a_facility application
OOC Information:
Name: Silent Tristero
Age: 22
AIM: hodudududuh
MSN: easypeasyeasypeasy@gmail.com
Y!M:
E-MAIL: easypeasyeasypeasy@gmail.com
IC Information:
Name: Sherlock Holmes
Fandom: Sherlock BBC
Timeline: Post-The Great Game.
Age: 32
Appearance: Have a picture.
Sherlock stands at about 6 feet/1.5 metres in height. He's thin long-limbed, almost gangly, though surprisingly graceful in spite of this. He's quite pale, sickly looking, which is only exaggerated by his black, curly hair and unusually pale green eyes.
Abilities: Sherlock Holmes solves mysteries, and he's damned good at what he does. His powers of observation and reasoning are impressive, and his knowledge, though not vast in scope, is incredibly detailed where it matters. He absorbs information and processes it with unusual rapidity, which allows him to discern a number of things from the tiniest of details. He can read people with unusual ease, and others are often surprised and unnerved by the seemingly impossible things he can deduce about them based on the tiniest details.
His knowledge is, as aforementioned, very specific. Only those things which he sees as being immediately useful or useful to his work in the long term are stored in his memory. As such, while his knowledge of such subjects as chemistry, anatomy, and forensic pathology is incredibly detailed, there are also areas in which he is astoundingly ignorant. Anything that cannot be related to his work is systematically ignored and often derided.
Sherlock is also astoundingly manipulative and capable of shifting between a number of personalities at the drop of a hat. He's a very good actor, capable even of crying on command, and he has no qualms about using these abilities to get what he wants.
Physically he's not overly strong, though he's certainly more capable in a fight than he looks. His career often takes him dangerous places, and he's learned how to fight around his natural disadvantages. He can be quite quick if the need arises. He's also quite resilient to hardship, both physically and psychologically, and often goes days without food or sleep when he's on cases.
Sherlock can also play the violin, though generally the noises he induces his to make couldn't really be described as playing. He finds that the discordant screeching helps him focus.
Personality: Sherlock Holmes is not an easy man to deal with. Even at the best of times he's often arrogant and cold, intentionally distant from other humans. In the show's canon he describes himself as a high-functioning sociopath, but a number of actions he performs seem to contradict that statement. Regardless, it's a useful diagnosis and one which people are more than ready to believe given his behaviour. He can, at times, even be cruel, though often this is unintentional. He's capable of reading people very well, but he doesn't always understand them.
Under the cold, distant exterior, however, is a modicum of insecurity. Sherlock's relationship with John Watson, the only person he lets close enough to be referred to as a friend, shows his desire for approval and external affirmation. "Genius," he says, "needs an audience," and John is his. Later events prove, however, that Sherlock wants more than an audience - that John genuinely means something to him, that he not only accepts the doctor's company but approves of it, and finds him valuable. This belies an emotional depth that Sherlock generally tries very hard to keep hidden. It calls the diagnosis of sociopath very much into question.
That having been said, however, he's not a man who harbours hidden respect and care for everyone. His affection for John is the exception, not the rule. He's still perfectly capable of being ruthless and manipulative, and without John present to act as his conscience he has no qualms about hurting people, physically or emotionally, to get what he wants.
History: Not much is explicitly stated about Sherlock's early days in canon. We know that he studied at university, probably in chemistry, and it is strongly implied that he had a past drug problem - likely cocaine, drawing on the Arthur Conan Doyle canon. The series begins with his first encounter with Dr. John Watson - the man who was to become his steadfast companion, friend, and flatmate as events unfolded. The two met for the first time through the intervention of a mutual friend, Mike Stamford. The introduction was one of convenience: John couldn't afford a flat in London on his own and Sherlock was looking for a flatmate. The next day saw them meeting at 221B Baker Street. Sherlock had already moved in, and he seemed to assume that John will as well. However, before any of this could be decided, Sherlock received a visitor.
Detective Inspector Lestrade of the Scotland Yard arrived to request Sherlock's assistance with a case - four apparent suicides, all in identical circumstances. Sherlock accepted, but before leaving he asks if John would like to accompany him as an assistant. So began their adventures together.
The resolution of the case saw John shooting a man to save Sherlock's life, despite the fact that they'd first met hardly 48 hours before, and the first appearance of a particular name which would come to mean a great deal to the both of them in the future: Moriarty.
John also decided to move in with Sherlock at this point, and not long afterwards another case came to their attention. Another series of murders, with each victim having been threatened with a mysterious cypher shortly before their deaths. John also got a job at a local surgery and a date with his boss, a lovely redhead named Sarah of whom Sherlock doesn't appear to approve. The conclusion of the case saw John and Sarah kidnapped in a case of mistaken identity. Sherlock rescued the both of them in the nick of time.
Not long after that, in a lull between cases, a suspicious explosion was set off across the street from their flat, and John and Sherlock are drawn into a game orchestrated by a mysterious figure: Moriarty. Sherlock was given a series of puzzles to solve within a set time limit: fail, and people would die. Finally he went to confront Moriarty on his own in an indoor swimming pool, only to find that John had been kidnapped and strapped with explosives just like the other victims.
The series ends during this confrontation; no canon resolution has yet been presented. This character's history assumes both Sherlock and John have survived along with Moriarty.
Roleplay Sample - Log: A corpse lay on the ruffled sheets of a four-poster bed, and to Sherlock Holmes, she was beautiful. Not physically, and not because of the act of killing, which was vaguely abhorrent to him in its impracticality, frequently messy, and wholly unnecessary, and not because of the act of dying, which was so commonplace as to hardly be worth mentioning. No, she was beautiful to Sherlock because spelled out in those sprawled limbs and vacant, staring eyes lay a cipher to be read, a puzzle to be solved, and most importantly an end, however temporary, to stagnation. The boredom that had eaten away at his brain only hours previous was melting away. If he were inclined to believe in magic, he would count this as its purest expression.
Good thing, then, that Sherlock believed exclusively in the quantifiable.
Snapping on a pair of latex gloves - peculiarly insulating but necessary - he strode over to where the body lay, examining the patterns of flesh and cloth, shifting to see it from fresh angles even as his mind sought to follow multiple paths of potentiality. He reeled them in, held them tight, wove together the concrete and discarded stray threads of speculation.
The bedclothes were mussed and there was a very fresh bruise on the corpse's neck: no bite mark - would say clever but likely unintentional, unless... He leaned forward and sniffed at the spot, picking apart the input. Faint perfume - Burberry - cigarette smoke - Benson & Hedges - and... yes, there it was. The sharp, sterile tang of isopropyl alcohol. Something else too, just on the edges, but he can't place it just yet. Amendment: clever indeed. Sherlock's lips curved upwards into the faintest of smiles.
Roleplay Sample - Journal: An as-of-yet-undetermined number of hours have passed since I lost consciousness at the pool. I do not know where I am or how I have come to be here, and I must assume that Moriarty had backup contingencies which I did not anticipate. It is quite likely that he's the one behind this - this is not a hospital of which I've any knowledge, which leads me to the inescapable conclusion that I'm not in London anymore, and furthermore the layout of the room and the equipment within it suggests psychiatric rather than medical. Nonetheless I must not become complacent. I have other enemies too.
Further data are needed before I can come to any usable conclusions as to the nature of this place or how I arrived here. Nonetheless my initial observations and speculations are as follows:
- I am alone. John was with me when I lost consciousness; I do not know where he is now.
- The room in which I have found myself is determinedly unremarkable; any trace of previous inhabitants has been erased.
- My clothes are all present and accounted for, with extra articles besides. My usual toiletries are present, which suggests to me that whoever runs this place has had access to my flat - they know my preferences and are catering to them.
- There are no windows. This is a containment cell, intentionally isolating and disorienting.
This facility, whatever it may be, is designed both for comfort and isolation. It is abundantly clear that I'm intended to stay here for some time.
Name: Silent Tristero
Age: 22
AIM: hodudududuh
MSN: easypeasyeasypeasy@gmail.com
Y!M:
E-MAIL: easypeasyeasypeasy@gmail.com
IC Information:
Name: Sherlock Holmes
Fandom: Sherlock BBC
Timeline: Post-The Great Game.
Age: 32
Appearance: Have a picture.
Sherlock stands at about 6 feet/1.5 metres in height. He's thin long-limbed, almost gangly, though surprisingly graceful in spite of this. He's quite pale, sickly looking, which is only exaggerated by his black, curly hair and unusually pale green eyes.
Abilities: Sherlock Holmes solves mysteries, and he's damned good at what he does. His powers of observation and reasoning are impressive, and his knowledge, though not vast in scope, is incredibly detailed where it matters. He absorbs information and processes it with unusual rapidity, which allows him to discern a number of things from the tiniest of details. He can read people with unusual ease, and others are often surprised and unnerved by the seemingly impossible things he can deduce about them based on the tiniest details.
His knowledge is, as aforementioned, very specific. Only those things which he sees as being immediately useful or useful to his work in the long term are stored in his memory. As such, while his knowledge of such subjects as chemistry, anatomy, and forensic pathology is incredibly detailed, there are also areas in which he is astoundingly ignorant. Anything that cannot be related to his work is systematically ignored and often derided.
Sherlock is also astoundingly manipulative and capable of shifting between a number of personalities at the drop of a hat. He's a very good actor, capable even of crying on command, and he has no qualms about using these abilities to get what he wants.
Physically he's not overly strong, though he's certainly more capable in a fight than he looks. His career often takes him dangerous places, and he's learned how to fight around his natural disadvantages. He can be quite quick if the need arises. He's also quite resilient to hardship, both physically and psychologically, and often goes days without food or sleep when he's on cases.
Sherlock can also play the violin, though generally the noises he induces his to make couldn't really be described as playing. He finds that the discordant screeching helps him focus.
Personality: Sherlock Holmes is not an easy man to deal with. Even at the best of times he's often arrogant and cold, intentionally distant from other humans. In the show's canon he describes himself as a high-functioning sociopath, but a number of actions he performs seem to contradict that statement. Regardless, it's a useful diagnosis and one which people are more than ready to believe given his behaviour. He can, at times, even be cruel, though often this is unintentional. He's capable of reading people very well, but he doesn't always understand them.
Under the cold, distant exterior, however, is a modicum of insecurity. Sherlock's relationship with John Watson, the only person he lets close enough to be referred to as a friend, shows his desire for approval and external affirmation. "Genius," he says, "needs an audience," and John is his. Later events prove, however, that Sherlock wants more than an audience - that John genuinely means something to him, that he not only accepts the doctor's company but approves of it, and finds him valuable. This belies an emotional depth that Sherlock generally tries very hard to keep hidden. It calls the diagnosis of sociopath very much into question.
That having been said, however, he's not a man who harbours hidden respect and care for everyone. His affection for John is the exception, not the rule. He's still perfectly capable of being ruthless and manipulative, and without John present to act as his conscience he has no qualms about hurting people, physically or emotionally, to get what he wants.
History: Not much is explicitly stated about Sherlock's early days in canon. We know that he studied at university, probably in chemistry, and it is strongly implied that he had a past drug problem - likely cocaine, drawing on the Arthur Conan Doyle canon. The series begins with his first encounter with Dr. John Watson - the man who was to become his steadfast companion, friend, and flatmate as events unfolded. The two met for the first time through the intervention of a mutual friend, Mike Stamford. The introduction was one of convenience: John couldn't afford a flat in London on his own and Sherlock was looking for a flatmate. The next day saw them meeting at 221B Baker Street. Sherlock had already moved in, and he seemed to assume that John will as well. However, before any of this could be decided, Sherlock received a visitor.
Detective Inspector Lestrade of the Scotland Yard arrived to request Sherlock's assistance with a case - four apparent suicides, all in identical circumstances. Sherlock accepted, but before leaving he asks if John would like to accompany him as an assistant. So began their adventures together.
The resolution of the case saw John shooting a man to save Sherlock's life, despite the fact that they'd first met hardly 48 hours before, and the first appearance of a particular name which would come to mean a great deal to the both of them in the future: Moriarty.
John also decided to move in with Sherlock at this point, and not long afterwards another case came to their attention. Another series of murders, with each victim having been threatened with a mysterious cypher shortly before their deaths. John also got a job at a local surgery and a date with his boss, a lovely redhead named Sarah of whom Sherlock doesn't appear to approve. The conclusion of the case saw John and Sarah kidnapped in a case of mistaken identity. Sherlock rescued the both of them in the nick of time.
Not long after that, in a lull between cases, a suspicious explosion was set off across the street from their flat, and John and Sherlock are drawn into a game orchestrated by a mysterious figure: Moriarty. Sherlock was given a series of puzzles to solve within a set time limit: fail, and people would die. Finally he went to confront Moriarty on his own in an indoor swimming pool, only to find that John had been kidnapped and strapped with explosives just like the other victims.
The series ends during this confrontation; no canon resolution has yet been presented. This character's history assumes both Sherlock and John have survived along with Moriarty.
Roleplay Sample - Log: A corpse lay on the ruffled sheets of a four-poster bed, and to Sherlock Holmes, she was beautiful. Not physically, and not because of the act of killing, which was vaguely abhorrent to him in its impracticality, frequently messy, and wholly unnecessary, and not because of the act of dying, which was so commonplace as to hardly be worth mentioning. No, she was beautiful to Sherlock because spelled out in those sprawled limbs and vacant, staring eyes lay a cipher to be read, a puzzle to be solved, and most importantly an end, however temporary, to stagnation. The boredom that had eaten away at his brain only hours previous was melting away. If he were inclined to believe in magic, he would count this as its purest expression.
Good thing, then, that Sherlock believed exclusively in the quantifiable.
Snapping on a pair of latex gloves - peculiarly insulating but necessary - he strode over to where the body lay, examining the patterns of flesh and cloth, shifting to see it from fresh angles even as his mind sought to follow multiple paths of potentiality. He reeled them in, held them tight, wove together the concrete and discarded stray threads of speculation.
The bedclothes were mussed and there was a very fresh bruise on the corpse's neck: no bite mark - would say clever but likely unintentional, unless... He leaned forward and sniffed at the spot, picking apart the input. Faint perfume - Burberry - cigarette smoke - Benson & Hedges - and... yes, there it was. The sharp, sterile tang of isopropyl alcohol. Something else too, just on the edges, but he can't place it just yet. Amendment: clever indeed. Sherlock's lips curved upwards into the faintest of smiles.
Roleplay Sample - Journal: An as-of-yet-undetermined number of hours have passed since I lost consciousness at the pool. I do not know where I am or how I have come to be here, and I must assume that Moriarty had backup contingencies which I did not anticipate. It is quite likely that he's the one behind this - this is not a hospital of which I've any knowledge, which leads me to the inescapable conclusion that I'm not in London anymore, and furthermore the layout of the room and the equipment within it suggests psychiatric rather than medical. Nonetheless I must not become complacent. I have other enemies too.
Further data are needed before I can come to any usable conclusions as to the nature of this place or how I arrived here. Nonetheless my initial observations and speculations are as follows:
- I am alone. John was with me when I lost consciousness; I do not know where he is now.
- The room in which I have found myself is determinedly unremarkable; any trace of previous inhabitants has been erased.
- My clothes are all present and accounted for, with extra articles besides. My usual toiletries are present, which suggests to me that whoever runs this place has had access to my flat - they know my preferences and are catering to them.
- There are no windows. This is a containment cell, intentionally isolating and disorienting.
This facility, whatever it may be, is designed both for comfort and isolation. It is abundantly clear that I'm intended to stay here for some time.