Sherlock Holmes

The name is Sherlock Holmes, and the address is 221B Baker Street. ((READ RULES! Indie Sherlock, No Johnlock)) Sherlock tumblr by Natassia on Grooveshark

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[loversof221b]

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"Yes, I’ve returned from a long trip. No, I will not tell you what or where it was. You may resume your long, boring speech," the detective stated, placing his hands to his lips. He narrowed his eyes at the person in front of him.

[thegirlfromnapoli]

Camilla crossed one leg over the...

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Sherlock sighed. "You've obviously something to say, or you wouldn't have come." He stared her down. Sherlock would not stop until he had an answer. Of course he was pressuring her. Of course he knew she had only had questions, and that's why she had come, but he wanted her to admit it.

[predomiinates]

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[predomiinates]

{ The smile that graces her lips   is more teasing than genuine. }

Hello Mister Holmes.

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"Miss Adler," he said, walking passed her. He kept his back straight. The familiar seductive tone loomed over her voice and kept her mouth in that seemingly arrogant smirk.

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Sherlock narrowed his eyes the moment his brother insulted the violin. He tended to do that a lot. Sherlock took in a breath and looked off towards the window. “If a violin is so terrible, please explain to me why I have a higher IQ than you. I can comprehend...

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Sherlock glared at his brother and shifted his weight. "Molly Hooper. Trust me, Brother, she's not one you'd want to go after. I mean, yes, she's clever, but....not quite your type." He smirked. Sherlock reached out and plucked the strings of the instrument. "But if you absolutely must, pay her a visit. God knows it could be good for both of you."

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OPEN||

"Must you bother me at this moment?" Sherlock asked, letting out an annoyed sigh and placing the book down that he was reading. 

[arrayofkaty]

The thirteen year old girl sighed as she burst through the door, tears slipping from her eyes. “M-My Mom’s boyfriend is scaring me. His name is Jim. Please help me.” She said, looking tearfully at the detective. 

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His attention was peaked once she mentioned the name of Jim. He placed his arms behind his back and twiddled his fingers. "This....Jim. He's been abusing you, hasn't he?" he asked, gesturing the the small bruises on her body. "You try to hide....I'd say he's been with your mother about, oh....three months now, and his true personality is just coming out. Am I correct?"

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OPEN:

"Yes, I’ve returned from a long trip. No, I will not tell you what or where it was. You may resume your long, boring speech," the detective stated, placing his hands to his lips. He narrowed his eyes at the person in front of him.

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“I don’t need you to treat me like a baby.”

"I don’t do that," he said. A child, perhaps, but not a baby.

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"I remember."

[thegirlfromnapoli]

  “Good. I don’t want to repeat myself.” Hell, she’s killed and splattered blood for a living, and she’ll be damned if she were to run and hide. “I may not look it, but I can protect myself.”

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"Of course. Until you get caught or someone decides they're done with you."

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"You take such joy in pretending you're okay," he said, giving her a knowing look.

   “I’m fine, Sherlock. I’m not pretending anything..”

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Sherlock let her have her moments of silence. After a while, she finally spoke. But it was not an answer to what he was trying to receive from her. Her voice was shaky, and so was her breath. She continued to look down towards the floor. “I do not choose to do these things to you, you allow yourself,” he stated.

He took in a breath. “Vermilion,” he said. He didn’t get a reply. “I can tell you the reasons easily. It’s not hard to miss.” It was then he realized he was being his normal self. He looked at her. She was standing there stiffly, still looking down. He shifted on his feet. “Vermilion, I….-” he stopped himself. Sherlock Holmes was at a loss for words. When did this ever happen?

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   Vermilion let out another shaky breath as he spoke to her. His voice nearly rumbled inside her, causing a familiar chill to run down her spine. He was the only person in her entire life her had such an effect on her, and he was barely even aware of it.

   “That’s the thing, Sherlock.. I don’t allow myself. I’ve tried so many times to stop.. to stop looking at you the way I do- to stop thinking of you the way I do. It’s gets like this- you say something, or you do something, and I’m just overwhelmed, because you’re.. you’re breathtaking, Sherlock. Every single thing about you. I’ve given it every ounce of power I have, because I know that it’s pointless and pathetic to feel this way about you, because you’re never going to feel the same way-“

   Dr. Morrison stepped back, her eyes wide, “No- God, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said any of that. I should go-” the woman turned to walk out of his flat.

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Sherlock sighed. He wouldn't say he felt what she wanted him to feel, but Sherlock still found something intriguing about this woman. Something kept him wanting to be around her. He didn't know what it was because he'd never thought someone would be able to overtake him in that way.

She turned her back on him. Sherlock's mind began showing him what would happen if he just let her go, and he didn't like it. So instead, he put a hand on her shoulder, took a few steps to meet her, and turned her around. He didn't say anything; he just looked at her.

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“I don’t need you to treat me like a baby.”

"I don’t do that," he said. A child, perhaps, but not a baby.

[thegirlfromnapoli]

  “Okay, not a baby,” Camilla sighed. “But you do treat me like I am incapable of taking care of myself. I’m an assassin, remember?”

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"I remember."

[thereclxse]

Jonathon Cooper walked down the streets of London, headed to Baker Street to find Sherlock Holmes. He’d traveled here all the way from Washington just for this. He needed see if it was true that he’d really captured the heart of Vermilion Morrison, the woman who’d done the same to him so many...

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He had heard Mrs. Hudson talking to someone. Sherlock turned and looked at the man. "Let's make this quick," he said. "I'm in the middle of finding another case, and disturbances are quite annoying." He gestured for the man to sit down, but of course, not in his own arm chair.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, deducing things about the man that was now sitting before him. Author, that much was obvious. Experienced in weaponry. American. Slightly rich. Business man. Bargainer. The list went on and on.

Sherlock moved his way to his own chair, plopped down, and put his fingers to his lips. "You may begin," he stated.

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OOC: My Peter Parker blog is up!!!

The user is petrprkr and I desperately need followers and people to RP with. He will be multiverse, so PLEASE GO FOLLOW HIM!! I will be on his blog the remainder of the night to finish it/work on it.

[vivacitiies]

reblog if it is okay for me to reply to any of your opens, no matter how old.

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“I don’t need you to treat me like a baby.”

"I don't do that," he said. A child, perhaps, but not a baby.

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OOC: Thinking of making a Peter Parker blog...

Spiderman/Peter, that is. Who would follow, and do you think it'd work out?

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Sherrinford snubbed out his cigarette, leaving it in the ashtray that was overflowing with used Marlboros. “I never asked you for your opinion, brother dearest,” Sherrinford quipped, his voice as taut as his brother’s violin strings. “And Bach’s alright…if you enjoy stodgy, Baroque music. Never was much for the Brandenburg Concertos. Too much harpsichord and violin for my taste.”

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Sherlock narrowed his eyes the moment his brother insulted the violin. He tended to do that a lot. Sherlock took in a breath and looked off towards the window. "If a violin is so terrible, please explain to me why I have a higher IQ than you. I can comprehend things quicker, better than you ever could. Also, think about the fact that a cellist's music tends to be the supporting notes from the piece while the violins play the main theme. Don't ask what I am implying by stating this because you know exactly what I am saying."

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He sighed in disappointment. “You never were able to contemplate things as easily and quickly as Mycroft and I,” he said. Sherlock walked over to his brother’s bookshelf. He scanned it for only a few moments. After finding what he was looking for, Sherlock reached up and pulled out a book with the title The Maestro’s Book of Maestros. “I knew you took this book from me,” he said, opening it and flipping through the pages.   

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Always the disappointment, Sherrinford. Mycroft’s voice echoed through Sherrinford’s head. Words from the first time Mycroft had bailed him out of a jail cell kept ringing. Sherrinford had never been much for deductions. Always giving him a migraine and because of that, his brothers didn’t have much taste for him. “Why would I need that book, Sherlock?” Sherrinford sneered hostilely. “Haven’t you heard? I’m a ‘musical prodigy!’” And indeed, it was true. The papers, after the world premiere of his first symphony, had regaled praise for the young cellist who had incorporated slight variations on popular themes in a four movement symphony, and, like Beethoven, young Sherrinford had included a rondo.

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Sherlock closed the book quite forcefully, casing there to be a loud, hollow bang from the impact. Sherlock looked at the papers that were spread out around the flat. He smirked at the title "musical prodigy." Sherlock shook his head. "You've got the wrong role model, Brother," he said, taking note of the Beethoven compositions lying around. Sherlock approached his brother and looked him straight in the eye. "Bach is far better."