App @ sirenspull
Player Information
Name: Erin
Age: 20
AIM SN: CupidsVictim2020
email: pumpkin_queen130@yahoo.com
Have you played in an LJ based game before? Yes’m. It seems I actually know a few players here from thespiderswalk <3
Bonus: How did you hear about Siren's Pull? From cowboy_newsie
Character Information
General
Canon Source: Sherlock Holmes
Canon Format: Sherlock, the 2010 BBC series set in modern times.
Character's Name: Sherlock Holmes
Character's Age: Never clearly stated, but there is a throwaway reference to him being in adolescence in 1989. Therefore he’s presumably in his mid thirties or so. I’d say between thirty three and thirty five.
What form will your character's NV take? Your average smart phone, one of his most reliable tools.
Abilities
Character's Canon Abilities: Intelligence. Scary, scary intelligence. Sherlock is a master in the art of deductive reasoning. He is able to use the smallest bits of the environment to determine the truth of events around him, usually by reconstructing the events backwards in his head, as well as using a person’s mannerisms to determine what their immediate future actions will be. His mind is always on. Always. He is a skilled chemist, and has extensive knowledge of toxicology, anatomy, biology, geology and its related forensic functions, and criminal history in all corners of the world.
Aside from his startling intellect, Sherlock, in spite of his wiry frame, has a good bit of athleticism in him as well. Lithe and agile, he can hold his own in a fight, having learned several forms of hand to hand combat. He is almost acrobatic in his movements, and it isn’t unheard of him to scale buildings or jump from roof to roof when in pursuit of a criminal.
Because of his penchant for theatrics, Sherlock makes good use of acting and disguises when he’s working. He slips in and out of roles with a seamless fluidity; able to feign tears quite convincingly one moment and be completely dry eyed the next.
Other assorted things he can do include handling guns, though not always as proficiently as possible, and speak several languages including French and German. Also he can play a mean violin, if he feels inclined to play it well.
Conditional: If your character has no superhuman canon abilities, what dormant ability will you give them? Though it will take him some time to discover and control it, Sherlock will gain the ability to phase through solid objects. When it’s dark enough, this doubles as the ability to become a shadow restricted to walls and floors until he returns to his normal form. The latter facet of the power will probably be dormant for a while, as there’s not many accidental ways to realize it. He’ll notice his phasing, however, when his feet get stuck in floors and the like.
I found it fitting for him as he has little regard for locks and what might be private to others, especially if he needs to break past privacy to collect data he needs for his work. It would also allow him to argue technicalities on whether he’s actually broken and entered places when there’s nothing he’s broken. The shadow part of the ability originates in how he is already able to blend in perfectly wherever he sees fit to, also to sneak around. It would take his metaphorical sinking into shadows to a new literal level.
Weapons: A British Army standard issue handgun, specifically a Browning L9A1. Borrowed (without asking, naturally) from one Dr. John Watson.
History/Personality/Plans/etc.
Character History: Info can be found here, but if you need me to elaborate, I’ll be more than happy to.
Point in Canon: He’ll be taken from the end of the first series, where he and John are trapped by Moriarty at the public pool in a Mexican standoff.
Character Personality: With a boastful title like the World’s Greatest Detective, you better expect him to have more than one flimsy flaw. Oh, and that he does. Sherlock can be a perfect gentleman, but only when he feels so inclined, which is usually when he needs data for a case. At this time he can be incredibly devious to get things to go his way, and be oozing with charm. Otherwise, his social skills aren’t the most graceful. In fact, they’re downright deplorable. He speaks whenever and however he sees fit, never sparing the feelings of others nor caring what they think. Insults and sarcasm are his favorites, and he will use them to condescend even the most hapless victim. His work makes him paranoid to a fault, up to the point where he considers his older brother his “archenemy” for attempting to keep tabs on family. His senses of sympathy or empathy are more often than not non-existent. Unsurprisingly, Sherlock doesn’t have many friends because of this, and he doesn’t particularly care. His love, his obsession, and his life are his work.
Anywhere he lives reflects the generally full state of his brain; a cluttered mess of case information, weird science experiments, books, letters and the like. Oddly enough, one can’t quite call it disorganized, as he knows exactly where everything is (most of the time). Potential roommates beware-he will keep body parts in the fridge.
Sherlock can also be quite the recluse, occasionally never leaving home for days-- even weeks-- on end if he has no case to occupy his mind. He loses all sense of those around him in these periods, as well as his sense of time. While most normal behavior already irritates him, he easily becomes livid in these states, and has been known to resort to shooting walls in an attempt to simply not be bored anymore. More than anything in the world, Sherlock detests, hates, utterly loathes being bored. It is such a strong feeling that he is sometimes willing to endanger himself or others to simply put his mind back to work.
That leads to his ego, which is to say, Sherlock is not the most humble man you’ll ever encounter. Though he’ll let police take credit for his brilliance, he is well aware of his genius and its absence in everyone else around him and will voice it whenever he gets the opportunity. Occasionally he’ll be showier than is necessary in order to impress those witnessing his methods of investigation, but fortunately, it doesn’t hinder his skills. Usually, it just annoys others, but again, it hardly stops him. Sherlock loves being correct almost as much as he hates being bored.
When Sherlock is on a case, he is often compared to a bloodhound or a machine. Both are accurate comparisons, as once he enters a crime scene, there is very little that can distract his intense focus. This is what leads him to notice whatever the average person would more than likely miss. As he puts it, he doesn’t just see; he observes.
After all this, one could guess that Sherlock, though he solves crimes, is something of a heartless bastard, and he would let you believe that. However, this is not exactly the case. Sherlock is indeed obsessive and possessed of an addictive personality-both to danger and being proven right. But ever since meeting John, he’s started to realize he can’t do everything on his own, and occasionally help from an actual friend is an invaluable resource. He doesn’t have to be alone in everything anymore.
Character Plans: Sherlock, regardless of the in-game perils involved in doing so, will simply continue his canon services as a neutral consulting detective. Whether the few non-crooked police need his help in actually solving a crime or if it’s a civilian request, he’ll take it under his unique conditions. The most important of them being that the case actually has to be a challenge to solve, or else there’s no fun in it at all and will hardly occupy his mind for a long enough time to ward off the awful threat of boredom.
Appearance/PB: Sadly, this does not include his marvelous voice
Writing Samples
First Person Sample [text]
As far as places I’ve been taken against my will go, I must say, this is one of the more entertaining. The corruption is so evidently obvious in everything here-Someone must have sent me on holiday. Unfortunate and degenerate as it looks, at least here I won’t be waiting for something to happen. These beasts that roam at night are like some twisted metaphor for the state of this place under a rather transparent veil. Already I’ve seen more drug deals than an East End pusher would know what to do with and enough prostitutes to cast extras for a Dickensian play.
Lord, I’ve taken up John’s blogging in his absence, this is dreadful.
Let’s get down to business. These are the words of Sherlock Holmes, the world’s only consulting detective, previously of London, now apparently of Siren’s Port for the time being. If you come across a problem that is unsolvable or crimes that seem to have no perpetrator, I can assure you that it is and there are when the case is put in my hands. The more hopeless, the more bizarre, the better. I do like a challenge. Don’t disappoint me.
-SH
Third Person Sample
The first thing Sherlock Holmes was aware of before he opened his eyes was the distinct smell of sand, clay, and silt. The database of his mind scanned the possibilities of what combined the three things-artificial ball field dirt. The dry sensation in his nostrils was unmistakable. In the seconds it took him to conclude this, a dull throb of pain began to resonate throughout his whole body. His unsettlingly sharp blue eyes snapped open, though they took a moment to focus. When they settled upon the baseball diamond, he couldn’t help but be pleased with himself for being right. He tried to sit up and recall how he’d gotten here, and when he recovered the memory, he bolted up in spite of his pain. It was a move he immediately regretted as the diamond spun around, but that wasn’t important. Moriarty. He and John were in quite the tight spot there, but he had John’s pistol (which he felt in his coat pocket, though the coat was inexplicably on him again), and the bomb-No, he’d never fired. He hadn’t been able to. Instead the feeling of being pulled into a vacuum overtook him and now he was here. Now, where was here? Moriarty meant to kill him. There was no mistaking that look in a criminal’s eyes. His nemesis was not whoever placed him here.
Sherlock’s head recovered a bit and he could see the graffiti all around; an English speaking community then, even if it was crude English. Online gamer slang, that wasn’t colloquial enough to nail down an area. None of the tags were familiar to him. They mentioned “Siren’s Port.” The name of the place, but that didn’t help Sherlock figure out where it was. It was no place he’d heard of. This would be easily remedied. Sherlock patted himself down for his phone, but when he found it, no services were available. A city could hardly be a dead zone. He had to be massively out of range. Though his lack of technology was a nuisance, he hardly despaired. Deduction was possible without it.
The weather was slightly overcast and brisk, but a more humid climate than England. The daytime was a curious factor as well. It was night when he was last aware of London, and it felt like seconds since he’d been there. Was this west of the British Isles? The data he had on hand, insignificant as it was, seemed to point that way. West. That was hardly specific enough for his means. Hardly reliable either, as he could have been unconscious, though his body certainly didn’t feel that way. Like he’d been on the bad end of a brawl, yes, but not the feeling of waking after one passed out. It had been the briefest and bumpiest of blackouts, at best.
The buzz of the city’s daytime activity roused him. It was time for further investigation. In the back of his mind, he was worried about John and what happened after he felt transported. But if he had been, why not John? He could be somewhere else in the city, just as hopelessly confused as-well, no, it was John. He would be even more hopelessly confused than Sherlock. Moriarty could even have been caught up in this phenomenon. Whatever the case, Sherlock was certain he’d find them both. Adrenaline started to pump through his veins as he finally stood on shaky feet. This whole city was about to become his puzzle, his playground. Everything was mystery and danger, and Sherlock Holmes would have it no other way. The game was most definitely on.
Name: Erin
Age: 20
AIM SN: CupidsVictim2020
email: pumpkin_queen130@yahoo.com
Have you played in an LJ based game before? Yes’m. It seems I actually know a few players here from thespiderswalk <3
Bonus: How did you hear about Siren's Pull? From cowboy_newsie
Character Information
General
Canon Source: Sherlock Holmes
Canon Format: Sherlock, the 2010 BBC series set in modern times.
Character's Name: Sherlock Holmes
Character's Age: Never clearly stated, but there is a throwaway reference to him being in adolescence in 1989. Therefore he’s presumably in his mid thirties or so. I’d say between thirty three and thirty five.
What form will your character's NV take? Your average smart phone, one of his most reliable tools.
Abilities
Character's Canon Abilities: Intelligence. Scary, scary intelligence. Sherlock is a master in the art of deductive reasoning. He is able to use the smallest bits of the environment to determine the truth of events around him, usually by reconstructing the events backwards in his head, as well as using a person’s mannerisms to determine what their immediate future actions will be. His mind is always on. Always. He is a skilled chemist, and has extensive knowledge of toxicology, anatomy, biology, geology and its related forensic functions, and criminal history in all corners of the world.
Aside from his startling intellect, Sherlock, in spite of his wiry frame, has a good bit of athleticism in him as well. Lithe and agile, he can hold his own in a fight, having learned several forms of hand to hand combat. He is almost acrobatic in his movements, and it isn’t unheard of him to scale buildings or jump from roof to roof when in pursuit of a criminal.
Because of his penchant for theatrics, Sherlock makes good use of acting and disguises when he’s working. He slips in and out of roles with a seamless fluidity; able to feign tears quite convincingly one moment and be completely dry eyed the next.
Other assorted things he can do include handling guns, though not always as proficiently as possible, and speak several languages including French and German. Also he can play a mean violin, if he feels inclined to play it well.
Conditional: If your character has no superhuman canon abilities, what dormant ability will you give them? Though it will take him some time to discover and control it, Sherlock will gain the ability to phase through solid objects. When it’s dark enough, this doubles as the ability to become a shadow restricted to walls and floors until he returns to his normal form. The latter facet of the power will probably be dormant for a while, as there’s not many accidental ways to realize it. He’ll notice his phasing, however, when his feet get stuck in floors and the like.
I found it fitting for him as he has little regard for locks and what might be private to others, especially if he needs to break past privacy to collect data he needs for his work. It would also allow him to argue technicalities on whether he’s actually broken and entered places when there’s nothing he’s broken. The shadow part of the ability originates in how he is already able to blend in perfectly wherever he sees fit to, also to sneak around. It would take his metaphorical sinking into shadows to a new literal level.
Weapons: A British Army standard issue handgun, specifically a Browning L9A1. Borrowed (without asking, naturally) from one Dr. John Watson.
History/Personality/Plans/etc.
Character History: Info can be found here, but if you need me to elaborate, I’ll be more than happy to.
Point in Canon: He’ll be taken from the end of the first series, where he and John are trapped by Moriarty at the public pool in a Mexican standoff.
Character Personality: With a boastful title like the World’s Greatest Detective, you better expect him to have more than one flimsy flaw. Oh, and that he does. Sherlock can be a perfect gentleman, but only when he feels so inclined, which is usually when he needs data for a case. At this time he can be incredibly devious to get things to go his way, and be oozing with charm. Otherwise, his social skills aren’t the most graceful. In fact, they’re downright deplorable. He speaks whenever and however he sees fit, never sparing the feelings of others nor caring what they think. Insults and sarcasm are his favorites, and he will use them to condescend even the most hapless victim. His work makes him paranoid to a fault, up to the point where he considers his older brother his “archenemy” for attempting to keep tabs on family. His senses of sympathy or empathy are more often than not non-existent. Unsurprisingly, Sherlock doesn’t have many friends because of this, and he doesn’t particularly care. His love, his obsession, and his life are his work.
Anywhere he lives reflects the generally full state of his brain; a cluttered mess of case information, weird science experiments, books, letters and the like. Oddly enough, one can’t quite call it disorganized, as he knows exactly where everything is (most of the time). Potential roommates beware-he will keep body parts in the fridge.
Sherlock can also be quite the recluse, occasionally never leaving home for days-- even weeks-- on end if he has no case to occupy his mind. He loses all sense of those around him in these periods, as well as his sense of time. While most normal behavior already irritates him, he easily becomes livid in these states, and has been known to resort to shooting walls in an attempt to simply not be bored anymore. More than anything in the world, Sherlock detests, hates, utterly loathes being bored. It is such a strong feeling that he is sometimes willing to endanger himself or others to simply put his mind back to work.
That leads to his ego, which is to say, Sherlock is not the most humble man you’ll ever encounter. Though he’ll let police take credit for his brilliance, he is well aware of his genius and its absence in everyone else around him and will voice it whenever he gets the opportunity. Occasionally he’ll be showier than is necessary in order to impress those witnessing his methods of investigation, but fortunately, it doesn’t hinder his skills. Usually, it just annoys others, but again, it hardly stops him. Sherlock loves being correct almost as much as he hates being bored.
When Sherlock is on a case, he is often compared to a bloodhound or a machine. Both are accurate comparisons, as once he enters a crime scene, there is very little that can distract his intense focus. This is what leads him to notice whatever the average person would more than likely miss. As he puts it, he doesn’t just see; he observes.
After all this, one could guess that Sherlock, though he solves crimes, is something of a heartless bastard, and he would let you believe that. However, this is not exactly the case. Sherlock is indeed obsessive and possessed of an addictive personality-both to danger and being proven right. But ever since meeting John, he’s started to realize he can’t do everything on his own, and occasionally help from an actual friend is an invaluable resource. He doesn’t have to be alone in everything anymore.
Character Plans: Sherlock, regardless of the in-game perils involved in doing so, will simply continue his canon services as a neutral consulting detective. Whether the few non-crooked police need his help in actually solving a crime or if it’s a civilian request, he’ll take it under his unique conditions. The most important of them being that the case actually has to be a challenge to solve, or else there’s no fun in it at all and will hardly occupy his mind for a long enough time to ward off the awful threat of boredom.
Appearance/PB: Sadly, this does not include his marvelous voice
Writing Samples
First Person Sample [text]
As far as places I’ve been taken against my will go, I must say, this is one of the more entertaining. The corruption is so evidently obvious in everything here-Someone must have sent me on holiday. Unfortunate and degenerate as it looks, at least here I won’t be waiting for something to happen. These beasts that roam at night are like some twisted metaphor for the state of this place under a rather transparent veil. Already I’ve seen more drug deals than an East End pusher would know what to do with and enough prostitutes to cast extras for a Dickensian play.
Lord, I’ve taken up John’s blogging in his absence, this is dreadful.
Let’s get down to business. These are the words of Sherlock Holmes, the world’s only consulting detective, previously of London, now apparently of Siren’s Port for the time being. If you come across a problem that is unsolvable or crimes that seem to have no perpetrator, I can assure you that it is and there are when the case is put in my hands. The more hopeless, the more bizarre, the better. I do like a challenge. Don’t disappoint me.
-SH
Third Person Sample
The first thing Sherlock Holmes was aware of before he opened his eyes was the distinct smell of sand, clay, and silt. The database of his mind scanned the possibilities of what combined the three things-artificial ball field dirt. The dry sensation in his nostrils was unmistakable. In the seconds it took him to conclude this, a dull throb of pain began to resonate throughout his whole body. His unsettlingly sharp blue eyes snapped open, though they took a moment to focus. When they settled upon the baseball diamond, he couldn’t help but be pleased with himself for being right. He tried to sit up and recall how he’d gotten here, and when he recovered the memory, he bolted up in spite of his pain. It was a move he immediately regretted as the diamond spun around, but that wasn’t important. Moriarty. He and John were in quite the tight spot there, but he had John’s pistol (which he felt in his coat pocket, though the coat was inexplicably on him again), and the bomb-No, he’d never fired. He hadn’t been able to. Instead the feeling of being pulled into a vacuum overtook him and now he was here. Now, where was here? Moriarty meant to kill him. There was no mistaking that look in a criminal’s eyes. His nemesis was not whoever placed him here.
Sherlock’s head recovered a bit and he could see the graffiti all around; an English speaking community then, even if it was crude English. Online gamer slang, that wasn’t colloquial enough to nail down an area. None of the tags were familiar to him. They mentioned “Siren’s Port.” The name of the place, but that didn’t help Sherlock figure out where it was. It was no place he’d heard of. This would be easily remedied. Sherlock patted himself down for his phone, but when he found it, no services were available. A city could hardly be a dead zone. He had to be massively out of range. Though his lack of technology was a nuisance, he hardly despaired. Deduction was possible without it.
The weather was slightly overcast and brisk, but a more humid climate than England. The daytime was a curious factor as well. It was night when he was last aware of London, and it felt like seconds since he’d been there. Was this west of the British Isles? The data he had on hand, insignificant as it was, seemed to point that way. West. That was hardly specific enough for his means. Hardly reliable either, as he could have been unconscious, though his body certainly didn’t feel that way. Like he’d been on the bad end of a brawl, yes, but not the feeling of waking after one passed out. It had been the briefest and bumpiest of blackouts, at best.
The buzz of the city’s daytime activity roused him. It was time for further investigation. In the back of his mind, he was worried about John and what happened after he felt transported. But if he had been, why not John? He could be somewhere else in the city, just as hopelessly confused as-well, no, it was John. He would be even more hopelessly confused than Sherlock. Moriarty could even have been caught up in this phenomenon. Whatever the case, Sherlock was certain he’d find them both. Adrenaline started to pump through his veins as he finally stood on shaky feet. This whole city was about to become his puzzle, his playground. Everything was mystery and danger, and Sherlock Holmes would have it no other way. The game was most definitely on.