May 2013
When you tell the internet you’re dying, I forgot that means you’re perfectly fine.
8Y 8Y Holmes please they’re always false alarms. Don’t you know.
( John smirks and looks down at the detective. )
Good thing no one looks through my history.
[Sherlock doesn’t look back up at him, burying his face in the crook of John’s neck instead. Because it’s warm. Shut up.]
Mm. Except me. But I already know you’re a disturbed housewife.
…You all right?
Of course I am baby doll, when am I not?
When you tell the internet you’re dying, I forgot that means you’re perfectly fine.
Holmes just who I wanted to see
C’mere lemme kiss ya
You gosh-darned sweetie.
…You all right?
( John is slightly surprised when he doesn’t get a text back, but a brand new pillow to join him on their bed. He pats Sherlock’s hip with a small smile. )
You’re right. Domesticity happens to be my forte. ( He scrolls through the pages of the internet casually, recipes and modern living up on the pages. ) Once prodded in the right direction.
[Sherlock just rests, lulled into an idle sort of content by John’s heartbeat. But as he watches John click back between his tabs, he wrinkles his nose.]
You know, if someone saw your browsing history, they’d think you were an incredibly disturbed housewife.
[Text] Let’s do something with some of the bookshelves we have. Or maybe something else, like refurbishing the couch. I’m sure it needs new upholstery.
[Sherlock gets tired of texting John when they’re two rooms over, so he pockets his phone and heads to their room, where he proceeds to do a very convincing impression of a limpet.]
You’re very domestic all of a sudden. I can’t even imagine what we’d do with our bookshelves. They do a perfectly good job of holding our books.
[Text] Okay, I’ll go out tomorrow and get some.
[Text] Let’s, as in, let’s do something cool like those bookshelves. I think it would be a nice normal thing to do for us and it would give me a sense of satisfaction.
[Text] You know, the type where I can sit back in my chair and relax. Not the one where I’m running for my life with you.
[text] We already have bookshelves. Lots of them. We’d have to turn your old room into a library.
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[Text] You made it vibrate with all your texts and it fell off.
[Text] The main idea of that was to get you more of that jasmine tea, correct?
[text] Well, it’s clearly not damaged.
[text] Yes, I believe so.
Go on.
We’re going to real physical Tumblr Prom and I’m gonna slap the first ho that tries to tell me Johnlock is canon that’s what and then we’re gonna get food after.
I was planning on wearing the only dress I own aka the black one w/ the red shawl but OKAY HOLMES WHATEVER U SAY
…Johnlock is canon. But “rails before pails” is the expression you use, correct?
That works perfectly because I’m not wearing anything different from what I normally do and won’t compromise on that.
There was a physical venue in the multiverse last year. Doesn’t matter.
8I
WE’RE GOING TO THAT OKAY HOLMES I WANT TO SLAP SOME SHITTY BLOGGERS AROUND AND NOT FEEL BAD B/C IT’S NOT EVEN MY UNIVERSE KK
I’m not even sure I understand what you’re asking, but fine. Yes, I’ll go to tumblr prom with you. Which is ridiculous. I didn’t go to my prom. English proms are shit anyway, but overall it’s a waste of money. What’s the point of a dress you’ll only wear once?
starstarvelingmage:
How the hell does an unsub attend Tumblr Prom did you have to trawl the tag for his photo or
There was a physical venue in the multiverse last year. Doesn’t matter.
threepatchdetective replied to your post: °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖° BE MY DATE TO TUMBLR PROM…
Wait, what?
Be my date to Tumblr Prom, Holmes.
Oh god, is that happening again? There was an unsub attending last year, I had to go with Wesley.
Sting. Operation.
Just you wait Holmes, I will make you pull something laughing.
Ambitious, Vi. I look forward to it.
//And what you major in boredom you minor in sass
I heard that.
He led Mycroft into nettles. Really, you should have been there.
Yeah just wait and see I’ll lead Mycroft into a fucking sting operation we’ll see who’s better than a border collie then.
Oh, come on. You aren’t actually losing. It’s just fairly close.
The nettles were hysterical, though.
threepatchdetective replied to your post: Friendly reminder that no matter what you…
There was that border collie that was smarter than Mycroft once, when we were younger.
Are you saying I’m losing to a border collie, Holmes.
He led Mycroft into nettles. Really, you should have been there.
I’m sure you could. What do you propose?
How very astute of you.
A building in the newspaper, a cliff in the book.
[He shrugs, waving a hand dismissively and then glancing towards his shoulder for just a moment before looking up to Sherlock. The crooked grin has not left his features.]
What about a hel-pup? A talking, fire-breathing sort, that’s the kind of dog I know to be at least decently intelligent.
[He pauses, then frowns lightly.]
… Aside from the organ-ripping. Er, sorry, I’m going off track. Aren’t there dog species that are bred for intelligence and all that? I mean, not of the quantum-physics multiverse sort of thing which I don’t even fully understand, but…
Ah, yes. That was me, then.
[He can see hints of the dark grin that crooked one will twist into, and it’s unsettling, but not enough to throw him off completely.]
I can’t say I’m familiar with hel-pups, nor am I familiar with canine husbandry. One of my cousins had a Labrador when I was younger, disgustingly stupid creature. Apparently collies are smart. And I can’t imagine police dogs would be too thick.
I’ve read stories about you. In the newspapers, last time I was in England— Er, though I suppose that would’ve been a long time ago.
[The boy looks Sherlock up and down as the detective examines him, expression somewhere between curious and intrigued, a crooked sort of grin curling his lips as he clasps his hands behind his back. Loki stands a bit straighter and the slightest bit taller, and his green eyes gleam with something akin to excitement.]
I’ve tried to explain. Birds only have so much room in those little heads, I think, so it’d probably be best if I didn’t try to explain anymore. Guess what’s where the term birdbrain comes from?
[His grin grows wider.]
I thought dogs were supposed to be smart?
Yes, that was me. Or, likely to have been me. Was I said to have fallen off a building or a cliff?
[Sherlock smirks - this may in fact be the only instance in which he’s found the exuberance of youth endearing rather than annoying.]
Dogs, supposed to be smart? Wolves are smart. Never try to explain anything to a Labrador.
Sherlock Holmes as in the Sherlock Holmes? I know plenty about multiple universes and one of my favorite things is to know that there are a plethora of Holmses as well as a plethora of Thors and Lokis. I’ve tried to explain this to Ikol countless times, but he’s a bird, and birds aren’t as clever as I’d like.
Hello, Mr. Holmes, my name is Loki. Good to meet you!
Yes, as in the Sherlock Holmes.
[Just from looking at him, Sherlock can see that the child is telling the truth. He’s unmistakably Loki. It makes him a bit uncomfortable - the last time he met a younger Loki, the both of them nearly died. But this one seems young enough not to be much of a threat… not that he knows where the older one is, or if he’s in any position to be threatened at all.]
‘Evening, Loki. Good luck explaining the multiverse to your bird, I’ve found it nearly impossible to get birds to grasp logic. Dogs are worse.
Maybe. Maybe not.
( pauses before he just squeezes Sherlock to him again, attacking his neck with a little bit more fervor. His mouth nips a bit harder and he makes sure he leaves a few marks below the collar of his shirt, along his clavicle. )
[Sherlock’s breathing gets more shallow, he twists his fingers in John’s sandy hair and his toes curl in his socks.]
Are you sure your intentions haven’t changed? [his breath is warm as he whispers in John’s ear]
Sherlock Holmes. Can I help you?
Locked doors. No touch from anyone, except him. Timed lights, shorter than usual days. When I escaped it was supposed to be night, I came out to mid day.
Several floors below street level.
And… Human guards. Susceptible to me.
I think he has Vain Glory. And Bravery. He may have found love too.
Who is ‘he’?
I’ll take your case, but I need as much information as you have before I can begin. Please, don’t interrupt yourself.
No, definitely not the one you know.
{Seemed to be a common misconception. Impossible to be an agent of Vanity. When she was Vanity.}
Pleasure is all yours, Mister Holmes. I do not suppose you have questions.
{He seemed like he’d be one to learn what he didn’t know of. To discover.}
No, I haven’t.
[He had many. More than he could list - more than he could organise. Bits and pieces of inquiry floating around his head, difficult to draw together around the assumptions he had to make first. Was she a threat? How much was he supposed to know? Did she know he’d met others? Sherlock needed more time than he would have liked to work out how to frame his questions, and needed to be absolutely sure it was on his own terms.]
But I’ll contact you if they come up, shall I?
Can’t say that was a greeting I expected. I guess my answer would depend on exactly what you’re claiming I’m another one of? If you mean another casino owner, that would be correct at least. If you mean another handsome devil, you’d be quite right there too.
[A modest one, Owen was. Still, those sharp eyes and knowing gaze gave him pause, wondering just how much this man actually knew.]
Owen Geddes, owner and proprietor of Fortuna Casino. A pleasure.
You know full well what I mean, Mr. Geddes.
Another Pillar.
[Sherlock Holmes hasn’t got time for those who pretend they are less than they are, no more than for those who pretend they’re more. Owen has the same peculiar sheen about him that Ravenna did, that Johnathan did, that he’s sure the others do. He realises after a moment that they might not think he’d notice - after all, a normal person wouldn’t.]
Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective. The pleasure’s yours, I’m sure.
April 2013
Rules:Send my character a ‘would you’ or ‘are you’ ask.
My character is only allowed to answer with a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’.
I’m not allowed to delete or ignore any asks sent.
Anonymous asks are welcome.
