the-autistic-detective
the-autistic-detective
Small & Often Terrified
201 posts
Sometimes finding the answer takes a different way of thinking. RP blog for Atticus McLaren of The Atticus McLaren Mysteries. Autistic amatuer detective and museum technician from Edinburgh. (check out the-autistic-detective-archive for more!)
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the-autistic-detective · 7 years ago
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Being brave isn’t glorifying. Being brave is messy. Being brave is walking forward when you thought you couldn’t even stand. Being brave is doing the right thing no matter the consequences. Being brave is being selfless.
Did you know that doing the right thing can feel like doing the wrong thing? ( c.d. )
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the-autistic-detective · 7 years ago
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Edinburgh ❤️
lovegreatbritain 🍂 instagram
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the-autistic-detective · 7 years ago
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the-captains-table
Once Atticus mentioned it, Hardison paused to give the room a good look. He’d of course done the whole techie sweep before even thinking about entering this place, but he still was getting used to tuning into people in the world around him. And now he was picking up some very weird vibes.
“We gotta get out of here,” Hardison said out of the side of his mouth, instantly reaching for his coat to make a quick getaway.
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It was unseasonably cold outside, but Atticus had come prepared. He was all for Hardison’s plan for a quick exit, but unfortunately, the cold weather protection that also served as a good disguise took a little work to put on. He stood by the doorway, getting the impression that his friend was quickly growing impatient. When he was finished, he could barely move and felt like he was about to roast inside the bar. 
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“OK, let’s go,” he said, his voice muffled by his huge scarf. He turned and waddled through the door, starting to wonder if his outfit wasn’t a little too much. Once they were outside and a few paces from the bar, he started to feel better. As he leaned over to Hardison to repeat his question about figuring out what to do, though, he began to notice the odd person on the street, giving them strange looks. 
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the-autistic-detective · 7 years ago
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with @thesoundofwardrums || continued from here
Atticus didn’t know what to say or do. When he’d been plagued by nightmares as a child, his brother, Scout, had always sat by his bed and said soothing things to him. Sometimes he’d laid a hand on his chest, applying gentle, but firm pressure. He’d gotten so good at it that, eventually, he could soothe Atticus out of his dream before he ever woke up. 
Atticus wasn’t Scout though. He didn’t know how to do these things and he wasn’t very good at knowing when someone would welcome his touch, so he usually didn’t bother trying. The best he could do was try to relate, which he supposed he could, a little.
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“My parents died in a car crash a couple of years ago. I guess that’s not quite the same thing, but...it still hurts. My brother’s all I have now...and my friend, Freddy,” he added with a smile. “Friends are like family too, sometimes.” He didn’t bring up Drake as he still wasn’t exactly sure what the man meant to him, though he knew he would take his loss very hard too.
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the-autistic-detective · 7 years ago
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the-autistic-detective · 7 years ago
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Atticus McLaren is in!
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the-autistic-detective · 7 years ago
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PSA
OK, so...the time has come, I think. I’m now working on two books a month as well as trying to get The Atticus McLaren Mysteries TV show off the ground. In January, I’ll also be starting an MPhil course. Needless to say, my time is very limited and I’m pretty tired when I do have days off. I won’t be shutting down my accounts, but they are becoming very private. There will only be a few threads I continue and I doubt I’ll be starting new ones very often. 
I know this is a pain in the butt, but I’d rather do a few things my heart is really in than put out crap replies because I’m too tired to really care about them. Thanks for understanding!
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the-autistic-detective · 7 years ago
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Put which one from the Cinnamon Roll meme my muse is:
musingsnmemesforhire:
Beautiful Cinnamon Roll Too Good For This World, Too Pure
Looks like they could kill you but is actually a cinnamon roll
Looks like a cinnamon roll but could actually kill you
Looks like a cinnamon roll and is actually a cinnamon roll
Looks like they could kill you and could actually kill you
Could kill you, but is still a cinnamon roll
Would kill for a cinnamon roll
Sinnamon roll
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the-autistic-detective · 7 years ago
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Isle of Skye and The Highlands of Scotland by Monokai www.monokai.nl
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the-autistic-detective · 7 years ago
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Atticus McLaren is out!
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the-autistic-detective · 7 years ago
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“Nah, these are just a gnarly kind of spore - although, I suppose there’s no evidence to say it wasn’t aliens….” he mused. Truthfully, he wasn’t about to attribute every single weird thing to aliens, but he was starting to warm to the idea that maybe there was a bit more alien activity here than people wanted to believe. Maybe.
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“That… is disturbing, my man,” Hardison grimaced, trying to imagine what it would look like to have part of your brain plop right on out of your ear. That image was gonna stick with him a while.
Atticus nodded in agreement and then frowned. “So, you don’t think I’m crazy? Could it really be aliens doing all of this? I mean, I know it was just something I saw on the telly, but...” He glanced around at the rest of the people in the bar. The news was turned on the television behind the bartender and two people at the other end of the bar were cheering about a protest rally like they were watching their favorite sports team. At a table, three people were debating the correct pronunciations of grande, venti, and trenta like the fate of the world depended on it and by the door, the pub dog had just stolen an ice cream cone from a toddler in a stroller and no one had even noticed the child’s wailing. 
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“There’s definitely something wrong with these people,” he whispered. He was even starting to feel watched, but he figured that was probably his imagination. “If it’s all true then what do we do about it?”
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the-autistic-detective · 7 years ago
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why are breakfast dates not  a more popular thing? like forget your 9pm fancy dinner reservation, lets go eat pancakes at 9am in our pjs
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the-autistic-detective · 7 years ago
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reblog this if you actually like following me.
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the-autistic-detective · 7 years ago
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Top Gear At The Movies
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the-autistic-detective · 7 years ago
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Here it is: Best stuff first
Extremely handy if you follow a lot of people and hate missing anything good. 
Best Stuff First moves the best stuff on your dashboard—mhm!—right up to the top. 
It’s rolling out this week on iOS and Android, and comes with this Help Center article.  
Thanks! ✌️
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the-autistic-detective · 7 years ago
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medjaichieftain
Ardeth was thankful that this particular cult, while savage, was not very organized combat-wise. They knew how to fight at a basic level, but they were nowhere near as experienced or trained as Ardeth. Despite being out numbered, Ardeth felt confident he could fell his opponents, or maybe even make some of them run off. What he was not able to predict, was that Atticus would get involved.
He had to hand it to the small foreign man for even bothering to try to help him. Judging just based on appearances and demeanor, Ardeth never would have supposed that the man would have that sort of bravery in him. It caused him to become a combatant, however, and not just a bystander, and that was a problem. “No! Do not draw their attention to you! Let me handle them!” Ardeth called to Atticus, even as he was engaged with one of the cult members. After dropping the man with a swift slash of his sword across his chest, Ardeth then went directly to the one who was now eyeing Atticus, running him through his back. He was sorry he had to see that happen, but he did not want the man to reach him, guessing that Atticus did not know much about fighting.
Ardeth did not turn in time, however, to parry the attack of a third man who sought to do to him what he’d just done to his comrade. Ardeth was cut on his upper arm as a result, but he did not let that stop him. Now fighting two men at once, it did not seem as if the wound was even painful to him as he swept and circled with his blade, parrying both men at once. A poorly timed attack on the part of one of them gave Ardeth an opening to bury his sword in his stomach, causing the man to cry out in pain. The fourth and last remaining man now looked pale, all the blood draining from his face. He took one look at Ardeth’s sword, and a final glance at him, and turned tail, running out of the alley and out into the crowds again.
Now free to relax, Ardeth winced as he sheathed his sword and gripped the wound on his upper arm. It was bleeding, but not so deep that he would have to deal with it right away. Instead, he went over to where Atticus was hiding. “Are you alright, friend?” he asked kindly, breathing hard and yet the softness of his tone carrying none of the bite of the fierce warrior he had been just a moment ago.
Atticus watched in horror as the man came toward him, intent on killing him he imagined from what he’d seen so far. He heard Ardeth’s warning, but it was too late, he’d already been spotted. He wanted to run or duck further behind the palettes, but there was nowhere to go. To his surprise, a sword suddenly pierced the man from behind, blood splattering in his direction. In fact, the spray was so harsh that droplets splashed across Atticus’ face and clothes. 
He watched in shock as the sword disappeared again and the man fell, face first, in front of him. For a moment, he only stared at the dead man’s unmoving form before slowly looking back up at Ardeth. He’d seen death and had his life threatened, but the bodies he’d stumbled on before had always been there for a while. He’d never actually seen it happen in real time. Without him really realizing what had happened, he slowly became aware that the alley was quiet. The fighting must have stopped and he looked back up to see Ardeth walking his way.
“What?” Atticus mumbled, vaguely. “Um, yeah, yeah,” he stammered and quickly got to his feet, backing away from his friend unintentionally. He glanced down, noticing the blood splattered across his shirt. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he lied, his voice pitching higher. He stared at the blood for a second and then began trying to wipe it off. As he did so, he noticed the blood on his arms and moved, with ever increasing desperation, to trying to wipe them off. Soon his hands were covered in blood and he squeaked in frustration as he tried to wipe them on his clothes. 
A Stranger in a Foreign Land || closed with the-autistic-detective
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the-autistic-detective · 7 years ago
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Halloween Aesthetic || Atticus
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