So...I recently finished reading Moriarty the Patriot. And. I had a lot of feelings, a lot feelings generally, but Charles Dickens the homing pigeon is stuck in my mind. Even more specifically, I’ve thinking about the sorts of notes that Mycroft Holmes, Director of Military Intelligence and all-round stern, unflappable superior could have been sending to Albert James Moriarty, former Earl, now languishing in ill repute in the Tower of London.
The conclusion I’ve come to? Facts about homing pigeons. Hear me out.
I feel, and maybe this is just me, but I feel that Mycroft is about as emotionally constipated as it is possible to be and still remain upright. He doesn’t want to feel, so he does not. But hey, Albert is charming. Albert is clever. Albert can keep up with Mycroft, maybe even get a few steps ahead of him. Albert is his M, his trusted subordinate; Albert is manipulating him from the very beginning into some larger scheme Mycroft can only catch glimpses of, but maybe it’ll be interesting, so he just sits back and allows it to happen.
But somewhere along the way, whoops-a-daisy, Mycroft has feelings about Albert. He has not identified them as of yet, but they are positive, usually, and they are strangely sore, when Albert falls from grace and decides that he wants to be locked away in the Tower of London like the melodramatic thespian he’s always been. But what is one to do, when one of the, like, maybe three people one cares for is punishing himself for crimes that, while heinous, had really good motives?
Why, write him letters and send them via homing pigeon, obviously. Never let it be said that Albert is the only one capable of being dramatic here.
But what does one write to such...an acquaintance? subordinate? friend?.....perhaps a stronger word Mycroft dare not even think, lest he bring misfortune down upon them both?
Albert strews around some bread, left over from his lunch, for the cooing pigeon on his windowsill before he liberates the little roll of paper from the case attached to its leg. He unfurls it carefully, slowly, blinking as he reads and then re-reads, something close to laugh tickling at the back of his throat.
Did you know that in the year 1870, a homing pigeon made the flight from Perpignan to Brussels in a mere ten hours?
The note is unsigned, but the handwriting is familiar.
sinxe demon ragayha has been around gor a long time and is also very charismatix and talkative and involbed in human society she just jas been around at a lot of popular events, she probbaly had a fling with queen elizabeth when she wa din her 20s, shes just done a lot in hrt lifetime for a bit of fun
I'm the king of my own land
Facing tempests of dust, I'll fight until the end
Creatures of my dreams raise up and dance with me
Now and forever, I'm your king ⸺ ♪
Psst, AU lore below ₊˚⊹♡
They were born in the same celestial river. They emerged one day together, only to find themselves on opposite banks, separated by the currents.
Yein leads the Court of Sparrows and provides divine guidance in times of uncertainty. They are the guardian of lost souls and undiscovered secrets. They symbolize progress, perseverance, and protection. Sparrows sighted in unusual places or numbers late at night is thought to be a sign of their presence. They can be most easily found in the spring and summer months, enjoying warm nights and the singing of insects.
Sacheo rules the Court of Crows and dwells in the cold morning fog. He lords over the barren places in the woods, emerging only to hunt. He is believed to be drawn to misguided souls, capable of smelling any malice in their hearts. He symbolizes stagnation and decay, and the inevitability of death. His presence is tied to corvids mourning for their family or fireflies shining at their brightest. He is most dangerous in the autumn and winter months.
Sometimes you just have to be a little annoying to the creature that keeps launching herself off your head every time she sees one (1) bird outside
[Video description: a 2 month old peachick stands on the back of a recliner, looking out the window. A human hand touches a single tail covert feather and every time the bird immediately whips around to preen the feather before returning to looking outside. At the end, the bird gets spooked by something outside the window and leaves]
It’s late. Scar is already asleep, and distantly, Jimmy imagines he can hear that cat Tango found for him meowing to him. Elsewhere, Fwhip is—doing nothing Jimmy cares about, thank you—and the sky is clear tonight, so he supposes Joel must be content. Grian had gone to make base with more of the strangers and strangely familiar, and Jimmy is here to hang up his hat and go to bed.
When he turns around, there’s a small yellow bird perched on his hatstand.
“Oh, you—go away,” Jimmy says, irritated.
The bird doesn’t speak, but Jimmy hears what it’s trying to say: if they’re here, that means it was real. If Jimmy knows them, and they know Jimmy, that means it was real. If it was real, that means everything else is too.
Jimmy crosses the room to stick his hat on his other pillow instead of the hatstand. With a surprisingly lovely song, the yellow bird flies off the hatstand and lands on the hat.
“Shoo,” Jimmy says. “Even if it were all real. Even if he’s here, and Tango’s as good as all those memories say, and—you don’t gotta stick around me, you know. Shoo. Besides, this all still has time to be a stupid dream.”
The bird sings sadly.
“Ugh,” Jimmy says, flopping in bed. “Even if it is all real, it’s not time yet anyway.”
The bird hops over to where Jimmy is flopped in bed and rests its head against Jimmy’s cheek. Outside, there’s a ranch he’s building for someone he met in a dream, and there are poppies in a vase downstairs, and Grian said that Jimmy couldn’t escape him, and Jimmy’s not sure that Grian knows what he meant when he said it.
The bird chirps sadly again.
“…it’s not your fault anyhow. I shouldn’t yell,” Jimmy says. “It’s hardly your fault everyone else—well.”
The bird chirps one last time before flying out the window. In Jimmy’s head, it’s gone to find Tango, or maybe Scott. Jimmy watches it.
“If I’m going to have to check the water tower for cod, I’m not taking it to Joel,” he says, as though there’s any logic to that whatsoever. “Do you know how much fun I’ll get made of for doing that? Nu-uh, no way.”
He blows out the candle. The room is dark. He goes to sleep, and he dreams of past lives. They aren’t so bad as all that, but he’d prefer they stay there, if it’s all the same anyway.