Title: Observations on Sentinels and Guides in Victorian London
Author: RyuuzaKochou
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Length: 89,181
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: None listed
Verse: Crossover: Ritchie films/The Sentinel
Author's summary: A Victorian era AU where Sentinels and Guides are members of everyday society. Starring Sentinel! Holmes and Guide! Watson.
Reccer's comments: Blissful, glorious fic. Amazing sucks you in and refuses to spit you out fic. I just... How do you even describe something so deliciously, wonderfully good? Fic that grips you from the first sentence and leaves you panting for more? There are 89k+ words of this fic and I *still* wanted more. And I don't even like crossovers. And haven't seen The Sentinel. But that doesn't matter at all because it's just so well written and everything is neatly laid out for you and god. Such epically good fic.
Snippet: Watson paused for a moment on the docks, taking in the intimidating skyline of the city of London. The Farsight had been small enough to gently slip into the mouth of the Thames, so Watson didn’t have to go through a lot of paperwork with any officials. He took a deep breath (regretting it slightly, as he was on the rather pungent docks), his cane in one hand and his medical bag in the other and walked into the city. Every step he took almost physically hurt and not because of his leg. It was like a weight was dragging his back to the docks. Watson thought maybe a part of him wanted to remain with the Farsight, because it had been the first time in a very long time he had felt truly safe. But he knew he could not linger there. He had to face this. So he forced himself to move onwards. After so many hardships, one more burden to carry barely registered.
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Mere minutes later a dishevelled and scruffy dark haired man surged onto the docks, breathing hard, his eyes darting fiercely left and right. He was so unbalanced by what he had felt that he made a critical error, and stretched out with his senses. This was a mistake in the putrescent air of the Thames mouth. He slipped into fugue.
By the time he was brought out of it, and much to his chagrin, whatever had pulled him here was long gone.
Author: RyuuzaKochou
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Length: 89,181
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: None listed
Verse: Crossover: Ritchie films/The Sentinel
Author's summary: A Victorian era AU where Sentinels and Guides are members of everyday society. Starring Sentinel! Holmes and Guide! Watson.
Reccer's comments: Blissful, glorious fic. Amazing sucks you in and refuses to spit you out fic. I just... How do you even describe something so deliciously, wonderfully good? Fic that grips you from the first sentence and leaves you panting for more? There are 89k+ words of this fic and I *still* wanted more. And I don't even like crossovers. And haven't seen The Sentinel. But that doesn't matter at all because it's just so well written and everything is neatly laid out for you and god. Such epically good fic.
Snippet: Watson paused for a moment on the docks, taking in the intimidating skyline of the city of London. The Farsight had been small enough to gently slip into the mouth of the Thames, so Watson didn’t have to go through a lot of paperwork with any officials. He took a deep breath (regretting it slightly, as he was on the rather pungent docks), his cane in one hand and his medical bag in the other and walked into the city. Every step he took almost physically hurt and not because of his leg. It was like a weight was dragging his back to the docks. Watson thought maybe a part of him wanted to remain with the Farsight, because it had been the first time in a very long time he had felt truly safe. But he knew he could not linger there. He had to face this. So he forced himself to move onwards. After so many hardships, one more burden to carry barely registered.
------------------------------------------------------
Mere minutes later a dishevelled and scruffy dark haired man surged onto the docks, breathing hard, his eyes darting fiercely left and right. He was so unbalanced by what he had felt that he made a critical error, and stretched out with his senses. This was a mistake in the putrescent air of the Thames mouth. He slipped into fugue.
By the time he was brought out of it, and much to his chagrin, whatever had pulled him here was long gone.
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