[OOC] Application
Character: Sherlock Holmes
Series: Sherlock (2010)
Character Age: 34
Counselor Job: Consulting Detective
Canon:It is the year 2010 and Dr. John Watson is just back from the war, trying to rearrange his life and finding a place to live. With the assistance of an old friend, Watson found himself enraptured with a man named Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective. With Chinese gangs, shadowy conspiracies, and enigmatic cases on their heels, Watson's having the time of his life. The game is on!
Who wants to get involved with Sherlock Holmes? No sane person, from the sound of it. Often described as psychopathic (though he proclaims the correct term is "sociopathic") due to his obsessive need to keep himself occupied and his analytic ability to note every detail with a single glance, Holmes demands attention, often employing technology to get it. With several bad habits such as talking without pause, insulting everyone's intellect, and an incorrigible distaste for the mundane, Sherlock endeavours to make every moment of his life as insightful as he can. So long as he's right about everything.
Sample Post:
CASE FILE - The Cookie Thief
I have been invited by a Miss Elizabeth Sayre to solve a case she considers to be of utmost importance. Why she didn't ask the American police, I can only hazard that they are just as incompetent on the other side of the world. The case looks straight-forward at first glance (or several mulish glances by a Scotland Yard detective). Apparently, Elizabeth Sayre has a monthly habit of bestowing a cookie jar to the children of camp, as a show of kindness or something equally moronic. On August 3rd, Elizabeth Sayre claimed to have left the cookie jar as per normal in the kitchen of the Mess Hall, yet the minute she turned her back, the cookie jar mysteriously vanished. Two days later, the aforementioned jar of cookies reappeared in the same location it was before, untouched save for the complete lack of "sugary goodness". Understandably, she was quite upset about the whole ordeal. "Think of the children," she told me melodramatically and I replied that I rather not think of children ever as I found them a complete and utter waste of time and resources. I believe that's when she started sobbing or something. I stopped paying attention to her theatrics. She suspected another employee on the premise named "Marcy", short for Marcella, who claimed that she hasn't moved from her silo ever since she came and she had a witness to verify that.
Update: I have now perused the entirety of the kitchen as well as taken note of the cookie jar. The kitchen is atypical for a camp this size, with stainless steel equipment and a large window overlooking the silo, which is only fourteen metres away. The cookie jar itself had been wiped clean thoroughly, an action that garners more suspicion than anyone would perceive, because the culprit was meticulous about the handling around the eyes to the point that some of the paint had flaked, revealing the ceramic underneath, which is unusual because the most common area for a cookie jar for that to happen would be the neck and bottom. This suggests that the culprit had a peculiar handicap, the lack of fingers and palm, thus the only way to grip the cookie jar would be for a tendril to curl itself around a particular location, namely a ring around the eyes. However, judging by the length of Marcy's appendages, from the distance where it dangles from her window, it is not sufficiently elongated to reach the kitchen window. So how did Marcy get to the cookie jar? It was really quite elementary, to the point I could not understand why Elizabeth Sayre hadn't worked it out herself. How embarrassing must it be to live like her, I can't even begin to imagine. No, on second thought, I can, but I'd rather not.
Checking the grounds right outside the kitchen window, I have discovered that there is a certain specimen of tree species growing exactly in the midway point of the kitchen and Marcy's silo. Specifically, a type of Ficus Elastica, also known as Indian rubber bush native of course, to India and southern Indonesia. With the permission of Elizabeth Sayre, I have examined the shipping records and found that Marcy had placed an order for the seeds, claiming them to be a delicacy. The camp environment did the rest for her. I took a sampling of a cookie and waved it in front of the Ficus Elastica and it turned out that it had been conditioned to "cookie" scent through its vines. It grabbed the sample from my hand and tossed it into Marcy's open window. Marcy had an accomplice, her alibi is worthless. Elementary and yet highly unsatisfying that I came here to deal with a matter so trivial, but I believe there is more here that meets the naked eye, even with that hare-brained Elizabeth Sayre.
At any rate, I should inform her the case is closed. Now, to text or to tweet, that is the question.
Voting went here (43.1%) and then finally here (75.9%)
Series: Sherlock (2010)
Character Age: 34
Counselor Job: Consulting Detective
Canon:It is the year 2010 and Dr. John Watson is just back from the war, trying to rearrange his life and finding a place to live. With the assistance of an old friend, Watson found himself enraptured with a man named Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective. With Chinese gangs, shadowy conspiracies, and enigmatic cases on their heels, Watson's having the time of his life. The game is on!
Who wants to get involved with Sherlock Holmes? No sane person, from the sound of it. Often described as psychopathic (though he proclaims the correct term is "sociopathic") due to his obsessive need to keep himself occupied and his analytic ability to note every detail with a single glance, Holmes demands attention, often employing technology to get it. With several bad habits such as talking without pause, insulting everyone's intellect, and an incorrigible distaste for the mundane, Sherlock endeavours to make every moment of his life as insightful as he can. So long as he's right about everything.
Sample Post:
CASE FILE - The Cookie Thief
I have been invited by a Miss Elizabeth Sayre to solve a case she considers to be of utmost importance. Why she didn't ask the American police, I can only hazard that they are just as incompetent on the other side of the world. The case looks straight-forward at first glance (or several mulish glances by a Scotland Yard detective). Apparently, Elizabeth Sayre has a monthly habit of bestowing a cookie jar to the children of camp, as a show of kindness or something equally moronic. On August 3rd, Elizabeth Sayre claimed to have left the cookie jar as per normal in the kitchen of the Mess Hall, yet the minute she turned her back, the cookie jar mysteriously vanished. Two days later, the aforementioned jar of cookies reappeared in the same location it was before, untouched save for the complete lack of "sugary goodness". Understandably, she was quite upset about the whole ordeal. "Think of the children," she told me melodramatically and I replied that I rather not think of children ever as I found them a complete and utter waste of time and resources. I believe that's when she started sobbing or something. I stopped paying attention to her theatrics. She suspected another employee on the premise named "Marcy", short for Marcella, who claimed that she hasn't moved from her silo ever since she came and she had a witness to verify that.
Update: I have now perused the entirety of the kitchen as well as taken note of the cookie jar. The kitchen is atypical for a camp this size, with stainless steel equipment and a large window overlooking the silo, which is only fourteen metres away. The cookie jar itself had been wiped clean thoroughly, an action that garners more suspicion than anyone would perceive, because the culprit was meticulous about the handling around the eyes to the point that some of the paint had flaked, revealing the ceramic underneath, which is unusual because the most common area for a cookie jar for that to happen would be the neck and bottom. This suggests that the culprit had a peculiar handicap, the lack of fingers and palm, thus the only way to grip the cookie jar would be for a tendril to curl itself around a particular location, namely a ring around the eyes. However, judging by the length of Marcy's appendages, from the distance where it dangles from her window, it is not sufficiently elongated to reach the kitchen window. So how did Marcy get to the cookie jar? It was really quite elementary, to the point I could not understand why Elizabeth Sayre hadn't worked it out herself. How embarrassing must it be to live like her, I can't even begin to imagine. No, on second thought, I can, but I'd rather not.
Checking the grounds right outside the kitchen window, I have discovered that there is a certain specimen of tree species growing exactly in the midway point of the kitchen and Marcy's silo. Specifically, a type of Ficus Elastica, also known as Indian rubber bush native of course, to India and southern Indonesia. With the permission of Elizabeth Sayre, I have examined the shipping records and found that Marcy had placed an order for the seeds, claiming them to be a delicacy. The camp environment did the rest for her. I took a sampling of a cookie and waved it in front of the Ficus Elastica and it turned out that it had been conditioned to "cookie" scent through its vines. It grabbed the sample from my hand and tossed it into Marcy's open window. Marcy had an accomplice, her alibi is worthless. Elementary and yet highly unsatisfying that I came here to deal with a matter so trivial, but I believe there is more here that meets the naked eye, even with that hare-brained Elizabeth Sayre.
At any rate, I should inform her the case is closed. Now, to text or to tweet, that is the question.
Voting went here (43.1%) and then finally here (75.9%)