Why Aren't I A Detective...?

Hi there. The name's John Homes. Is it okay if I ask you a few questions? ((Independent OC blog for John Homes, and undercover police officer. In correspondence with "full-chamber". For about page and other pages, click on the +.)) ((Face Claim: Frederick Abberland from Black Butler.))

[hanarichinspiration-blog]

[all] quirks my muse habitually has.

Writers, bold all of your character’s regular truths.

1. Smoking: the action or habit of inhaling and exhaling the smoke of tobacco or a drug. 2. Binge drinking: the consumption of an excessive amount of alcohol in a short period of time.  3. Drug abuse: the habitual taking of illegal drugs. 4. Nail biting: a common body language sign of anxiety/tension. 5. Lip biting: a common body language sign of anxiety/tension. 6. Night Owl: a person who is habitually active or wakeful at night. 7. Early bird: a person who rises, arrives, or acts before the usual or expected time. 8. Negative attitudes: a philosophy of approaching life with criticism and pessimism. 9. Positive attitudes: a philosophy of approaching life with optimism and confidence. 10. Swearing: the use of offensive language. 11. Superstitious: an irrational belief that an object, action, or circumstance not logically related to a course of events influences its outcome. 12. Inspecting fingernails: a common body language sign of boredom. 13. Scratching your neck: a common body language sign of uncertainty. 14. Foot and finger tapping: a common body language sign of stress/impatience. 15. Nose touch: a subtle body language sign of deceit. 16. Flipping hair: a common body language sign of craving attention. 17. Twirling hair: a common body language sign of flirtation. 18. Cracking knuckles: a common body language sign of readiness. 19. Hands behind back: a common body language sign of confidence. 20. Finger pointing: a common body language sign of authority. 21. Hands on hips: a common body language sign of readiness. 22: Hands in pockets: a common body language sign of mistrust/reluctance. 23. Frequent touch: a common body language sign of warmth/familiarity. 24. Throat-clearing: a common body language sign of rejection/doubt. 25: Jaw-clenching: a common body language sign of hostility. 26: Eye-rolling: a common body language sign of irritation. 27: Head-tilt: a common body language sign of interest. 28. Whistling: to emit high-pitched sound by forcing breath through a small hole between one’s lips or teeth; usually to a tune. 29. Humming: make a low, steady continuous sound like that of a bee; usually to a tune. 30. Perfectionism: refusal to accept any standard short of perfection. 31. Photographic memory: the ability to remember information or visual images in great detail. 32. Paranoia: a mental condition characterized by delusions of persecution, unwarranted jealousy, or exaggerated self-importance, typically worked into an organized system. 33. Exaggeration: a statement that represents something as better or worse than it really is. 34: Intuitive: using or based on what one feels to be true even without conscious reasoning; instinctive. 35: Quick-witted: showing or characterized by an ability to think or respond quickly and effectively. 36: Interrupting: breaking the continuity of a conversation with one’s own statements. 37: Doodling: to scribble or make rough drawings, absent-mindedly. 38: Irritable: having or showing a tendency to be easily annoyed. 39: Gambling: to play games of chance for money; bet. 40: Travel-sick: suffering from nausea caused by the motion of a moving vehicle, boat, or aircraft. 41: Sensitive: having or displaying a quick and delicate appreciation of others’ feelings. 42: Melancholy: a feeling of pensive sadness, typically with no obvious cause. 43: Chewing gum: the exercise of chewing flavoured gum which is not intended for swallowing. 44: Fidgeting: to make small movements, especially of the hands and feet, through nervousness or impatience. 45: Skeptical: not easily convinced; having doubts or reservations. 46: Neat-freak: compulsively obsessed with cleanliness. 47: Gossiping: divulging personal information about others. 48: Prim: feeling or showing disapproval of anything regarded as improper; stiffly correct. 49: Abbreviating: Giving others nicknames/shortening names/giving pet names. 50: Having a catchphrase: having a sentence or phrase typically associated with a specific person.

[k--kurisu-deactivated20140804]

        If you’re a roleplayer and you roleplay something other than smut and ships, please reblog this. My dash is dead and I need some more people to follow.

[sorta-like-holmes-blog]

Start a Thread with Me Using Any of These Lines

"Whatcha reading?"

"Whatcha cooking?"

"Can I have some of that?"

"Hi, are you new?"

"What are you drawing?"

"Have I seen you somewhere before?"

"Want to get a coffee?"

"Have you seen my (you specify object)?"

"Hi there, how are you?"

"Do you believe in love at first sight?"

"Do you work here?"

"Can we be friends?"

"Is this seat taken?"

"Your gas cap is open."

"Your fly is down."

"Your shoes are untied."

"Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"What are you doing?"

"Want to hang out?"

"Who are you?"

"What brings you to (you specify place)?"

[the-write-ideas]

What's one thing you've learned about me since following my blog?

[sorta-like-holmes-blog]

Smooth Jazz (Open Starter)

[camillelafaye]

-

    Through her first drink, ordered quietly and taken with small sips from her secluded corner, Camille found herself just as out of place and high-strung as she had been since her arrival. She’d known just how far away her home was, separated now by an ocean from her place in the quaint, calm pub. The realization came rather in waves, however: reinforced with the accents of those she found herself surrounded by daily, the foods and drink set before her at each meal.

    Even with her wary glances outside to the Ireland streets, the passing overcoats and cheerful, unfamiliar faces, the cobblestone of the roads outside and the foreign-scented air, she felt herself being swallowed by her isolation. A whisper of a sigh faded from her and into the close air of her surroundings. She’d never felt more a stranger in her days.

Though, her eyes lifted when she heard, at last, some semblance of familiarity about her. Lain delicately over the calming noises of the everyday was the gentle, soothing sound of piano keys, from within the bar she’d taken temporary refuge in.

A small grin came to her, she recognizing all too readily the traces of her own musical roots being accented into what was being played. It only grew as the song continued, pulling her to lean closer toward its source and hum silently with the melody she found…

She was slow to take movement, wanting to draw in the music without the distraction of outside stimuli, but still working her careful way to the man at the keys. With her grateful expression still softly across her features, she slipped out what little she could, stuffing the few, loose bills she had into the tiny bowl atop the baby grand.

Her eyes flitted to his, hearing his humble thanks, and she could only breathe out a small chuckle with her response, “…W—I had to, baby..!” 

[sorta-like-holmes-blog]

He visited Ireland by chance, through a series of airline cancellations that would normally get him to Britain, and a surprise snowstorm that caught the entire London region off guard. He disliked the city's intense nationalistic presence for the most part, but the part of him that he gained from living in Boston made him feel at home, albeit slightly.

The only refuge he found from the raucous atmosphere of O'Malley's pub was in the keys, and in that refuge he played from his vast repertoire of melodies. The tip jar was there partially out of habit and partially out of convenience; getting a little money never hurt anyone, right?

Just when he thought it was time to put away the tip jar, a lingering hand stuffed a few bills into the cup and John smiled. At a glance, he could tell from her nails that she was a woman, and faint indentations on her fingers told him that she played a string instrument finger-style, most likely low.

He offered his thanks to the woman upon finishing the song, and she replied with an equally humble and relaxed compliment. She was definitely from America, but the region was too hard to tell just by hearing her. His smile grew at her generous reply.

"You're too kind, miss. Do you have any requests?"

[sorta-like-holmes-blog]

//*coughs* Sure thing dude

[sorta-like-holmes-blog]

╪Ω≈♡

╪: What country are you from?

//I'm from America, baby, home of the free. Northeast America, that is.

Ω: Show your face!

≈: Mun nickname

//Sorry to say, but I don't really have any nicknames. Everybody just calls me Andrew.

♡: Your favourite film, book and television series.

//I can't say I have a favorite film, but my favorite book is The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien, and my favorite TV series is Cowboy Bebop.

[blueboxesandparadoxes]

IT'S MUNDAY :P

[ask-a-rwby-character]

≈: Mun nickname ♫: What’s your gender? ☼: How old are you? ╪: What country are you from? Ω: Show your face! ☮: How long have you been rp’ing? ♥: What fandoms are you in? ♡: Your favourite film, book and television series. ♦: Relationship status? ♣: Song you’re listening to right now? §: Favourite song? ∞: Celebrity crush?

[avastmejellies]

sorta-like-holmes started following you

The guy reeks of cop and probably finds watching paint dry fascinating. Maybe he’s a rookie. Never pulled a weapon on anyone.

So Johnny’s not terribly concerned that his crew is delivering stolen goods onto the ship, but he might as well cover them.

"Officer!" Johnny proclaims, all smiles and sunshine. He thumbs up at the massive Mayship. "I realize we have a broken taillight. We’re on our way to get it fixed now." 

[sorta-like-holmes-blog]

It seemed like Homes was dealing with pirates all over the place these days. This particular gang, however, looked more like a one-man brothel. Even still, he was given a tip-off from his buddies at the precinct that this 'Mayship' was holding stolen cargo.

And on top of that, their taillight was broken. That was fine by John, though; it made for a good way to get on the ship.

"Ah, hello, sir." Just one glance screamed it all; this captain was hiding something. Nobody he's pulled over has ever been this happy to see a cop. Especially one not in uniform. "You might need to get that fixed. Mind if I hop on the ship and check it out for a second?"

[naragun-deactivated20161113]

I highly recommend you follow the person I reblogged this from.

[thetimelordmacabre]

What if the MUN had a warning label? What would it say?

[theforgottenmikaelsonsister-dea]

Reblog if I can tag you in a random starter

[the-ship-without-a-name-blog]

The Laws of Anarchy (( @sortalikeholmes ))

[the-ship-without-a-name-blog]

She chuckles as she makes her way to the bar. “That be a dangerous thing to tell a sailor, lad.” Sitting down at the bar, she motions to the barkeep. “I’ll take a bottle o’ what be yer strongest rum, if ye’d be so inclined.”

The bartender grunts disinterestedly and begins to take down a bottle, but the pirate captain interrupts as if she had just had an idea. “Oh, and ye don’t per chance have a measure o’ sugarcane in this hole, do ye?”

The bartender walks over to where several spices lay in containers, scooped out a small portion of sugar, placing it in a small bowl usually containing peanuts. This was rather unorthodox, but he’s certainly had stranger requests from stranger people. After giving her a bottle of Bacardi 151 and the bowl of sugar, he walks off to grab her a shot glass.

She smiles mischieveously, taking out a separate flask from the one she had pulled out from the car and a small drawstring bag. She turns to her companion as the barkeep placed the shots in front of them. “Ye be a drinkin’ man, Mr. Homes?”

[sorta-like-holmes-blog]

John gulped in apprehension as he sat on his stool. What did he get himself into? Just how intense of a drinker was this girl?

She ordered the heaviest kind of rum? Maybe she was a pirate from space, after all. Questions like this flooded his head, and he snapped back to reality when Elisa asked him a question.

"Hm? No, sorry, I can't say I am." Then it occurred to him that he never ordered himself a drink. He turned to the bartender and asked, "Could I have a black coffee, please?"

Homes then turned back to Elisa, his 'drinking buddy'. The heavy drink was set down on the table in front of her with a "drink up" from the bartender. He looked at her with concerned admiration.

"Good luck with that."

[the-ship-without-a-name-blog]

The Laws of Anarchy (( @sortalikeholmes ))

She brushes past the man and gazes around at the interior. No matter what world she may be in, nothing feels more like home than the smell of alcohol and the sight of low lives. Her true home may be on the Nameless, but dives are a close second.

While taking in the familiar sight of sin and wasted life force, she answers the man. “That be an interestin’ question, Mr. Homes. She doesn’t have a name, aye, but me and me crew call her Nameless, fer convenience.”

Finally deciding to turn towards him, she gives an almost feminine-looking smile. “Ye wouldn’t be the type o’ gentleman to buy a lady a drink, would ye?”

[sorta-like-holmes-blog]

Homes followed Elisa in, closing his only connection to sanctuary, the front door, behind him. He was immediately flooded by the sights, sounds, and smells of depression and drunkenness. He hated bars--they were far too brazen, too raucous. He scanned the unfamiliar territory for a piano to no avail, and instead just hoped they would serve coffee.

He took note of its lack of a name and couldn't find any observational use aside from a pleasant little anecdote, and walked up to Elisa side by side, his pace slow and long compared to hers. He returned her attempt at an innocent smile, learning that she was willing to put on a pretty face to get something she strongly desires.

"Certainly, Captain, if you're the type of lady to accept one."

[astrum-bibliotheca-archive]

A Study in Scarlet

[astrum-bibliotheca-archive]

She ponders the question for a bit. All of these books were either from her own father’s collection or were added by her visitors. Whether or not they’re in her possession now or not is absolutely lost on the odd girl.

"I have no idea!"

She suddenly remembers that she completely neglected to ask her visitor’s name, which is usually one of the first things she asks — before asking about the world they had come from, at least.

"Ah! I completely forgot to ask for your name!…Also, what was your meeting about?"

[sorta-like-holmes-blog]

The more and more he studied this young girl, the more perplexing she became. She didn't know to whom this massive collection belonged? She was either incredibly naive or hiding something, yet it was most likely the former.

The fact that she pressed the notion of this meeting intrigued Homes. In what odd world can one's profession be determined at a simple glance? Unless, of course, she was judging by his attire....

"The name's John Homes, miss, and I can't say I've been to any meetings recently."

[sorta-like-holmes-blog]

//It always feels good to make theme renovations.

//It looks 1000x better now.

[fuckinq]

follow the person this was reblogged from

this really works for some people (like 10-30 new followers) so give it a try!