#adlock rp

[moriartymused]

PSA for former Omegle roleplayers

Just off work and I'm beat so I won't be working on tumblr replies tonight but I did just want to post the good news for former Omegle roleplayers - rolechat.org is very active for Sherlock roleplayers and according to my partners many people have migrated over. That roulette style roleplay seems to live on!

[godofbones]

Iain Davis

His background and other information can be viewed here:

https://www.notebook.ai/plan/characters/70052

[shrlxckedarchives]

                       [ O P E N - R P ]  

Age: 39 Sex: Male Interface: Tumblr, Skype (kassjane), AIM ([email protected]) Style: Para Info: My Sherlock is fully canon show-verse. Occasional minimal AU themes. I will rp anything, no triggers, nothing is off limits. For smut, my Sherlock is a bottom. Ships: Multiship (Sherlolly / Johnlock / Sheriarty / Adlock)

Send me a message or ask if you want to plot. If you send a request or message to my skype or AIM please contact me here as well so I know who you are.

[221bottlesofbeeronthewall]

***TW: physical abuse**

      You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!

  You both like adlock, shirene, unilock, sherene, and teenlock.

  Stranger: Take a photo. It lasts longer. IA (20)

  You: I'm not staring at you. SH (19)

  Stranger: No? Then what are you staring at? IA

  You: The bruise on your waist. SH

  Stranger: Then you are staring at me. Leave it alone. IA

  You: Who? SH

  Stranger: Who what? IA

  You: Who hurt you? SH

Must have been a man, given the size and shape of the bruise. SH

Thought you didn't much like men. SH

  Stranger: I do sometimes. I'm just more picky with men. Why do you think they hurt me? It could very easily be a mark from a good fucking. IA

  You: Because it wasn't. SH

  Stranger: And how would you know? IA

  You: The angle, the way he held you, the way you moved... it wasn't a kind bruise, it wasn't to hold you in place it was to hurt. SH

  Stranger: [Delayed] Yes, it was. IA

  You: So who hurt you? SH

  Stranger: No one you know. IA

  You: Irene. SH

  Stranger: It doesn't matter. Leave it alone. IA

  Stranger: Besides, it isn't like you can do anything about it. IA

  You: If it doesn't matter then tell me. SH

  Stranger: Moran. IA

  You: Thank you. SH

  Stranger: Now, leave it alone. IA

  You: Why? SH

  Stranger: Because it doesn't matter. He won't do it again. IA

  You: He won't? You know that? SH

  Stranger: No. IA

  You: Then let me be. SH

  Stranger: He could break you in half so I wouldn't bother attempting to try anything. I

  Stranger: IA*

  You: Oh I won't do anything physical. SH

  Stranger: Explain. IA

  You: He won't be bothering you any more, Irene. SH

  Stranger: Why do you even care? You don't care about anyone. IA

  You: He took advantage of someone weaker than him. He shouldn't have done that. SH

  Stranger: He does it all the time. He's a prick. IA

  Stranger: What are you planning to do? Tell me. IA

  You: He won't touch you again. SH

  Stranger: Tell me. IA

  You: You know what I do, how do you think I am going to insure that he will stop? SH

  Stranger: You're going to try blackmail him? IA

  You: Try? SH

  Stranger: Blackmail him with what? IA

  You: With what I have. SH

  Stranger: If you think the knowledge of him fucking James Moriarty will be enough to blackmail him, you're mistaken. IA

  You: I have more than that. SH

  Stranger: Oh? IA

  You: Do you really care how I make him stop, Irene? SH

  Stranger: Yes. IA

  You: Why? SH

  Stranger: Because I'd rather he didn't hurt you too. IA

  You: Sentimental. SH

  Stranger: Hypocrite. IA

  You: Just let me handle it, Irene. SH

  Stranger: No. IA

  Stranger: I know what he is capable of. IA

  You: And I can stop him! SH

  Stranger: No, you can't. IA

  Stranger: He will break you in two. IA

  You: Irene, please. SH

  Stranger: No. Just leave it. IA

  You: I cannot, not knowing what he does to you. SH

  Stranger: He thought I was getting to close to Jim. That's why he did it. IA

  You: Is it the first time he's touched you? SH

  Stranger: [Delayed] Third. IA

  You: You can't expect me to just stay. SH

  Stranger: I'm asking you too. If he does it again, then fine. You can stop him. IA

  You: I don't want to wait for him to maybe hurt you again, Irene. SH

  Stranger: And I don't want him to hurt you. IA

  You: I would rather that than know that I did nothing. SH

  Stranger: I would not rather that. IA

  You: You don't get a say. SH

  Stranger: Yes, I do. IA

  You: Why do you care what happens to me? SH

  Stranger: Why do you care what happens to me? IA

  You: Fine. SH

  You: If he so much as thinks of laying a finger on you, I step in. SH

  Stranger: Fine. IA

  You: You will keep me updated on this, yes? SH

  Stranger: I'm sure you'll see the bruises. IA

  You: Even if they're well hidden? SH

  Stranger: I will tell you. IA

  You: Good. SH

  Stranger: Can we get off the subject now? IA

  You: Fine. SH

  Stranger: Thank you. IA

  You: So who have been your victims lately? SH

  Stranger: The Head of Literature mainly. He's lovely. IA

  You: You really ought to leave the professors alone. You're going to abandon them and leave them fixated. Soon half the staff will have been your playthings. SH

  Stranger: Isn't it amazing? I feel so powerful. You know the Chem tech still send me orchids. She thinks I love them when I really don't. IA

  You: No, you love lilacs. SH

  Stranger: How do you know that? IA

  You: Obvious. SH

  Stranger: Syringa Vulgaris, yes. I like mostly wild flowers. IA

  You: You never tell your clients that. SH

  Stranger: No, I don't. IA

  You: They all send you a different flower. SH

  Stranger: Yes. Literature sends me Tiger Lillies. Chem tech, orchids. Maths, tulips. Godfrey Norton gives me white roses. IA

  Stranger: No one ever gives me red roses, which is strange. IA

  Stranger: I'm quite fond of those too, which is very cliche of me. IA

  You: You will eventually run out of departments, Miss Adler. SH

  Stranger: And they'll all be fawning over me. I won't have enough room for all the flowers. IA

  You: You like the attention. SH

  Stranger: Yes, I do. IA

  You: Do you require the attention from so many? Does the attention of one not sate you? SH

  Stranger: I get bored. I move on. IA

  Stranger: No one is interesting enough yet. IA

  You: I see. SH

  Stranger: You have to admit, everyone here is dreadfully dull. IA

  You: Yes, I'll consent to that. SH

  Stranger: Exactly. Maybe I'm just trying to find someone interesting enough to keep me sated. IA

  You: [Delayed] Well, I hope you find someone willing to sate you. SH

  Stranger: Maybe I already have. IA

  You: Maybe you have? SH

  Stranger: Yes. But I doubt he feels the same. IA

  You: He? A man? SH

  Stranger: Yes. IA

  You: Again, I thought you weren't too interested in men. SH

  Stranger: Like I said, I'm just more picky with men. IA

  You: You hardly seem picky at all lately. SH

  Stranger: That's because I'm bored. IA

  Stranger: Besides, none of them were ever going to be potentially my only lover. IA

  You: And this man is? SH

  Stranger: No one you know. IA

  You: You said that about Moran. SH

  Stranger: I did. IA

  You: So? SH

  Stranger: So I'm not telling you. IA

  You: Why not? SH

  Stranger: Because nothing will come of it. IA

  You: Of telling me? SH

  Stranger: No, of my liking him. IA

  Stranger: I'm more than certain he does not want anything with me. IA

  You: You have been wrong before. SH

  Stranger: I hope I'm wrong this time, but we'll see. IA

  You: You have never been shy. You approach your lovers constantly, why not approach him? SH

  Stranger: Because maybe he's special. IA

  You: What makes this boy so different? SH

  Stranger: He's not boring. He's clever. IA

  You: Clever. SH

  Stranger: Yes, clever. IA

  Stranger: Though you probably wouldn't approve. IA

  You: I wouldn't? SH

Its not Moriarty, tell me it's not him. SH

  Stranger: Yes. Moran beats me for even talking to Jim, but yes, I'm after Moriarty. IA

No, you idiot. It's not Moriarty. IA

  You: You're sadistic, perhaps you're also masochistic. SH

  Stranger: Not that much. Maybe a little. I

  Stranger: IA*

  You: You used to come after me. SH

  Stranger: You weren't interested. IA

  You: Never knew you as one to take that as a sign to give up. SH

  Stranger: You're making it sound like you enjoyed it. IA

  You: I never said that. SH

  Stranger: Did you? IA

  You: That's not important. SH

  Stranger: You did, didn't you? You liked me chasing you. IA

  You: What difference does it make? SH

  Stranger: A whole lot. IA

  You: Why? SH

  Stranger: It just does. IA

  You: Why so chasing me can distract from this bloke you're so in love with? SH

  Stranger: [Delayed] I'm not in love with him. IA

  You: Aren't you? The one man who can sate you? He must be so /wonderful/. It's no wonder you've lost interest in me. SH

  Stranger: He is wonderful. And so what if I'm in love with him? IA

  Stranger: It has nothing to do with you, so stop being an arse about it. IA

  You: [No response]

  Stranger: [A week later] He did it again. IA

  You: I'll handle it. SH

  You: [Delayed] Are you alright? SH

  Stranger: He cut my cheek. IA

  You: I will come tend to you when I am done. SH

  Stranger: Can you bring me cigarettes too? IA

  You: Yes of course. SH

  Stranger: Thank you. Be careful, please. IA

  You: Leave your door locked, only open it for me. SH

  Stranger: I'm not an idiot. IA

  You: Some time later, Sherlock came down her hall, knocking on her door impatiently. Adrenaline was still coursing through his system from his exchange with Moran but he was done, the man would not harm Irene any more. He had known quite a bit more about him that Irene had expected, he had known far more than he ever hoped anyone would find out and that had proven incredibly useful.

  You: He knocked on her door, holding her brand of cigarettes along with a bouquet of wild flowers. He felt a bit like a fool with the flowers, but he thought she might like them, that they might let her know that their exchange last week hadn't ruined anything.

  Stranger: As she heard the hard, fast knocks on her door, Irene sighed as she stood from sitting on the floor at the end of her bed, tried tears on her cheeks as she held a wet cloth to her cheekbone. She should have asked him to bring her some ice or frozen peas. Or whiskey. She was already a little tipsy but more alcohol wouldn't hurt. Looking through the peephole, she smiled a fraction at the sight of the flowers before she opened the door, glad to see he wasn't hurt. "Cigs and wild flowers. You're not a bad date so far," she managed to tease him gently, stepping back to let him in.

  You: He hummed and laid the flowers on the table, "Saw them on my way over, thought they would distract you," he said, shrugging as though he always brought everyone flowers. He noticed the half empty bottle of whiskey on the table and raised his brows. "You have been drinking."

  Stranger: Irene glanced back to the bottle and nodded her head. "Yes. We were at a party," she replied simply, removing the cloth from her face and setting it down on the table before she picked up the wild flowers. She took the white roses from Norton out of a vase and replaced them with the wild flowers with a small smile, gently arranging them neatly on her windowsill. Her fingers moved delicately over the lilacs before she turned back to Sherlock. "Thank you," she said softly and quietly, smiling too much and hissing through her teeth as her cheek throbbed in result.

  You: He came forward and held her face gently in his hands, examining it, "Where is your first aid kit?" he asked in a whisper that was just loud enough to carry to her ears.

  Stranger: Lips parting a little as he came closer to her and held her face, Irene let out a soft breath and swallowed. Christ. He had never been this close to her before. "Under the sink in the bathroom," she breathed back quietly to him, unable to take her eyes off of him. How had be not figured it out yet that the 'bloke' she wanted was him? He was supposed to smart.

  You: He went to the sink and collected the kit, taking a moment to breathe as he tried to focus on just cleaning up the wound and getting back to what he was doing here. He couldn't think right. He went back to her, carrying the kit and opening it on the table. He made a note to keep calm as he took out some antiseptic and wet some gauze before returning to her.

  Stranger: As he left her, Irene let out a shaky breath and ran her hand through her hair before she quickly walked to her dresser to take a swig of the whiskey to calm her beating heart. Damn him. Why did he have to be so protective over her? As he returned, she sat down on the edge of her bed and let him come to her to tend to her swollen cheek. "Why do guys always manage to hit a girl right on the cheek so it feels like your eye is going to explode?" She murmured.

  You: He frowned, "I've never attempted to hit a woman before," he said, hating how she said guys like Moran wasn't the first to have hurt her. "I wouldn't know," he used the gauze to dab at her cheek, cleaning up the bits of blood around the wound before murmuring, "Now stay still," and cleaning the wound itself.

  Stranger: "Good. Don't do it," Irene whispered back to him, closing her eyes as he started to work on cleaning her face up. She gasped a little in pain when she felt him dab directly on the wound and her hand held onto his thigh, her eyes squeezing shut. After a moment or two, she got used to the pain and her eyes flickered open as she watched him, her hand just resting on his leg now rather than gripping it.

  You: He didn't register the pressure of her hand on his leg, so focused on her wound and hurting her as little as possible. He wanted her to not have any scarring and so he was careful to clean it properly, trying to keep it from being infected. He blindly grabbed the plaster and opened it up, carefully covering the wound and letting his thumb smooth down the end of the bandage.

  Stranger: As she felt his thumb press the plaster down, Irene watched him with her eyes half open and her lips parted. He was being so gentle with her, like she was as delicate as the flowers he had brought her. She swallowed, not used to being treated in such a way and finding it unnerving that she liked it so much. "Thank you," she breathed quietly, the words for his ears only as she practically stared at him.

  You: He didn't say anything, merely nodding and looking from the plaster to her eyes to her lips and back. He had to stop this, this moment, he had to find something else to do with his lips than to claim hers. He blinked at her for a moment before reaching over for the pack of cigarettes and taking one out, digging for the lighter in his pocket and lighting it with a sigh. He took a drag that felt like it calmed the urge to lean in and kiss her lips.

  Stranger: Blinking as he broke the moment rather quickly between them, Irene coughed a little and shifted where she sat, watching him light the cigarette. Why would he do that? He had pretty much admitted he liked her chasing him and yet whenever she attempted to do so, he would give her the cold shoulder. No, this wasn't good enough. Taking a cigarette from the packet, she placed it between her lips before placing her fingers under his chin and turning his head to face her whilst his cigarette dangled from his lips. Slowly, she leaned in so the tip of her cig was pressed against his, her eyes staring back at him once more. She sucked, lighting it from his.

  You: The moment was odd, this cigarette led kiss of theirs was strangely intimate and the way her cheeks hollowed and her lips rounded made him want the cigarettes long gone from their mouths. And then she was gone, the cigarette lit and her fingers under his chin would be gone in just a moment. He closed his eyes, savoring what he could of it before he took the cigarette from his mouth, "I could have leant you the lighter," he said after a long moment.

  Stranger: Irene smiled, removing the cigarette from her lips and her fingers from his chin before she shrugged. "That would have been a waste of gas," she replied simply, letting the moment pass again, this time to tease him, to make him want more, to make him chase her. Standing up, she picked up the whiskey bottle and took another swig, walking to the window and opening up so they didn't make her room smell completely of smoke. She perched herself on the windowsill, taking it in turns to smoke and drink.

  You: He watched her for what felt like a long time, letting the silence between them settle in to being comfortable, he reached over and took the bottle, taking several swigs of the liquor before handing it back, "Catching up," he muttered, licking his lips and looking at her longer than he should have. He sat opposite her and looked out the window, staring at the buildings around them before finally muttering, "He's going to stop. If he ever even comes near you again, you are to let me know and I will release the information I have on him."

  Stranger: The student nodded her head, figuring that out anyway considering he didn't have a mark on him. Lucky bastard. "Thank you," she replied gently, gazing across at him as he looked out of the window. He was so stunning to her. He was tall, a little gangly, incredibly rude and a terrible know-it-all with cheekbones that could cut glass and a wit as dry as the Sahara. She was smitten. She curled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them, merely looking at him.

  You: He could feel her gaze and sighed, reaching out for the bottle of whiskey and taking a long drag from it, "Why did you let it go on so long?" he asked softly, finally turning his gaze to her and feeling the hurt and fear he had been feeling for her.

  Stranger: Irene didn't look away from him, merely shrugging her shoulder absently as she watched his lips curl rather enticingly around the neck of the bottle. "I was rather powerless to stop it." She said back simply. "I didn't know you had information on him and it wasn't as if I could stop him myself. He could break me, if he wanted to," she said honestly, seeing no reason to lie to him now.

  You: He would have, Sherlock knew that. He felt bile rise up in his throat and he swallowed down another swig of the alcohol, feeling his head start to swim. "You could have come to me, at the very least I could have tried to help, I could have acted last week, saved your face."

  Stranger: She smiled a little at him. "My face is fine. I'm just glad he didn't hit my nose. I look a little more devil-may-care this way," she smirked, breathing a soft chuckle and resting her head back on the wall, closing her eyes and finally letting him fall out of view, despite how much she enjoyed looking at him.

  You: He took this moment, her moment of vulnerability to really take her in, to observe and see properly every bit of her. He saw the fading bite marks, just below her shirt and felt a rush of jealousy. He let his eyes drift back up to her lips, so perfectly parted and pleasantly pink. He licked his lips and turned towards the bottle, nearly finishing it before putting it on her nightstand. He sighed and just watched her, waiting for her to open her eyes, to catch him. To laugh at him and send him away.

  Stranger: Irene could feel his stare burning into her and she allowed it for a little while, basking in the fact that he was just looking at her. She slowly licked her lips, hearing him place the bottle down and she could tell from the noise it made that it was almost empty. "You owe me more whiskey," she murmured, her voice low and holding a slight purr beneath it as she slowly tilted her head back down and lifted her eye lids.

  You: He looked at her and hummed back, "I'll have to remember that for the next time I come by," he said, licking his lips just as she opened her eyes. The alcohol was helping, drowning the sensation that he wasn't loved. He swallowed and replaced her, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. "Though to be far, I did just save you from your abuser, that ought to count for at least half a bottle."

  Stranger: She smiled, ignoring the pain of her cheek as she took this opportunity to get closer to him. She dangled one leg out of the window and the other into her room, gently edging closer to him until her face was a mere few inches from his. "I think it counts for a little more than that too," she whispered back to him, letting her eyes wonder down his face and his neck. God, she would love to sink her teeth into that untarnished bit of flesh.

  You: He opened his eyes and felt how close she was now, he forced himself to stay back against the wall and not lean in to her, "What does it count for exactly?" he asked, moving slowly and taking a long drag from his cigarette before putting it out and tossing it out the window, the smoke leaving his lips with his breath.

  Stranger: Irene did the same, throwing her half smoke cigarette out of the window. "Anything you like," she whispered, biting down on her bottom lip and holding his gaze. How many more clues did she have to give him? Was he really so insecure that he genuinely couldn't guess that it was him that she wanted?

  You: He looked her over and knew instantly that if he wanted, she would have intercourse with him now. He knew that all he had to do was lean in and she would kiss him and they would fall back together and make love and he would leave his marks next to the marks all the others left on her body. "I don't want to be one of your adoring fans, Irene."

  Stranger: As his words reached her ears, Irene's lips parted and her brows pulled in as she felt her whole chest constrict in pain. He didn't know that she wanted him and only him so it shouldn't really have hurt her that he thought that was all she wanted but it did anyway. She sighed heavily and dropped her head, closing her eyes. "You're so fucking stupid," she muttered, sitting back and resting on the wall once more, looking out of the window and not at him anymore.

  You: His eyes flashed with anger at her reaction, "I'm stupid? For wanting to protect you? For saving you? For not wanting to be one of the many people you /fuck/ to get flowers and love letters and favours? I don't /want/ to bring you flowers that'll go next to all the others you receive," he spat, feeling cruel for saying these things but also feeling well within his rights.

  Stranger: Irene's eyes darted back to Sherlock's, a similar fire and anger reflected in them just as she could see in his. "No! You're stupid because you don't see that isn't what I want from you. You see only what you want to see. Norton's stupid roses are on the floor, replaced by yours. I would replace all of them with yours. I would replace all of them with you! So get off your fucking high horse and stop thinking you're just another notch on the bed post. Prick," she muttered back to him, turning her gaze back out of the window.

  You: He was too angry to process what she was saying properly and wanted to keep yelling, despite the fact that she had just shocked him more than he could say, "You expect me to believe you think I'm so special? All of your lovers think their special, Norton thinks he's special, that he's your favourite lover and yet his flowers are on the floor the second he's out of sight."

  Stranger: She sighed heavily as he continued to yell and try and argue with her, gently rubbing her temples before running her hands through her hair tiredly, curling her legs up to her chest. She closed her eyes, not wanting to hear him insult her anymore. It didn't matter when other people did it, but it did when he spoke to her like that. "No, I don't expect you to believe me, but I'm telling the truth," she said quietly once he had stopped talking. "I want you. You're the so /wonderful/ bloke."

  You: Her soft voice was what made him pause, his hands shaking slightly as he went about his processing. He wanted to keep shouting but all the anger, all the words died in his throat, "Oh for fuck's sake," he said, and before, he could stop himself he had leaned forward, carefully stretching over her curled up knees and kissed her lips.

  Stranger: A small noise of surprise left her throat as he kissed her again, Irene's eyes closing as she kissed him back easily, letting her legs fall down so he could get closer to her. Her hands curled into fists by her sides as she tried to control herself, so she didn't just grab him and drag him to her bed. After a moment, she broke the kiss gently and her breath hitched, her eyes opening to show her pupils blown wide. "Why did you do that?"

  You: He swallowed and shook his head, "Because I'm an idiot," he murmured, leaning down to kiss her again, hovering just above her mouth, "If you are lying, Irene," he warned, his voice tender and shockingly vulnerable, "If you are lying, stop me now."

  Stranger: Irene let a quite whimper escape her as he came so close to her, his lips almost but not yet brushing against hers.. God, she didn't think she had wanted anything more in her entire life than for him to kiss her right now. "It's you... It's always been you," she whispered back, her voice conveying an equal amount of vulnerability.

  You: He kissed her then, letting his lips get well acquainted with hers, letting his lips memorize the taste and touch and feel of kissing her. It was so different than anything he had expected, it was so perfect.

  Stranger: She whimpered helplessly, lifting her arms to wrap them around him happily, smiling against his lips unable to help herself. This was all she had ever wanted, for so long, and now she had it. Had him. He was hers and hers to keep and god, she wasn't ever going to let him go. "How could you not see it?" She mumbled against his lips.

  You: He sighed, not wanting to relieve the moment he had realized she was done chasing him, that she had given up and that he was meaningless to her. He had studied her then, that was how he had known her favourite flower. And he had tried to bring them to her. And that's when he had heard her moaning someone's name through the door. He hadn't bothered allowing himself to entertain the notion much since then. "You hid it quite well."

  Stranger: Irene pulled back gently, resting her forehead on his and closing her eyes, letting her nose gently brush against his. "I chased you for so long.. You gave me nothing. What was I supposed to do?" She whispered, cupping his cheeks and pecking his lips once more in a most tender way to let him know that she wasn't lying to him anymore. "I thought you didn't give a shit about me."

  You: He just kept kissing her, pulling her against him and holding her close to him. He didn't want to tell her that he didn't, because if he told her now, she would know everything and he would lose to her. He would never win again should he admit now that he loved her more than he ever thought he was capable.

  Stranger: Moaning a little as he tugged her closer, so much so she ended up half perched on his lap, Irene wrapped both her legs and arms around him, happily kissing him back with all she had, pouring all her emotions into it by her lips. They didn't need to say anymore. She didn't want to know that she had hurt him with all her lovers and she knew that he didn't want hear he had hurt her with his indifference to her. That didn't matter anymore.

  You: They were kissing the wounds better, letting them heal and letting them come together now. She was cleaning out all the wounds with her kisses, letting him know that perhaps he was loved in the same way that he loved. He fell back on to the bed with her, wanting to kiss her for hours, to truly understand every millimeter of her mouth.

  Stranger: Irene lay her body atop of Sherlock's, legs tangling together as they kissed for what seemed like eternity. It wasn't the kind of kisses she shared with her lovers, which always lead to sex. No, they were kissing just for the sake of kissing. She had almost forgotten how nice it was just to /kiss/. Finally, she pulled back for air, panting quietly as she looked down at him, a silly smile on her lips as the tips of her fingers grazed over his bottom lip which was now slightly swollen.

  You: "Did I do something wrong?" he asked, wondering why she looked so amused, his eyes focused on hers, watching the way they watched his lips. He swallowed and felt his sore lips and wanted nothing more than for her mouth to come back to his to soothe them.

  Stranger: She shook her head. "No. I just... like kissing you, is all," she relied softly, pressing her lips back to his, this time being even more gentle than the last. Her lips merely grazed his, teasing him a little before she nipped at his bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth. Finally, she kissed him again properly, hands cupping his cheeks.

  You: He hummed into her mouth and held her close to his chest, wanting to absorb her into him, wanting to feel her deep within his body, "Irene," he whispered, his hands on her hips, feeling where the bruise had been on her waist.

  Stranger: "Yes?" Irene whispered back, feeling him press a little on the still slightly tender flesh of her waist. She didn't mind though. It was like his fingers were soothing the bad mark, making it all go away, just like he had made Moran go away too.

  You: "You'll stop seeing the others, won't you?" he surprised himself with the sheer amount of fear in his voice as the words let his lips, "My flowers will be the only ones?" he asked, clearing his throat and hoping his voice would steady with the process. ((Hey, it's getting super late here and i need to be up super early, anyway we can continue via email?))

  Stranger: [Sure! What's your email?]

  You: ((I'm))

  Stranger: [Great! I'll email the log and my reply :)]

  You: ((Thanks so much! Have a great night! Also do you mind if I post this on tumblr?))

  Stranger: [You too! No, go ahead :D]

  You: ((Great! Goodnight!))

  You have disconnected. ((Post isn't empty you dumb thing))

[somewine-andsay-whatsgoingon]

Email RP wanted

I have been itching to find someone to rp a Royal AU Adlock with me. I have a starter written up, which I will post below the cut and am looking for a long term-slow build Adlock email roleplay!

If you're interested please message me as I can't wait to get started!

Irene shuddered as she walked into the Palace's Ballroom. It was not somewhere she had ever been before, and for that she was at least slightly grateful. Flocks of noblewomen mulled around, all edging slightly closer to the foot of the grand staircase as each minute drew on. Towards the edges of the room, eligible noblemen stood too, having been invited to survey the stock that they'd be selecting future wives from. They, however, were not the focus of the nights events. The youngest Holmes heir was the reason this ball had been held, his parents were determined to find the reluctant Prince a bride, in the hopes that he would step up to his duties. The oldest Holmes brother had been exiled some time ago, the middle one had other interests, and so the mantle fell to the youngest, the last hope for the continuation of the line.

Irene herself would not be here if she had not been forced by her mother. The same mother who had selected the most ghastly gown for her. It was so disgustingly similar in it's appearance to the others around the room that she had been forced to have another made in advance, one that made her stand out. That was not the reason she wore it though. The dark silk clung to her like a second skin, and wearing that dress gave her power, at least over the men in the room. The previous dress had been stuffed into one of the ornate vases dotted about the palace. No doubt someone would find it eventually. Irene sipped her wine to hide her amusement as the trumpets signalled the supposed entrance of the Prince, only for no such figure to appear. She looked around, catching the eye of several noblemen she had already tempted to her bed and smirking. Tonight may just provide some entertainment after all.

[the-woman-who-died]

~{Like/reblog for a starter. Irene is being very fidgety today and just wants to talk to everyone. Any genre is open, even something a little dark if you want}~

[221bottlesofbeeronthewall]

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!

You both like adlock, and shirene.

You: Tell me darling, do you ever think of me? IA

Stranger: Why do you ask? SH

You: Because I'm curious. When you're hot and needy and so hard you can't think straight is that when I cross your mind? Or is it in the more tender moments you like to pretend you don't have? IA

Stranger: I really don't know how to answer that question. SH

You: Because it's both or because you're too embarrassed to say? IA

Stranger: Because I don't experience those situations. SH

You: Liar. IA

Stranger: What makes you think I'm lying? You underestimate me. SH

You: You like to pretend you're not human, that you're the machine that everyone seems to assume you are. I know better. You're flesh and bone just like every other being and flesh and bone can be broken. IA

Stranger: And you think you can break me, do you? SH

You: Absolutely. IA

Stranger: Tell me, Miss. Adler, how would you break me? SH

You: Come over and I'll show you. IA

Stranger: I'm afraid I don't do what I'm told. SH

You: Then I hope you don't mind being beaten into submission. IA

Stranger: I'm not an easy man to beat. SH

You: I'm not your average mistress, Sherlock. IA

Stranger: Then I suppose we both have a challenge. SH

You: And I know how much you like being challenged. IA

Stranger: Indeed I do. SH

You: So come over and play. IA

Stranger: I'm already here. SH

You: "Atta boy," Irene hummed, opening the door, already dressed in nothing but lingerie.

Stranger: Sherlock sighed as he stepped over the threshold, clad in usual coat with his hands in his pockets. Already mentally cataloging everything he saw, eyes darting from surface to surface, he shifted his gaze to her, over the curves of her body. "You are tenacious, Miss. Adler."

You: "Got you here, didn't it?" she hummed, shutting the door behind him. She didn't touch him, she didn't try anything, in fact she just walked away, up the stairs. He would follow, if out of nothing other than sheer curiosity.

Stranger: Rolling his eyes, Sherlock watched as she left, descending the stairs with grace and elegance and sexual prowess. Of course he knew that she knew he'd follow. Not too far behind, he did.

You: She led him past the various rooms she would take her clients to and instead into a simple room, her own bedroom. Reserved for her use only. Personal pleasure. She wanted to throw him off his game. "I could beat you, Mr. Holmes," she said, moving to sit on the bed, looking up at him with a dangerous glint in her eye, "Hurt you until you're sore and bleeding on my floor and begging for mercy. But that's not what you want," she said.

Stranger: He quirked an eyebrow as he clocked her game, a small half smile creeping onto his lips as he stepped into her bedroom. Of course she was playing games. "I spend a vast majority of my time sore and bleeding. My job demands it. I'm sure I can endure what ever you have to offer," he said, voice low as he watched her. He stood in front, unmoving, hands behind his back, eyes fixed on her face.

You: She chuckled, looking away from him, "No, you misunderstand me," she licked her lips, "You see, I'm quite certain you can handle the pain I usually dole out, you may even find it exciting, titillating. But that's not what you /want/." She stood, moving to her night stand and pulling out two silk ties. "You could be beaten by anyone, hurt by anything. You want to be taken apart, not hurt. You want me to figure you out, Mr. Holmes."

Stranger: As she spoke, moved to her dresser, Sherlock turned to remain facing her, fingers drumming against his hands. "Actually, there are none who technically succeed in /beating/ me," he corrected, but this was off the point. "You seem to know exactly what you're doing." The truth was, this was not his area of expertise. Not by a long shot. But he couldn't let her beneath the steel composure, not yet.

You: "I am a professional, Mr. Holmes," she hummed, laying the ties on the bed as she turned and moved towards him slowly, her hips swaying with each step, "And you're only human." She needed to surprise him, he made her up her game, he reminded her why she did this in the first place.

Stranger: He eyed the ties, feeling wary, but was careful not to betray this in his face. The idea of being held down, out of control... he was not accustomed to it. Sherlock watched as she moved closer, careful not to step away. It was important to stand his ground. "I'm aware of my humanity, Miss. Adler. What you don't seem to understand is that it is an active choice to not connect with it."

You: "No," she shook her head, "It's not a choice, you don't think you can. You think it will only make you weak. You're always moving forward, away, I'm going to hold you down, Mr. Holmes, I'm going to remind you how weak you really are. I'm going to give you what I know you will like."

Stranger: Her words rang in his ears and he felt suffocated, because perhaps it was the truth, but this was something he was so used to blocking out. He stared at her over his long nose, eyes narrowed and pulse slightly elevated. "What a game this has turned out to be..." he almost whispered, voice even.

You: "It's far from over, Mr. Holmes," she said softly, reaching up and touching him softly. Something about his demeanor made her wonder if she was the first to ever touch him so kindly.

Stranger: The touch was gentle, which he'd been expecting - she wouldn't begin with brute force, not with him. His eyes watched her hand, his breath caught in his throat just a little, but he knew she must have noticed it.

You: "Sherlock," she said softly, licking her lips, she wanted to kiss him, to throw him down on the bed and have him right now, but she couldn't do that. That wasn't why he had come. "Lie down."

Stranger: The first thing to throw him off was that she'd addressed him by his first name. She never did that, so apparently she was making this /very/ personal. If he did this, he was surrendering himself to her entirely, but if he wasn't going to do that then why had he come? Very slowly, he slipped his coat from his arms, draping over the chair nearby before situating himself on the bed, still clad in shirt, trousers, socks and shoes. Though he expected she'd soon have him solve that.

You: She took her time looking him over, "You're scared, aren't you?" she asked, kneeling before him on the bed as she slowly began to take off his shoes, "You can walk into a room full of killers and not feel a thing but I frighten you."

Stranger: Sherlock eyed her, turning her words over in his mind, trying to place the emotion she spoke of... fear, again, something he was unaccustomed to. "You and a trained assassin both pose different kinds of threats."

You: "And what threat do I pose to you?" she asked, pulling off his socks and looking up at him almost tenderly.

Stranger: "I think you know exactly what threat you pose, and you love it, you absolutely relish your power, which is why you've got me here now." His raised an eyebrow, icy eyes cold, but swimming with anticipation.

You: She trailed her fingers up his thighs, slowly moving and positioning herself above his mouth as she spoke slowly, "Do you know why I do what I do? Because yes, it's about power, but it's about something bigger than that."

Stranger: A small shiver reverberated through his body as her finger tips moved up, fixing his gaze with hers as she loomed above. "Do enlighten me," he said, hands rigid on the bed.

You: "I tell you all the time, I know what people like. I know how to take someone apart. There's something special about that, something intoxicating. Seeing someone so broken beneath your hand. I want to take you apart, Sherlock Holmes. I'm going to poke at the things that scare, embarrass you until that's all you feel. That's what I do, Mr. Holmes. That's why I do this," she leaned down as she spoke, just grazing his mouth and letting her words flow directly into him as her hands moved to his shirt.

Stranger: She was intoxicating, and she encompassed her sex and embraced it with every fiber of her being - and that was something he had to respect her for. He listened to her, the way she spoke like chocolate, oozing into him, filling him up, leaving him dizzy... She seemed to know how to shut off his mind, he couldn't over analyse, he couldn't think. Yes, it was fair to say, she scared him. When her lips ghosted against his, he exhaled deeply, breath shaky.

You: She breathed in his breath, lazily taking him in as she stripped him of his shirt, "I want you to stop thinking, Mr. Holmes, instead I want you to feel everything I do to you with the focus you usually pay to your crime scenes, is that understood?" She pulled his shirt off and took one arm, tying it to the headboard before she truly had a chance to marvel at him. ((Brb I need to run a quick errand, just in case my email is __))

Stranger: ((Yes, I'd rather continue via email anyway. I'll email you my response.))

Stranger: ((Let me know if you got my email.))

You: ((Hey! Any chance you're still here!))

You: ((Sorry, I saw the email and I assumed you had left))

You have disconnected.