Route Application
Player
Name: Loki
Livejournal Username: megazostradon
E-mail: megazostradon@gmail.com
AIM/MSN: AIM: megazostradon
MSN: megazostradon@hotmail.com (hardly used)
Timezone: PST
Current Characters in Route: n/a
Character
Name: Sherlock Holmes
Series: Sherlock (BBC)
Timeline: Directly following The Great Game.
Canon Resource Links: BBC website
Wiki Article
Personality:
Sherlock Holmes is brilliant and unafraid of letting it show. He states what he observes and the inferences he gathers. If forced to explain what he believes should be obvious, his voice often obtains a rather condescending edge. He is impatient, impulsive, and brusque.
Sherlock is “married to his work” and a self-claimed sociopath. His emotional capacity and empathy is not quite up to standard par, and it is quite obvious he cares little (if at all) about how anyone may feel about what he says or does as he goes about his work. If something claims his interest, he is off at a moment’s notice, barreling forward with no regards for obstacles that may appear, be they physical, interpersonal, or legal. The ends justify the means, and he does what he must to indulge his lust for solving puzzles. Sometimes this involves circumventing laws, or employing tactics or aid that the police would not. As such, he has created a network of informants and connections throughout London, all to serve his needs should a moment arise.
With the same fervor he follows cases, he ignores the mundane. His kitchen is overflowing with “experiments”, chemical or biological, making it more of a lab and less of an area safe to make anything fit for human consumption. When without cases or work, he falls into “black moods” where he has done things such as shoot the wall with a pistol in order to alleviate his boredom.
Almost no one has managed to find a place in Sherlock’s world that is more than just a piece in a puzzle, or part a system to get him what he wants or needs; however, though difficult, it is not impossible. When Sherlock states he has “been reliably informed” he has no heart, Moriarty knowingly responds that that is “not quite true”. Shortly afterwards, Sherlock is uncharacteristically visibly agitated after a facedown with Moriarty when John’s life is threatened.
Strengths/Weaknesses:
Sherlock is active and driven when something piques his interest. He is not afraid of getting his hands dirty as he searches for solutions and gathers more data from which he can obtain inferences. He will attack a problem ceaselessly and tirelessly, almost superhumanly going without food or sleep as he obsesses over a mystery.
Unfortunately, this single-minded behavior sometimes catches up with him. He often finds himself in the line of fire as he doggedly pursues his case, and, not actually being superhuman, lack of sleep and food will have a physical toll, albeit one that can be delayed through stimulants and willpower.
He does not “play well with others”. Although Sherlock is capable of being charming when there is something he needs, whether it be access to a balcony, entrance to a morgue, or simply information, he often does not bother tempering his impatient, abrasive personality, or hiding his eccentricities and thus can quite easily frighten/disturb/offend people, sometimes without even meaning to do so.
Pokémon Information
Affiliation: Trainer
Starter: Eevee (if Eevee is not avalible, then Ghastly)
Password: Grape Jelly
Samples
First Person Sample:
[Sherlock fiddles with the settings on his Gear for a moment, bringing his face in and out of focus briefly.] ... Right then.
I’m in a little town. A little, rural town, with a few little houses, and a few little people living their little, mundane, rural lives. The one redeeming feature of this town is its research laboratory. (Research is focused on living things, larger living things, animals of various shapes and sizes.) I have yet to enter it, but it will be my destination after I finish this transmission.
The question is: How did I get here? I was not drugged or physically incapacitated in the recent past. (My body shows no injuries past the healing ones I already catalogued, and any obtainable substance that could have possibly been used to drug me would require an amount that would leave a lingering effect of some sort.) The last thing I recall is aiming at Moriarty’s bomb. What happened between that moment and when I found myself in a strange bed in a little house in a little town? There is no data for me to gather on that.
On another note, a gaseous, purple orb that has taken to following me. It is a living creature, and quite adores making faces, but I cannot touch it-my hand passes right through when I attempted to do so. I’ve started calling the creature “Mortimer” and it has begun to respond to the name. It follows direction, which may prove to be quite useful, as it possesses the ability to move objects through the air, and can pass freely through walls. I have not yet discovered if it moves its gaseous body through the cracks in the woodwork of the walls or travels via different means. As soon as I am able to find an air-tight container, I will test this.
Third Person Sample:
Sherlock leaned down, examining the dusty floor. No footprints, other than the ones they had left when they burst into the room when looking for Molly, and one pair where Molly had been standing by the window. More importantly, no drag marks. Molly hadn’t been dragged into the room. She also hadn’t walked in. The only pair Judging by the dust accumulation, other than them and Molly, no one had touched the floor for at least two years, though he would wager the amount of time was at least twice that. He moved to examine the window next: locked. That had not been it either. The desk was his next stop. Streaks. And a photograph. He peered into the picture frame, and then suddenly stood straight up, “I have it.”
“The mistress here didn’t use ponyta to pull her carriages,” Sherlock’s eyes were alight with excitement. When the other occupants of the room continued to gaze at the detective, nonplussed, he let out an irritated noise. “She used a girafarig,” he stated, as if this one sentence should explain everything.
“And? She also died a hundred years ago,” Greg said, staring at Sherlock, prompting him with his
“Girafarig do not take to carriages like ponyta and rapidash, so she must have been training it extensively. ... Don’t you know what that means? ... No, of course you don’t, you wouldn’t,” he added, shaking his head momentarily as he muttered, “My god, are people in every dimension this vacant? Somewhere there has to be a world filled with people that can actually think.” He rolled his eyes and then continued pressing on, “Do you think that was her only pokémon? It’s all been psychic-type pokémon. A girafarig and an abra or one of its evolved forms if I’m not mistaken.” As he spoke, he walked, his long strides carrying him swiftly across the dusty floor and then back to the window, small puffs of dust rising around his feet as he paced. “Future sight caused the ‘hovering orb’-I told you it was not my Mortimer,” he shot a sour look at Anderson, and then he lifted his hands spreading his fingers suddenly, like fireworks exploding, “Psyschock caused the flash that temporarily blinded everyone as he got away.”
Mortimer hovered behind Sherlock as the consulting detective strode from one end of the room to the other, his eyes closed joyfully, feeding off of Sherlock’s energy and excitement. “It explains why your tyrogue has been so sickly and weak. Psychic energy. It’s everywhere!”
Name: Loki
Livejournal Username: megazostradon
E-mail: megazostradon@gmail.com
AIM/MSN: AIM: megazostradon
MSN: megazostradon@hotmail.com (hardly used)
Timezone: PST
Current Characters in Route: n/a
Character
Name: Sherlock Holmes
Series: Sherlock (BBC)
Timeline: Directly following The Great Game.
Canon Resource Links: BBC website
Wiki Article
Personality:
Sherlock Holmes is brilliant and unafraid of letting it show. He states what he observes and the inferences he gathers. If forced to explain what he believes should be obvious, his voice often obtains a rather condescending edge. He is impatient, impulsive, and brusque.
Sherlock is “married to his work” and a self-claimed sociopath. His emotional capacity and empathy is not quite up to standard par, and it is quite obvious he cares little (if at all) about how anyone may feel about what he says or does as he goes about his work. If something claims his interest, he is off at a moment’s notice, barreling forward with no regards for obstacles that may appear, be they physical, interpersonal, or legal. The ends justify the means, and he does what he must to indulge his lust for solving puzzles. Sometimes this involves circumventing laws, or employing tactics or aid that the police would not. As such, he has created a network of informants and connections throughout London, all to serve his needs should a moment arise.
With the same fervor he follows cases, he ignores the mundane. His kitchen is overflowing with “experiments”, chemical or biological, making it more of a lab and less of an area safe to make anything fit for human consumption. When without cases or work, he falls into “black moods” where he has done things such as shoot the wall with a pistol in order to alleviate his boredom.
Almost no one has managed to find a place in Sherlock’s world that is more than just a piece in a puzzle, or part a system to get him what he wants or needs; however, though difficult, it is not impossible. When Sherlock states he has “been reliably informed” he has no heart, Moriarty knowingly responds that that is “not quite true”. Shortly afterwards, Sherlock is uncharacteristically visibly agitated after a facedown with Moriarty when John’s life is threatened.
Strengths/Weaknesses:
Sherlock is active and driven when something piques his interest. He is not afraid of getting his hands dirty as he searches for solutions and gathers more data from which he can obtain inferences. He will attack a problem ceaselessly and tirelessly, almost superhumanly going without food or sleep as he obsesses over a mystery.
Unfortunately, this single-minded behavior sometimes catches up with him. He often finds himself in the line of fire as he doggedly pursues his case, and, not actually being superhuman, lack of sleep and food will have a physical toll, albeit one that can be delayed through stimulants and willpower.
He does not “play well with others”. Although Sherlock is capable of being charming when there is something he needs, whether it be access to a balcony, entrance to a morgue, or simply information, he often does not bother tempering his impatient, abrasive personality, or hiding his eccentricities and thus can quite easily frighten/disturb/offend people, sometimes without even meaning to do so.
Pokémon Information
Affiliation: Trainer
Starter: Eevee (if Eevee is not avalible, then Ghastly)
Password: Grape Jelly
Samples
First Person Sample:
[Sherlock fiddles with the settings on his Gear for a moment, bringing his face in and out of focus briefly.] ... Right then.
I’m in a little town. A little, rural town, with a few little houses, and a few little people living their little, mundane, rural lives. The one redeeming feature of this town is its research laboratory. (Research is focused on living things, larger living things, animals of various shapes and sizes.) I have yet to enter it, but it will be my destination after I finish this transmission.
The question is: How did I get here? I was not drugged or physically incapacitated in the recent past. (My body shows no injuries past the healing ones I already catalogued, and any obtainable substance that could have possibly been used to drug me would require an amount that would leave a lingering effect of some sort.) The last thing I recall is aiming at Moriarty’s bomb. What happened between that moment and when I found myself in a strange bed in a little house in a little town? There is no data for me to gather on that.
On another note, a gaseous, purple orb that has taken to following me. It is a living creature, and quite adores making faces, but I cannot touch it-my hand passes right through when I attempted to do so. I’ve started calling the creature “Mortimer” and it has begun to respond to the name. It follows direction, which may prove to be quite useful, as it possesses the ability to move objects through the air, and can pass freely through walls. I have not yet discovered if it moves its gaseous body through the cracks in the woodwork of the walls or travels via different means. As soon as I am able to find an air-tight container, I will test this.
Third Person Sample:
Sherlock leaned down, examining the dusty floor. No footprints, other than the ones they had left when they burst into the room when looking for Molly, and one pair where Molly had been standing by the window. More importantly, no drag marks. Molly hadn’t been dragged into the room. She also hadn’t walked in. The only pair Judging by the dust accumulation, other than them and Molly, no one had touched the floor for at least two years, though he would wager the amount of time was at least twice that. He moved to examine the window next: locked. That had not been it either. The desk was his next stop. Streaks. And a photograph. He peered into the picture frame, and then suddenly stood straight up, “I have it.”
“The mistress here didn’t use ponyta to pull her carriages,” Sherlock’s eyes were alight with excitement. When the other occupants of the room continued to gaze at the detective, nonplussed, he let out an irritated noise. “She used a girafarig,” he stated, as if this one sentence should explain everything.
“And? She also died a hundred years ago,” Greg said, staring at Sherlock, prompting him with his
“Girafarig do not take to carriages like ponyta and rapidash, so she must have been training it extensively. ... Don’t you know what that means? ... No, of course you don’t, you wouldn’t,” he added, shaking his head momentarily as he muttered, “My god, are people in every dimension this vacant? Somewhere there has to be a world filled with people that can actually think.” He rolled his eyes and then continued pressing on, “Do you think that was her only pokémon? It’s all been psychic-type pokémon. A girafarig and an abra or one of its evolved forms if I’m not mistaken.” As he spoke, he walked, his long strides carrying him swiftly across the dusty floor and then back to the window, small puffs of dust rising around his feet as he paced. “Future sight caused the ‘hovering orb’-I told you it was not my Mortimer,” he shot a sour look at Anderson, and then he lifted his hands spreading his fingers suddenly, like fireworks exploding, “Psyschock caused the flash that temporarily blinded everyone as he got away.”
Mortimer hovered behind Sherlock as the consulting detective strode from one end of the room to the other, his eyes closed joyfully, feeding off of Sherlock’s energy and excitement. “It explains why your tyrogue has been so sickly and weak. Psychic energy. It’s everywhere!”