The mind is its own place ... Can make a heaven of Hell, a hell of Heaven (OTA, tag Sherlock)

[iamhumanity]

Unmindful of the cold, the creature, nameless, keeping to the edges, had his pockets filled with foodstuffs, as he walked, agile and awkward all at once, he would dig into one and pull out a cracker, a sweet: to have such plenty still startled him. He watched, looked, explored, unmindful of the chill, still with no shoes

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[kilrenko]

Kilrenko, wandering the streets on her own, hears the shuffling, shambling walk as The Creature ducks into hiding and she stops.

Her eyes narrow slightly and she calls out, "Hello?"

[iamhumanity]

There came no answer, as surely, the creature reasoned, the call was not to him.

[kilrenko]

She turns, focusing her attention on her hearing - hoping to hear the person's breathing if nothing else.

"I know there's someone there... you may as well come out."

[iamhumanity]

Nothing good had come of that, not really, in the short life the creature had. He did not move, preternaturally still, poised, if needed, to run or fight.

[i_ambored]

Sherlock doesn't spend a lot of time in the opera house. It serves to distract him sometimes and a place for some of his thoughts but as a manager of the place, he is lacking. Mostly because he doesn't care.

He is currently sitting in one of the chairs in the audience staring at the empty stage as he works through a cold case that he'd found in the archives of the newspaper.

[iamhumanity]

The grandeur of the space compelled the creature forward; he was looking up, around, so he did not see the man in the seats until the crinkle of the wrapper of a cookie he sought in his pocket might have given himself away.

[i_ambored]

Sherlock's head jerked over to the sound and the man. The man that looked like him. If it hadn't been for Anne looking like Irene, he might have thought it was some sort of subliminal mind control.

As it was, he was curious and stood. "It's quite grand."

[iamhumanity]

Turning to see who spoke, hands up in subconscious defense, the creature stopped short at seeing a face he had only seen in passing, when he dared look in a mirror, but unscarred, smooth (though in need of a shave). He cocked his head, asking, "wh-who are y-you? Who m-made you?"

[cantoutstubborn]

Cat happened to glance up from the music store when she saw the Creature walk by. Her smile grew and she quickly crossed the room until she opened the door. "Hi! I see you got the fruit basket. I'm glad you're enjoying it."

[iamhumanity]

"An-and the b-b-book," he said, still, awed, as he was, by her beauty. "'All h-human beings have an in-innate desire to-to o-overc-come suffering and to b-b-be happy."

He did not believe it.

[cantoutstubborn]

"I try to follow the Dalai Lama's philosophy but I don't always make it. I'd hoped that you'd find some comfort in knowing that all of us strive to be better and hopefully some of us will achieve it."

Cat wasn't a Buddhist but she did think that the Dalai Lama made very good points.

[iamhumanity]

"N-not all of you," he said, voice low. No, not all humans sought to be better. "But y-you are a g-good woman," he added. Of that, he was certain.

[faramir_hurin]

There was a man in the street but he disappeared. I would leave it at that except that he had no shoes on. Did he just arrive? I had no shoes and very little else when I arrived in the middle of winter. He must be cold.

"Hello?" I call where I saw him go. "Are you well? My name is Faramir."

Faramir also knew Robert, the creature who was in the village before. Since Kilrenko/Moira recognized him as 'Robert', I request permission to have Faramir recognize him as well.

[iamhumanity]

(ooc: I had no idea, heh! Sure!)

Surely, the comment was not addressed to the creature. He was only used to being treated with derision. Even still here, he did not trust kindness.

He pressed his back to the wall, listening, silent but for his breathing.

[faramir_hurin]

"Hello?" I call again, going after the man. "Did you just arrive here? I had no shoes when I arrived."

He's much too big to be a Hobbit. Perhaps he's someone who doesn't need shoes, like one of the gods. Although a god wouldn't hide from me.

[iamhumanity]

The creature looked down at his bare feet. "Stay b-back," he finally said.

[makemeastone]

River wasn't wearing shoes either.

She had some, somewhere, but she'd taken them off and forgotten them. They would come back eventually. They always seemed to.

She was wearing a large wooly sweater over her dress and knee high tights so it wasn't quite so dire as it might be. If her feet got cold she simply found a perch and curled them up under her.

She was doing just that curled on a bench at the base of a bare winter tree, head cocked just so, listening. She knew someone was coming, someone... different... so she didn't look.

[iamhumanity]

At seeing someone, even someone unmoving, the creature paused too, going still on the balls of his feet, watching, unsure of what to expect: screams? Running in fear? The gathering of a mob?

[makemeastone]

Mobs were bad, one tried to burn her at the stake once.

As if sensing his thoughts she shifted to look at him, that was all she did for a very long moment. He was certainly different, but she saw (or felt) no need to be afraid of him.

"If your feet are cold you can use my sweater."

[iamhumanity]

He looked about, making sure that she was speaking to him. He had never been offered a sweater for his feet, let alone one someone was wearing. "Th-they are n-not," he finally uttered.