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--

[assassino]

[Ezio moves along the outer edge of the hall as if to pass Sherlock, watching the man's body language. He's sure Sherlock doesn't notice his presence, so it's easy to fall into step beside him and reach to tap him on the shoulder, gently, to get his attention.]

Sherlock?

[workaphilic]

[He swivels automatically towards Ezio, vaguely annoyed at being interrupted.]

Oh, what is it now? I'm busy.

[assassino]

[Ezio just smirks, winding back his arm, and he punches Sherlock in the jaw.

He always had a great right hook.]

[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?]

1/2

[workaphilic]

[He sees the windup, his brain cataloging and crunching data in the span of the few moments he has to be surprised. Always a problem, too much information, has to ignore what's unimportant to focus on what's important, and sometimes things get lost in the shuffle. Like now.

Details slam back into place around him.

Quite literally.

In the face.]

[workaphilic]

[The blow doesn't send him to the ground, but it comes very close. He stumbles and twists himself to the opposite side of the hallway, presses a hand against his jaw, needs a few seconds to realign and reevaluate.

The lantern swoops cheerily after him.

One hell of a right hook. Damn, son.]

[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?

[assassino]

[Ezio stands straight and tall, watching Sherlock reel. He experimentally flexes his fingers out of a fist and then back again, in case the man needs a ringing in his ears.]

Arrogance gets you nowhere in life. Remember that.

/let's try that again

[spiritusaequitas]

Keen. [Murphy snickers, from his spot beside his brother, and snags the pack of cigarettes to bum one]

Just fer that I'm thinkin' I'd wanna call it peachy, 'stead've fuckin' impossible.

[luthored]

[ What did she just witness? Because she's quite openly gawking, book bag nearly forgotten. ]

[workaphilic]

[JUSTICE, LANA. STONE COLD JUSTICE.

He straightens, rolling his jaw under his hand -- damn, hasn't been punched like that in a while -- and the look on his face is a little manic, a little wild. Isn't this just so INTERESTING.]

So -- what? Come to teach me a lesson, have you? Please.

[assassino]

[Ezio turns his eyes from Sherlock to Lana, and a smirk slips over his features momentarily before he turns back to Sherlock.]

It's not a lesson. It's a warning. Take from it what you will.

[save_the_souls]

Um...excuse me, what are you doing?

[luthored]

[ Um, yeah, still staring, because...she's a little floored about who's supposed to be in the wrong here. Give her a second and she'll offer an exasperated demand soon enough.

Wait there it is! ]

What's going on?!

[shepherdsveritas]

Oi! Fuck off! [Connor smacks Murph in his uninjured arm and swipes his pack back. He chuckles, smirking at Sherlock, his own cigarette danging between his lips.]

That 'bout sums it up, yeah.

[workaphilic]

[His gaze snaps to her immediately. He gestures vaguely to himself with his free hand.]

Got punched in the face. Thought that was obvious, really.

[workaphilic]

[The voice is enough to grab his attention. Sherlock's gaze drifts over to him and sticks there, just for a second. Might feel vaguely probing, but then... it was so brief, what could one person get from a quick glance like that?

He smiles vaguely and lets the lantern go. It hovers near his shoulder.]

Experiment. Had a free evening.

[workaphilic]

[Sherlock stares at them both for a few seconds, his expression blank. Aren't you two a piece of work.]

Clever.

Unfortunately, you'll find it's very possible, as it's obviously happening.

[spiritusaequitas]

[Murph swats his brother back, then focuses on Sherlock. that blank look is vaguely familiar - or at least, reminiscent of someone he knows]

Somethin' tells me you might be th' first person here who won't say "magic" when I ask you 'xactly how.