He freed himself from Archibald’s embrace. “Will you join me in exploring this house library? I’m sure there will be lots of interesting book. And …” The ginger added, spotting Captain’s protesting inhalation. “…comfortable sofa to take a nap in.”
Cuthbert walked around the spacious garden of Moonshire Manor, stopping here and there to observe late blooming flowers, mumbling for himself. Snowy was running around madly, but every once a while, he returned at Professor’s side to check the man. He got important mission to protect his masters’ friend. Tintin trusted him with this.
This place was unlike home. It felt so different. Almost uninhabited, unkempt, slowly rooting away. Snowy could smell that.
Frankly, he was delighted he needn't stay inside the house. Not only because the garden was enormous with many interesting new things to explore, but … The house was unfriendly. It smelled queer. After breakfast, before Tintin entrusted him with the Quest ‘Protect Professor’, he sneaked inside room in which Captain was staying. Snowy still didn’t understand why his masters pretend they are not a couple. But, oh well, that was not the problem. No.
That room is dangerous.
He does not want Captain stay there.
Captain should sleep by Tintin’s side, that’s where he belongs.
Snowy noticed intruders and jerked forward with threatening barks to chase those daring butterflies away from Professor.
author's notes
Slow-paced start. ^.~ But do not worry, I'm just warming up.
x I'm well aware I draw rather misrepresent picture of England, but ... What else would you expect from classical Sherlock Holmes tales fangirl?
x And when you will take a stroll in moors, you will be expecting the Hound. I said it above, didn't I? (I situated Moonshire just acroos the moors from Baskerville hall. Yeah.)
x Sailors (and actors) are the most superstitious human on the whole world.
x OK, so, some species of rose are still blooming in early autumn, but I am not exactly sure if it is the Rosa Gallicanae.
x Ackerley (or Ackley for short) is Calculus schoolmate from University. (I needed some reason to get them to England, thus creating an OC was inevitable.)
x Penny dreadful is amazing read. Really. In our family cottage is stock of 'Evening under lamp' editon of penny dreadful from early 50's. I have endless fun reading those, they are so plain, simple, naive and gripping,and sooo dull LOL I just can't resist them. ^^
x This story takes place after 'Calculus affair'. You might deduce it from the remark that Professor is rather prone to being kidnapped.
Really? I am really posting my halloween fic already? Well, yes. ^^ Guess why. Mainly because it is multi-chapter (so far it looks like five or six parts, but as I know myself, it could be more). And I really, really want to post the second part on Halloween's eve.
I'm fond of ghost stories. I have weak spot for them, for the real old-fashioned ghost stories. Not for horrors. Since nowadays, horrors are mostly gore slashers, which I doesn't mind, but ... horror, true horror, need tense spooky atmosphere, which will make you shiver with fear even though you know there will be ghost/monster/madman/something waiting behind the corner to "boo" at the hero! Not a runaway, clinicaly insane serial killer who eliminate the bunch of high-schooler one by one, however creative he could be. He can be there, of course, but you need to be afraid.
So, I'll be aiming for similiar feeling in this creation of mine.
Warnings: Tintin/Haddock established relationship. Fluff(ish).
this part part two part three part four part five part six [next parts pending] I would try to post it weekly, but I can't promise.
The Mystery of Moonshire Manor (part 1)
Nothing could compete with September in England.
Definitely not when it comes to creepiness.
The rain is almost constant, the cold penetrating, the sunlight absent for most of the day and the overall climate is just plain gloomy.
(And when you will take a stroll in moors, you will be expecting the Hound.)
The Moonshire Manor was antique building with foundations from age long before Queen Victoria has been born. But apparently it was converted during the reign of her. It resembled enormous, indefinable, annoyed creature crouching in the forest above the town. The darkness of early night only added the air of threat to the house.
It was eerie.
Captain Shuddered. Even though long retired, he still was an old salt and, as any mariner, superstitious to the core.
“Hmm.” Tintin stretched his arm high and craned his neck. Typical exercise of his after long car ride. “This house certainly has unique atmosphere.”
Archibald gazed at him.
Tintin looked back. “Captain?”
“Yer won’t get me inside this.”
The ginger shot a glance at the supposedly haunted manor and then he smiled back at his friend. “Captain,” he used his most innocent tone, “are you afraid?”
“Oh, look at it.” Professor got out of car. “It is marvelous. Breathtaking.”
“What?!” Archibald cried out.
Cuthbert hastened towards the rose bed. “I have never seen such beautiful specimens of Rosa Gallicanae.”
Tintin giggled. Leave it to Professor to don’t care the slightest for time and environment.
Snowy looked at the manor with skepticism. It smelled old and promising, but above else there was certain unknown smell, seeped deeply into the house. And that smelled of troubles.
“Cuthbert!” Doctor Ackerley, younger brother of Lord of Moonshire, spread his arms in welcoming gesture. “My dear friend. You are finally here.”
“Ackley. Good to see you again.” They both shook their hands vigorously.
“How was the journey? No problems, I hope.”
“Emblems of pope? No, I haven’t seen such a thing.”
Ackerley patted Professor on shoulder with wide grin. “Start up your hearing aid!”
When Cuthbert was fumbling with the setting of his handy (yet always switched off) device, Ackerley turned to Tintin and Archibald. “You two must be Cuthbert’s friends.”
“Nice to meet you, sir. My name is Tintin.” The ginger politely accepted stretched hand and shook it with his captivating smile.
“I’m Archibald Haddock. But everybody call me Captain.”
“Friends of my friend are friends of mine. Welcome to Moonshire family estate.”
They were given three rooms in the oldest wing of manor with remarkable view to autumnally colored forest and with old, massive furniture from oak wood. Since electricity was not yet installed in the house, they had to use oil lamps. Archibald felt like inside some penny dreadful. And for some unknown reason, he was anxious. He tossed and turned on the stone-hard mattress in enormous four-poster bed for whole night.
“What do you think, Captain?” Tintin rummaged through his suitcase. “About the proverbial English hospitality?”
“Well.” Archibald seated himself on his boy’s bed. “This house creeps me out.”
The ginger laughed. “Oh, come on. This house is exceptional example of old traditional English manor, though I admit it is rather …”
“Creepy?”
Tintin hurled his blue sweater at him. “Peculiar.”
“Oh. Peculiar. Right.” Captain grinned from behind the piece of clothes.
Tintin giggled and looked tenderly at his older lover. “It was nice from Professor to take us along.”
“Yea, I would love to thank him. Where is he, anyway?”
“I presume he is exploring the garden.”
“Is it really safe to let Cuthbert wander around?” Archibald asked. “Yer know, he’s rather prone to being kidnapped.”
“Do not worry about him.” The ginger finally found his notebook. “He has Snowy as his guard.”
“Oh great. So we will have to launch a hunt for eccentric deaf professor and disobedient white fox-terrier.”
“Come on!” Tintin chuckled.
Captain grinned back. And then yawned so powerfully that he almost disjointed his jaw.
Tintin raised his eyebrow in question.
“Sorry, lad. Must’ve been the peculiarity. I didn’t sleep exactly well.”
“How come?” Tintin asked, seating himself on Archibald’s lap.
“Probably just the change of place.” Captain smiled at his boy and pulled him further in his embrace. “Yer know me.” But his eyes were clearly saying: I missed yer breathing.
Tintin gave him soft peck on bearded cheek. “You surely will sleep better tonight.”
“I doubt so, since I’ll be alone.”
“Oh, you flatterer.”
Archibald hummed and kissed Tintin.
The ginger sighed contentedly, but pressed one finger on Captain’s lips. “We should better stop. Somebody might walk in on us.”
“Hmpf. Then let them burst with jealousy.”
Tintin chuckled. “No.” He freed himself from Archibald’s embrace. “Will you join me in exploring this house library? I’m sure there will be lots of interesting book. And …” The ginger added, spotting Captain’s protesting inhalation. “…comfortable sofa to take a nap in.”
Cuthbert walked around the spacious garden of Moonshire Manor, stopping here and there to observe late blooming flowers, mumbling for himself. Snowy was running around madly, but every once a while, he returned at Professor’s side to check the man. He got important mission to protect his masters’ friend. Tintin trusted him with this.
This place was unlike home. It felt so different. Almost uninhabited, unkempt, slowly rooting away. Snowy could smell that.
Frankly, he was delighted he needn't stay inside the house. Not only because the garden was enormous with many interesting new things to explore, but … The house was unfriendly. It smelled queer. After breakfast, before Tintin entrusted him with the Quest ‘Protect Professor’, he sneaked inside room in which Captain was staying. Snowy still didn’t understand why his masters pretend they are not a couple. But, oh well, that was not the problem. No.
That room is dangerous.
He does not want Captain stay there.
Captain should sleep by Tintin’s side, that’s where he belongs.
Snowy noticed intruders and jerked forward with threatening barks to chase those daring butterflies away from Professor.
author's notes
Slow-paced start. ^.~ But do not worry, I'm just warming up.
x I'm well aware I draw rather misrepresent picture of England, but ... What else would you expect from classical Sherlock Holmes tales fangirl?
x And when you will take a stroll in moors, you will be expecting the Hound. I said it above, didn't I? (I situated Moonshire just acroos the moors from Baskerville hall. Yeah.)
x Sailors (and actors) are the most superstitious human on the whole world.
x OK, so, some species of rose are still blooming in early autumn, but I am not exactly sure if it is the Rosa Gallicanae.
x Ackerley (or Ackley for short) is Calculus schoolmate from University. (I needed some reason to get them to England, thus creating an OC was inevitable.)
x Penny dreadful is amazing read. Really. In our family cottage is stock of 'Evening under lamp' editon of penny dreadful from early 50's. I have endless fun reading those, they are so plain, simple, naive and gripping,
x This story takes place after 'Calculus affair'. You might deduce it from the remark that Professor is rather prone to being kidnapped.
no subject
Date: 25/10/2012 21:24 (UTC)From:Oh, I love to play wiht the atmosphere of my ghost stories. Building it up, picking just the right words. And doing such a thing in foreign language, I found quite challenging.
Snowy. ^^ Go, you little rascal, you are so fabulous! XD
I love autumn. It is delightfully changeable season. One moment it is warm and bright, almost summer-ish and the next is gloomy and raw and then, without warning, there is (early)winter. It's like: Oh-heck-what?! Where is the sun?! Plus, it is the best time of year for horror stories. ^~
Oh yes, Jeremy Brett ... *dreamy sigh* But the Eligible Bachelor is not the best movie to start with his Sherlock adaptation. In fact, it is the most ... strange (I simply can not find better word to describe) episode of the whole series. Though, it is really gripping, right?
no subject
Date: 26/10/2012 18:33 (UTC)From:I bet it was. Really, I am so impressed with your language skill. I can't imagine trying to write a story in a different language, I would totally fail. Credit to you <3
Eligible Bachelor, yes I did find it slow and strange at the start. I wasn't sure what was going on since it must've covered a lot of story in the previous series. Moriarty was dead, apparently, but I gave it a chance and it got better and better. I did enjoy it. I caught the end of an episode beforehand; The Problem With Thor Bridge, which seemed interesting, then Bachelor came on. I could see the difference in poor Jeremy.
no subject
Date: 26/10/2012 21:33 (UTC)From:I ... I have the expression of cat that got all the cream.
Thank you. ^^
Granada Sherlock adaptation is incredible. Thanks to the fact that they had to expand Doyle's short stories to lenght suitable for one episode. And they did amazing job. Eligible Bachelor is in fact really short, and lot of the TV plot was added (alongside with that LSD-ish feel), yet it came out as one of most unforgettable episode.
And the difference in Jeremy is ghastly. It is not so apparent when you watch the serie episode by episode, but when I compare first season with the last ... man, it's ghastly.
no subject
Date: 26/10/2012 22:21 (UTC)From:Well, I guessed the 'visions' were the result of his opium problem? I'm no Sherlock expert, BBC is my thing, but I'm 90% sure I heard that Sherlock was an opium user. In BBC version he wears patches for nicotine addiction.
Jeremy, bless his soul... he looked thinner and pale in 'Thor Bridge'. When I saw it I recalled your comments about his illness. In 'Bachelor' he looked much healthier.
no subject
Date: 27/10/2012 08:05 (UTC)From:*purrs*
Well, Sherlock is heavy smoker. You recall that scene with three patch problem in BBC version? In original stories it is three pipes problem. He often stayed up whole night, smoking pipe after pipe and contemplating mysteries at hand. And I cannot say that Holmes is drug addict, but ... he took cocaine. Don't forget that in Victorian era, cocaine was considered to be "recreational" drug. Yet Watson disapproved and apparently (it was not exactly detailed in stories) Holmes had given up those drugs. This was really nice interpreted in Granada adaptation. Few times he was in disguise in opium dens, so I guess he experimented with opium as well, but ... his true addictions are mysteries and conundrums which make his brain work beyond full speed.