paradisa | 033 || dictated;

[Sherlock has been keeping to himself. Experiments to run, theories to test, thoughts to be had. He knows how to keep himself busy when it's necessary.

Unfortunately, his new hermit lifestyle doesn't agree well with the high-energy, high-maintenance puppy that's been passed down to him. Walking Gladstone around the flat doesn't seem to be cutting it, and he has no concept of what to do to make it better.

So predictably, when the journal opens, it does so to absolute chaos.

It must have fallen or been thrown, because it catches the tail-end of a BANG. There's a far off groan of frustration, followed by the much-closer snuffling of a dog that's found something new to investigate.]

Stop it. Stop-- [There's a series of small yips as Sherlock stoops to pick the journal up off the floor...

... Followed by an awkward pause while he debates between slamming it shut for the sake of his dignity, and asking for the help he clearly needs.

Well, the castle's heard the worst part already, and he is desperate. He clears his throat.]

My dog [the words sound stilted even as they come out of his mouth, but he presses on like what he's about to say isn't patently ridiculous] has been... energetic, lately. Too much. Walking isn't enough, apparently, and since I'm not about to let him loose through the hallways, I need someone with a dog approximately the same size and age to give him something to do.

Bloodhound, three months. Let me know.

[And the journal shuts, dignity only mostly damaged.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It's a pig, probably around 25 kilos. ... It bounces around. A lot.

Hm. [He takes a moment to think that over.] Could be effective. Is it easy to catch?

Not really.

You might feel better if you're a bit more confident in your assessment.

Because Gladstone will chase it, and he enjoys chewing the things he catches.

Well, he comes when he's called. But if he wants to get away, a dog won't catch him.

Good enough.

I won't need it long. An hour, maximum, most likely.

When? Now?

Is that a problem?

[a pause]

No, that should be fine. Where?

Outside the castle, by the steps where the snow's been cleared away.

I'll be there in a minute, then.

[no literally, one minute. she's ninja-ing over from town and appearing in a puff of smoke with a little gray pig in her arms]

[Sherlock had already taken Gladstone downstairs to at least keep him from wrecking the flat any more. They're both startled when she appears, though their responses are slightly different. Sherlock goes stiff, and Gladstone barks.

A lot.

Sherlock has to raise his voice a little to speak over him.]

Very prompt.

[she just gives him a bored shrug. ain't no thang, sherlock!] You said now.

[but she'll ignore the barking and glance down at the pig in her arms] Alright, you ready to get some exercise? [she's getting a nod and some excited snuffling in exchange]

[Sherlock watches her closely for a moment, but gets snapped out of his reverie when Gladstone starts to jump as well as bark. He scowls, but there's not much heat in his voice.]

Yes, alright, you've gotten what you wanted. Get it out of your system.

[Gladstone seems more than happy to oblige.]

[well, she'll let the pig go, then -- and it bounces gleefully away on its tail into the snow. CATCH ME IF YOU CAN, DOG!

she'll just watch for a moment before glancing ~~way, way~~ up at sherlock] So you said the castle just gave him to you?

[Gladstone leaps after him, and seems to realize belatedly that the snow is difficult to wade through. Not that it's stopping him -- in fact, it seems to make the chase more exciting.

Sherlock watches, passively.]

For Christmas, yes. Plenty of other things it could have given me from home, and it defaulted to this.

Well ... At least you got something, right? [she grins] I mean, I've only recently learned about it, but isn't the whole point of Christmas to give, not to get?

That's what the greeting cards tell us.

You could also call crippling financial difficulties the 'point of Christmas,' but that doesn't sell nearly as well.

Huh? [she squints at him] Crippling financial difficulties? What, people can't afford to buy presents or something?

They can't and they do anyway. As well as the food, the decorations, the vacations, the alcohol, the odd hospital trip....

Lovely thing, commercialization.

How can you buy something if you don't have the money to pay for it?

[guess who doesn't know what a credit card does]

You get a bank to buy it for you, sign an agreement to pay the balance on pain of collectors ringing your house every forty five minutes, and then dodge bills for months on end when the money never magically appears.

Sounds like a pain in the ass. [she frowns, glancing back out into the snow in front of them]

[That gets a small smirk out of him.]

Most people have trouble with self-control, you'll find.

Well, that much is obvious. Plenty of people here are perfect examples of everything that can go terribly wrong when you don't control yourself.

(no subject)

workaphilic - 2013-03-19 05:19 (UTC) - Expand

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