Application: Sherlock Holmes - The Works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
(ooc: I cannot BELIEVE no one has tried this before me. Perhaps, because it is such a daunting task . . . ah, well, I'll give it my best shot as someone already claimed Turlough I have no choice.) ( This seems like a good distraction from the monotony of life . . . )
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A lanky man with a similarly sharp nose leaned easily against the wall, scanning the application. His brows shot up at one response and he gave an amused snort. "Impossible to return from the dead? Oh I think you're going to like it here." He spoke in a slightly vague British accent that was difficult to place. "This school tends to mess with one's preconceptions. Better to leave them behind, it's easier," he advised.
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The detective eyed the similarly dark haired man before him and with an air of undisguised smug authority he replied:
"All we have are our preconceptions of how the world works. You cannot assume that I should logically come to the conclusion of the existence of life after death when, with my experience in murders of all kinds, I have never witnessed it. However, I look forward immensely to modifying my views in the subject if what you say is indeed true. Oh, I've forgotten my manners in all this talk. Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective" a veiny hand extended in greeting "and you are?"
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Out of nowhere, a house elf appeared with a 'pop'. It flapped over to Methos and presented him with a beer. He grinned at the elf, "Ah, right on time. Thank you." The elf shot him an odd look before it disappeared again.
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"Ah, one of your 'creatures' I presume. If I may be so bold, I would like to know whether all of their kind are condemned to servitude within this castle and do they often supply you with drinks when supposedly assessing the merits of a potential student? It seems unwise; you're mind cannot be up to par with several of those in your system."
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"A riding crop is an interesting sort of weapon," he mused idly. "Perhaps you are an equestrian, or perhaps an altogether different sort of enthusiast."
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"No I am not an equestrian, I reside in London and therefore the acquisition of such a skill would waste useful time. I find it much easier to call a cab within the city and some drivers' observations about their clientele are an integral part of my web of conclusions. However, there is nothing better than going on foot, as you will not be hampered by a second party: you are always in control of where you go and at what speed. As to other uses of the riding crop, I have no inkling to what you imply."
In fact, he could think of several other uses for the implement in question, but Holmes was a gentlemen first.
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"Pedestrian travel does have many advantages. Surely, it is better to trust your own observations over a driver's, and being on foot, it would be easier to take in your surroundings. A vehicle has an insulating effect. Still," he continued, balancing his toothpicks more carefully as the tiny structure grew, "It lis limiting to have such a restricted area of operations without electronic surveillance and reliable underlings."
The first of which, at least, this applicant either lacked or would claim to lack, if his apparel and speech was anything to go by.
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sorry, wrong pic...
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I slide my hands into my pockets. "Why are you here?" I ask.
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OOC: Had to...there's this running around on wiki: "In 1956, John D. Clark put forth a theory in the Baker Street Journal that Wolfe was the offspring of an affair between Sherlock Holmes and Irene Adler (a character from "A Scandal in Bohemia"). Clark suggested that the two had had an affair in Montenegro in 1892, and that Nero Wolfe was the result."
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"My colleague is first and formost a doctor and the predicament that his kind often face is that their profession is one of the most sensationalized. I believe that the affect of being surrounded by such propaganda has somehow wired his brain to look for suspense in the usually mundane problem solving that his work requires. Therefore it is logical to believe that my cases in their increased complexity should also call for an increase in dramatic narrative on his part. He is a good man despite this flaw."
His tone was dismissive as if the words coming out of his mouth were an old mantra which did not require any cognitive activity to repeat.
"What is your purpose in coming to this 'Sorting Room'?" he asked "I do not mean to offend, but you hardly seem like the rest of the younger occupants of this room who seek entertainment at the expense of my fellow applicants."
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He looked around for a chair. His legs did not appreciate supporting him for longer than needed, nor did he like being on his feet longer than needed. He toddled over to one and, in a move that did appall him, he withdrew a 'wand' from his pocket and adjusted the size of it to fit his seventh of a ton. Such actions flew in the face of logic, but he was far more comfortable with the results.
"My purpose," he said after adjusting his bulk, "is to see if my colleague had arrived. However, now that I am here, the convention is that I must select one of those nonsensically named 'houses' for you to stay at during your incarceration here." He was still not pleased to be here.
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Holmes figured he quite liked the individual before him and his respect grew more when he pulled out a wand and expanded the chair in front of his eyes. So far this had been his first experience with magic and was fascinated by the idea of not having to squeeze into small chairs, which could not contain his lengthy limbs.
"Explain these houses to me," he asked, "do they determine which classes I must attend? I assume they denote one's status in the school, placing a reputation on a person before they even interact with those outside the sorting room. Please explain the advantages and disadvantages that you consider each to possess. Even if I do not have a choice in the matter, it might prove useful."
(ooc: reposted, because I wanted an excuse to use that icon.)
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