volume fifteen — army!lock.

welcome welcome !

it’s been a while since our last post, since bonfire night actually. as much as we would have liked to post, there have been a lot of hindrances. exam season is upon us, sickness, personal issues, and amino simply not working. but after many .. many tries. we’ve finally got a post up.

if you couldn’t tell from the title, this weeks topic is army!lock (cough one of my favorites cough). we hope you enjoy !!

:warning: WARNING: mentions of violence and war :warning:

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introduction

moodboard

story one

artwork

story two

announcement

outroduction

moodboard one.

hi there kiddos, victor here! for this moodboard i decided to do a softer theme - the idea was that john goes to war and sherlock longs for him at home. they write each other constantly, and sherlock sometimes works a deal with mycroft and gets him home early .

story one.

John had discovered many things he hadn’t expected to when he ed the army. He discovered how much love for his home it could instil in him, and how he could get more homesick that he ever thought was possible. A camaraderie, stronger than anything, was discovered and John loved it almost as much as he hated it. Something John really hadn’t expected to discover was a man, devoid of any signs of belonging to an army, stranded in the middle of the desert.

When John found the man, he was sunburnt to a crisp, too weak to walk, and skinnier than any healthy thing should be. Against his better judgement and the wishes of his superiors, John hoisted the man over his shoulders and carried him back to camp, hoping and praying to every entity out there that he had not been too late. John couldn’t bare the thought of another innocent life being lost in the midst of this sandy plain where senseless slaughter had taken place countless times.

As it turns out, the man was quite resilient, more so than John had expected him to be. After weeks of careful watching and praying on John’s part, the man opened his eyes and groaned deeply, begging for water. John carefully helped the man drink some water before shoving food into his hands and asking him where he came from. The man eyed John while stuffing food into his mouth, and only spoke after he was done eating.

His name was Sherlock Holmes, and just as John suspected, he didn’t belong to an army. He had been traveling the world for the past two years, taking down the expansive net of a man named Moriarty. John listened to his tales with wonder, sitting by Sherlock’s cot anytime he wasn’t needed. Sherlock had just killed the last person alive that had worked for this Moriarty fellow, and was on his way home when he got caught in the desert during a storm. Surviving the storm had sapped all his energy, and had collapsed right where John had found him.

One day, John had quite an argument with his superiors. “He needs to leave, John,” they said, crossing their arms in front of their chest. “He’s holding us up and slowing us down. We need to start, and he won’t be able to keep up with us. He’s not even contributing anything. He’s not staying with us.” And that had been the end of the discussion. John knew better than to disrespect his superiors. He trudged back to Sherlock’s bedside, and flopped down on the chair, putting his chin into the palm of his hand.

“You can’t stay anymore, Sherlock. The superiors want you gone-”

“Because, obviously, they assume because I’m skinny and underfed that I’m too slow. And that I can’t contribute anything. Get me some real clothes, please, and some nice sturdy boots. I’d like to have a meeting with your superiors. I can change their minds,” Sherlock said, sitting up in bed. John leapt into action, hoping that Sherlock’s cocky-sounding statement would ring true. He had formed a close friendship with the man, and he would hate to leave him behind.

When Sherlock was up out of the bed and properly dressed, he was like a firestorm personified. He demanded that the leaders of the group have a talk with him, and when they said they were too busy, Sherlock just crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“You don’t have anything planned for the rest of the day. Don’t ask me how I know that, just listen. I spent the last two years disabling the network of the most influential criminal in this world, the Napoleon of Crime, if you will. I have killed hundreds of people during that time. I had to think five steps ahead, I had to predict their every move, and believe me, if I couldn’t do that, I’d be a dead man walking right now. So tell me, do you want me to stay and predict the movements of other armies, or do you just want me to leave so you can just wait for them to attack?”

They were surprised, to say the least, but they grudgingly accepted his help. “Only,” they growled out, “if you keep up. The second you fall behind or put us at risk, you’re out. You hear me?” Sherlock just replied with a snide comment, and a wave of his hand.

From that point on, Sherlock became their specialist on deciding what to do. He had an almost other-worldly ability to deduce what people were thinking and what they were going to do. Suddenly, John’s group was winning almost every battle they went into because of the meticulous plans Sherlock made for them. Sherlock became a part of their little family, a very important one, and everytime John’s superiors brought up the fact that Sherlock was amazing, John just smiled smugly and shoved his hands in his pockets. You did good, Watson.

artwork.

This drawing was inspired by the theme. At first I figured I should draw Mary or Sebastian out of curiosity on what it may look like - but last minute I ended up doing Sherlock, possibly on a mission to kill Jim? Anyway, it was made on a basic white piece of paper and a #2 office depot pencil.

a piece done by raven.

story two.

trigger warning: war

Muffled screams were all that he could hear as he turned around once again.

Well, at least that was what John thought, everything was really foggy. It could be just his mind though.

Completely disoriented as he is, John could pin an intrusive thought that was nagging him. A word.

‘What’.

A weird word, John thought.

At first it seemed like a name, but it didn’t quite fit.

After a while that ‘What’ turned into ‘What?’, and John realized there was a difference indeed.

He then realized that new word could help him in figuring out what was going on. Or had he been trying to it all this time?

He could feel his jaw move (or at least that’s what he thought it was called), repeating the word.

Soon after, another word came into his mind: ‘John’. Wait. That wasn’t correct. It was more like ‘John!’. Yeah, that fit.

But this time the word seemed a bit different, in pitch? He couldn’t pinpoint what but it was off. It didn’t even feel right. What kind of thought is screamed?

Oh.

It wasn’t a thought.

But, he wasn’t saying the word.

Something else was.

And that must mean he was somewhere.

That cleared his head a bit, and he was able to hear more insistently: ‘John, John!!’

Someone was calling for him. Wait, him? Yeah that was his name wasn’t it?

With that realisation came the thought, that if he was somewhere, with someone, then he must have some form.

Then came the pain.

Even when it wasn’t pleasant, it helped in focusing.

His vision cleared. Huh, he didn’t know it was foggy for starters.

A figure was before him, calling his name while putting pressure on his shoulder.

And oh boy did his shoulder hurt.

Screaming and the sound of explosions filled his ears, and John shot up from the flood, suddenly aware of the huge war zone he was in. Violence, blood. Death.

As soon as the idea entered his mind he froze. And a thousand feelings cursed through his body. Surprise, confusion, fear and then calmness.

That’s what was going to happen to him, he guessed.

He was starting to get light headed, and he staggered backwards.

The last thing he was aware of as darkness engulfed him was a pair of arms holding him by his armpits and heels of his shoes against the group as he was dragged away.

(A/N: In case it isn’t clear, this is my take on the battle in Afghanistan where John is shot on the shoulder. Hope you enjoyed!)

announcement.

we are opening up recruitments again ! all positions are open. if you’re interested in ing our team - refer to THIS post. thank you !! make sure you apply in time !!

thanks for reading! happy holidays :)

#theemptyhearse