The Science of Addiction

troublesome-addict replied to your post: Where am I? Who are you people?

Sherlock looks at the child in confusion. “Who are you?”

“Who’re you?” Mycroft replies, crossing his arms.

“Sherlock Holmes. You look a bit like my older brother, actually.” Sherlock crouches down a bit, tilting his head sideways. “My God… is that you, Mycroft?”

“Are you a cousin I never met before? Because I’ve never heard of a Sherlock,” Mycroft crosses his arms, mirroring Sherlock.

Sherlock regards him for a moment. “You’re about five years old, yes? Well then of course you haven’t heard of me. I’m your younger brother, but we’re more than five years apart. I wasn’t born yet when you were five. Do you know how this happened?”

“… No?” Myc answers, confused. “You’re my brother? But I don’t have a brother… It’s only Mummy, daddy and me!” Mycroft pouts, crossing his arms. “I’m scared. And I just want to go home!”

#//smooth Sherlock #//he's a child for God's sake #//Sherlock doesn't know how to children #internofthegovernment #mycroft #rp

Sherlock pauses. "Something happened to make you a child again, but I assure you, I am your brother. And mummy's not here anymore, though I suppose you've forgotten that too."

troublesome-addict replied to your post: Where am I? Who are you people?

Sherlock looks at the child in confusion. “Who are you?”

“Who’re you?” Mycroft replies, crossing his arms.

“Sherlock Holmes. You look a bit like my older brother, actually.” Sherlock crouches down a bit, tilting his head sideways. “My God… is that you, Mycroft?”

“Are you a cousin I never met before? Because I’ve never heard of a Sherlock,” Mycroft crosses his arms, mirroring Sherlock.

#//and now he's fascinated #//BECAUSE SCIENCE #internofthegovernment #mycroft #rp

Sherlock regards him for a moment. "You're about five years old, yes? Well then of course you haven't heard of me. I'm your younger brother, but we're more than five years apart. I wasn't born yet when you were five. Do you know how this happened?"

troublesome-addict replied to your post: Where am I? Who are you people?

Sherlock looks at the child in confusion. “Who are you?”

“Who’re you?” Mycroft replies, crossing his arms.

#internofthegovernment #//confused Sherlock is confused

"Sherlock Holmes. You look a bit like my older brother, actually." Sherlock crouches down a bit, tilting his head sideways. "My God... is that you, Mycroft?"

+stilltheonlyone started following you

stilltheonlyone-deactivated2013

stilltheonlyone:

Sherlock nodded, not about to lie. “I’m essentially homeless at the moment. It’s not that bad though.”

“Not that bad?” John repeated, running a hand through his hair. “How have you managed this past month? Have you eaten anything?”

#stilltheonlyone #john #rp

Sherlock shrugged. "I've eaten enough. And there are a few places that I've found where no one was home; still away for the holidays. I managed to stay a few nights in each place."

Sherlock made no move to approach the food. “It went well. Everything went smoothly,” he confirmed. “I might be disappearing again later tonight though. I’m waiting for a text from someone.” He had bought more than his own share this time, and he had someone interested in buying the extra.

mr-trevor-blog

“Ah…right.” He brushed his fingers through Gloria’s fur for a few moments as he fought an inner war, one it seemed he was always waging whenever Sherlock returned like this. Victor wanted to say something. He wanted to ask why Sherlock did this- he had more than enough money, that wasn’t why. He wanted to ask if the drugs were really that good at all.

Instead, he flashed a grin. “Well, while you’re here, why don’t you sit down instead of towering over there? Doctor Who’s on in a bit, it’s very classic- season 4.”

#mrtrevor #mr-trevor #victor #rp

Sherlock looked back to Victor. He sometimes felt a slight guilt when he looked at the other young man, like he was somehow hurting him with his drug use. He always quickly swept it away though. It was ridiculous; it wasn't anything to concern Victor with. It wasn't like they were seeing each other. They just shared a living space and were friends, despite the fact that Sherlock would have enjoyed being more.

As much as sitting close to him and watching telly sounded tempting, he wasn't in the mood to deal with his desires for more. Not today. "I should go get some studying in, since I missed class," he offered as an excuse, though he knew it was a horrid lie. He was probably just going to sit in his room and stare out the window and think for a while.

+stilltheonlyone started following you

stilltheonlyone-deactivated2013

stilltheonlyone:

“You do, huh?” John bit his bottom lip as he stared at the man, watching the smoke. “I - errm - I needed to get out for fresh air,” John murmured. “My house isn’t far from here.”

Sherlock nodded. “My home is technically just outside London, though I’m not precisely welcome there.” Mycroft had official kicked him out until he went through rehab. “I’ve been bouncing around a bit for about a month now,” which was his way of saying he had nowhere to live.

John scrunched his nose, staring at the man curiously. “Not welcomed there? Well, that makes two of us,” John murmured. “Errm, but you’re not by yourself, are you?” John asked.

#stilltheonlyone #john #rp

Sherlock nodded, not about to lie. "I'm essentially homeless at the moment. It's not that bad though."

the--maestro

{ the hunt of vultures.

The sewers of London were not the most ideal place to be. The atmosphere was tangible with a pungent stench. It was almost impossible to trace where the smell came from, since it was almost as if the foul scent completely surrounded you. Everything was dark save for the few dim lights along the walls. Rats of abnormally (and alarmingly) large size scampered about. Crimson eyes of these vermin glowed from the darkness, constantly watching and lurking.

From one end of the dark tunnel, a flood of light appeared. Faint footsteps echoed as a young man walked down the paved side path set to the side of the stream in the tunnel’s center. His name was Ludwig van Amsel. He was a dark-haired youth of tall height with a near skeletal frame, since his diet consisted mainly of tea, crackers, and the occasional sandwich. Being a highly prolific, highly in demand entertainment composer left no time for something time consuming such as eating. He wore a black long coat over his usual attire of a dress shirt and dark trousers. Today, the tie was let loose. He carried only a flashlight in his hand, and a gun in the back of his pants. Ludwig was not…fond of guns. They were uncreative. No time to savor the injury and/or kill. But this time, he was not on a mission to strike a target. The weapon was for self-defense. The objective was to find a killer. His interference.

There was a serial killer of children in London. Since Ludwig targeted adults who specifically caused harm onto children, he could not let this pass. The London police were (as per usual) absolutely and utterly incompetent. Thus, the boy had to take matters into his own hands. He would find this killer, then make him pay with his own life.

Ludwig came to an abrupt halt. He heard approaching footsteps. He quickly darted to the side to stand in a blindspot. After turning off the flashlight, Ludwig withdrew the gun. He held his breath as he waited.

#vultures #hybrid-sociopath #hybridsociopath #ludwig #rp

Sherlock wasn't sure why he was surprised; Mycroft always did stupid things, and then proceeded to claim they were 'for Sherlock's own good.' This was thesecondtime the eldest Holmes had forced him into rehab, and the second time he had managed to survive withdrawal from his various drugs of choice. And though he had lied his way through it, he knew this time he had to stay clean. His record was too heavy with possession charges, and if he was caught again, he would go to prison.

As stubborn as Sherlock was, he wasn't stupid. He knew that it was better to simply conceded on this point. He could relapse later when the Yard wasn't so keen on tracking him down. Most of the officers actually volunteered for patrol with the hopes of bringing him in, given how many times the teenager had insulted them all. But that wasn't the point right now.

The point was that without the drugs, Sherlock had been left with a huge void of entertainment, and constantly found himself bored. In order to remedy this, he began to look into crimes, specifically murders. After he investigated his first case (receiving no credit, of course), he found that the addictive rush of adrenaline and the way it engaged his mind was a very enjoyable substitute for the drugs.

So when this serial killer took to removing children, Sherlock dove right in. His trail had led him to the sewers of London, and he was walking along the ledge as he looked around. He had sufficient evidence to say that the next body would be dumped down here, and he intended to catch the man before he could dispose of it. He had a torch, but it was in the pocket of his long coat; he was more suited for the darkness for now.

After about half an hour, the teen heard a set of footsteps and grinned, following after them. He tracked the figure quietly as he could, but eventually heard the footsteps stop. He hesitated a moment before continuing in the same direction, cautious with every step.

+lonelylordoftime started following you

Sherlock looked up. “And who might you be?”

The Doctor shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “The Doctor. Hello!” He said, pulling out one of his hands to give a small wave before replacing it back into its pocket. “An’ let me guess. Judging by the surroundings an’ the condition of the place, not to mention your current state and odor i’d ‘ave to guess none other than the Legendary Sherlock Holmes, am I right? An’ mind you, I usually am about these kinds of things.”

Sherlock furrowed his brows. “Legendary?” he questioned, confused. He scoffed slightly. “I’m not sure what you’re playing at, but I’m far from legendary. Maybe legendary to Scotland Yard, considering how many times I’ve been brought in on charges and then mysteriously gotten them dropped thanks to my brother.”

“Oi, you’re younger than the last time we met… Wha’ year is it?” He raised an eyebrow at the other, studying him carefully.

“What do you mean last time we met? I’ve never seen you before in my life,” Sherlock replied with a measure of confusion. He could feel a slight tremor in his hand, and he took out a cigarette to light it up and take a deep drag, needing the nicotine. “And it’s 2012,” he replied after an exhale of smoke.

The Doctor’s face bore an expression of repulsion at the smoke, fanning the area around his face before speaking again. “Ah… we ‘aven’t met yet, blimey, well, now we ‘ave.” He said, scratching the back of his head nervously. “Well, migh’ as well do the introductions then. Either now or twenty years from now, up to you.” He shrugged, avoiding the smoke he exhaled. “I’m The Doctor! You’ll know who I am soon enough, chap.”

#//lol could you just imagine how awkward a drug deal would be with the Doctor right there?#//stop him from being destructive Doctor!#//save the day!!!#//lol sorry nightblogging is kicking in #//it's like 3am here #lonelylordoftime #doctor #rp

The next exhaled breath was directed sideways, away from the man. He nodded, still looking a bit skeptical. "Right. Sherlock Holmes, though you clearly know that for some reason. Either way, I don't suggest you hang around here much longer. I have someone coming by that I need to speak with, and I don't think they'll take kindly to a third party."

+lonelylordoftime started following you

Sherlock looked up. “And who might you be?”

The Doctor shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “The Doctor. Hello!” He said, pulling out one of his hands to give a small wave before replacing it back into its pocket. “An’ let me guess. Judging by the surroundings an’ the condition of the place, not to mention your current state and odor i’d ‘ave to guess none other than the Legendary Sherlock Holmes, am I right? An’ mind you, I usually am about these kinds of things.”

Sherlock furrowed his brows. “Legendary?” he questioned, confused. He scoffed slightly. “I’m not sure what you’re playing at, but I’m far from legendary. Maybe legendary to Scotland Yard, considering how many times I’ve been brought in on charges and then mysteriously gotten them dropped thanks to my brother.”

“Oi, you’re younger than the last time we met… Wha’ year is it?” He raised an eyebrow at the other, studying him carefully.

#lonelylordoftime #//gotta love time travel #doctor #rp

"What do you mean last time we met? I've never seen you before in my life," Sherlock replied with a measure of confusion. He could feel a slight tremor in his hand, and he took out a cigarette to light it up and take a deep drag, needing the nicotine. "And it's 2012," he replied after an exhale of smoke.

+lonelylordoftime started following you

Sherlock looked up. “And who might you be?”

The Doctor shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “The Doctor. Hello!” He said, pulling out one of his hands to give a small wave before replacing it back into its pocket. “An’ let me guess. Judging by the surroundings an’ the condition of the place, not to mention your current state and odor i’d ‘ave to guess none other than the Legendary Sherlock Holmes, am I right? An’ mind you, I usually am about these kinds of things.”

#//lol Doctor #//you and your future knowledge are confusing teen!Sherlock #//but you're a good influence all the same #doctor #lonelylordoftime #rp

Sherlock furrowed his brows. "Legendary?" he questioned, confused. He scoffed slightly. "I'm not sure what you're playing at, but I'm far from legendary. Maybe legendary to Scotland Yard, considering how many times I've been brought in on charges and then mysteriously gotten them dropped thanks to my brother."

+lonelylordoftime started following you

Sherlock looked up. "And who might you be?"

#lonelylordoftime #rp #doctor #welcome! :D

Love Addict || Sheriarty || beforekingjames

Sherlock Holmes slipped down the familiar alleyway, pulling his jacket around him closer. He had initially thought that it was an appropriate temperature to leave his coat and scarf at the flat, but he had misjudged the weather. He shivered slightly in the chilly air as he glanced around the dark space.

He spotted the man ahead of him then, bundled up a little more securely against the cold. The transaction was seamless; money was handed over in exchange for the substance, and Sherlock felt relief flood his system at the pleasant weight of the new purchase in his hands. It had been a while, and he just wanted to get his fix and go home to relax, not too keen on getting caught once again. His brother had told him he wouldn’t help him get off of charges anymore unless he went through rehabilitation, and he wasn’t precisely prepared for that.

He knew most of the customers would go out; they’d get drunk, go to clubs, have sex, things like that. But Sherlock didn’t know how to fit in with that crowd, despite the subconscious wish for attention from others. Relationships had never worked for him, and people constantly frustrated him. So for now he would pacify himself by shooting up and going home to waste away while he worked.

beforekingjames

To say he was itching for a hit was as incorrect as anyone could be. Jim’s hunger for the high was stronger than it had been before but he didn’t let it shine though as he walked so casually down the sidewalk of the bustling London streets. He made a few sharp turns, winding his way down, deeper and deeper into the belly of the city before that familiar scent of life hit him and he was buried under shadow.

As he passed by the usual customers of the very best of the best (he wasn’t scum, after all), Jim noticed one in particular he’d never forget. He had seen him around a few times before, who couldn’t recognize those eyes, that face, those legs… With a crooked grin and come hither eyes, he walked by the nameless fellow in favour of getting his usual supply.

The money was given and his purchase made, Jim turned around to saunter down the alleyway before stopping in front of Sherlock, pulling out a cigarette and placed it between his lips, “Have a light?” he said around the fag, his chocolate brown eyes staring hard into those bright grey pools.