Sherlock Holmes (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
honeyedwords) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2013-08-08 07:27 pm
honeyedwords) wrote in thecapitol2013-08-08 07:27 pm
It's probably time for a celebration [OPEN]
Who: The Mentor Sherlock Holmes and you!
What: Moping, skulking, being inadvisably open about detesting the games. Standard Holmes fare.
Where: The District 3 Suites
When: Post-Maximus's victory
Warnings: Substance abuse references. Will add any more that come up if needed.
If nothing else, being in the Capitol for the games has reminded Holmes of why he's spent so much effort trying to avoid having to be in the Capitol for the games. He's a practiced hand at avoiding being wheedled into guest appearances at parties or any other such drivel, but the constant commotion and celebration while he's trying to study the footage from in the arena and work out the subtleties of what's needed and where isn't helpful in the least.
Neither, of course, is the constant, throbbing headache, the sleeplessness, or the gnawing feeling that he knows exactly what would make both of those go away very quickly and how to find it.
Perhaps it wasn't the most elegant of solutions, or the best way to get sponsors, but Holmes had found that the easiest solution to all of these issues had been to confine himself to his quarters for the duration. It had been a pleasant enough reprieve from all the hedonistic wallowing that made up life in the Capitol, but with the games over he supposes he has no excuse any longer, and would prefer to leave his room under his own power instead of being dragged out by peacekeepers under suspicion of conspiracy. So he emerges, looking for all the world like some manner of groggy burrowing animal that did not adequately prepare for hibernation before going under.
What: Moping, skulking, being inadvisably open about detesting the games. Standard Holmes fare.
Where: The District 3 Suites
When: Post-Maximus's victory
Warnings: Substance abuse references. Will add any more that come up if needed.
If nothing else, being in the Capitol for the games has reminded Holmes of why he's spent so much effort trying to avoid having to be in the Capitol for the games. He's a practiced hand at avoiding being wheedled into guest appearances at parties or any other such drivel, but the constant commotion and celebration while he's trying to study the footage from in the arena and work out the subtleties of what's needed and where isn't helpful in the least.
Neither, of course, is the constant, throbbing headache, the sleeplessness, or the gnawing feeling that he knows exactly what would make both of those go away very quickly and how to find it.
Perhaps it wasn't the most elegant of solutions, or the best way to get sponsors, but Holmes had found that the easiest solution to all of these issues had been to confine himself to his quarters for the duration. It had been a pleasant enough reprieve from all the hedonistic wallowing that made up life in the Capitol, but with the games over he supposes he has no excuse any longer, and would prefer to leave his room under his own power instead of being dragged out by peacekeepers under suspicion of conspiracy. So he emerges, looking for all the world like some manner of groggy burrowing animal that did not adequately prepare for hibernation before going under.
no subject
"Particularly nasty variety of designer monster that the game makers like to toss into arenas whenever things get boring. Their sting is hallucinogenic and usually fatal. They also have a fondness for a specific type of berry." One that he's noticed hasn't appeared in many games since. He supposes that watching the favorite career get pelted with fruit was funny once, but not enough to encourage an encore. "I managed to survive until there were only three tributes left, and used this to my advantage."
no subject
"We had a case once where a man planted a beehive in a park, near a route a particular woman would jog everyday. She was allergic, and he wanted to kill her in a way that wouldn't look like murder. That was his specialty. You...Sherlock...he was amused. I think he almost admired the guy, with his army of 'bee assassins.'"