Ah, a crossover between two of my favourite fandoms. “It’s Christmas!” *wink* The characters of Sherlock can be divided into two types of Hogwarts students – Type A: Students decisively belonging to a house, which the Sorting Hat would declare instantly. Type B: Divergent students, whom the hat would declare are “difficult, very difficult” to… Continue reading Which Hogwarts House Would Each Sherlock Character Belong To?
Two snippets of fan-fiction based on the last episode of BBC’s Sherlock, season 4 – The Final Problem. 🙂
Please read only if you’ve watched the episode.
How to see through your birthday surprise in four steps: Fish out the red herrings. (Pun intended 🙂 ) My birthday was on a Saturday, and when my best friends started to ask me twice or thrice when I was free to meet them on Saturday, my ever mystery-loving mind started to run through all… Continue reading Nineteen And (Hopefully) Wiser
Your shadow looms in the torchlight, It’s a sleepless night As you feel a shiver of glee down your spine Navigating thrill and danger incarnadine. Into a web of intrigue plunged, And the mundane expunged, You sift through facts and fancies, Trying to put everything together in one clear piece. You hurtle through arcane happenings… Continue reading Deduction
I was never one for watching TV shows, really. And I always thought that modern day adaptations of a tale so old would destroy the vintage charm and appeal it held on a reader such as me who always prefers reading the book over watching the movie. So whenever anyone would praise BBC’s Sherlock to… Continue reading I Want The Deerstalker Hat a.k.a I’m Sherlocked
I’ve read 65 of Agatha Christie’s novels. I remember how the first Christie I read, Death In The Clouds, blew my mind and made me sit for half an hour doing nothing but marvelling at how skilfully the author had woven the intricate plot. I had literally suspected every single person but the culprit. The… Continue reading My Little Grey Cells Are Mad About Christie!
He knocked at the door thrice Before I yelled, ‘It’s open!’ He hung up his raincoat and smiled, And extended a hand cold enough to be frozen. ‘Albert Swettenham, he said, But you can call me Al, I’m here to talk about Alfred – You know, the one who knew it all.’ ‘I’m afraid I’m… Continue reading Albert Swettenham