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]

[He's not devoid of movement, himself. He dips and sways with the music, though this time he seems to be tugging it along rather than the other way around.

Otherwise, he'll give them room. The focus is the dance, after all.]

[ofhope]

[ The dance which is very lively indeed! But he keeps up well enough, not exactly a pro, but not stumbling along either. He better get some treats from the kitchen after this. ]

[heloise]

[ All the treats! Lucrezia picks up the tempo along with the music, sending an amused glance at Sherlock because he must have chosen this song for a reason. To fluster Joshua? Almost there, but not quite even as the music winds to its end.

She holds her laughter for after, letting go of Joshua for the most exuberant applause. Much deserved! ]

[workaphilic]

[A twirl of his bow, a flourish to finish. Lucrezia gets her dance, Sherlock gets his schadenfreude, and Joshua gets his treats. Wins all around! He bends at the waist, a real bow for the applause this time.]

I'd say I hope that was sufficient, but it seems I have my answer already.

[ofhope]

Okay, now you two. You can dance, and I'll play.

[heloise]

[ Turns out Sherlock won't get his end of the deal, but she's certainly biased, now raising a hand for him to take. It's the gentleman who should come to her anyway. ]

Will it be a happy one again?

[workaphilic]

[Spoilsport! Sherlock casts Joshua a sideways glance, but he sets his violin down and steps toward Lucrezia all the same. He will not be beaten!!]

By all means. No need to hold back on my account, I'm sure I'll be more than able to keep up.