010 || dictated;

[workaphilic]

[Evening, castle! Today is a day for an experiment.

Sherlock is in a hallway -- maybe yours! -- walking backwards with his journal open in his palm like a walkie-talkie. Trailing after him is a little blue lantern that's surely familiar to most of you by now.]

Yet another inane little gift courtesy of Paradisa. One could almost think it's being friendly. Timing could have been better, though.

[Those of you unfortunate enough to be on the opposite end of his temper tantrum last week might notice that he sounds a little... calmer, today. Still haughty and generally jerktastic, but something must have gone right in the past seven days.

Occasionally he'll speed up or slow down, swivel or twist in random directions, the lantern swinging about to follow him accordingly. It's might be kind of bizarre to watch, actually. Then he stops, abruptly, and the lantern glides to a stop in front of his nose.]

Interesting.

((SO OPEN. Over the journal or in person! HAVE AT.))

Comments

[technohap]

[Henry is standing outside his room watching. Just watching.]

[workaphilic]

[He walks backwards in a circle, his attention completely focused on the lantern. The fact that he looks so intense about it makes it kind of silly.]

[assassino]

[Ezio is going for a walk, dressed all smartly in his Florentine noble clothing, doublet and all. He looks like he just stepped out of the 15thc Italian Renaissance, mostly because that is where he's from.

When he sees Sherlock down the hall and hears his voice, his interest is piqued, however. He recognizes that voice right off the bat. It may be calmer, but it's that same smug douchebaggery he'd heard before.

He approaches, casually.]

[workaphilic]

[Sherlock, on the other hand, seems concerned only with the lantern and nothing else. He dips, it dips; he swings forward, it swings backward. For all that he's aware of his surroundings, the hallway might as well be empty.

He's muttering to himself, now, collecting data on the pages of the journal.]

--maintains a constant radius around me at all times, but seems to have a maximum velocity. If I move too quickly, it needs time to catch up. Mirrors movement almost instantaneously, possible sophisticated motion sensors, interesting what kind of world possesses that kind of technology and uses it for ambient lighting of all things--

[save_the_souls]

[Allen was heading out of the clinic after his shift is over, slinging his bag over his shoulder when he notices this guy in the hallway and pauses]

[...why does he have a bad feeling about this?]

[workaphilic]

[He's resorted to poking at the lantern now, trying to hold it away from him while he walks backwards. It's bumping stubbornly against his hand.

dude's kind of a weirdo, huh?]

[shepherdsveritas]

[There's a man leaning against the wall outside the clinic smoking a cigarette and watching this whole exchange.]

That wasn't quite th'word I was thinkin' of.

[workaphilic]

[Sherlock barely turns his head.]

No? What's your undoubtedly keen conclusion?

dictated;

[amiable]

[ Oh, it's this guy again. He sounds like he's in a better mood this time. ]

What was the gift?

dictated;

[workaphilic]

[Oh, god, this girl again. B(]

Lantern. I was under the impression most residents received one.

[heloise]

[ She peeks through her door at his antics, covering her giggle with a hand. How amusing. ]

Are you teaching it how to dance?

[workaphilic]

Considering it's inanimate? Not likely.

[wow what a debbie downer.]

[confidente]

[ Hear that? It's the sound of typing. I WONDER WHAT JOHN IS TYPING. ]

Gotten into any trouble yet?

[workaphilic]

What are you doing?

[Because the best way to avoid a question is to ignore it entirely, amirite?]

[demontobeloved]

[Have a demon shimmering in front of you right there.

He stretches, and then eyes Sherlock]

And I thought I was going crazy.

[workaphilic]

[Man, take your magic and go away. He's doing science here.]

Still a valid hypothesis. But not the one I'm testing right now.

Written/Action

[bootsweremadeforcasting]

[Jade's just waking up and he opens his door to see...

Well alright that's odd. He watches for a bit, brow raised and his own journal tucked under his arm. He's just going to observe for now.]

[workaphilic]

[The noise of the door opening catches his attention. He twists in place, eyes locked on the lantern as it swings around him.]

Not much to see, I'm afraid. You can quit gawking whenever you like.

[onlyanapple]

[Crowley's just leaning on a wall, watching]

Congratulations, you've finally found something that wants to spend time with you other than John. This must be a very special day for you.

[workaphilic]

Not really.

[His tone is very bland -- he's a little less volatile today. He ducks so that the lantern sails over his head, and it eases slowly to a stop on the other side of him.]

[Action - their hallway

[modernholmes]

[You have no idea how strongly Conan is tempted to kick something at him. Instead he contents himself with speaking up in his most saccharine little kid voice.]

One might almost think that you are being friendly as well.

[workaphilic]

I hope not. An outrageously naive conclusion to come to, given my history.

/takes it all and runs away/

[peacockherald]

_{[Yes, that was an odd site. The lantern not so much, just Sherlock. Vanyel watched him a moment in the door way of his room, his black hair tumbling about his face today, complete with his usual silver streak unhidden.]}

Have you never seen a witch light before?

HEH HEH HEH c:

[workaphilic]

[He doesn't look away from the lantern, but the extra information catches his attention.]

Familiar with it?

[wishmadeinfire]

_{[Because nothing can come easily in this place, or go smoothly, Ashura has opened the door to his apartments to let out his and Felix's pets - two pokemon, a Flareon and an Espeon. They two dart out with excited yips, and promptly skid to halts and bump into Sherlock, somewhat hard given it's two little ten pound bodies hitting his ankels.]}

Oh, apologies. You two, watch where you are going.

[workaphilic]

[He scowls at them. Tiny, noisy distractions.]

Yes, would you? Some of us are busy.

[fishy_go_byebye]

[Del's head drops into his vision as she dangles from a ceiling, hair tumbling down before shortening into blue spikes.]

Throw it.

[workaphilic]

[He smiles vaguely at her by way of greeting.]

That's the next one.