Sherlock Holmes (
3potionproblem) wrote in
sortinghat_rp2013-04-20 07:09 am
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This is perhaps the strangest hallucination I have ever experienced. Tactile is not generally a component nor do I tend to believe I've lived two different childhoods. Can't be H.O.U.N.D. and I haven't used. Lucid dreaming, perhaps? Most likely though in that case I have rather lost control. Very odd indeed, but then I do seem to harbor the belief that this book will populate itself with responses and that I'm at a school for learning magic. It hardly does to only call one thing odd when so much is absolutely ridiculous. But I believe it. That shouldn't be possible.
I'll have to consider carefully how to move forward from here. I'm not sure how but it could be Moriarty. Makes as much sense as anything.
[ooc - replies with not_a_hero. 4th wall breaking is A-Okay]
I'll have to consider carefully how to move forward from here. I'm not sure how but it could be Moriarty. Makes as much sense as anything.
[ooc - replies with not_a_hero. 4th wall breaking is A-Okay]
[Action]
[Sherlock climbed up some fallen tree, easily walking up the knobby wall of dead wood with his long legs.]
I'll find out footprints in the mud, then. We'll be fine. Or we'll end up spending the night. One way or another, yes?
[Action]
[John attempts to climb up on his own, but no matter how valiantly he tries, his legs just aren't long enough to get good traction. He sighs in irritation.]
Think I'll need a leg-up.
[Action]
He walks back over to the side John's still on and offers him a hand.]
Try and pull yourself up.
[Action]
Don't give me that look. Not all of us can be 90% legs.
[Still, he grasps Sherlock's hand. Fortunately, it's just enough leverage to do the trick, and John manages to pull himself up.]
[Action]
[He waits for John only long enough to see he won't need more help then is off again, looking up into the trees as well as down along the broken and dead things on the ground.]
Large things have moved through here. See how everything is broken up to waist level?
[Action]
Yeah. Whatever made this mess had to have been pretty strong. What do you think it was?
[Action]
[Action]
You're definitely right there. Underestimating the size and general nastiness of anything in this forest would be a terrible idea.
Do you think it came through recently?
[Action]
[Sherlock leaps along, kneeling down near a patch of brush over a spread of mud.]
Less than half an hour judging by these prints! Still relatively fresh with very few water pools from the soil saturation. Long claws, padded feet... hairy. Bit hard to tell feline from canine but these claws are massive!
[Action]
He jumps down. Considerably easier than climbing up, that.]
Given this is magic we're talking about, it might somehow be canine and feline all at once. Can you tell which direction it was going?
[Action]
[Sherlock waves the torch out in front. The light catches in the eyes of something watching them. Sherlock sits up a little straighter. Oh.]
[Action]
You know what I meant. Prat.
[Being a bit further off, John doesn't see the glint of the light against the eyes. All he sees is Sherlock suddenly go still and rigid. He frowns and takes a few steps closer.]
Sherlock...?
[Action]
John, you might want to try getting back over that tree now.
[Action]
What are you talk-
[He's cut off by a terrible growl that freezes him in place and sends chills down his spine. It takes a second for him to realize it's coming from right in front of Sherlock.]
Jesus Christ, get the hell away from it!
[Action]
[Action]
And what, just leave you there? We need the torch to see the way out of here, and I'm the only one of us with something that can even remotely be used as a weapon.
[He carefully slides the scissors out of his pocket, and does not back off toward the tree.]
[Action]
Do me a favor and close your eyes. I'm going to try to set it on fire. I want your night vision to be ready if we lose the torch.
[Action]
He shuts his eyes and grinds his teeth.]
Shit! They're closed! But the second anything goes wrong, I'm charging at it and trying to get you out of there, short legs be damned.
[Action]
On three, then. One... two....
[He lunges forward with his stick and the animal certainly does not like that. It backs away from the fire but only so as to try and come in around it. The dew on the ground has made the undergrowth hard to light and Sherlock worries the same may be true for the animal's coat. Not good.
It growls, nearly roars at them and in it's circling of the fire. Sherlock can see it clearly now and is... well, yes, surprised.]
It's a rodent!
[Not that that is entirely in their favor. He does not like the look of those front teeth. He makes one last good stab at it with the torch and he can smell singed fur and definitely tell the cry is one of pain but it will not catch. It lunges at him defensively, no longer too afraid of the fire not to chance the attack.]
[Action]
Sherlock!
[He breaks into a sprint, hoping to get there before too much damage is done. With both hands on the object, he jams the scissors into the unusually large rodent's thick hide. It's not enough to kill, but definitely enough to pierce and hurt. John can feel the creature's hot blood on his hands.]
[Action]
Sherlock gets up, trying to grab the things tail, jump on it, anything to help John.]
[Action]
In his periphery, he spots Sherlock trying to help. Between panting breaths, he tries to call out over the rodent's roars and terrible shrieks.]
Blind it! Try to go for the eyes! Maybe it'll back off!
[Action]
[Great idea and all but that seems to be the more dangerous end. Sherlock digs in his pocket and grabs another roll of cloth. There's really not enough time to find a suitable stick to use as a weapon but he might not need to. He grabs the tail and wraps the cloth around it, tying it in a knot best he can before grabbing another match from the box he carries.]
Once it's lit, let go!
[He strikes the match and lights the cloth which catches beautifully and burns against the beasts flesh.
It is not a happy rodent.]
[Action]
Panting and charged with adrenaline, he rips away some of the gnarled foliage in an attempt to see how Sherlock is faring and whether the rodent is finally fleeing.]
[Action]
Sherlock hardly gives time to catch his own breath before he's up, looking for John, sounding far more worried now that the attack is over than he did when they were in the thick of it.]
John?!
[He sees him and runs, sliding to his knees to check and see that everything is alright, pulling open John's jacket and inspecting his hands and arms for all signs of injury.]
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