[M:0]
Post by Sherlock Holmes on Apr 1, 2012 14:41:01 GMT
Any Canons are open to reply to this in character as if they have stumbled across it and then read it, leaving a note.
Canon/OC
Name: Sherlock Holmes
Age: 35
Job/Occupation: Consulting detective and only one. I invented it.
Appearance: My appearance is unimportant and shouldn’t be made aware to the criminal world, but Moriarty has probably told everyone already and it would annoy Mycroft, so I might as well tell you. John says that I enjoy being ‘all mysterious with my cheekbones and turning my coat collar up so I look cool’. Of course, John is being melodramatic. I can’t help my ‘cheekbones’ and turning the coat collar up is simply a good way to keep the wind off the neck. And I have no idea why I would look ‘all mysterious’. Like my brother (The British Government, Secret service, CIA and probably more) I have long facial features and dark hair. Unlike my brother, I have all my hair and do not bother with trivial things like getting it cut. Which is pointless.
Other than that, there isn’t much about my appearance. I have light blue eyes, and I almost always wear my coat. And recently people have been associating an ear hat with me. John calls it a deer stalker and stupid people seem to think that I chose the hat because I liked it. I simply needed to keep my face from the public. Seeing as stupid people think that I chose the hat, that means everyone.
Personality: I am a show off and a sociopath. Although others, such as Sargent Donovan and Anderson (Who are some of the more stupid on the police force, which is a great achievement) consider me to be a psychopath. My brain rots without cases to solve. Like a rocket out of control, burning up in the earth’s atmosphere. Apparently I can be very uncooperative at times and annoying as well.
History: Apparently this needs to be true and unbiased. Otherwise I would have the government on my doorstep asking why I’ve been lying when I have been telling the truth. So just to prove that I am telling the truth, I enclose my diary.
Mycroft said yes to play pirates with me! He read me Treasure Island when I was sick long time ago but refused to play it with me for ages! I was pirate king and Mycroft was the Brtis… Britis Empir. Mycroft got dressed up and made me see what rich people look like and be like. He said that I could tell people from many things. I put that in my head and then won pirates. But he got me tied up and all my gold.
As you can plainly see, my brother was trying to influence me towards a route of crime, which thankfully I avoided. You can also see that my brother has had a long connection with controlling everything. We were lucky that he didn’t try to play Queen Victoria. Although if he had, he would never had heard the end of it. Either way, that was my first diary entry at the age of four.
Day Croft told me of Privert ears. I don’t know how to tell it. Mycroft will no. Privateer. P r i v a t e e r. Privateer. He says that they are pirates that steal for the queen. He says that it would be better than pirate as you don’t get hung. We made it be and we were together. We got Blackbeard’s treasure. Croft gave it all to me. He said I made it appear. Then he gave me a load of gold coins. They had chocolate in them. Mycroft is the best brother.
As you can plainly see, Mycroft had a manipulating personality as at the age of twelve he was already attempting to control me with chocolate. He would say that it worked, but I was only secretly going along with that. Also, you can plainly see that he is still trying to get me into crime. Again, I avoided his attempt to get me doing illegal activities legally. Pickpocketing certain annoying people and breaking into houses to solve crimes is completely legal. Even if Mycroft says otherwise.
Today I went to school. It was fun and they made me know how to write better. The teachers are nice and tell me Croft was the best. The other kids are dul. They do silly games. They don’t want to be pirates. They also don’t see. But good was Mycroft at lunch. He brought me the food and we ate on the bench. He was not with the boys his own age. They made football games in big school. Croft came all the way to see me. ME. Then we sat and saw people. We saw their stories. Deduced their stories, Sherlock. Croft just wrote that. He said that is what we did. Mycroft is good at deduced. He saw loads and told me. I want to be as good as Mycroft.
Clearly Mycroft was attempting to sabotage my diary, by writing in it, as he had done earlier. His want to control everything extended even to my diary, so one cannot trust what is written there. For all we know, Mycroft could have impersonated my handwriting. He certainly did in the last section.
Daddy and Mummy are on a long trip. Mycroft says they won’t be back until next week. They are in Spain. Mycroft tells me that Spain has a similar language to Italy and they come from the Romance, which is Latin. Latin is dead. Croft says those in Spain have tanned skin and dark hair as it helps them cope in the heat. Croft is making all the food and he takes me to the library to choose new books! Then he reads them to me. He also helps me with homework. And then we made deductions of other people. I’m getting like Mycroft.[/size]
So as you can see, Mycroft clearly played mother all the time. That was how dreadful life was. And I am clearly was writing to make Mycroft believe that I was still fooled. I was only seven.
Today was my birthday. I’m now eight. I got the best present ever. A growing crystals set with real chemicals! Such as monoalumiumprosphate. It says you have to be over ten to use it. Croft says I’m old enough to use it. But he wants to help me at first.[/size]
Okay, I will admit that that was the only good present I’ve received. But that isn’t much of a competition.
The other children at school hate me. They keep on attacking me with words and violence. I’ve asked Mother to put in in for different training in combat. Croft stops some of the more obvious attacks. They listen to him. They respect him. But others sneak by. He knows and is looking for them. But he’s only one person. I will learn how to defend myself and then I won’t come home with cuts. Croft also is trying to find me friends. They are all stupid. I only need Mycroft.[/size]
Still, we can see Mycroft’s attempts to control everything around him. Even my friends. But I beat him at that, making him think that I just needed him when I need no one.
Croft left. He’s at university. We visited once. I don’t think he likes me anymore. He only called once in the last month. He spoke to mother and complained about the rain. I wasn’t eavesdropping on the conversation. I do not miss him.
Ignore those stains, I was working with a chemistry set, making different solutions of salt solutions in an attempt to separate the Sodium from the chloride and make the alkali Sodium hydroxide.
Mother has forbid me from leaving the house apart from to go to school. Today I snuck out to bring Mycroft his present. An umbrella. He had been complaining about the rain in his last phone call, which was ages ago. I brought it with my lunch money. I hadn’t been eating lunch for weeks. I had enough money to take a train there and back. Croft wasn’t at his room at first. He was with friends.
This is clearly showing how boring life was. That I wanted to see Mycroft. I was just eleven; everyone was stupid at that point.
This is the last time that I will be recording my notes. I have decided that it is below me. I was too childish and the contents of this diary should be destroyed. I have given up childish ideas in pursuit of the career that I shall create. I shall be the first and only Consulting Detective.
-Sherlock Holmes, 11 years, 10 months and 14 days old. [/size]
Clearly, now I was free from Mycroft’s long reach, I was developing my own personality, free from trying to trick my brother into thinking that he could control me. I went on to study Citizenship, triple science, Geography and a double language for my options in GCSE (I did dreadfully in the pointless subjects, according to mother) before narrowing it down to Chemistry, Biology and Forensics, this being more A Levels than anyone else, and I passed with full marks. However, due to my GCSE results I did not go to University. Instead, I started my career.
Initially, it proved to be slow work. I managed to get enough money to have a small science lab in my flat. I also managed to buy enough tobacco to recognise 243 different types, based on taste, smell, texture and colour. Unfortunately, these experiments did not help with acquiring clients as apparently the usage of tobacco and cigarettes as bad for my brain. Still, I still had a lack of clients and I started to study the effects of certain biological compounds, which did not please others. Eventually I did find a crime where I could help. A man called Lestrade was there and he was completely hopeless and willing to let me help. I finished it in no time and he offered to help me get more cases.
Frequently, I would be brought cases from the Yard to solve and it wasn’t long before Lestrade decided to shout at me about by experiments with biological compounds in a solution. Apparently it didn’t matter if I was bored, and if I didn’t stop, I would not be given any cases. Annoyingly, he kept checking, even during cases and as of such, I have been forced to stop with my old habits. I am sure that I stole the report from Lestrade before Mycroft had the chance to read it, and to prove once again that I am not being biased, I have enclosed it here.
It wasn’t long before the Landlord kicked me out of that flat. I briefly took a break in America, where I helped Mrs Hudson, who then offered to help me find a new place to live, with a lower rent. Unfortunately, I could not afford the rent by myself and later I spoke to Stampford about it, while I was living on the streets. As you can see, no help from Mycroft. (P.S. I was not avoiding the security cameras). Anyway, I spent most of my time in the morgue or Science Lab, which the pathologist, Molly, allowed me to do. It was during this time, that Stampford introduced me to John Watson, a former army doctor who had fought in Afghanistan. He decided to share the rent with me, and helped with the serial suicides. John also started a blog about me. For some strange reason everyone looks at that, even though it is not as good as my site.
Life was mostly boring; John got a girlfriend and almost ended up getting her and himself killed. Look on his blog if you want the whole thing. No one wants my opinion. It was then that the Consulting Criminal made himself known, in the disguise of a gay going out with Molly. Apparently it was rude to tell her that he was gay. Either way, it turned out that he was a criminal who helped others plan crimes and wanted to kill me and John. Someone then changed his mind, and I have my suspicions about who it was. Then, the British Government, meaning my brother, wanted me to get some pictures back from a woman called Irene Adler. I of course did return these pictures to my brother, slightly annoying him in the process by almost toppling the plans he had been making and proved that she was too carried away with the game. John thinks that I might have as well, I believe. Then there were a few more cases until I had to die. Moriarty wanted me dead and it was that or he would kill my friends, John, Lestrade and Mrs Hudson. I died and evidentially survived. After nearly eighteen months, I revealed myself and proved my innocence.
Anything else: Don’t believe Mycroft, he is[/b] the British Government.
RP Sample: This seems pointless. But I’ve been told that it’s non-optional so:
Dull! There was nothing happen. No interesting criminals running about London. Where were they? One would think that within the capital of Britain one could find some decent case to solve. But it appeared that was not the case. Sherlock sat at his computer, fingers tapping the wooden table impatiently as he stared at the grey and blue themes site that would hopefully pop up with a new and interesting email. Hitting the refresh button in one quick movement, his blue eyes flickered over the whole page, taking in the fact that there was no change after it had reloaded. Why did so few people contact him.
Giving a dramatic sigh, Sherlock got up, and walked over to his violin, looking over at the instrument, wondering if he could relieve the boredom by playing that. "Any news on your blog about something new and preferably interesting?" Sherlock asked John. The reply seemed to be a 'no', although he wasn't certain? Was John out? It didn't really matter. The answer would probably be no so he'd leave it at that. Picking up the violin, the world's only Consulting Detective plucked at the strings, mindlessly, leaving the bow for now.
After a few seconds, he picked up the bow and played a few tunes. Nope, still bored. Placing the instrument gently back in its case and closing it, Sherlock moved over to the sofa and collapsed onto it, stretching out on the piece of furniture. If someone didn't come along soon and offer him a case he was going to go find John's gun, which was locked up in a draw in John's room and get another smiley face on the wall. Or maybe a sad face. At least that would be something to do. Tapping his fingers restlessly, Sherlock got up, once again, and walked over to the computer to check his emails. Apparently John was visiting his sister and this email was to notify him as he probably hadn't been paying attention when John had left. But no cases. Boring.
_____________________________________________________________
Canon
Name: Sherlock Holmes
Age: 35
Job/Occupation: Consulting detective and only one. I invented it.
Appearance: My appearance is unimportant and shouldn’t be made aware to the criminal world, but Moriarty has probably told everyone already and it would annoy Mycroft, so I might as well tell you. John says that I enjoy being ‘all mysterious with my cheekbones and turning my coat collar up so I look cool’. Of course, John is being melodramatic. I can’t help my ‘cheekbones’ and turning the coat collar up is simply a good way to keep the wind off the neck. And I have no idea why I would look ‘all mysterious’. Like my brother (The British Government, Secret service, CIA and probably more) I have long facial features and dark hair. Unlike my brother, I have all my hair and do not bother with trivial things like getting it cut. Which is pointless.
Other than that, there isn’t much about my appearance. I have light blue eyes, and I almost always wear my coat. And recently people have been associating an ear hat with me. John calls it a deer stalker and stupid people seem to think that I chose the hat because I liked it. I simply needed to keep my face from the public. Seeing as stupid people think that I chose the hat, that means everyone.
Personality: I am a show off and a sociopath. Although others, such as Sargent Donovan and Anderson (Who are some of the more stupid on the police force, which is a great achievement) consider me to be a psychopath. My brain rots without cases to solve. Like a rocket out of control, burning up in the earth’s atmosphere. Apparently I can be very uncooperative at times and annoying as well.
History: Apparently this needs to be true and unbiased. Otherwise I would have the government on my doorstep asking why I’ve been lying when I have been telling the truth. So just to prove that I am telling the truth, I enclose my diary.
Mycroft said yes to play pirates with me! He read me Treasure Island when I was sick long time ago but refused to play it with me for ages! I was pirate king and Mycroft was the Brtis… Britis Empir. Mycroft got dressed up and made me see what rich people look like and be like. He said that I could tell people from many things. I put that in my head and then won pirates. But he got me tied up and all my gold.
As you can plainly see, my brother was trying to influence me towards a route of crime, which thankfully I avoided. You can also see that my brother has had a long connection with controlling everything. We were lucky that he didn’t try to play Queen Victoria. Although if he had, he would never had heard the end of it. Either way, that was my first diary entry at the age of four.
Day Croft told me of Privert ears. I don’t know how to tell it. Mycroft will no. Privateer. P r i v a t e e r. Privateer. He says that they are pirates that steal for the queen. He says that it would be better than pirate as you don’t get hung. We made it be and we were together. We got Blackbeard’s treasure. Croft gave it all to me. He said I made it appear. Then he gave me a load of gold coins. They had chocolate in them. Mycroft is the best brother.
As you can plainly see, Mycroft had a manipulating personality as at the age of twelve he was already attempting to control me with chocolate. He would say that it worked, but I was only secretly going along with that. Also, you can plainly see that he is still trying to get me into crime. Again, I avoided his attempt to get me doing illegal activities legally. Pickpocketing certain annoying people and breaking into houses to solve crimes is completely legal. Even if Mycroft says otherwise.
Today I went to school. It was fun and they made me know how to write better. The teachers are nice and tell me Croft was the best. The other kids are dul. They do silly games. They don’t want to be pirates. They also don’t see. But good was Mycroft at lunch. He brought me the food and we ate on the bench. He was not with the boys his own age. They made football games in big school. Croft came all the way to see me. ME. Then we sat and saw people. We saw their stories. Deduced their stories, Sherlock. Croft just wrote that. He said that is what we did. Mycroft is good at deduced. He saw loads and told me. I want to be as good as Mycroft.
Clearly Mycroft was attempting to sabotage my diary, by writing in it, as he had done earlier. His want to control everything extended even to my diary, so one cannot trust what is written there. For all we know, Mycroft could have impersonated my handwriting. He certainly did in the last section.
Daddy and Mummy are on a long trip. Mycroft says they won’t be back until next week. They are in Spain. Mycroft tells me that Spain has a similar language to Italy and they come from the Romance, which is Latin. Latin is dead. Croft says those in Spain have tanned skin and dark hair as it helps them cope in the heat. Croft is making all the food and he takes me to the library to choose new books! Then he reads them to me. He also helps me with homework. And then we made deductions of other people. I’m getting like Mycroft.[/size]
So as you can see, Mycroft clearly played mother all the time. That was how dreadful life was. And I am clearly was writing to make Mycroft believe that I was still fooled. I was only seven.
Today was my birthday. I’m now eight. I got the best present ever. A growing crystals set with real chemicals! Such as monoalumiumprosphate. It says you have to be over ten to use it. Croft says I’m old enough to use it. But he wants to help me at first.[/size]
Okay, I will admit that that was the only good present I’ve received. But that isn’t much of a competition.
The other children at school hate me. They keep on attacking me with words and violence. I’ve asked Mother to put in in for different training in combat. Croft stops some of the more obvious attacks. They listen to him. They respect him. But others sneak by. He knows and is looking for them. But he’s only one person. I will learn how to defend myself and then I won’t come home with cuts. Croft also is trying to find me friends. They are all stupid. I only need Mycroft.[/size]
Still, we can see Mycroft’s attempts to control everything around him. Even my friends. But I beat him at that, making him think that I just needed him when I need no one.
Croft left. He’s at university. We visited once. I don’t think he likes me anymore. He only called once in the last month. He spoke to mother and complained about the rain. I wasn’t eavesdropping on the conversation. I do not miss him.
Ignore those stains, I was working with a chemistry set, making different solutions of salt solutions in an attempt to separate the Sodium from the chloride and make the alkali Sodium hydroxide.
Mother has forbid me from leaving the house apart from to go to school. Today I snuck out to bring Mycroft his present. An umbrella. He had been complaining about the rain in his last phone call, which was ages ago. I brought it with my lunch money. I hadn’t been eating lunch for weeks. I had enough money to take a train there and back. Croft wasn’t at his room at first. He was with friends.
This is clearly showing how boring life was. That I wanted to see Mycroft. I was just eleven; everyone was stupid at that point.
This is the last time that I will be recording my notes. I have decided that it is below me. I was too childish and the contents of this diary should be destroyed. I have given up childish ideas in pursuit of the career that I shall create. I shall be the first and only Consulting Detective.
-Sherlock Holmes, 11 years, 10 months and 14 days old. [/size]
Clearly, now I was free from Mycroft’s long reach, I was developing my own personality, free from trying to trick my brother into thinking that he could control me. I went on to study Citizenship, triple science, Geography and a double language for my options in GCSE (I did dreadfully in the pointless subjects, according to mother) before narrowing it down to Chemistry, Biology and Forensics, this being more A Levels than anyone else, and I passed with full marks. However, due to my GCSE results I did not go to University. Instead, I started my career.
Initially, it proved to be slow work. I managed to get enough money to have a small science lab in my flat. I also managed to buy enough tobacco to recognise 243 different types, based on taste, smell, texture and colour. Unfortunately, these experiments did not help with acquiring clients as apparently the usage of tobacco and cigarettes as bad for my brain. Still, I still had a lack of clients and I started to study the effects of certain biological compounds, which did not please others. Eventually I did find a crime where I could help. A man called Lestrade was there and he was completely hopeless and willing to let me help. I finished it in no time and he offered to help me get more cases.
Frequently, I would be brought cases from the Yard to solve and it wasn’t long before Lestrade decided to shout at me about by experiments with biological compounds in a solution. Apparently it didn’t matter if I was bored, and if I didn’t stop, I would not be given any cases. Annoyingly, he kept checking, even during cases and as of such, I have been forced to stop with my old habits. I am sure that I stole the report from Lestrade before Mycroft had the chance to read it, and to prove once again that I am not being biased, I have enclosed it here.
Police Report
Date: 29 June 2005
Attending Officer: DI Gregory Lestrade
As I have mentioned in previous reports, the police have become more reliant on a Private Investigator, Sherlock Holmes. Earlier today at 9:37am, we received a message that someone had threatened the local library and we were not sure if it was targeted towards one person or just the building. With the lack of evidence, we were forced to admit defeat and at 1:53pm we went to consult with Mr Holmes. When he arrived at his flat, he was lying on the sofa, his eyes wide and unresponsive. There were signs of a needle having been used on his arms. I sent the rest of the police force away and waited for Mr Holmes to come around. At 2pm Mr Holmes became aware of my presence and in fifteen minutes he was aware of the situation. At this point, be began to shout, asking why I had broken into his flat. I attempted to reason with Mr Holmes, but he seemed prepared to use violence. It was at this point that I had to threaten to stop letting him on any cases. Unfortunately, due to his loud rant I was forced to raise my voice. Sherlock reluctantly agreed and we have reached the agreement that I will be allowed to search his flat for as long as I see fit.
It wasn’t long before the Landlord kicked me out of that flat. I briefly took a break in America, where I helped Mrs Hudson, who then offered to help me find a new place to live, with a lower rent. Unfortunately, I could not afford the rent by myself and later I spoke to Stampford about it, while I was living on the streets. As you can see, no help from Mycroft. (P.S. I was not avoiding the security cameras). Anyway, I spent most of my time in the morgue or Science Lab, which the pathologist, Molly, allowed me to do. It was during this time, that Stampford introduced me to John Watson, a former army doctor who had fought in Afghanistan. He decided to share the rent with me, and helped with the serial suicides. John also started a blog about me. For some strange reason everyone looks at that, even though it is not as good as my site.
Life was mostly boring; John got a girlfriend and almost ended up getting her and himself killed. Look on his blog if you want the whole thing. No one wants my opinion. It was then that the Consulting Criminal made himself known, in the disguise of a gay going out with Molly. Apparently it was rude to tell her that he was gay. Either way, it turned out that he was a criminal who helped others plan crimes and wanted to kill me and John. Someone then changed his mind, and I have my suspicions about who it was. Then, the British Government, meaning my brother, wanted me to get some pictures back from a woman called Irene Adler. I of course did return these pictures to my brother, slightly annoying him in the process by almost toppling the plans he had been making and proved that she was too carried away with the game. John thinks that I might have as well, I believe. Then there were a few more cases until I had to die. Moriarty wanted me dead and it was that or he would kill my friends, John, Lestrade and Mrs Hudson. I died and evidentially survived. After nearly eighteen months, I revealed myself and proved my innocence.
Anything else: Don’t believe Mycroft, he is[/b] the British Government.
RP Sample: This seems pointless. But I’ve been told that it’s non-optional so:
Dull! There was nothing happen. No interesting criminals running about London. Where were they? One would think that within the capital of Britain one could find some decent case to solve. But it appeared that was not the case. Sherlock sat at his computer, fingers tapping the wooden table impatiently as he stared at the grey and blue themes site that would hopefully pop up with a new and interesting email. Hitting the refresh button in one quick movement, his blue eyes flickered over the whole page, taking in the fact that there was no change after it had reloaded. Why did so few people contact him.
Giving a dramatic sigh, Sherlock got up, and walked over to his violin, looking over at the instrument, wondering if he could relieve the boredom by playing that. "Any news on your blog about something new and preferably interesting?" Sherlock asked John. The reply seemed to be a 'no', although he wasn't certain? Was John out? It didn't really matter. The answer would probably be no so he'd leave it at that. Picking up the violin, the world's only Consulting Detective plucked at the strings, mindlessly, leaving the bow for now.
After a few seconds, he picked up the bow and played a few tunes. Nope, still bored. Placing the instrument gently back in its case and closing it, Sherlock moved over to the sofa and collapsed onto it, stretching out on the piece of furniture. If someone didn't come along soon and offer him a case he was going to go find John's gun, which was locked up in a draw in John's room and get another smiley face on the wall. Or maybe a sad face. At least that would be something to do. Tapping his fingers restlessly, Sherlock got up, once again, and walked over to the computer to check his emails. Apparently John was visiting his sister and this email was to notify him as he probably hadn't been paying attention when John had left. But no cases. Boring.
[M:0]
