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@jen-watson-md
A version of Sherlock’s Theme I made, played from samples of hitting and ringing a wine glass.
*SCREAMING* THIS IS AMAZING
ooc: LET ME PLAY YOU THE SONG OF MY PEOPLE
THE SONG OF MY PEOPLE.
IF THIS ISNT ART THEN I DONT KNOW WHAT IS
BEAUTIFUL DFCVGBHNJK,MJNHB
CHILLS I TELL YOU
CHILLS
Ooooh~
Jen listened intently, straining to hear anything beyond the silence that surrounded her. She thought she might have... No, it had to have been her imagination. She struggled against the chains, only to realize that somehow, in the time she'd been occupied, were now unlocked. Slowly removing her hands, and cautiously rubbing her wrists, she wonders at it for a mere moment before climbing, unsteadily, to her feet.
"Sherlock, can you hear me?" She calls, not expecting a reply, but hoping... Hearing nothing, she walks over to the door, carefully listening at it. More silence. Turning the knob, it opens, quietly, and she steps out, only to find and empty hallway, and a few more doors. She tries each one, in turn, and none are unlocked. "Bloody hell..."
Maybe if she went back to her "cell", she could find some clues... or break the glass in the mirror window, and check the next room. Upon checking the desk, she finds a skeleton key... and a note.
"Dear Ms. Watson,
I am truly sorry it had to come to this, but your dear detective left me no choice.
There are four locked doors, and the key will open each, but only one is the correct door. The others have various... booby traps, if you will. Let's see what you've learned from Sherlock, and put you to the test.
The first door to your left, is empty, perhaps. Breaking the mirrored glass will do you more harm than good. Maybe.
The door directly across, is rigged with explosives. Or was it the one on your right, I don't recall... Anyway, the next, and last door is the correct one.
If you choose correctly, you'll be in an empty room again, save for a comfy chair. Have a seat, and see if your detective can make it through his test. After all, can't play a game with only one player~
Good luck, Ms. Watson, I hope to see you again, someday.
~M."
"Damnit!" She sits on the edge of the desk, exasperated. Reading the letter again, she starts the process of elimination in her mind, before going to gently check the doors. She hopes, fervently, that Sherlock can get through his test....
This ribbon reminds me of Sherlock for some reason….
This does remind me of the wallpaper in the flat....
Erhmagherd, gaiz. Lmfao! Here's the quote mentioned in the above article. I'm curious to see how this turns out!
PTSD usually appears within three months of the trauma, but sometimes the disorder appears later. Symptoms for PTSD fall into three categories:
Intrusion In people with PTSD, memories of the trauma reoccur unexpectedly, and episodes called “flashbacks” intrude into their current lives. This happens when sudden, vivid memories, accompanied by painful emotions, take over the person’s attention. Flashbacks may be so strong that individuals feel like they are actually re-living the traumatic experience or seeing it unfold before their eyes and in nightmares.
Avoidance Avoidance symptoms affect relationships with others: The person often avoids close emotional ties with family, colleagues, and friends. At first, the person may feel numb, have diminished emotions, and may only complete routine, mechanical activities. Later, when re-living the traumatic event, the individual may alternate between a flood of emotions caused by the flashback and an inability to feel or express emotions at all. A person with PTSD avoids situations or activities that are reminders of the original traumatic event.
The inability of a person with PTSD to work out grief, anger or fear from the traumatic event means the trauma can continue to affect the person’s behavior without them being aware of it. Depression is a common product of this inability to resolve painful feelings. Some people also feel guilty because they survived a disaster if others—particularly friends or family—did not.
Hyperarousal PTSD can cause individuals to act as if they are constantly threatened by the trauma that caused their illness. They can become suddenly irritable or explosive, even when unprovoked. They may have trouble concentrating or remembering current information, and, because of terrifying nightmares, may develop insomnia. This constant feeling that danger is near causes exaggerated startle reactions.
Jen was startled awake by a loud CRACK, in the next room, she guessed. She quickly calmed down, and seeing as there was a dim light on what looked like a small table, or desk, she figured she hadn't been alone for long. Shifting slightly, she held her breath for a moment, listening. Hearing nothing else, she adjusted her hands in the cuffs, amazed her hands weren't numb at all. She desperately hoped that the two men wouldn't come back anytime soon, although she was curious about the noise. It sounded like a gunshot, but maybe whatever they'd injected her with had caused her to dream oddly.
Resignedly, she sits back against the cold, hard wall, looking up at her pinned wrists, examining the metal cuffs. "Hmm... I might get free if I could just.... Oh, bloody hell..." Forcing herself to slump over like she had been, she closes her eyes just as someone enters the room. She barely had time to wonder, when he spoke.
"Eh, looks like she's still out, wonder when Boss'll let us have some fun..." The man cackles, and Jen forces herself to feign being drugged. If he so much as touched her, he'd know how unhappy she was in this situation. If she timed it right, and didn't open her eyes, a well placed kick might impede his plans, or he'd forget them altogether... She silently prayed he wouldn't bother her.
After a while, making sure she was still out, he left, muttering something unintelligible to the other guy, Jen presumed, who was standing guard outside. Then the door shut, and she slowly opened her eyes... to find herself in utter darkness. It didn't bother her much... it was the unknown that frightened her.
She couldn't see or hear anything. Now, Jen was really worried. This is why she always slept with a small light on, and a radio, quietly playing music...
In the silent night, her flashbacks would start again...
Jen paces the apartment after Sherlock leaves, trying to resist following him. “That bloody idiot… If he gets hurt, it’s my fault, seeing as I’m not there…” Muttering to herself, she doesn’t stop, till she nearly runs over Mrs. Hudson. “Oh, dear, Doctor, are you ok? Where’s Sherlock?” Jen helped her regain her balance, not looking at her. “He’s… he’s on a case. Said it was too dangerous for me to go along this time.” Mrs. Hudson gives her a look that says it all, but she speaks anyway. “You’ve not let that stop you yet, not since you came into this flat. You’re a soldier as well as a doctor… now, what are you going to do?” Jen stares at her, then smiling, she knew what she had to do. Hugging the older woman, she grabs her coat, dashing out the door. “If that monster touches a hair on his head, I’m going to….” Something made her stop in her tracks. Suddenly, she felt pain, and then, nothing….
She comes to her senses, slowly, groggily. Moaning slightly, she tries to rub her head… Oh, how it hurt. Like she’d been on a long drinking bender. But something stops her. She’s handcuffed… No. Manacled, to a wall. As she got her bearings, Jen realized that she was in trouble. “Where in the blazes am I? Hello? Anyone else here?” After listening for a long moment, she relaxed a bit. “Now, how to break free…” She set about observing her surroundings, and fiddling with the manacles. Suddenly, she hears voices. She stops, and realizes her best bet is to appear to be out cold, still. Closing her eyes, she allows her body to slump over, breathing shallowly. “Oi, mate. She’s still out… Ya think I hit her too hard?” Another voice answers. “Nah, but the boss doesn’t want to take any chances she’ll escape… Or die trying.” They both laugh, and the smell of booze and cigarettes fill Jen’s airspace. “Too bad, she’s pretty…” There’s a small, sharp pain in her neck, and she mentally struggles to stay calm. She’d been drugged before, just never like this. Thinking to herself, just before she slips back into nothingness… “You had better work quickly, Sherlock…”
"...What. Are you... You're bloody kidding me. Aren't you?" Jen pauses in her tracks, the tea ware and tray still in her hands. "You can't go alone, he'll trap you...."
The reality of what he'd said hit her, and she clams up, storming to the kitchen. She forces herself to set the tray down gently, breaking anything wouldn't help. "That idiot... going to get himself killed..."
Sitting in one of the chairs with a clear spot on the table, she rests her elbows on the surface, leaning into her hands. She rubs her face in frustration, wondering how to get around him.
Letting him go alone was the last thing she'd ever do, whether he liked it, or knew about it, or not. She was a soldier, as well as a doctor. He didn't want to admit he /needed/ her.
“Oh, by all means, Sherlock, Miss Watson, do go on and reveal all. I’d be more than willing to sit and listen. My class could be canceled last minute. Goodness knows I’ve done it before. Not often, of course….” Moriarty just smirks, leaning up against his desk.
Grinning with a wicked gleam in his eye, he walks away from his desk and right up to Sherlock. “My dear, you can walk away the victor, but trust me. We all fall in the end. So go on, threaten me as you will. It’s not going to be so easy for me to slip up. I’m sure you’ve nothing better to do, other than bother me. But trust me, this isn’t phasing me in the least. It’s entertaining.” Looking up at the man before him, he chuckles softly. “I’m not threatened by you, Holmes. Nor your little…. pet.”
“Just try to do something. I dare you, Sherlock. Do it…” He leaned in dangerously close, not enough to touch him, because he wouldn’t be caught dead making the first real move. No, these games were meant to be played at a steady pace, seen by others or kept to the shadows. It would only be a matter of time before someone slipped up…..
“You want me to make the first move, so your men have an excuse to to pick me off in the street as we leave? I don’t think so. I’ll get to you in time, don’t you worry about that.” He broke eye contact, after what seemed like ages, and to his partner he said, “Jen, we’re leaving.”
The duo moved swiftly to the door, but before Sherlock crossed the threshold, he turned back with a piercing look and a small smirk playing across his lips. “As long as I drag you kicking and screaming to hell with me, falling doesn’t sound too bad.”
With a final swish of his greatcoat, the detective was gone.
Jen went to follow him out, but then paused, looking back at the slight man in the expensive looking suit. "I'm still not sure what it is you have against Sherlock, but be warned: I'm not scared of you." With that said, she turns, hurrying to catch up to the detective. "I apologize for my outburst. I just... I can't stand his smugness."
Hoping he wasn't too furious with her, she slips into her own thoughts, quietly walking alongside him, doing her best to match his strides.
New glasses! Yes, that's turquoise on the inner part, reddish brown on the outside.
I can see! But my visions worse. I've started to develop an astigmatism in my left eye, while the right one is slightly worse than before.
CLICK FOR HD VERSION
Superwholock CROSSOVER: Demon!Sherlock
sdfafdasdfasfdsafd
Oh, shi-.....
Happy Valentine's day, John.
Pixiv ~
THIS IS BEAUTIFUL ;;;;;
#I FEEL LIKE MY HEART WAS JUST STEPPED ON BY AN ELEPHANT CARRYING THE EMPIRE STATE BUILDING ON ITS BACK AND WEARING DAGGERS FOR SHOES #IT HURTS SO GOOD
Yes. I would, in a bloody heartbeat.
Because I know he would for me.
I’m a consulting 12-year-old, I invented the job
((Oh, boys...))
“And you do realize the only reason you found me was simple? Correct me if I’m wrong, but if I didn’t want to be found, I wouldn’t have been…. At least not by you.” Moriarty moves from behind his desk, folding his arms across his chest, keeping his gaze on Sherlock.
He wasn’t concerned about Jen at all, in fact he wasn’t as… intrigued by her as he was captivated by Sherlock.
“Darling, whatever for? I’ve got the world on strings and you come marching in to tell me that you’re disappointed? Honestly, I expected more from you. Although perhaps I shouldn’t, given the circumstances…” He raised an eyebrow, pausing for only a moment before he continued.
“Tell me Sherlock, what did you really come here for? Because I doubt it’s just to chat it up with me. Though I can’t say that I’ll complain, listening to that voice of yours… My dear, you’re not as smart as you seem if you’re willing to come to me.”
The detective scowls momentarily at the insult to his intelligence but he bites he tongue and quickly smooths out his expression into one of cool confidence. ”I suppose it’s a bit of a daring move on my part, but right now the ball is in my court. You’re in the middle of a crowded university where every single person knows you; you aren’t going to do anything to me,” he sneers, cockily chancing several steps closer to the professor. ”Not now, not ever. Such a gaping hole in your defenses and you didn’t even bother to try to hide it. I can get to you here any time of my choosing.”
He circles the slighter man slowly like a vicious hunter about to take down its prey, never once taking his hungry eyes away. ”What about now, hm?” He crowds in closer, attempting to use his height to intimidate, and the two are practically breathing each other’s air. “What’s to stop me from simply calling in the Yard and ending this all right this moment?”
Jen, feeling somewhat ignored, watches the two circle each other like a couple of angry cats. “It’d be no good as of right now, Sherlock… any evidence we have is circumstantial at best. But we’ll get him. Trust me.” Smirking at the smaller man, she tilts her head to the side. “We came to see if it really was you… a professor. Huh, I guess they’ll take just anyone these days,i including common criminals… I’d enjoy my freedom as long as I could if I were in your shoes… once we submit the proof, you’re as good as gone.”
She walks up, placing a hand on Sherlock’s arm. “We should go, it’s about time for his next class. I checked the schedule before we left the flat. No need for a commotion in front of the students…”
