dulcimergecko

dulcimergecko

Coffee. Stat.

Hello! I'm a 30-something female living in the middle of Tornado Alley, USA. My pastimes include writing, art, researching random weird stuff and consuming copious amounts of caffeine to fuel my current writing project: a rodeo!lock AU titled 'The Devil's Blaze'.

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dulcimergecko·4 months agoPhoto

theshitpostcalligrapher:

inthroughthesunroof:

gallusrostromegalus:

tuba-jesus:

Hey look at the title for my school’s tube ensemble, where there are 9 tubas.

“Music Played On Wildly Inappropriate Instuments” is my favorite genre of music.

In case you’re wondering what this sounds like:

everyone was curious so here’s a version with sound 

Of course I’m thinking of ‘ A Magnificent Instrument’ by mycapeisplaid

dulcimergecko
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dulcimergecko·4 months agoText

Is anybody else having trouble w/ irc.slashnet.org?  Can anybody log into the Antidiogenes Club chat?

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dulcimergecko·6 months agoText

And how did Ned Hunter’s claim of being the victim of a setup factor in?  Hunter had stated that he’d only been smoking outside and heard raised voices the night Straker was killed, with no idea how he came to be found intoxicated and <i>inside</i> the barn the next morning.  It was the type of excuse that an irresponsible might try to justify his or her behavior…except that Sherlock had found a smashed and charred cigarette butt in Scotty’s stall on the same night that Scotty had gone crazy enough to require chemical restraint.  Sherlock hadn’t had a chance to examine the ash in Anderson’s lab, but its presence in a highly-flammable building plastered with ‘NO SMOKING’ signs was suspicious.  Not to mention how John’s interest in unusually aggressive bovine paralleled Sherlock’s own case in a way…

Excerpt from the upcoming chapter 24 of ‘The Devil’s Blaze 

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dulcimergecko·7 months agoText

“As for your work, you’re not going to solve anything if you end up in the hospital because you were too mule-brained to listen to your doctor!”

“You’re a veterinarian, not an MD!”

John pursed his lips, giving Sherlock a significant look.  “I was a soldier, too, Billy.  Do you <i>really<i> want to try me?  I can have you incapacitated and slung over my shoulders in a fireman’s carry faster than you can spit…”

Excerpt from the upcoming chapter 24 of ‘The Devil’s Blaze

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dulcimergecko·8 months agoText

He would have tuned them out as inconsequential, except that the words ‘red bulls,’ ‘Jack,’ ‘pony’ and ‘chute’ suddenly registered on his mental radar.  Sherlock looked up, excitement coursing through him at the possibility of overhearing something interesting in the group’s high-pitched, rapid-paced exchange.  A moment later, he frowned, shaking his head to dispel the odd sense of dizziness.  Eavesdropping (and analyzing) conversations was a trivial-enough skill that he could perform in his sleep, but at the moment it was proving a surprisingly onerous.  The voices kept fading in and out, making it hard to concentrate on what was actually being said.  

It must be due to the alien environment, Sherlock decided, giving his head another shake…  

Excerpt from the upcoming chapter 24 of ‘The Devil’s Blaze

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dulcimergecko·8 months agoText

After leaving the despicable Sebastian Moran behind, the two of them had set off to explore the fairgrounds with John acting as Sherlock’s personal tour guide.  John had kept up a steady litany of innuendo and Texas-specific cultural trivia as they walked.  Most of it was useless information Sherlock knew he would be deleting from his mental hard drive once the case was over, but he <i>had</i> enjoyed listening to John’s prattle on about different rodeo events and their historical roots as practical skills required for ranch work.  It was similar to the history of Eventing, back home.  The sport had its roots in comprehensive calvary tests until the World Wars made calvary  almost completely obsolete for combat purpose, (militia groups in the Darfur region notwithstanding)…

Excerpt from the upcoming chapter 24 of ‘The Devil’s Blaze

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dulcimergecko·8 months agoText

Alas, much to Sherlock’s chagrin, he’d discovered that his calculations concerning the aerodynamics of plastic poultry were no match for John’s sheer brute strength.

Though the sight of John’s flexing muscles had somewhat loosened the sting of his defeat.

After the rubber chicken debacle, the two of them had gone back to exploring the fairgrounds at Sherlock’s insistence.  The memory of John’s and his mysterious watcher in the stripping chutes was still fresh in his mind, picking at his brain not unlike like an equine being plagued by ectoparasites.  The metaphorical mental itch, combined with Ned Hunter’s mention of Straker’s uncanny luck, Moran’s comments about checking out the new stock, and Kitty Riley’s mere presence meant that there was a chance–however slim–that the culprit behind the mystery of the psychotic horses might be present somewhere nearby.  

As the afternoon wore on, however, Sherlock found it more and more difficult to keep any eye out for possible clues…  

Excerpt from the upcoming chapter 24 of ‘The Devil’s Blaze

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dulcimergecko·9 months agoText

“Alright, Billy, just…calm down, alright?” John began soothingly, holding up both hands.  “We came here to have fun–”

“And because you said this would be a prime target for PRESS and SHARK to possibly attempt to sabotage some animals in an attempt to undermine the credibility of stock contractors and rodeos in general.”   

“–that too,” John agreed, briefly stealing an exasperated glance at the ceiling…

   Excerpt from the upcoming chapter 24 of ‘The Devil’s Blaze

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dulcimergecko·9 months agoText

Sherlock’s nose wrinkled in annoyance as one of the cowgirls shrieked again.  Part of him wished that he could ignore them completely–his temples and the space behind his eyes were throbbing fit to put a blacksmith’s hammer to shame–but the demands of The Work superseded everything else.  Anything here could be potentially be the key to cracking the case.  He hadn’t become the world’s foremost Consulting Equestrian Expert by ignoring subtle and disparate pieces of information or blocking out unpleasant stimuli.  He certainly wasn’t going to start now.  

Besides, it was only transport… 

Excerpt from the upcoming chapter 24 of ‘The Devil’s Blaze

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dulcimergecko·9 months agoText

The phrase ‘Cocksucking Cowboy’ abruptly registered his mental radar, immediately bringing with it the delightful mental imagery of John on his knees in front of him.  Sherlock shook his head again, forcing himself to focus back on The Work and not his libedo.  Why was he feeling so thick?  Granted, he seldom drank unless it was related to The Work, but cocktails were common enough at British racing events.  It shouldn’t have taken the mention butterscotch schnapps or Baileys for him to realize that the cowgirls were discussing nothing more nefarious than suggestively-named cocktails and possible venues for clubbing later… 

Excerpt from the upcoming chapter 24 of ‘The Devil’s Blaze’

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dulcimergecko·9 months agoText

John had surprised him by challenging him to a watermelon-seed-spitting contest, which was something he’d never even heard of before.  He’d retaliated by suggesting the two of them enter the rubber-chicken-tossing contest, only to discover (much to his chagrin) that his calculations for the aerodynamics of plastic poultry were no match for John’s sheer brute strength.  During their explorations, they’d wandered past a food truck selling ‘deep-fried bubblegum’ something  Sherlock had dared John to help him try in the name of scientific curiosity.  John had only managed two bites of the concoction before giving up with the complaint that he could actively feel his teeth dissolving.  Sherlock had been forced to agree, which was saying something, considering the amount of candy floss he’d already eaten.  Contrary to its name, ‘deep-fried bubblegum’ actually consisted of marshmallows that had been dipped bubblegum flavored batter, fried and topped with whipped cream, cake icing and hundreds-and-thousands… 

Excerpt from the upcoming chapter 24 of ‘The Devil’s Blaze

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dulcimergecko·9 months agoText

mostlydeadlanguages:

image


This remarkable letter of unknown provenance surfaced recently in the cuneiform collection of the University of West Wessex.  Addressed to Azirapil from a Mr. “Crawly,” it appears to be begging for the other’s return to Ur from a western journey with another individual, Abiraham.  The relationship between the two (brothers? business partners? friends?) is unknown, and all three names are quite unusual.  The letter also mentions a Mr. Ea-naṣir in Ur; if this is the same Ea-naṣir as the merchant mentioned in UET V 22, 29, 71, and 81, then the original letter would be dated to the Larsa period, around 1800 BCE.  However, this particular copy appears to be a scribal exercise; the writing is relatively unskilled, and the cuneiform is Neo-Assyrian in form.  It is unclear whether the text is based on a historical letter, or if its unusual names and content were invented for scribal practice.


Text:

Tell Azirapil [1]:

Thus says “Crawly” [2]:

When will your time in the West be finished?  Abiraham [3] seems very dirty, and I am weary [4] in Ur.  [There is] a talented mirsu-maker [5] on Wide Street!

Watch out, for I have acquired a new friend.  His name is Ea-Naṣir [6], and I may play wickedly with him if you do not return.  

Come quickly!

Keep reading

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dulcimergecko·9 months agoText

Sherlock rolled his eyes.  “What would you have me do, John?” he exclaimed, throwing both hands up in frustration.  Why couldn’t John understand his urgency?  “I’m running out of time!  I have two different horses who have clearly been exposed to some sort of external agent and both run the risk of being euthanized if I can’t solve the case!”  

Excerpt from the upcoming chapter 24 of ‘The Devil’s Blaze

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dulcimergecko·9 months agoText

He saw John’s fists tighten in his peripheral vision and the movement, as small as it was, resulted in Sherlock automatically fading back as much as he could on the narrow staircase.  

He’d been small as a child.  That, combined with his superior intelligence had made him a prime bullying target for his so-called childhood peers.  More than one ‘playdate’ or riding camp had resulted in black eyes, ruined clothes, and skinned appendages, punctuated by taunts that only a baby would go crying to an adult for help.  Tom Knisley had been the one to teach him how to block a punch and quickly put a tormentor on the ground with a bloody nose or a broken wrist.  Pride had Sherlock raising his chin and squaring his shoulders as John advanced… 

Excerpt from the upcoming chapter 24 of ‘The Devil’s Blaze

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dulcimergecko·9 months agoText

luna-xial:

*smacks head repeatedly on the table*

Even w/ my very detailed chapter notes, I find myself re-reading previously posted chapters of rodeo!lock to make sure I’m not contradicting myself! 

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dulcimergecko·9 months agoText

“Right, you, sit.” John ordered, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the noise of the fan’s blades.  He punctuated his order with a firm shove downwards on Sherlock’s shoulders, pressing down hard enough to make Sherlock’s knees buckle, not unlike how one would encourage a particularly slow dog to sit.  As soon as Sherlock was seated, John shrugged off his backpack, letting it land on the floor with a thump.  “Right,” he announced whisking off Sherlock’s hat.  “Let’s take a look at you…”

Excerpt from the upcoming chapter 24 of ‘The Devil’s Blaze

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dulcimergecko·10 months agoText

Sherlock flinched, trying not to grimace as a sudden shriek of laughter ripped across his already-sensitized hearing like acrylic nails on a chalkboard or a metaphorical hoof pick digging into his cerebrum.  The last four hours had been spent in a delightful whirlwind of walking around, exploring.  Sherlock had insisted on touring the stock facilities, which John had agreed to, on the condition that Sherlock join him for a watermelon-seed-spitting contest afterwards.  They’d both gotten rather sticky and he’d been treated to the glorious sight of John removing his shirt to rinse off an especially large dribble of juice.  He’d subsequently challenged John into entering the rubber-chicken-tossing contest, only to be humiliatingly beaten, (apparently his calculations for the aerodynamics of plastic poultry were no match for John’s sheer brute strength), and John had convinced him to try deep-fried bubblegum.  Contrary to its name, ‘deep-fried bubblegum’ actually consisted of marshmallows that had been dipped bubblegum flavored batter, fried and topped with whipped cream, cake icing and hundreds-and-thousands, (he’d made sure to send Mycroft a picture of that as well)…  

Excerpt from the upcoming chapter 24 of ‘The Devil’s Blaze

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