Because I've been missing your Sherlock and, suddenly, here you are! :D (And I rolled a 1 :))a_stopped_clockDecember 12 2011, 17:21:07 UTC
[It's taken at least an hour longer than usual for Arrietty to make her way to the world above the meagre existence of the Borrowers, all thanks to the many layers of handmade clothes and the heavy woollen blanket -- once a part of one of John's old scarves -- she's wrapped tightly around herself to guard against the persistent cold.]
[But she eventually reaches the top of the long, makeshift ladder that leads up to the loose socket behind Sherlock's sofa, where she takes a moment to rest and to get some feeling back in her fingers, her breath misting the air. Lord, but it's freezing!]
[Tucking her hands into the folds of her blanket, she steps through the the layer of dust under the sofa, peering out onto the floor of the living room, half expecting to see a large pair of shoves stomp past her hiding place.]
Eee! I saw a trailer for the Arrietty movie the other day and was thinking of you x3deducing_freakDecember 12 2011, 17:51:54 UTC
[It is freezing, and Sherlock is not a very happy detective because of it. Seems their flat runs on oil and the tank is empty. Unfortunately with the freak blizzard, it's made it difficult to get a refill. So Sherlock is sitting curled up on the couch in his usual set of pajamas. Dark grey pants made of a soft fleece and a lighter grey shirt, all of which is covered up by a heavier burgundy dressing down and is topped off with his long black wool coat.
No. Sherlock Holmes does not enjoy being cold. Being anemic doesn't seem to help matters much either.
Sorry little lady. But he's too busy being cold and grumpy to notice you right away. He's actually still waiting for John to bring him that cuppa tea he had asked for about an hour ago... seems he didn't realize the doctor ran out to make an emergency house call in all this mess.]
[Under the floorboards, Arrietty's family haven't been faring any better. When she left Pod and Homily, they were huddled in front of the wood-burning stove in as many layers as they could spare, talking quietly about borrowing some more candles from Mrs. Hudson.]
[Arrietty, however, has other ideas. Tip-toeing cautiously to the end of the sofa and the vast expanse of the living room floor, she glances up and spots the end of the belt of Sherlock's coat dangling from the edge. Well, that certainly makes things easier.]
[It takes a good deal of stretching on her toes and few determined hops but she manages to brush the end of it with her fingers and, gripping it tightly, gives it a few sharp tugs.]
[ooc: Oh, I've seen it! And, in typical Studio Ghibli fashion, it's absolutely gorgeous. Some of the scenes are just stunning to look at. I miss hand-drawn animations!]
[At first he doesn't seem to notice. But it's a persistent little tugging and it does catch his attention. Sherlock moves to sort of lean over the edge of the couch and glance down. Sure enough. It's the little neighbor from under the floorboards. It's a pleasant surprise actually, it's been a while since they've crossed paths... at least, that he's noticed.
But it's hard for him not to realize random little things having gone missing. Especially lately, what with the colder temperatures. Socks were missing. Same with the gloves. Even Mrs. Hudson was beginning to think her age was starting to catch up with her as she was always forgetting where she misplaced her candles.]
Long time no see.
[He sits up some, reaching down. Sherlock knows to not be so forward as to pick her straight up. He's a gentleman and simply offers his hands down to her.]
You look how I feel.
[[Aww did you?! I'm jelly. I wanna see it sooo bad, it looks so cute. I love everything by Ghibli.]]
[She gives him a bit of wave, quickly bundling herself back up before, with only the most minor of hesitations, she steps carefully into his palm and sits in the middle of it, legs crossed and shoulders hunched. Thank goodness his hands are so warm.] I don't think I've felt my toes in days.
[Twists to glance towards the windows, lifting her head over the thick layers of her little blanket.] Is it still snowing outside?
[ooc: It's not one of Ghibli's most action packed but it has a lot of heart to it, and I think it's strength is its simplicity. I actually saw the Japanese version when it was being streamed online so I could probably find the link for you?]
[Congratulations little one, you've just earned his first smile of the day. Granted it's a faint little smile, but it's genuine none the less. Seems he's in one of his dark moods but she usually does find some way to force him into better spirits.
Sherlock is careful, as always, bringing her up more to his level.]
From what I've heard it's supposed to keep this up into the morning... and even then, it's only expected to lighten up, but not stop.
[Nope. He's not at all happy about it.]
John is out there trudging around in it all. Hasn't even returned any of my texts yet. [Though he sounds annoyed, it's obvious he's just concerned. Sherlock isn't the greatest at displaying is true emotions.]
How have you been faring?
[[ Eee! Could you? AND I WOULD LOVE YOU EVEN MORE?! :D ]]
[Arrietty's no happier about these rather unfavourable circumstances if the distinct wrinkling of her nose is any indication.] I don't envy him. He's probably had to shelter somewhere until the worst of it passes.
[With a last, lingering glane to the window and the vast, impenetrable whiteness outside, she settles back against his fingers, drawing his thumb over herself for warmth. He doesn't mind being used as a living radiator, does he?]
[She smiles wryly at him, giving his hand a sympathetic pat.] Better than you by the looks of things. You look as though you might turn blue from the cold.
He went out to a patients house... so he's probably staying there till it lightens up some.. [Or so he hopes anyway. Despite the fact he's concerned for the doctor, Sherlock would only get angry at him for facing the storm and whatever risks just to get home.]
As much as I like cooler weather, I can't stand nearly freezing to death. And in my own flat no less. It's ridiculous.
[But he doesn't mind being used as a heat source. Provided that there's much heat at all left in him anyway. You're more then welcome to borrow it if you like. Sherlock settles himself back, resting against the arm of the sofa as he looks down to her.]
John seems sensible enough, I'm sure he's alright. [She says with all the confidence of a person who's never met John, of course. She's rather made up her mind about him, having drawn her own conclusion from various conversations she's accidentally overheard. He and Sherlock can be quite loud sometimes, especially when they're on an important case.] He'd have gotten in touch if there was something the matter, wouldn't he?
Luckily for you, I have the perfect solution. [He looks so thoroughly miserable that, to try and coax a smile out of him - or, at the very least, a derisive raise of an eyebrow - she disentangles herself from her blanket and, wobbling to her feet, shakes it out and lays it across his chest almost like a picnic blanket, successfully covering all of six square inches of him.] There. Isn't that better? You'll start to warm up in no time at all.
[He just sighs. Sure, John is sensible enoguh but that's not going to stop him from worrying. Sherlock can be considerate like that at times.]
Hm..? [Soulution? Well that gets him curious, and he does arch a brow watching the little lady get up to her feet again. When he sees her lay the small napkin sized make-shift blanket over him, it does merit a bit of a smile.
Apparently everyone, big or small, thought he needed a nanny. It was actually sort of funny in a way.]
...This looks like a piece of John's scarf.
[But he isn't complaining. That scarf was warm. So that little square portion of his chest will be nice and comfortable at least.]
Oh. I imagine it probably was at some point. [Ah. Yes. They've had the discussion about borrowing or, as Sherlock is so keen to point out, stealing his things. He doesn't mind, does he?]
[Slips back into the safety of his palm -- she wishes he wouldn't sigh like that. It's like trying to stand on the deck of a boat and, frankly, she doesn't have much in the way of sea-legs -- tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.] Though, of course, the obvious solution is to put your fireplace to good use. [She reaches for the tip of one of his fingers, pressing her palm flat against it in the same way she might check for fever.] I think you're beginning to turn to ice.
[Well it was technically stealing. Taking things for your own use without the intent of returning them. Even if they were small little things that most people wouldn't even miss. Sherlock Holmes notices everything. Even when it's only buttons or candlesticks that happen to disappear.
But he'll forgive you. Since apparently he's the only one who has taken any notice.]
It's gas powered. The pilot is out. And I lost my lighter.
[As if he hadn't already thought of using the fireplace. He was almost tempted to start burning his books in the middle of the floor. But he opted against it and just kept adding on the layers. If the blizzard kept up at this rate, he'd most likely resort to reading those books anyway.]
[But she eventually reaches the top of the long, makeshift ladder that leads up to the loose socket behind Sherlock's sofa, where she takes a moment to rest and to get some feeling back in her fingers, her breath misting the air. Lord, but it's freezing!]
[Tucking her hands into the folds of her blanket, she steps through the the layer of dust under the sofa, peering out onto the floor of the living room, half expecting to see a large pair of shoves stomp past her hiding place.]
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No. Sherlock Holmes does not enjoy being cold. Being anemic doesn't seem to help matters much either.
Sorry little lady. But he's too busy being cold and grumpy to notice you right away. He's actually still waiting for John to bring him that cuppa tea he had asked for about an hour ago... seems he didn't realize the doctor ran out to make an emergency house call in all this mess.]
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[Arrietty, however, has other ideas. Tip-toeing cautiously to the end of the sofa and the vast expanse of the living room floor, she glances up and spots the end of the belt of Sherlock's coat dangling from the edge. Well, that certainly makes things easier.]
[It takes a good deal of stretching on her toes and few determined hops but she manages to brush the end of it with her fingers and, gripping it tightly, gives it a few sharp tugs.]
[ooc: Oh, I've seen it! And, in typical Studio Ghibli fashion, it's absolutely gorgeous. Some of the scenes are just stunning to look at. I miss hand-drawn animations!]
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But it's hard for him not to realize random little things having gone missing. Especially lately, what with the colder temperatures. Socks were missing. Same with the gloves. Even Mrs. Hudson was beginning to think her age was starting to catch up with her as she was always forgetting where she misplaced her candles.]
Long time no see.
[He sits up some, reaching down. Sherlock knows to not be so forward as to pick her straight up. He's a gentleman and simply offers his hands down to her.]
You look how I feel.
[[Aww did you?! I'm jelly. I wanna see it sooo bad, it looks so cute. I love everything by Ghibli.]]
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[Twists to glance towards the windows, lifting her head over the thick layers of her little blanket.] Is it still snowing outside?
[ooc: It's not one of Ghibli's most action packed but it has a lot of heart to it, and I think it's strength is its simplicity. I actually saw the Japanese version when it was being streamed online so I could probably find the link for you?]
Reply
Sherlock is careful, as always, bringing her up more to his level.]
From what I've heard it's supposed to keep this up into the morning... and even then, it's only expected to lighten up, but not stop.
[Nope. He's not at all happy about it.]
John is out there trudging around in it all. Hasn't even returned any of my texts yet. [Though he sounds annoyed, it's obvious he's just concerned. Sherlock isn't the greatest at displaying is true emotions.]
How have you been faring?
[[ Eee! Could you? AND I WOULD LOVE YOU EVEN MORE?! :D ]]
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[With a last, lingering glane to the window and the vast, impenetrable whiteness outside, she settles back against his fingers, drawing his thumb over herself for warmth. He doesn't mind being used as a living radiator, does he?]
[She smiles wryly at him, giving his hand a sympathetic pat.] Better than you by the looks of things. You look as though you might turn blue from the cold.
[ooc: PM'd :D]
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As much as I like cooler weather, I can't stand nearly freezing to death. And in my own flat no less. It's ridiculous.
[But he doesn't mind being used as a heat source. Provided that there's much heat at all left in him anyway. You're more then welcome to borrow it if you like. Sherlock settles himself back, resting against the arm of the sofa as he looks down to her.]
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Luckily for you, I have the perfect solution. [He looks so thoroughly miserable that, to try and coax a smile out of him - or, at the very least, a derisive raise of an eyebrow - she disentangles herself from her blanket and, wobbling to her feet, shakes it out and lays it across his chest almost like a picnic blanket, successfully covering all of six square inches of him.] There. Isn't that better? You'll start to warm up in no time at all.
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Hm..? [Soulution? Well that gets him curious, and he does arch a brow watching the little lady get up to her feet again. When he sees her lay the small napkin sized make-shift blanket over him, it does merit a bit of a smile.
Apparently everyone, big or small, thought he needed a nanny. It was actually sort of funny in a way.]
...This looks like a piece of John's scarf.
[But he isn't complaining. That scarf was warm. So that little square portion of his chest will be nice and comfortable at least.]
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[Slips back into the safety of his palm -- she wishes he wouldn't sigh like that. It's like trying to stand on the deck of a boat and, frankly, she doesn't have much in the way of sea-legs -- tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.] Though, of course, the obvious solution is to put your fireplace to good use. [She reaches for the tip of one of his fingers, pressing her palm flat against it in the same way she might check for fever.] I think you're beginning to turn to ice.
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But he'll forgive you. Since apparently he's the only one who has taken any notice.]
It's gas powered. The pilot is out. And I lost my lighter.
[As if he hadn't already thought of using the fireplace. He was almost tempted to start burning his books in the middle of the floor. But he opted against it and just kept adding on the layers. If the blizzard kept up at this rate, he'd most likely resort to reading those books anyway.]
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