#Angelo Sarni

[pier-carlo-universe]

Festa del Ringraziamento a Mirabello Monferrato: una giornata tra tradizione, agricoltura e divertimento

Domenica 17 novembre 2024: mercatini, mostre e intrattenimento per tutta la famiglia

Domenica 17 novembre 2024: mercatini, mostre e intrattenimento per tutta la famiglia. Il Comune di Mirabello Monferrato celebra la Festa del Ringraziamento domenica 17 novembre 2024, un evento dedicato alla tradizione agricola e alla comunità locale. Piazza della Libertà e Piazza San Michele si trasformeranno in un centro di attività per grandi e piccoli, con esposizioni, mercatini e momenti di…

[sunken-standard]

New Drabble meme with fantastic options? How about: 41, 81 and 145? Separately is fine ( I say far too casually to be believed) or together (I shrug) ya know. Whatever works for you...

Take notes, sweetheart./ Excuse me forfalling in love with you./ What’s the biggest lie you ever told?

(This fell out of the badfic tree andhit just about every trope on the way down.  In the same ‘verse as Chapter 35 of Ficlet Cemetery)

*

Win a Mystery Date with SherlockHolmes! the splash page to John’s blog read.  The wholebackground was a high-res picture of Sherlock (John had changed theformat again, making it more like one of those trendy think-piecemagazine blogs that you had to scroll forever just to get past thedamn header), deerstalker tugged down low and coat lapels held closedover his face, leaving just his eyes visible, electric blue andintense as always.  He must have been in the sun a bit before thepicture was taken, she could just make out a few errant freckles (theexistence of which he vehemently denied) dusting his cheekbones.

Would not mind waking up to thatevery morning, she thought, then remembered that she did, infact, wake up next to that three or four mornings out of seven. Except the one she woke up to usually had his face smashed into thepillow with drool crusted in the corner of his mouth and Tim Burtonhair.

“I’m telling you, you need to doposters,” Molly said, shifting the phone against her ear so shecould type.  "How did you get him to agree to it?“

Mary laughed on the other end.  "Youreally think we told him?  Seriously though, it was his idea.  Seemslike he’s got a stalker.”

“Oh, that’s just Anderson,”Molly dismissed, typing a reply to one of the new comments on herlatest video.

“No, a real one,” Sherlocksaid from directly behind her.  She jumped, shouting as her phoneclattered onto the keyboard.

“Where did you even come from?”she accused, picking her phone up.  "Sorry,“ she apologizedto Mary.

"They have these new things calleddoors.  Rather frivolous, I doubt they’ll catch on,” Sherlocksaid, dragging ‘his’ chair over and flopping into it, nudging her outof the way of the keyboard.

“Well, I believe that’s my cue. Damien will be up from her nap soon, anyway,” Mary rung off.

Molly set her phone down and turned toSherlock, who was, as always, too close for comfort.  "So youhave a stalker,“ she said.  She wasn’t going to get her computerback anytime soon.

"Actually, you have astalker.  I started getting threats after that stupid YouTube video.”

“That was two months ago!  You’rejust telling me now?”

“I do get quite a lot of threats. Didn’t notice at first.  You’re perfectly safe.  Well, for now, atleast, but that’s why we’re nipping this in the bud.”

“So how is a fan going on a datewith you going to catch my stalker?”

Sherlock looked at her askance,obviously waiting for her to catch up.

Oh.  Of course.  "I’m going to winthe contest, aren’t I?“

Sherlock tipped his head and went backto typing.  In her comments, while logged into heraccount.  That tit. "We’re filming it and live-tweeting it, too. Mary said something about cross-promotion or advertising or…  Idon’t know, I stopped listening after 'scavenger hunt.’”

“So… this wasn’t your idea?”

“Using you as bait was.  The restwas all Mary.  She’s better at this sort of thing than I am.”

“Because she’s a woman?”  Itwas nicer than saying 'because she’d actually been on a date.’

“Because she’s an assassin. She’s got more experience with ambushes.”

*

“Oh for—would you stop lookingaround like that?  This is a date.  We are on a date. Not a stakeout,” Sherlock hissed from behind his menu.

“But it is a stakeout,”Molly said, tone measured.  

“Mary, God’s sake stop laughing,by the time you’re done editing there’ll be fifteen seconds of usablecontent.”

Mary coughed and forced her face intosomething serious.  "Just read the consolation prize card.“

Sherlock sighed and looked heavenward,pulling a card from inside his jacket.

"I swear his suits are like aTardis.  He carries all this stuff around and you can never tell. He’s got like a cricket bat, an espresso machine, and a badger inthere, it’s ridiculous,” Molly said quietly to Mary.  "Prettysure he’s got like half a pipe band and an entire double-decker busin his coat.“

"If you’re quite finished?”Sherlock said.  He plastered on a fake smile.  "And ourthird-prize winner in the 'Win a Mystery Date with Sherlock Holmes’contest is MarkOfTheBeast420—"

“…isn’t that Mrs. Hudson?”Molly whispered to Mary.

“No, she’s 221BlazeIt,” Marycorrected.

“Ah, right.”

Sherlock raised his voice a little toshow his displeasure with being interrupted (git; served him right)“—who gets dinner for two at Angelo’s in central London andyour choice of pink phone case or pocket-magnifier from theScienceOfDeduction store.”

“Where there’s always a candle onthe table,” Angelo said, leaning into the frame in front ofSherlock to place a candle conspicuously on the table while smilingnervously into the camera.

“Yes, thank you, do remember toorder off-menu, no request too exotic,” Sherlock said as Angelostepped back.  He stuck the corner of the card into the lit candle,flames quickly crawling up the edge to consume half of it before hedropped it off to the side (which happened to be onto the plate ofone of the diners at the next table over).

It was going to be a long day, Mollythought.

*

“—passes for two and a copy ofThe Man Who Made Vermeers.  I might actually like to readthis,” Molly said, flipping the book around and looking at theback cover.

“I have it at home, you can borrowit,” Sherlock said.

“Is it any good?”

Sherlock bobbed his head and did alittle wiggle that indicated 'not bad.’

Molly shrugged and set the book down,then tried to act natural as she walked to her mark.  "Oh look,our next clue,“ she said.  It was a typographic poster on aneasel; Mary didn’t really go all out.  Budget constraints.  

”'What’s the biggest lie youever told?’  Really?“  Sherlock scowled at Mary.

"Size doesn’t matter,” Mollyanswered quickly, wanting to beat him to the punch on just one of theclues.

“Wh—?”

“The question, aren’t we doing thething?  So, ah, something small like Vienna sausages?”

“No,” Sherlock said slowly,“I think you need to go a bit deeper than that.”

Molly opened her mouth, then closed itand shook her head.  She shared a look with Mary; too easy.

Sherlock closed his eyes and clenchedhis jaw.

*

“So you really think it’s a goodidea to bring my stalker to the place I work,” Molly said asthey went through the main doors of the hospital.

“We’ll spot him from the roof. And Mary says it’ll make a great texture shot.”

*

“How long do we have to be uphere?” Molly asked, fists balled in her cardigan.  It had been anice day, but the weather had turned overcast and a fine mist of rainhad begun to fall.

“Until the stalker shows.  Nextbus is in five.  Probably on it,” Sherlock said.

Mary had turned the camera off to savebattery, moving to the far end of the roof to call John to check in.

“Honestly, I don’t know why weneeded this plan in the first place.  There have to be easier ways ofcatching a stalker in the act.  And getting blog traffic.  I mean, wecould have just turned it over to the police, let them handle it.”

“Yes, because we both know howcompetent they are.”

She was cold, she was tired, and shewas feeling a bit bitchy.  "Did everything have to be soelaborate, though?  I mean, maybe he had to work today or somethingand wasn’t even following us.  Or, I dunno, maybe it’s just sometroll.  Maybe you’re overreacting to the whole thing.  You don’t haveto be so… protective of everyone all the time.“

"Excuse me for falling in lovewith you,” he muttered.

There’s no way she heard thatright.  "You wha—?“

"I said 'Excuse me for failing tofind the clue.’  If I’d been able to find the stalker through moreconventional means, I would have,” he sniffed, turning away tolook over the side of the roof again.

Yeah, that’s really notwhat he said, Molly thought, but wasn’t about to press the issue. At least, 1.) not on a rooftop, 2.) in the rain, and 3.) with Marythere.

Of course, that was when the door tothe roof banged open and eleven stone of weedy,surprisingly-otherwise-normal-if-a-bit-young stalker came lopingthrough brandishing a knife and babbling something about 'don’t knowhow to treat a goddess, Mistress Molly deserves respect, phony blahblah, tosser blah blah.’  Sherlock moved in front of her because hereally was that protective, hands up and trying to placate ratherthan provoke.

That is, until Mary jumped the stalkerfrom behind and locked an arm around his neck, digging a thumb intohis wrist so he dropped the knife.

“Take notes, sweetheart,” shegrunted.  "This is how you do a choke-hold, not those weaklittle lady-hugs that you give.“

Molly peeked out from behind Sherlockto watch the struggle, briefly glancing at Sherlock, who still lookedaffronted.

"Lady-hugs,” he grumbled. Then, glancing down at her, “Might want to get hospital securityon the phone.”

*

“—and if you click the linkbelow, you’ll find a discount coupon for 10% off any sarnie combofrom Speedy’s!  And, ah, that’s the end of my Mystery Date withSherlock Holmes.  Bye!”  Molly waved at the camera; Sherlockclamped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer.

“Aww, that was cute,” Marysaid, turning off the camera and capping the lens.  She promised toget a copy of the raw footage to Molly the next day and there werehugs and cheek kisses goodbye and then Molly was left standing aloneoutside of Speedy’s.  Well, alone with Sherlock, who was looking abit shifty.

“So would you, uh, like to come upfor coffee?” he asked.

She narrowed her eyes at him.  "Wejust had coffee.  Are you trying to trick me into washing your dishesagain?“

"No,” he said.  "I’vejust heard it’s the done thing when a date goes particularly well.“

"So you think our fake date wentwell?” she asked.  She might have been flirting, just a little,little bit.

“We did catch a violentstalker.”

“And I did get to go to aplanetarium.”

“So exciting you fell asleep,”he remarked, but there was no real bite to it.

She smiled at him and he smiled at her;it was definitely a moment.

“You know, I think I will havethat cup of coffee,” she said.

[sintheyokai]

Layton Brothers: Devil’s Child (10): Chapter 9: It’s Finally Over

Word Count: 1756

Time- 12:46 p.m.

"I can't get him to talk, Al," Hilda sighed, "He says he'll only talk to either you or Lucy."

"Very well," Alfendi responded, getting up with a grunt.

He entered the interrogation room. Lucius let out a short, dark chuckle.

"Well, well, look who it is~" he said.

"Hush," Alfendi responded, "You were the one who wanted to see me."

"Oh, of course!" Lucius leaned in, "Because I know you're just dying of questions~"

"Then I guess I should start with my main one: Why would-Why did- you abuse your children?"

"Because God willed it so! The triplets are Demons, and no child of mine, toddler or grown, were going to stand up for them."

Alfendi restrained himself from socking Lucius in the face and continued.

"How many children would you say you tortured?"

"Oh, hundreds, perhaps even thousands! There were a point in time where they all made their own little club and pretty much tortured each other. I believe the brother of Angelo Fassi, Francisco, were the leader!"

"Angelo Fassi? Of the Agonni family? The mafia gang?"

Lucius grinned, "I see you know of them. I believe it was Barbarossa who were an old friend of mine, before he started killing. How is he?"

"Dead. So is Angelo. Not by our hands, mind you."

Lucius remained silent at this information. Finally, in a quite, mournful voice, he spoke.

"There were times..." he said.

"Times where what?" Alfendi raised an eyebrow.

"Times where I doubted my actions. You said it yourself: I tortured children, and I confirmed it by saying hundreds and thousands. There were moments where I wondered: 'Is this really right?' 'Is this what God wants me to do?'. I always tried to back it up and tell myself 'Yes! If it weren't, I wouldn't be hearing the voice of God in the first place!"

The room, again became silent. It stayed that way for a while, Lucius staring off into the distance with glazed eyes. He suddenly put his hand on Alfendi's and patted it.

"Layton, promise me this-"

"Why should I keep promises to someone who took advantage of an inspector?" Potty snarled, quickly retracting his hand.

"Let me finish, dear boy. Promise me you'll take care of her. All three of her."

Alfendi's eyes widened a bit. Slowly, he nodded.

"I will, Mr. Baker."

And it ended there. No goodbyes, no tears, just Alfendi walking out of the interrogation room, leaving Lucius inside.

"Well?" Hilda asked, "Any luck?"

"Yes," Alfendi responded, "But I can't decide whether he should be placed in jail or in a mental hospital. I'm thinking he might have schizophrenia; he's talking about a voice he heard, and he thinks it's God talking to him."

Lucy suddenly came into the room.

"Prof!" she shouted, promptly smacking him in the shoulder with something red before shoving it in his face, " Ya never told me Strawberry were down there!"

Alfendi had completely forgotten that Lucifer had grabbed the little stuffed bear on the way up. He supposed Lucifer had also forgotten he had it if Lucille was hearing about it just now. Lucille didn't bother listening to Alfendi's response as she tightly hugged the toy close to her, the giddy joy of a child coursing through her.

There was a tapping sound, and the trio looked to see Lucius at the interrogation room window. Having their attention, he pulled something small out of his suit pocket.

It was a bag, tied with a singular red satin ribbon. Untying it, he pulled out something red and semicircular.

It was an ear to a stuffed toy.

"Lucille... Are you looking for this?" He said from behind the glass, "Are the others looking for their parts too?"

Alfendi and Hilda looked back at Lucille to see that her originally joyful attitude had been replaced with a ghostly pale face and tears in the corners of her eyes. She reached her hands out, then retracted them quickly, fighting with herself over whether or not she should get close to her father.

"It's alright, dear. I won't pull anything," Lucius looked to the side before angrily saying, "No! I'm sorry, Lord, but not now, of all times!"

"Mental hospital." Both Hilda and Alfendi said before the latter went to get the bag from Lucius. Once retrieved, he peeked inside.

A chocolate brown tail, a white leg with blue patches, and a leg as red as Potty's hair.

They were the pieces that were missing from the Bakers' stuffed toys.

Lucille came over to Alfendi and shyly reached for the ear. Alfendi chuckled and handed it to his assistant.

"Is... Is 'e goin' away now?" Lucille suddenly asked, clutching the ear close to her heart, "Y-Ya know... f-for good?"

Alfendi smiled before leaning down to softly kiss her.

"Yes Lucille. He'll be gone."

Blaine suddenly came speeding down the hall. Alfendi knitted his eyebrows.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

Blaine looked at him and sighed.

"Off to do community service and a slight demotion for my actions," he said, earning a surprised raised eyebrow from Alfendi. "I was quite surprised myself and told Commissioner Barton that he's much too generous sometimes."

And with that he was gone. Lucille looked at Alfendi.

"'e's still gonna work 'ere?" she asked. Alfendi sighed and shook his head in shame.

"I believe so. What he did was somewhat intentional, but all the same he was sort of tricked into doing it."

They went down to the Mystery Room. Suddenly, Lou spoke.

"So what's th' verdict?" Loopy asked.

"Mental hospital for your dad, we just have to file some papers for him, and community service and a demotion for Dartwright." Alfendi answered. Loopy clicked her tongue in annoyance.

"Tha's all? I'm 'appy wiv Beelzedad's punishment, but a li'le disappointed that Shitwright gets nowt more but a slap ont' wrist!"

"You'll find that the Commissioner is very generous. Blame my father a bit will you?"

Loopy stomped her foot and comically shook her fist at the sky, "CURSE YA, 'OT STUFF'S DAD!" she shouted, causing Potty to double over and laugh like a hyena.

"Eh now, Red!" Loopy suddenly exclaimed using her little nickname (she called Placid Wine), "Wot say you tha' after we do those pappers, we 'ead on down to th' joint tha' Lucille works at for a sarnie or summat?"

Placid returned, tears in his eyes, "O-Ohohoh, does- does Lucille work as a- a waitress?" he asked between laughs. Loopy nodded her head.

"Aye! El Café de Mamá; a real cute Spanish cafe whose sarnies are th' absolute best!" Loopy gave her mentor a wide, toothy grin, "An' I 'ope ya don't mind me draggin' along ma siblin's!"

"Not at all, Loopy. But on that note, we really should complete those papers."

Soon after this was said, they approached the Mystery Room door, which, as always since she started working at Scotland Yard, Loopy wanted to bust open. Denying her permission, Alfendi promptly unlocked the door.

As they were signing and filing papers, Loopy remembered something.

"Oh! Lucille told me an' Longstockin' tha' you fenced wiv ma pops! Now where'd a sexy rat noodle like you learn to fence?" she asked.

Alfendi restrained himself from laughing at Lily's quirky flirt, "Oh several of my family members fence, it was only natural that I fence as well."

"Go on! Who fences in your family?"

"My sisters, Flora and Katrielle, but not Fauna, my father, my uncle, Desmond Sycamore, and my aunt."

"Eh?" Loopy raised an eyebrow, "Sycamore, the archaeologist? Funny! 'e seemed like your uncle to me, dunno why. Didn't know ya 'ad an aunt though!"

"Ah, yes, well, she's seldom spoken of. As far as I know, she's entering her... mid 50s or 60s now. And still kicking!"

"Hmm... D'ya know where she is now?" Loopy asked, signing her last paper. Alfendi sighed, finishing as well.

"No... She visited me in my coma for about a week before having to leave for some assignment."

"Wait- She valued summat for work more than 'er own nephew!?"

"I'm unsure. My sisters thought the same, however. They were furious, but my father and uncle seemed to understand at a moments notice. None of us really learned what she went to do."

He sighed again before standing up.

"But enough of that! Seeing as we're both finished, let's set off! I'm interested in seeing Lucille's workplace."

So they left, Loopy skipping up and down the hall. She turned to Alfendi.

"Quickie li'le note: after lunch we should stop by my house. My mum baked 'er cherry pie cake tha' she used to make me, an' th' Yuferivers sent me their monthly treat: Daddy Remimbur's pate choux!"

Alfendi laughed and nodded, "Alright! Sounds like a plan for the evening!"

And the plans ensued. The duo ate with the Bakers and Fauna at the cafe, later treating themselves to Mrs. Barde's cake and Remimbur's pate choux, which Alfendi enjoyed quite a lot (Lou, get your mom and foster dad to give me their fucking recipes please these are so fucking goddamn good~)

After lunch, they began heading back to the Yard. And as they approached the doors, a train carrying a woman came along.

--At Kings Cross Station--

The woman stepped off the train, stone in hand. She was on the phone with an old friend.

"I know, I know, it was inconsiderate of me." she spoke. She listened as the voice answered. "Yes, I know, I was here. I watched him hold onto his life for a week."

She was outside the station. The voice was yelling at her.

"You don't understand," she said irritablely, "I had to leave! If officials got their hands on it, they'd try and use it! And I know I've told you what will happen if it's misused. It has to be used by them."

She was silent as the voice continued. It said something to make her grimace slightly.

"Cover story? Hmm... I'll make up something. You know I always do. It'll hopefully explain my whole, 'I gotta go' in the middle of my nephew's coma. Anyway, I'm in London, so I'll hang up."

And doing just that, she removed her hat and glasses, her curly white hair shining in the light.

"Well now... Alfendi and Katrielle... I heard you've created great careers for yourselves." she glanced at the palm sized stone she had retrieved, "But..."

"I wonder if you'll be able to handle the secrets I kept from your poor souls."