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seesobserves) wrote2014-01-29 03:17 pm
seesobserves) wrote2014-01-29 03:17 pm
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tartarusnet
|| Player Information ||
Name: Ronen
Personal Journal:moreinsanerer
Time zone: CST
Contact: email: rorodiculous@gmail.com | AIM: RoRodiculous
Current Characters: n/a
|| Character Information ||
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Name: Sherlock Holmes
Canon Point: 3x03, His Last Vow, after the confrontation at Appledore
History: List of Sherlock Episodes with summaries.
[Optional] Character Development and Relationship Transfer from previous RP: Transfer of previous CR and character development from Bete Noire [betenoire_rp].
Sherlock spent nearly two full years in Bete Noire. Also known as the City of Sin, the city exerted an unnatural pull on all its inhabitants, tempting them toward their darker aspects. For Sherlock, this manifested as a slow descent toward morphine and cocaine addiction, a higher sensitivity to his own paranoia, and a slightly greater propensity toward violence. He did manage to carve out a place for himself in the city as a police consultant, much the same as he had in London -- the largest difference being that in Bete Noire, the supernatural was very much natural. As a matter of adaptive survival, Sherlock quickly came to accept that things such as magic and vampires (et cetera) existed. While he never became all that proficient at magic himself, he developed a solid understanding of its basics, and retains the classifications of several types of demon, vampire, and other non-human creatures.
He developed CR with several characters during his time in the city, and was temporarily reunited with his friend John Watson. However, his most significant and immediately relevant CR was with Patrick Jane [thetruthismine].
In Patrick, Sherlock discovered a like mind almost at once: someone who was, at least, clever enough to go toe-to-toe with him. Still, they might have been something close to friends sooner if it hadn't been for Sherlock: not because of any conscious decisions he made, but because he had only ever been antagonized (or at least challenged) by any person he'd met who was as smart as him. He was attracted to the idea of a verbal sparring partner far more than to that of a friend, and so Patrick's genuine attempts at getting to know him better could only be interpreted in Sherlock's mind as some kind of trick. This caused him to be on the defensive, and in some cases lash out.
Until the one time he went too far. The main point of contention between them had always been Patrick's inability to accept the supernatural, and eventually Sherlock threw it in his face, saying that they had no more to say to one another until Patrick could face reality. Weeks of silence between them followed, and Sherlock found himself missing the mental stimulation his conversations with Patrick had provided. So he hunted him down, only to find Patrick a wreck. Facing the world around him had almost destroyed him -- and Sherlock was responsible. This is where his understanding of Patrick began to shift. Sherlock found himself willing to help the man get back on his feet.
Other milestones in their relationship came when James Moriarty briefly made an appearance in the city, nearly rupturing the bond between them, and later when Patrick was attacked, physically and psychically, by a powerful vampire. Sherlock found the attack, which Patrick had had no way of defending against, unconscionable, and dedicated himself to remedying it: to show that men like them (ordinary ones, by the city's standards) were not helpless in the face of the supernatural... and to restore Patrick himself, who Sherlock had begun to value.
When John Watson vanished, Patrick was more or less all Sherlock had left. After having Patrick assist him with kicking his recently amped-up drug habit, Sherlock moved in with him, knowing that being left entirely on his own could only be harmful to his well-being. Besides, there was plenty of space in Tony Stark's mansion.
Personality: With only a few, rare exceptions, Sherlock has had a lifetime of being - by an enormous degree - the smartest one in the room. This has given him a prejudice of most people as being morons and idiots, as he’s had to watch people catch up to points that had become obvious to him ages ago, as well as listen to them calling him things like “freak” or telling him to piss off just because he displayed his natural talents. Somewhere along the line, he decided that if people were just going to think of him as a weirdo anyway, he needn’t make any efforts at being friendly or fitting in. Although he does not deliberately antagonize everyone he comes across, he rarely makes an effort to reign in his cleverness or try to accommodate anyone for the sake of politeness. And he’s a terrible smartarse. And a showoff. Put all that together, and he’s not one to typically leave a good first impression.
He describes himself as “a high-functioning sociopath,” but although much of his behavior could be called antisocial, the truth is more complex. He does, in fact, lack empathy for the vast majority of people and sentimental instincts in most cases. He also claims that being sympathetic would slow him down when it comes to his work as a consulting detective. These expressions are genuine, and there may have been the seed of an antisocial disorder planted by something in his childhood, but it’s also something Sherlock nurtured and encouraged in himself for a long time, on purpose. On a perverse level Sherlock wants to be a sociopath - to divorce himself from emotions entirely, because the chief thing that matters is the work, and logical thought is hindered when sentiment gets in the way.
That, at least, is his reasoning -- but he hasn’t been entirely successful. Although it may have taken him until recently, he’s found a small group of people he genuinely cares for and who care about him in return. It’s telling that Sherlock accepts these connections (once he manages to acknowledge that they exist), and even attempts to repair them when something goes wrong. Underneath the antisocial shell is an extremely lonely person who only got used to being solitary because he was so far ahead of the pack, and because losing the things and people he was close to hurt too deeply. If he sees and accepts someone as one of "his people," he will cling to them and defend them with everything he has: his considerably brilliant mind, or, if it comes to it, his life.
His time spent alone after the Fall has also affected his ability to remain distant. Once he'd gotten used to having friends, isolating himself from them completely was more painful than he'd anticipated. He's grown to be more appreciative of the people he surrounds himself with, and has finally started to recognize the value of companionship and trust. In addition, the two years after the Fall were rife with mental and emotional pressure, and so Sherlock came back with some other minor shifts in his personality: where before he was more easily able to detach himself from his emotions, those efforts have been worn thin by stress, loneliness, and trauma. His feelings live closer to the surface, and he is more likely to become visibly agitated under pressure. This has the tangential effect of making him seem, on the outside, more "human" than he used to come off. He's slightly more careful in how he deals with the world in general, not so much because he's afraid of hurting other people, but because he's had to develop new defense mechanisms after the failure of his old ones. At the same time, he still doesn't tend to discuss his feelings, even with those he does trust. Old habits are hard to break.
Sherlock is an addict. Not in the sense that he is currently using drugs (although canon presents it as an on-again-off-again thing, and events in Bete Noire made him more susceptible to falling off the wagon), but that he has an addictive personality - an addict never really stops being one. This is shown in the obsessiveness with which he approaches his work. In the absence of their drug of choice, an addict has to find something else to occupy their life, and it will often consume them in the same way the drug once had. For Sherlock, the science of deduction is that something else. When he finds himself with no problems to solve, he turns quickly to unusual and erratic behavior.
Skills | Powers: Sherlock is a genius with a near-eidetic memory and a unique skill for deduction. He can tell just about anything about almost any person at a glance, reading from their face, their clothes, their possessions, and any other number of physical cues. He can and has been fooled (or stumped) by master manipulators, people who are well-practiced in presenting ‘masks,’ but the vast majority of people are, to Sherlock, an open book.
He has made his name as a consulting detective, called in to assist where the ordinary police find themselves clueless. In accordance with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s original version of the character, he is an expert in several subjects, including (but not limited to) chemistry, human anatomy, and legal proceedings. As mentioned in the Previous CR section, he has a basic understanding of magical systems and a mental catalog of supernatural creatures. He’s a living, breathing crime lab, a one-man investigative squad: "CSI Baker Street," as Lestrade calls him.
Often his abilities can seem impossible or supernatural to those around him, but they are limited: by what he sees as important (he doesn’t pay much mind to current politics or pop culture and likewise dismisses any subject he thinks is irrelevant to his work), by location (he may hold a detailed map of London in his head, but finding himself in a wholly new place will disorient him) and, occasionally, by plain old human error. He doesn’t always solve his cases, and every once in a while he reaches a conclusion (or goes on an assumption) that’s flat-out wrong.
His strengths aren't all based in his mind: he's a skilled fighter, holding a rank of first dan in Judo, has at least a passing familiarity with a few other self-defense systems, and is proficient with the use of handguns.
First Person Sample:
[Audio post. Sherlock's tone is steady and businesslike, the words coming out at a clipped, even pace.]
Please refer: methods of self-defense taught within this city, and the locations of venues where one might get instructed. Prefer functional styles over the prettier ones, although anything more functional than, say, Capoeira would at least be worth considering.
[His voice lowers in tone and volume here: an aside.] Because apparently finding oneself in the Underworld doesn't make any difference to the need to maintain physical activity and general health, although of course one questions the function of a heartbeat after death... [And he trails off there, becoming silent for a moment. After the pause, he takes in a sudden, short breath, and his voice brightens again.]
Anyway. Looking forward to your recommendations.
Third Person Sample:
He'd been shot.
Probably. The rattle of an AR15 would have been easily lost in the adrenaline and (more importantly) the chopping of helicopter blades not fifty metres away. Some Special Ops officer who was just a bit too trigger-happy or, hell, might have been under Magnussen's thumb. The bullet (or bullets) would have torn through him faster and more savagely than the one from Mary's handgun; if he didn't realize it was happening, the shock would have hit him before he could stop it, and now there was a faint, sing-song voice mocking him from a place deep in his mind: "This is it, Sherlock... For real, this time. Any second you'll be seeing those pretty white lights..."
...except that the ringing in his ears was receding, and he couldn't hear the shouting, or the helicopter, or anything but a light creaking and the sound of water lapping. The texture under his temple was wood, not stone. All that hit him within a fraction of a second, and Sherlock jerked his head up, a rush of air entering his lungs (he could breathe, no pain), eyes opening. No white lights. Hardly any light; just enough to make out the shape of a curved wall nearby, and now he sensed how the vessel was rocking underneath him.
With effort, he pulled himself up to his knees, gloved hands clutching the edge of the boat. There was a vague shifting of movement in his peripheral vision -- didn't care, not threatening, block it out. His thumbs moved over the wood, against the grain, feeling the texture. How...?
This was familiar. He'd been here before -- no, not here, but in a seemingly impossible circumstance, hyper-alert in one place one second, disorientated and confused in an entirely different place the next. Although, no, that wasn't right, couldn't be right.
He was still gripping the edge of the boat, couldn't let go, but he raised his eyes, trying to see anything though the haze of darkness. Very nearly called for John, until he turned to his left and registered the figure nearby, cloaked, slowly navigating the dark sea with a long pole.
This made absolutely no sense, and he couldn't get his bearings. Sherlock held on tight and breathed deeply, while something cold started spreading through his chest. He almost didn't notice the lights ahead until he realized he could see his hands more clearly.
Marks:
V [Violence] - inside of right forearm, near the elbow.
A [Addiction] - inside of left forearm, near the elbow.
D [Deceit] - left of center on his chest, over his heart.
Name: Ronen
Personal Journal:
moreinsanererTime zone: CST
Contact: email: rorodiculous@gmail.com | AIM: RoRodiculous
Current Characters: n/a
|| Character Information ||
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Name: Sherlock Holmes
Canon Point: 3x03, His Last Vow, after the confrontation at Appledore
History: List of Sherlock Episodes with summaries.
[Optional] Character Development and Relationship Transfer from previous RP: Transfer of previous CR and character development from Bete Noire [
betenoire_rp].Sherlock spent nearly two full years in Bete Noire. Also known as the City of Sin, the city exerted an unnatural pull on all its inhabitants, tempting them toward their darker aspects. For Sherlock, this manifested as a slow descent toward morphine and cocaine addiction, a higher sensitivity to his own paranoia, and a slightly greater propensity toward violence. He did manage to carve out a place for himself in the city as a police consultant, much the same as he had in London -- the largest difference being that in Bete Noire, the supernatural was very much natural. As a matter of adaptive survival, Sherlock quickly came to accept that things such as magic and vampires (et cetera) existed. While he never became all that proficient at magic himself, he developed a solid understanding of its basics, and retains the classifications of several types of demon, vampire, and other non-human creatures.
He developed CR with several characters during his time in the city, and was temporarily reunited with his friend John Watson. However, his most significant and immediately relevant CR was with Patrick Jane [
thetruthismine].In Patrick, Sherlock discovered a like mind almost at once: someone who was, at least, clever enough to go toe-to-toe with him. Still, they might have been something close to friends sooner if it hadn't been for Sherlock: not because of any conscious decisions he made, but because he had only ever been antagonized (or at least challenged) by any person he'd met who was as smart as him. He was attracted to the idea of a verbal sparring partner far more than to that of a friend, and so Patrick's genuine attempts at getting to know him better could only be interpreted in Sherlock's mind as some kind of trick. This caused him to be on the defensive, and in some cases lash out.
Until the one time he went too far. The main point of contention between them had always been Patrick's inability to accept the supernatural, and eventually Sherlock threw it in his face, saying that they had no more to say to one another until Patrick could face reality. Weeks of silence between them followed, and Sherlock found himself missing the mental stimulation his conversations with Patrick had provided. So he hunted him down, only to find Patrick a wreck. Facing the world around him had almost destroyed him -- and Sherlock was responsible. This is where his understanding of Patrick began to shift. Sherlock found himself willing to help the man get back on his feet.
Other milestones in their relationship came when James Moriarty briefly made an appearance in the city, nearly rupturing the bond between them, and later when Patrick was attacked, physically and psychically, by a powerful vampire. Sherlock found the attack, which Patrick had had no way of defending against, unconscionable, and dedicated himself to remedying it: to show that men like them (ordinary ones, by the city's standards) were not helpless in the face of the supernatural... and to restore Patrick himself, who Sherlock had begun to value.
When John Watson vanished, Patrick was more or less all Sherlock had left. After having Patrick assist him with kicking his recently amped-up drug habit, Sherlock moved in with him, knowing that being left entirely on his own could only be harmful to his well-being. Besides, there was plenty of space in Tony Stark's mansion.
Personality: With only a few, rare exceptions, Sherlock has had a lifetime of being - by an enormous degree - the smartest one in the room. This has given him a prejudice of most people as being morons and idiots, as he’s had to watch people catch up to points that had become obvious to him ages ago, as well as listen to them calling him things like “freak” or telling him to piss off just because he displayed his natural talents. Somewhere along the line, he decided that if people were just going to think of him as a weirdo anyway, he needn’t make any efforts at being friendly or fitting in. Although he does not deliberately antagonize everyone he comes across, he rarely makes an effort to reign in his cleverness or try to accommodate anyone for the sake of politeness. And he’s a terrible smartarse. And a showoff. Put all that together, and he’s not one to typically leave a good first impression.
He describes himself as “a high-functioning sociopath,” but although much of his behavior could be called antisocial, the truth is more complex. He does, in fact, lack empathy for the vast majority of people and sentimental instincts in most cases. He also claims that being sympathetic would slow him down when it comes to his work as a consulting detective. These expressions are genuine, and there may have been the seed of an antisocial disorder planted by something in his childhood, but it’s also something Sherlock nurtured and encouraged in himself for a long time, on purpose. On a perverse level Sherlock wants to be a sociopath - to divorce himself from emotions entirely, because the chief thing that matters is the work, and logical thought is hindered when sentiment gets in the way.
That, at least, is his reasoning -- but he hasn’t been entirely successful. Although it may have taken him until recently, he’s found a small group of people he genuinely cares for and who care about him in return. It’s telling that Sherlock accepts these connections (once he manages to acknowledge that they exist), and even attempts to repair them when something goes wrong. Underneath the antisocial shell is an extremely lonely person who only got used to being solitary because he was so far ahead of the pack, and because losing the things and people he was close to hurt too deeply. If he sees and accepts someone as one of "his people," he will cling to them and defend them with everything he has: his considerably brilliant mind, or, if it comes to it, his life.
His time spent alone after the Fall has also affected his ability to remain distant. Once he'd gotten used to having friends, isolating himself from them completely was more painful than he'd anticipated. He's grown to be more appreciative of the people he surrounds himself with, and has finally started to recognize the value of companionship and trust. In addition, the two years after the Fall were rife with mental and emotional pressure, and so Sherlock came back with some other minor shifts in his personality: where before he was more easily able to detach himself from his emotions, those efforts have been worn thin by stress, loneliness, and trauma. His feelings live closer to the surface, and he is more likely to become visibly agitated under pressure. This has the tangential effect of making him seem, on the outside, more "human" than he used to come off. He's slightly more careful in how he deals with the world in general, not so much because he's afraid of hurting other people, but because he's had to develop new defense mechanisms after the failure of his old ones. At the same time, he still doesn't tend to discuss his feelings, even with those he does trust. Old habits are hard to break.
Sherlock is an addict. Not in the sense that he is currently using drugs (although canon presents it as an on-again-off-again thing, and events in Bete Noire made him more susceptible to falling off the wagon), but that he has an addictive personality - an addict never really stops being one. This is shown in the obsessiveness with which he approaches his work. In the absence of their drug of choice, an addict has to find something else to occupy their life, and it will often consume them in the same way the drug once had. For Sherlock, the science of deduction is that something else. When he finds himself with no problems to solve, he turns quickly to unusual and erratic behavior.
Skills | Powers: Sherlock is a genius with a near-eidetic memory and a unique skill for deduction. He can tell just about anything about almost any person at a glance, reading from their face, their clothes, their possessions, and any other number of physical cues. He can and has been fooled (or stumped) by master manipulators, people who are well-practiced in presenting ‘masks,’ but the vast majority of people are, to Sherlock, an open book.
He has made his name as a consulting detective, called in to assist where the ordinary police find themselves clueless. In accordance with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s original version of the character, he is an expert in several subjects, including (but not limited to) chemistry, human anatomy, and legal proceedings. As mentioned in the Previous CR section, he has a basic understanding of magical systems and a mental catalog of supernatural creatures. He’s a living, breathing crime lab, a one-man investigative squad: "CSI Baker Street," as Lestrade calls him.
Often his abilities can seem impossible or supernatural to those around him, but they are limited: by what he sees as important (he doesn’t pay much mind to current politics or pop culture and likewise dismisses any subject he thinks is irrelevant to his work), by location (he may hold a detailed map of London in his head, but finding himself in a wholly new place will disorient him) and, occasionally, by plain old human error. He doesn’t always solve his cases, and every once in a while he reaches a conclusion (or goes on an assumption) that’s flat-out wrong.
His strengths aren't all based in his mind: he's a skilled fighter, holding a rank of first dan in Judo, has at least a passing familiarity with a few other self-defense systems, and is proficient with the use of handguns.
First Person Sample:
[Audio post. Sherlock's tone is steady and businesslike, the words coming out at a clipped, even pace.]
Please refer: methods of self-defense taught within this city, and the locations of venues where one might get instructed. Prefer functional styles over the prettier ones, although anything more functional than, say, Capoeira would at least be worth considering.
[His voice lowers in tone and volume here: an aside.] Because apparently finding oneself in the Underworld doesn't make any difference to the need to maintain physical activity and general health, although of course one questions the function of a heartbeat after death... [And he trails off there, becoming silent for a moment. After the pause, he takes in a sudden, short breath, and his voice brightens again.]
Anyway. Looking forward to your recommendations.
Third Person Sample:
He'd been shot.
Probably. The rattle of an AR15 would have been easily lost in the adrenaline and (more importantly) the chopping of helicopter blades not fifty metres away. Some Special Ops officer who was just a bit too trigger-happy or, hell, might have been under Magnussen's thumb. The bullet (or bullets) would have torn through him faster and more savagely than the one from Mary's handgun; if he didn't realize it was happening, the shock would have hit him before he could stop it, and now there was a faint, sing-song voice mocking him from a place deep in his mind: "This is it, Sherlock... For real, this time. Any second you'll be seeing those pretty white lights..."
...except that the ringing in his ears was receding, and he couldn't hear the shouting, or the helicopter, or anything but a light creaking and the sound of water lapping. The texture under his temple was wood, not stone. All that hit him within a fraction of a second, and Sherlock jerked his head up, a rush of air entering his lungs (he could breathe, no pain), eyes opening. No white lights. Hardly any light; just enough to make out the shape of a curved wall nearby, and now he sensed how the vessel was rocking underneath him.
With effort, he pulled himself up to his knees, gloved hands clutching the edge of the boat. There was a vague shifting of movement in his peripheral vision -- didn't care, not threatening, block it out. His thumbs moved over the wood, against the grain, feeling the texture. How...?
This was familiar. He'd been here before -- no, not here, but in a seemingly impossible circumstance, hyper-alert in one place one second, disorientated and confused in an entirely different place the next. Although, no, that wasn't right, couldn't be right.
He was still gripping the edge of the boat, couldn't let go, but he raised his eyes, trying to see anything though the haze of darkness. Very nearly called for John, until he turned to his left and registered the figure nearby, cloaked, slowly navigating the dark sea with a long pole.
This made absolutely no sense, and he couldn't get his bearings. Sherlock held on tight and breathed deeply, while something cold started spreading through his chest. He almost didn't notice the lights ahead until he realized he could see his hands more clearly.
Marks:
V [Violence] - inside of right forearm, near the elbow.
A [Addiction] - inside of left forearm, near the elbow.
D [Deceit] - left of center on his chest, over his heart.