paradisalost | Entries tagged with sherlock holmes

hbincharge.livejournal.com

Who: not!Anthea and you!
What: Buying a new phone.
When: Today
Where: A sidewalk in Paris

( then most of my life isn't real )

((ooc: LJ is still having loading issues for me so I will get to these as I can. Open to anyone.))

workaphilic.livejournal.com

[Someone is not adapting to these new careers very well.

Sherlock's keeping his journal in his pocket, but it (naturally) jostles open just enough to catch him arguing with a woman in rapid, heated French. For those of you adept enough in the language to keep up, he might be deriding her intelligence in increasingly creative ways and she might be threatening to go find his supervisor.

His French is flawless, but there are moments where he seems to stumble a little, when his loss prevents him from offhandedly mentioning that the woman's purebred borzoi is actually a very fortunate-looking mutt, or that perhaps she should be more concerned with her best friend's severe gambling problem. But he barrels through each one like he's in the running for a gold medal at the Douchelympics.

Finally, he seems to get fed-up, and he switches abruptly out of French.]

You've hands, don't you? Then there you are, there's the door, work it yourself. It's a difficult contraption, to be sure, but if you rack your brain I'm sure you'll be able to figure it out. Bonne journée.

[And with that he'll blatantly abandon his post, stalking off down the street in a huff.

... At least he tried?]

((Open over the journal, on the street, or just outside Hotel Imladris! Not strictly a kissing post, but if you wanna get your mack on WHO AM I TO STOP YOU.))

modernholmes.livejournal.com

Who: Conan Edogawa, Ran Mouri, and anyone who wants to stumble across them
What: Ran insists on walking Conan up to his room after he finally gets out of the infirmary
Where: Anywhere in the hallways between the infirmary and Satis Tower
When: Dec. 10

Conan stumbles across a crack in the floor as he tries to keep up with Ran. His feet skid across the floor for a few inches as he is pulled along by the hand still caught up in her grip.

"But Ran-neechan, this really isn't necessary! I can find my room by myself!"

workaphilic.livejournal.com

( [ Private ] )

( [ Libet Expedition: Teams 1, 2, 4, and 5 ] )

( [ Libet Expedition: Team 3 ] )

[He does his hourly scan of the journal after that, which essentially amounts to rapid flipping and a lot of skipped entries. He's had a bit of excess energy since John forced him to "be reasonable" and "take care of his health."

So he dictates, cheerfully sarcastic (which is as close to regular cheerful as he's able to get, really):]

God forbid the lot of you talk about anything more engaging than the newest reason to stuff your faces.

[American Thanksgiving is kind of his worst nightmare. Who makes a holiday just to eat and socialize with family members? Terrifying.

Tap tap tap.]

"Dark meat" -- so called because of pigmentation created by high concentrations of myoglobin -- consists primarily of slow-twitch muscle fibers designed for extended exertion. Very useful for determining typical patterns of behavior in an unfamiliar specimen.

There, I've even kept to the theme. Next year you might even have something intelligent to deflect with when your host asks you how you like their sub-par cooking.

You're welcome.

spinstrikes.livejournal.com

[Exploring at the time, had seemed like a great idea. Stepping into a room with a name he couldn't even pronounce, even better! Crawling into a maze and wandering around...? Not so much. The way they link up with platforms and ladders though reminds him of the TV world, and so when he runs into another person, exploring with them seems like the best option available.

Until it's a few hours later and they actually want to leave, and...Have no idea where they're going. The journal flops open during this time, to catch the irritated foot tapping of a seventeen year old boy, as he's standing between the choice to go left or right]

That's it. We're going to die.

By all means, go ahead. Maybe then I'll finally get some peace and quiet.

[Glaring over at him, with exasperation] We don't have food, or water, and unless a vending machine decides to drop from the sky, you're just going to have to pick right or left!

[LIKE RIGHT NOW, SHERLOCK]

[ooc: that's right Yosuke and Sherlock got lost in the Insolitus together.]

hullo-sweetie.livejournal.com

Who: Anyone and everyone!
What: River Song's costume party!
When: Halloween
Where: The Ballroom

Welcome to the Ballroom! Which has been conveniently decorated in the typical Halloween decor of spiderwebs, glowing pumpkins, and other assorted ghoulish looking decorations. A big thanks to the ghosts for doing most of the hard work! A table is set up towards the back of the room and it is simply filled with Halloween themed goodies! Small cookies, candies, some cake, and a strange green bubbling cauldron full of a punch-like drink. Be careful though, the punch has most likely already been spikes!

Your hostess, River Song, is dressed up as a very sexy vampire. Complete with small plastic bat wings, a long gorgeous cape, and plastic fangs! Feel free to approach her or mingle on your own!

workaphilic.livejournal.com

( [ Private ] )

[the journal opens to mostly silence, save for occasional clinks of glass knocking together. he's too preoccupied to close it, and so after a while he'll just start dictating idly. he seems to be in a relatively good mood today.]

Always liked Halloween. Amazing what some people will do given the right backdrop, what old legends do for the imagination. Had a double homicide left to look like a ritual sacrifice one year -- that was a good one, better than it sounds.

[an extended pause, where he seems to have gotten distracted. then he just picks up again, in the same absent tone.]

There's more to sift through, obviously. Drunks wandering the streets in masks, of course violent crimes are going to spike. Means something worthwhile doesn't turn up every year, but when it does? Always a treat.

[did he just make a halloween pun? maybe. it'd be easy to miss either way, because right then there's a muted pop! and something vaguely acrid splashes on the corner of the page.]

Oh.

Probably best not to touch that.

[is he serious? is he trolling? hard to tell.]

workaphilic.livejournal.com

( [ Private ] )

[in the background, there's the faint sound of a stringed instrument being plucked, over and over. people with an ear for this sort of thing might notice the notes getting gradually sharper or flatter as he talks; he's tuning a violin.]

It seems even magical castles aren't immune to becoming unspeakably dull every now and again. Not entirely unexpected, but I was hoping it'd last longer than two weeks.

So, residents. I don't suppose you'd like to try your hand at being interesting for five minutes? Go on. At this point I'd even tolerate being told a riddle.

workaphilic.livejournal.com

( [ Private ] )

[Sherlock is taking the opportunity to address his List of Things to Do -- which he isn't progressing through as quickly as he would have liked, considering he wasted last night by sleeping of all things. He's making his way through town today with the journal held out in front of him, dictating to it like he would a phone on speaker.]

Interesting how quickly you lot offer your couches and your floors to a population of -- what is it? Two-hundred? Three-hundred? Remarkable level of camaraderie, really. Hope your things are all still in order when you get back from whatever it is you do all day.

Ah. [he pauses, distractedly, apparently having found whatever it was he was looking for. There's some scuffling as he changes directions, and then he starts up again.] Though if they aren't it's your own fault, I suppose.

[he's stopped in front of the display window of a music shop in the business district. He's staring intently at the things behind the glass, with no apparent interest in actually going inside the store, but he'll stand there way longer than necessary for just a window shopper. Suspicious, much?]

workaphilic.livejournal.com

( [ Private ] )

[He can't say he's not completely intrigued by the journal (he is), but it's woefully antiquated. He prefers text and email. If the next best thing is writing, well.... It's better than talking.

The following blooms across the page in crisp, precise letters:]

I require information. About the castle, this "world." Anything that isn't in the journal already.

Kindly skip the welcome speech. I imagine you are all as sick of giving it as I am of reading it.

SH

crimesolved.livejournal.com

[in the lobby, there's a striking British gentleman sitting in an armchair and smoking a... cigarette... as he finishes a cigarette, he then picks up the ashtray he was using and... examines the ashes... rubbing them between his fingers, watching how they move, even tasting them....

feel free to notice this obvious weirdo]

crimesolved.livejournal.com

The things this castle can do are simply... impossible. At least by usual reasoning.

Perhaps I should take my mind off of this. I believe a stiff drink is in order. There is a bar on the second floor, the Death Match, correct? Is it still in operation with this newest event?

crimesolved.livejournal.com

Any reasonable person would no doubt be sleeping at this time. But sleep is a luxury afforded only to those without immediate concerns.

I've begun questioning the townsfolk about the place, and they refer to us as travelers, correct? This would usually infer that they know of our origins, to an extent, but any further questioning seems to lead to a dead end of answers. A rather troublesome affair.

I've also started reading through the journal from the beginning as further investigation. I believe I have a better grasp of the castle and its system now, though it's still far from perfect. If you believe you have more answers to the castle and its mysteries, it would be a pleasure to speak with you. Over tea, if you'd like. I do imagine I'll be awake until at least tomorrow night reading through the entries, so any time at all would be fine.

My name, by the way, is Sherlock Holmes, a consulting detective. It seems introductions are usually the first order of business, forgive my earlier rudeness.

crimesolved.livejournal.com

[a quiet groan as a man awakens from a deep slumber; the following is dictated quietly]

...Where am I? And how could I have possibly gotten here?

[he quietly takes stock of the situation]

I don't experience any of the aftereffects of a drugged slumber, and I don't seem to have been struck to unconsciousness. [a rustling as he throws the curtain of his window aside] The sun is high, I could not have possibly slept this long on my own, not could I have been transported to a room so far from my own without being awoken normally.

This calls for further investigation. [a quick checking of his body and, yes, he does in fact have his revolver on him] They didn't think to disarm me, whoever it was. Foolish.

About the Archive

"Paradisa Lost" is the archive of what the journals contained between December 1st, 2006 and January 10th, 2012. On that final day, Paradisa issued new journals, so that the residents could fill them up again. While there are still residents around who have old journals, we have chosen to preserve the old journals here for muns' reference and history.

"Lost" in the title refers to both the old journals that the residents once kept, and also to our move to Dreamwidth from the original Livejournal community, where Paradisa started. It is a fresh start for muns, as well as for the characters.

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PARADISA LOST

the archives, 2006-2012

Entries tagged with sherlock holmes

if vision is the only validation

007 || dictated; (backdated to earlier this afternoon)

Open Log

006 || written/dictated;

003 Beats

This is Halloween (OPEN)

004 || dictated;

003 || dictated;

002 || dictated;

001 || written;

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

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About the Archive