Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective (
alldeduction) wrote in
thecapitol2013-05-13 12:33 pm
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[open]
Who| Sherlock Holmes and OPEN!
What| Sherlock returns from the dead and isn't very happy about it, and the events that happen leading up to and after the interview with the capitol. He'll basically be wandering around scowly-like so feel free to run into him anywhere. District 2 mates feel free to pounce on him when he gets in, and he'll also be showing up in District 7.
Where| Wherever!
When| From Sherlock's death up to current
Warnings/Notes| Might have graphic description of his death in the arena, if it comes up, otherwise none.
Sherlock half-hoped that he wouldn't wake up this time. That perhaps after all, the world still made logical sense and he couldn't return from the dead, perhaps that after the second time of feeling his life leave him he would be left to rest in a semblance of peace.
But it wasn't to be.
He woke up with a shuddering start, breath slamming into his lungs as he sucked it in like drowning. His hand immediately went to his chest but there was nothing there - no bruise, no shattered sternum, no broken bones. His lungs functioned normally. He was clean, again, and the ravenous gnawing hunger in his stomach was gone. He sat up. Exactly the same as he was the first time he had been brought here. The first time he had died.
He scowled, darkly, at nothing, and threw himself from the bed. Fine. This time, he would be prepared. This time, he would have a plan. And he did have one. Oh, but he did.
What| Sherlock returns from the dead and isn't very happy about it, and the events that happen leading up to and after the interview with the capitol. He'll basically be wandering around scowly-like so feel free to run into him anywhere. District 2 mates feel free to pounce on him when he gets in, and he'll also be showing up in District 7.
Where| Wherever!
When| From Sherlock's death up to current
Warnings/Notes| Might have graphic description of his death in the arena, if it comes up, otherwise none.
Sherlock half-hoped that he wouldn't wake up this time. That perhaps after all, the world still made logical sense and he couldn't return from the dead, perhaps that after the second time of feeling his life leave him he would be left to rest in a semblance of peace.
But it wasn't to be.
He woke up with a shuddering start, breath slamming into his lungs as he sucked it in like drowning. His hand immediately went to his chest but there was nothing there - no bruise, no shattered sternum, no broken bones. His lungs functioned normally. He was clean, again, and the ravenous gnawing hunger in his stomach was gone. He sat up. Exactly the same as he was the first time he had been brought here. The first time he had died.
He scowled, darkly, at nothing, and threw himself from the bed. Fine. This time, he would be prepared. This time, he would have a plan. And he did have one. Oh, but he did.
no subject
Her constant movement was making his own skin begin to prickle, as if she would soon give up on touching herself and the elevator and then start in on him - he's pressed himself into the corner of the Elevator to be as unobtrusive as possible. But it is impossible to ignore a direct question (or at least, John has told him time and time again that it is rude, and that they don't need to encourage people to kill them in the Arena). So he looks up, pale eyes hard as they catch hers.
The grammar grates.
"I am not 'down'," He said, his tone revealing just how much he despised the use of the word down in that context. "I was thinking."
And trying to avoid fingertips.
no subject
Crankyface McSullen's attitude is enough to dim her glow a little bit, but not extinguish it. The only thing Venus doesn't seem enamored by is her hair. It's not that it's bad hair, she thinks, it's just that her suit before had hair just like it, and while the locks are perfectly fine to tug at and twirl around, doing so just doesn't give them same thrill as running her hands over her face and neck. She pauses when she feels a little flutter around her collarbone. Her pulse. Amazing. The smile comes right back to her face.
Up until the elevator jerks and a screeching sound announces that they're about to have technical difficulties. Her face falls and crumples like wadded up paper. It doesn't matter that she has nowhere to go; she smacks the elevator door with an open palm.
no subject
Drugs, probably.
He staggers slightly as the elevators grind to a halt and he glares upward, a hand pressed against the wall to steady himself. It isn't as if he's particularly happy to be stranded in an elevator either, and immediately starts rummaging his pockets for the communicator that he was given.
no subject
"Okay. Fine. I'm not heading anywhere anyway. I can wait." She looks to his hands. "Please tell me you're about to pop a cell phone. Are you one of the maintenance staff around here or something?"
no subject
He'd never posted to the network before, but there was a first time for everything.
He turned it on, cleared his throat, and said into it: "Elevators are down. Perhaps someone should see to that before I am forced to fix something."
no subject
"Well, this is fun. Not exactly how I want to spend my last days before I go gallivanting to my death." She leans back on her palms and frowns. "Usually I'd be able to teleport out of here."
no subject
"Finally!" He says as the elevator grinds up to the next floor and the doors shakily open.
no subject
"Alright," It only takes her a bit to shake it off, almost visibly squaring her shoulders, "That was brief."