I realise nobody has heard from me in about a month (I mean the Hoglockers, on AIM. Of course nobody's heard from me on my Tumblr) because of various reasons, but I just wanted to pop on and say that I am not dead!
Hurray!
I'm now sitting on AIM waiting for someone to log on. Where is everyone? I need some Hoglock love. When will the hiatus end? Can we all just have a cuddle and be friends? I miss you all lots!
I’m sure most of you have noticed how often we seem to lag with the plot on here due to some of our members being busy with real life, and with such a plot-centric RP things like that are bound to happen. But our John has just notified me that she’ll be on very infrequently and is unlikely to hold her John position for the time being. Since she is one of Hoglock’s founders and one of my favorite people ever, not to mention hugely important to the plot, I thought now would be a good time to put an indefinite pause on things, especially with things being as slow as they are.
Hoglock is my baby, and I’ve met some of the most amazing people on here, not only my fellow roleplayers but our devoted followers.
We might be back in the future so think of this as a hiatus. I loved playing Sherlock and I know all our members love Hoglock as much as our John and I do. Keep us in your thoughts, and feel free to ask us for our personal tumblrs if you’d like to stay in touch! I know I’ve talked to some amazing followers on here (I’m talking to YOU theunnamedconductor, ellierratic!) and I’d definitely want to stay in touch.
Thank you so much for supporting us! We may all come back, in fact, I’m sure we will in the future! Sherlock will always be going on homoerotic trysts with Jawn and figuratively (and literally, through his owl) pooping on Sally and Anderson in my heart, Jim and Irene will always be trolling Hogwarts, etc, etc!
Oh my god, you fly to Hungary and THIS HAPPENS. Cry cry :( guys I am going to miss you all so much. Hoglock is my favourite RP that I'm in. I'm still going to log in every chance I get. I mean, not right now because I'm at work for like ten days straight, but this is the worst news ever ;( really heartbroken.
Oh okay. I'm not very well versed in opera, but do you like any modern musicians?
There's a lot of modern opera singers whom I like. I was fortunate enough to see Renee Fleming in La Traviata, and she was absolutely breathtaking. The overture to La Traviata is without a doubt one of my favourite pieces of music.
In terms of actual modern music... to tell the truth, I'm not awfully familiar with it. My parents always considered it a waste of time, and I never actively sought it out. I like most things with a good beat, things that you can dance to. I will always prefer classical music, though.
I heard you like art. :) Do you paint? Who are your favorite artists?
I love art. I'm naturally more of a musician than a painter- I'm particularly interested in singing, and I've received training in opera.
I do paint a little, though. I favour watercolours. They're very soft and elegant looking, and it's difficult to go wrong. I don't find the time that often, though, so it's generally just ink sketches of things I find interesting. As far as my favourite artists, that's a big question. There's an old Muggle painter, Berthe Morisot, who I rather like right now. The way she paints faces is absolutely charming.
I'm also quite intrigued by Charles Rennie Mackintosh. My room at home is based around his famous rose design. Although I dearly love opulent art, when it comes to interior design, I'm something of a minimalist.
Obviously if you’ve only ever seen my parents on formal occasions when they have to keep up a certain veneer you wouldn’t understand my “sensitivities” towards them.
Perhaps. John seems to be very adamant that I not return to the Holmes manor. If we find suitable housing for ourselves by then I’ll be sure to extend to you an invitation. -SH
Obviously. Your parents aren't the only ones who wear masks for show, you know. You might try looking in a mirror. However, I'm fully prepared to believe that you have reason to be sensitive about them.
John seems even more sensitive than you- don't tell him I said that. I can't imagine your home life is so awful, but I suppose it's fairly normal to move out when you turn sixteen, so whatever makes you happy. I'm sure I would love to see your place when you find it. I absolutely promise not to spike anybody's drink. -IA
Sensitive? Well, regardless, I appreciate your taking my privacy into consideration. John Watson actually housed me for the majority of the break. Made me ride a car.
I considered writing to you as well, but I assumed you’d be much too occupied to be bothered with my trivialities. I’ll remember not to make the same assumption in the future then, if your break was uneventful as you say it was.
Yes, sensitive. There's no shame in being sensitive, even if it's not the most masculine of traits. Of course you stayed with John. I'm not sure why you're so anti your parents, they seem perfectly nice in my vague recollections. Goodness, you rode a car? A real Muggle automobile? How exciting! And you escaped unscathed.
I hope you know me better than that, Sherlock- I would never be too busy to bother with your 'trivialities', even if I was doing more than seeing some old friends. Perhaps over the Easter break my parents will have forgiven me and we can attend one of your family's events. -IA
Hm, you’re right. I suppose his Beater training has taught him formidable self-restraint and discipline. Shame, really.
I’m sure you’ve seen The Daily Prophet. I was surprised I didn’t see you and your family. My father seems to think highly of your father. The party would have been far more bearable with your biting tongue, although I can’t blame you for not making it. -SH
Yes, I could hardly miss the article. I didn't spend much time at home, but I believe your father came to one of my parent's cocktail parties over the holidays, though I'm not sure why they didn't visit your home. I considered writing to you, but I thought you might value a little privacy and space- you've always seemed a little sensitive about the man.
Unfortunately, my parents refuse to take me anywhere the entire Adler family receives an invitation to. Some ridiculous misunderstanding over a waitress at one of our parties last autumn. I'm sorry to have missed the opportunity to see you. -IA
Friend | Godfrey Norton was the best friend Irene had, and she realised this when they were seven years old.
Friend:
Godfrey Norton was the best friend Irene had, and she realised this when they were seven years old. His parents had brought him over so that the Adlers and the Nortons could have drinks, and so the two children were confined to the kitchen. They were in the process of making a cake- Muggle style, since neither of them could hope to do anything magical at their age. Irene was perched cross legged on top of the counter stirring flour into the cake batter, and Godfrey was up on his tiptoes, whisking eggs. They had been working with the sort of studious silence only ever found in young children intent on a task, when Godfrey spoke, not looking up from his frothy bowl of eggs.
“You know Caroline who we sometimes see at the park?”
Irene nodded, sticking a spoon into the bowl and licking it.
“I really fancy her,” Godfrey informed her.
“Yeah,” Irene said, looking up at the ceiling briefly. “Me too. She’s funny,”
“Yeah,” Godfrey didn’t bat an eyelash, but went right back to whisking his eggs solemnly.
Courage | It's no secret that Irene oozes confidence- she always has. What's a bit more of a secret is how difficult it is for her to maintain.
Fan | “Let me paint you a little picture of how it went,” Irene said, throwing a wad of parchment at Kate’s head. “It has a lot of splatters and blobs, uses a lot of green and silver, and there’s a gaping great hole in the middle from where the artist stabbed it with her paintbrush,”
Courage:
It’s no secret that Irene oozes confidence- she always has. What’s a bit more of a secret is how difficult it is for her to maintain. When she was at Beauxbatons, the girls all whispered about her. She was a slut, she was a whore, she was a dyke. A lot of fifteen year old girls would have changed in the face of those whispers, tried to fit in, but Irene wouldn’t. She was happy, she enjoyed her body, and she saw no reason why that would make her a slut or anything else derogatory, even though it hurt her to hear those things from other people.
Her attitude to life didn’t make her terribly popular- particularly at an all girl’s school- but she didn’t intend on pretending to be something she’s not. Similarly, she doesn’t lie about her feelings. Ask her what she thinks about Sherlock and she’ll give you an honest answer.
For a fifteen year old girl, some things take more courage than just fighting the bad guys.
Fan:
“Let me paint you a little picture of how it went,” Irene said, throwing a wad of parchment at Kate’s head. “It has a lot of splatters and blobs, uses a great deal of green and silver, and there’s a gaping great hole in the middle of the canvas from where the artist stabbed it with her paintbrush,”
Kate didn’t reply. She hadn’t known Irene for long, but it was long enough to know when it was a bad idea to talk back. Irene’s eyes were still red around the edges, her fingers shaking in the kind of unbridled fury that was very difficult to provoke in her. She was confident that she had beaten Mycroft when she had mentioned the Vow he had made, but he had one last trick to play on her. The fact that the trick had been aimed at Jim didn’t even remotely comfort her. While she recounted the events of the day, she could feel her blood boiling.
If she had learned anything from today, it’s that she was not a fan of Mycroft Holmes.
3 + 4 [in which Irene works on her social skills and discusses relief]
Relief | The bread basket was always Irene’s favourite part of eating at restaurants.
Basket | Relief was one of Irene’s favourite feelings, and certainly one of the most pleasurable she could think of.
Basket:
The bread basket was always Irene’s favourite part of eating at restaurants. She was too young to have really mastered the art of conversation, so when her parents set her up with the son of someone rich that they thought she might marry, she spent a lot of time interacting with the bread basket. She had long ago discovered that boys were fascinated with girls’ hands, and so she spent a great deal of time picking up rolls and tearing them up, licking butter off her fingers.
As long as she busied herself with that, the boys didn’t much notice that she wasn’t too talkative, not to mention not even remotely interested in them.
Relief:
Relief was one of Irene’s favourite feelings, and certainly one of the most pleasurable she could think of. She loved the mental sense of relief that came after finishing a particularly big homework assignment and all of the usual things, but more than that she loved the physical sense of relief. Her first experience with this came when she lost her virginity, and she felt indescribably light. Euphoric, even.
That is, in a way, one of Irene’s favourite things about sex- the sense of relief and release that comes with it. She’s been known to put herself into dangerous situations, just because she knows how much she’ll savour the relief when she gets herself out of it.
1 + 2 [in which Irene is obsessive and a little bit of a show off]
Sherlock | Irene likes to watch Sherlock. He is a constant source of fascination to her.
Magic | Irene was one of those showy witches. She couldn’t help herself- she loved a spectacle.
Sherlock:
Irene likes to watch Sherlock. He is a constant source of fascination to her. She’s never sure if he’s so lacking in self-awareness that he hasn’t noticed, or if he just can’t be bothered picking her up on it, but either way, he leaves her in peace. While she watches, she sketches. She now has a rather fine collection of drawings of Sherlock- hunched over a book beneath a tree, laughing with John, bored in class, any situation, in short, in which she has seen him.
Some of the girls in her dormitory have tried to convince her that she fancies him, but she refuses to believe it’s anything so plebeian. In any case, she’s known for a long time that she’s gay. Fancying Sherlock isn’t an option.
Magic:
Irene was one of those showy witches. She couldn’t help herself- she loved a spectacle. While everyone else in her class concentrated their power into performing the spell accurately, she concentrated on the colour, the smoke, the noise and the smell. In her opinion, not enough people appreciated how beautiful spells could be. Depending on how you concentrated as you cast it, you could bring out different senses in it. Levitating objects, for example, could have a sea-salt smell. The smoke from a blocking spell could take on a lavender hue. The smoke that rose from summoning an object could be formed into a starburst.
Of course, this happened at the cost of weakening her spells. Irene’s professors were constantly berating her for choosing style over substance, and her grades were never what they could be. It would never stop her though- she was convinced that everyone else had their priorities wrong.
snowghoul
germansingergirl
baratheonpilled
prguitarman
discoholicmusic
