Circuslock, is that even a thing? Well, I think it should be!! Imagine John joining a circus where Sherlock works. John being a juggler or a trapeze artist and Sherlock being a tightrope walker. Maybe both, Sherlock and John, are trapeze artists!!!!
(Lately, I can’t think of anything else and it’s killing me)
My humblest apologies for my long absence. I've been RP'ing as usual, but been far too busy/lazy (depending on the day) to upload. But I have a ton of stuff for y'all so don't worry! First up: is Circuslock a thing? Probably, but I haven't seen any, so I made one! Much thanks to my fabulous RP partner, superwholockian30 here on the ol' Tumblr, for a heartbreaking RP that I can't wait to continue!
You: Sherlock sat in his cage, his fingers steepled in front of his mouth as he watched the insipid crowd. No one ever came near his cage anymore. When he’d first been “premiered” at the circus as the Magnificent Mind Reader, everyone had clamored to him, but they’d quickly been put off by his deductions of their personal secrets and overall disagreeable nature. Now, no one dared approach him, and he couldn’t say he was complaining. If they’d given him any kind of access to a weapon, he’d have probably offed himself long ago. His mind was slowly melting away in this place, and escape had proven time and again to be futile. The only thing he could do to keep his mind at least somewhat sharp was to continue to deduce what he could from the distant throngs of people. The woman with the red dress was planning on dumping her boyfriend sometime in the next 12 hours in favor of his father, the 15-year-old boy had recently come to terms with his homosexuality and was agonizing over how to tell his parents, and the slightly-less-than-middle-aged blond ex-army doctor was considering approaching his cage for reasons that were not entirely clear.
Stranger: John caught sight of the cage and frowned. He was considering walking over there, it was so inhuman, having him locked in the cage like that. He noticed no one else went near the cage. Was there something about the man he didn't know. He made up his mind and slowly walked up to the cage. He shoved his hands into his pockets and smiled at the man. "Hello."
You: Sherlock didn't move, staying in the corner of his cage. He had no idea what this man's intentions were, no matter how many times he scanned him. It occurred to him after a moment that the man was expecting an answer of some sort. "Hello." He said back, a bit put off by the man's smile. No one ever smiled at him, unless they were laughing at him. Maybe that's what he was doing.
Stranger: "Are you okay?" He noted that he seemed very uncomfortable. "It can't be very fun inside the cage." He noticed the other people looking at him but he didn't care. This man was a human being and he needed some healthy attention like everyone else.He wondered if maybe he could break the man out and save him form this life. He was against all of this. His eyes looked shifted to look over at the lock on the cage. Simple enough to pick. "My name's John."
You: Sherlock shrugged. "It isn't. Obviously. I'm doing as well as can be expected." He stared at John for a moment, realizing that he actually wanted to know his name. No one ever did. "I'm Sherlock." He finally answered. He noticed John look at the lock, and rolled his eyes. "Yes, it is a very simple lock, but you won't get five steps away without getting caught and thrown back in. Trust me, I've tried." Sherlock glared at the man, frustrated that he couldn't tell what his motivations were. "Why do you care, anyway?"
Stranger: John frowned. " I don't know what I did to make you not like me, but I'm sorry." He brought his hands out of his pockets and ran a hand through his hair. "I care because it's inhuman to have you locked in a cage like this. And I bet I could do something.." He looked over at one of the Carnie's. "May I speak with the person that runs the show, please?"
You: Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "I don't know what /I/ did to make you think I don't like you. You seem to have nothing but good intentions. I'm simply…not used to it, I suppose." He opened his mouth to stop John when he spoke to one of the Carnie's, but it was too late-Moran was already off to get the ringleader. "John," He said urgently. "You're making a massive mistake, why on earth would you-?" "Hello, sir. What seems to be the trouble?" Sherlock clamped his mouth shut as Ringmaster Magnussen approached John. He feigned sadness when he saw what was happening, but Sherlock could see the glee behind his eyes. "Oh dear, has our Mind Reader been causing you trouble? We do so try to keep his mouth shut, but he simply won't listen. It's a shame we need it for our act, otherwise we'd sew it shut, I assure you."
Stranger: John felt anger coarse through him, but he took a calming breath. "No, he's hasn't done any harm I assure you, sir." He crossed his arms. "Forgive me for being so bold, but he's human, you know that right? Does he even get to come out of the cage." He looked sadly back at Sherlock and then turned to the ringmaster.
You: Sherlock kept his head down, knowing he was already in for a hell of a beating when John left. He didn't want to make it even worse. Magnussen simply stared for a moment before answering. "He doesn't live in the cage. He has a hammock in the tent, just like everyone else." Sherlock tried not to scoff. He was lucky to get to sleep on the tent floor-usually he slept on the dirt. "You must understand, we are keeping him safe here. Out there, in the real world, no one would accept him. He'd most likely be dead within a week, killed by someone he'd wronged with his words. It's not an agreeable existence, I'll admit, but when you're cursed the way he is, it's the best you can do. Surely you understand."
Stranger: John nodded uncrossing his arms. "Yes, I understand. But I would accept him, and he isn't cursed. He's brilliant and gifted, and more than twice than man you are." He flashed Sherlock an apologetic smile, and nodded at the carnie before abruptly turning on his heels and walking away. He'd certainly be back. He knew the Ringmaster was lying.
You: Sherlock looked up when John spoke, a warm feeling spreading through his chest. He'd always thought that Magnussen was right, that this was the best he could do, considering. But John said he would accept him, and he couldn't find any evidence that the man was lying. Before he could full acknowledge what had just happened, John was gone. His eyes never left the blond until he was completely out of sight. "Aww, how quaint." Sherlock jumped-he'd nearly forgotten that Magnussen was there. He turned back, shaking at the cold look in the Ringmaster's eyes. "You actually believed him. Sherlock, Sherlock…" He shook his head. "I'm afraid I must remind you to whom you belong." He casually got out his whip. Sherlock's stomach dropped-he always hated being beaten, and he hadn't even fully healed yet from the last one.
Stranger: John suddenly heard the ringmaster had pulled a whip, it didn't take him long to figure out why. He was at the front when the news reached him, he quickly turned and broke into a run, speeding back towards Sherlock and the ring master. He just saw the ringmaster lift the whip, he slid in front of Sherlock and felt the whip connect with his back. He smiled at Sherlock, the pain only registering in his eyes.
You: Sherlock had shut his eyes tight in preparation for the kiss of the whip, and was puzzled when he heard the noise, but didn't feel any pain. Had Magnussen finally damaged his nerves to the point where he didn't feel it anymore? That was almost a relief. He cracked open his eyes, and felt his stomach drop in terror when he saw John standing in front of him, smiling a ridiculous smile that didn't fool Sherlock for a second. He could see the tears of pain forming in John's eyes. "John," He breathed, wanting to say more before Magnussen cut in, chuckling. "Well, well, aren't we the hero. I really am sorry for your pain, John, but as you probably guessed I wasn't aiming for you. This really is a necessary part of his daily routine, nothing serious. You really should go. I'll even give you some of your money back, if you wish." Sherlock turned to the blond, his voice low. "John, just go. It's fine, go." He was terrified of what Magnussen would do to the kind man.
Stranger: "No. I'm the one that acted out of place, sir. Leave him be." He turned to face him with determination on his face. "I'll take it for him. He doesn't need to suffer for me speaking in a way I shouldn't"
You: Magnussen considered for a moment, looking around. Most of the other customers had either left or were amused by what was happening. He glanced at Sherlock, who looked more distressed than he'd ever seen him. A smile creeped across his face. This would be plenty punishment for the freak. "Well, you know what they say. The customer is always right." Sherlock's head shot up, his eyes wide with panic. "No!" He shouted. "Be quiet, Sherlock, or I'll have to extend your-or should I say, John's-punishment." Sherlock's mouth immediately snapped shut, and Magnussen's smile widened. "That's better. Right then." He turned back to John. "Insubordination is 15 lashes. Only 14 more to go. Ready?" Before John could answer, he whipped him once again across his back, nearly laughing outright at Sherlock's cries.
Stranger: John clinched his fist but otherwise said nothing. He gave Sherlock a reassuring smile. It was a few more lashes before he cried out. He knees wobbled but he stayed on his feet, determined to stay strong, if not for himself, than for Sherlock.
You: Sherlock had to put a hand over his mouth to keep from yelling at the Ringmaster to stop, tears streaming down his face as he watched John get hurt. His fault, this was all his fault. Magnussen merely kept his grin, hitting John harder and harder each time. "My, my, John. You're stronger than you look. It's as if you're used to this." Sherlock glared-both of them knew that John was in the army once, although he never quite knew how the Ringmaster knew the same things Sherlock did. Magnussen readied himself for the final lash, hitting John's shoulder right where he knew he'd find a puckered scar. "There. All done." He sang, his face remaining somewhat stoic. He turned to face Sherlock. "I certainly hope you've learned your lesson about making friends, young man." Sherlock nodded quickly, overwhelmed with more emotions than he'd felt in years and hating it.
Stranger: John cried out in pain and grabbed his shoulder dropping to the ground. He was able to contain most of the pain until he hit the scar. He looked up and Sherlock and muttered and apology, but he was glad he saved the young man from being injured. He tried to stand up but feel again. "Damn.."
You: Magnussen smiled and walked away, nodding to the small, applauding crowd as he did so. It didn't matter what happened now-Sherlock would never forgive himself for causing John pain, and he'd send him away. There was nothing to worry about. He had more important things to do, anyway.
"John!" Sherlock yelled, scrambling to the edge of his cage to try and help John up through the bars. He still couldn't stop crying, no matter how much he willed himself to stop. "John, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He whispered, not trusting his voice, as he tried to hoist John up.
Stranger: "it's..... okay" He breathed out, trying to steady himself using the cage bars. "It was my fault..." He tried to move but stumbled and fell, deciding just to give up. "I'm sorry Sherlock.. I nearly...Got you.. whipped." He cried out in pain again as his scar throbbed.
You: Sherlock couldn't believe what John was saying. it was simultaneously the most wonderful and idiotic thing he'd ever heard. "It's not okay. Your gunshot wound, the whole reason you got sent home from a war zone, was reopened and it was /my/ fault because I didn't just ignore you and let you live your life in peace. I nearly got me whipped, not you. /I/ actually got /you/ whipped, as I'm sure you recall."
Stranger: John rolled his eyes. "As you RECALL, I'm the one who spoke to the ringmaster like that. This in't your fault Sherlock, don't you dare think that." He applied pressure to the now open wound, wincing.
You: Sherlock curled up, hiding his face in his knees. "I got you involved." He muttered, his breath stuttering as tears continued to fall. "You were the first person who ever treated me like a human being, and the first thing I did was get you whipped. If I had just not spoken up in the first place, you wouldn't have felt obligated to come back and save me. How can this possibly not be my fault?"
Stranger: "You've done nothing wrong Sherlock... Stop beating yourself up." He slowly he climbed up and pressed his face against the bar. 'I would go through it a hundred times over to save you."
