034 || written;

[workaphilic]

[It's some ungodly hour of the morning when a note appears in the journal, for fellow insomniacs or information gluttons who like to read new entries first thing. There's barely any ambient sound recorded; just faint bubbling from a nearby experiment, and the scratch of pen on paper.

(Whether that's out of respect for sleeping residents or something else, well. It's not that hard to say, with him.)]

What are you getting out of this arrangement?

If your first instinct is to say 'nothing,' don't bother. You obviously haven't been paying attention, and I'm not interested in being subjected to your blather. Keep your ignorant bliss to yourself.

The rest of you: there must be something. Paradisa wouldn't bother with you otherwise. If a portal appeared in the lobby tomorrow, ready to whisk you back to your world, your time, your life -- what would be the thing that kept you from stepping through it?

Don't be boring.

SH

((Tags will be slow! Thanks for your patience, everyone.))

Comments

[workaphilic]

[Sherlock lifts the bow from the violin with a flourish, and inclines his head to the room in a half-bow.

He turns to sit, to take a moment to wipe down the violin, and glances to the door.]

Seems we've a larger audience than I anticipated.

[He sounds more amused than annoyed.]

[heloise]

[ She raises her hands and claps especially for the guest then, slowly walking closer with a laugh. Her eyes are still on the tall man with the violin when she takes her seat next to Joshua. ]

A pleaseed audience, I assure you. [ She turns to Joshua. ]
I never knew you played. What is this called?

[ofhope]

[ Unsure if she's talking about the song or the instrument, he'll start with the more obvious. ]

Never seen a piano before, or just never heard anyone with skill play?

[ Reaching up, he pokes gently against Lucrezia's cheek before looking back to Sherlock. ]

She likes to wander around and get into things. You know, like a cat? Lucrezia, you should introduce yourself.

[workaphilic]

[He studies her, the same careful way he studies everyone else.]

Can't fault good taste. [Another slight tilt of his head; this time, an acknowledgment.] Sherlock Holmes.

[heloise]

[ That is no way to introduce yourself, Sherlock.

She chuckles and moves to stand, but not before trailing her hand along Joshua's thigh, stepping closer now so she can give him a curtsy. Making a show out of it. ]

Lucrezia Borgia. At your service.

[ofhope]

[ The look he offers at watching them is nothing short of entertained, though only lingering on Sherlock long enough to see if he reacts to the Borgia name. Most people don't, really, but it's always fun to see. ]

She lives here now. Her taste is debatable, though.

[workaphilic]

[He doesn't. If there's one thing that didn't make it past the entrance of his mind palace, it's history.

He does, however, smirk at that last statement, settling his violin back in its case.]

Now, that's not quite fair. You did appreciate the music, correct, Ms. Borgia?

[heloise]

[ She turns to smile at Joshua over her shoulder, certainly a way to compliment and insult her at the same time. Bantering is a pastime she is fond of, though. ]

Madonna Lucrezia, if you insist, or simply Borgia.

How could I not appreciate such music? Even if I must say I prefer ciaconna still. Dances.

[ofhope]

[ Whoops, there she goes again with the dances. He stays quiet, giving them a chance to chat. ]

[workaphilic]

Madonna Lucrezia.

[He sets his bow across the mouth of the case, but doesn't move to loosen it yet.]

The initial request was for music for thought. Not much room for that, in a dance.

[heloise]

[ She nods in approval, but she didn't make the request and besides, noise doesn't bother her as much. She turns back to Joshua then. ]

Has he fulfilled this request?

[ofhope]

Why, are you keeping score?

[workaphilic]

No, please, I'd like to hear the answer. I don't make a habit of disappointing expectations.

[heloise]

[ She chuckles turning to walk back to Joshua and rest a hand on his shoulder then. ]

Are you trying to spare his feelings?

[ofhope]

[ Reaching up to rest his hand over hers, Joshua lightly flicks the back of her wrist. ]

That would be an insult he doesn't need. It was phenomenal. I never get to hear music like that anymore.

[workaphilic]

My pleasure. [He's pleased, though.] I did owe you, after all.

[ofhope]

And now I owe you? I should drag it out just as long, but the result wouldn't be near as worth it.

[heloise]

[ She laughs, squeezing his shoulder lightly. ]

What do you owe him for, Sherlock?

[workaphilic]

I may have made the offer a few months ago.

[He shrugs. C'est la vie!]

In this case I'd hope you'd take the high road, as it were.

[ofhope]

[ Pfft, how much he cares about the high road... But he likes Sherlock enough. At least, compared to the level most people are at, which is about the same level as flies and bees, alternating between boring and irritating. ]

Revenge.

[heloise]

[ Dudes talking. She arranges her skirt to sit beside Joshua again, not quite understanding what they're talking about but keeping quiet enough. ]

[workaphilic]

[Speak for yourself, bees are the bomb diggity.

This, at least, sounds potentially not-boring. He sets to loosening his bow.]

Well, we've established that you're not one to dally. I'd hope you wouldn't forgo the opportunity just because you've been dragging your feet on settling your debts.

[ofhope]

It isn't as if I'd expect to break even with the castle.

[workaphilic]

Not much to revenge if you never get to reap the reward, is there?

[ofhope]

How would you? If taking apart the castle brick by brick doesn't make it suffer...