Forums » Forum Games » (IC) The ^, <, V game!

^ "18 of them....12 sisters and 6 brothers and I'm sure my parnta isn't done breeding yet."

< "Voldarian families are usually quite large. Imagine sharing a room with 6 or more sisters."

V "How large is your family?"

^ “I’ve got two older sisters and an older half sister! As you know, they’re Yorktown, Enterprise, and Wasp.”

< “Yeah, it’s a bit annoying be related to a bunch of champions!”

V “Hmm, hmm...which one of us smites you most?”

^ "Well, let us see here. Yorktown is an obvious comely mature woman. Kind and soft, a veritable motherly tone about her, fiercely protective but with an obvious inner warmth. Enterprise is a cool and assertive lady, with the noticeable distinction that while she is indeed cool she is not cold in personality, there is a vulnerability to her that makes you want to protect her despite her very obvious strength. Wasp is spunky and fun loving, a whirlwind of energy, she seems like she'll be fun to take anywhere without being too ditzy. And as for you, a comely lady, the exuberance and wild passion of youth, the obvious youngest of the bunch though not too naïve nor childish..."

< He seems to give it some serious thought, rubbing the dragon scales on his chin before his eyes come alight. "I have made my decision! I will simply have you all!"

V "The obvious choice, would you not say?"

^ "Ah..." Maisi considers her options, deciding to go with a friendly, "Well, when you put it that way, I guess it is pretty obvious!"

> She honestly has no clue what was going on, and frankly has a few other matters to worry about at the moment. One of those being: where the heck is she? She probably took a wrong turn somewhere, because she's not where she started--wherever that was. Come to think of it, she's not really sure where she was going in the first place.
She really ought to start getting more sleep.

v With nothing else to go on, the artist attempts to catch the attention of a passerby. "Excuse me, but where are you headed?"

↑ As if stirred from his erratic musings, the detective turns toward the young artist with a start, his face pale and glacial eyes pinkened about their rims from some apparent physical strain. Sherlock glances about in an effort to ascertain his location, but before he could share that knowledge with Maisi, a small, fitful shudder overcomes him. He makes an effort to shake off the sensation, and once he is able to reacquire a modicum of composure, Sherlock wrings something akin to an answer out of himself, "To my flat, if you must know. I need to pick up...something -- if you are lost, which gauging by your expression, you are, I could very easily show you the way."

← Whether or not he was about to be accompanied, Sherlock himself seemed to be in quite the hurry. There was a level of anxiety about the consulting detective that seemed to urge him onward, however, an eagerness, no, perhaps a burdensome inclination circumscribed him to his destination. Whatever the case maybe, it was up to the other on whether or not she'd follow him at all. The necessity to return to 221B expedited Sherlock's movements, and the sleuth pressed on.

↓ In his haste, however, and despite the careful maneuvering through the masses, he was quite sidetracked by his objective and thus came into contact with a poor, unsuspecting bystander. "Are you aware that there is a rather suspicious stain on your lapel?" He pauses, an expression of impatience settles on his otherwise sharp features. "And that you are impeding my path?"

^ “I know about the blood. I was just in a mission with my Echelon, the Anti-Rain Team, with my squadmates, against the Sangvis Ferri. But perhaps you’re in my way. I was returning to base for maintenance.”

< She slides past the man, having nothing to hide.

V “Excuse me, but I’ll have to ask you to move.”

^ "Oh, Howdy stranger. I don't suppose you have any food on you? I haven't eaten in months"


< He continues walking, diverging paths soon after the encounter


v "Ah, You must excuse me. My mission is this way, do try to ignore my presence."

^ "I hope this mission of yours is going to a hospital. You have a very obvious bullet wound on your head."

< "Then again, that guy might have been undead. Eh, whatever. Didn't exactly look like duel material anyway."

V "Had any dealings with the undead lately? I've seen a lot of them these recent days. I wonder why is that?"

^ "Undead?" Maisi scrunches her nose up for a second. "Mm...can't say I have, no. But if you've been seeing a lot of them maybe I ought to start keeping an eye out." She pauses, then adds, "If there are any around, I hope they keep their distance--for once I'm having a pretty nice day, and I'd be kinda sore if a bunch of living dead ruined it."

< She relaxes her expression and smiles, in a rather good mood this evening. A short shift at work that morning and then a nice afternoon of painting just for herself, as evident by the colorful splotches on her jeans, is a day well-lived in her opinion. She even had time to finish that book she'd been trying to finish all month. Taking a deep breath and letting it out in a satisfied sigh, the artist falls into a casual stance, reaching up to pull off the black bandanna that's been resting over her hair.

> Looking to the next person as she tucks the bandanna into a back pocket, she asks amiably, "Read any good books lately? Today feels like a nice day to curl up somewhere and read."

↑ Sherlock was in the midst of his playing, the unsettled sounds of his violin a representation of his threadbare nerves. He paused, lifting the bow to hover over the line of strings and cocked his head a bit causing the instrument to perch precariously upon his shoulder.

"I have, actually," he stated in a conversational manner. "Agatha Christie's Murder on the Orient Express. Monsieur Poirot must be ever vigilant, for even a trip home to London can become a stirring test of his capabilities. I'd have thought the ending would have turned out differently, but it wasn't until the planted monogrammed handkerchief and pipe cleaner were brought to light that I was able to deduce the outcome. What an enlightening experience though."

"Of course, it is not the first time I've read this particular novel," he concluded with a faint quirk of the lips. It could almost be construed as a smile.

← He then resumed his playing, lowering his head to rest his chin accordingly and dropping the bow against the strings once more. The sounds that emitted were more lighthearted. It was as though the consultant's mood had brightened upon mentioning his favorite detective. The rush of notes floated airily and were expertly performed. Sherlock himself appeared entranced, lost in his own private concert, and so it went on like this for a handful of minutes before he snapped out of his reverie to realize he wasn't alone. And as such, his performance screeched to a sudden halt.

↓ It wasn't the company that bothered him per se, but the need to interact. With a mild hesitance, the detective inquired, "Can you appreciate the complexities of modern forensics? Do you value your little grey cells?"

^ “I’m not human so I don’t really care about that kind of thing.”

< “Pest.”, she uttered to herself as she usually does.

V “If you need something, then ask. If not, I’d like to get back to work.”

^ "How about a date? Could I ask for that?"

< "Why yes, I am quite the bold one."

v "And you do know what they say about fortune and bold ones, right?"

^ "Yes, I have--Fortis Fortuna Adiuvat I believe, although technically that translates as 'fortune favors the brave'. I've also heard it in reference to the strong and the wise." Maisi blinks once or twice, brow furrowing a trifle as she mentally checks the information. "...Mh-hm."

< Mostly-certain that she's right, she settles back onto her heels and runs one hand over her forehead and through her mousy hair. A stifled yawn gives an obvious hint to the weariness plaguing her body after a hard day of work; juggling two jobs could be hard enough without covering the shifts of everyone who decided they needed a day off. The artist rocks ever so slightly from one side to the other, appearing to be in the process of falling asleep standing up. Her eyes' usual lustre seems somewhat lacking, but a mild smile still rests on her face.

v "Looks like it's going to be a nice evening," she muses to someone standing nearby, despite looking like she's having trouble keeping her eyes open. "Lovely night to stay awake into the early morning hours working on class projects, wouldn't you say?" Her shoulders tremble slightly with a wry laugh. "I hope you've got all your work squared away for the night and at least one of us has some common sense."

↑ That someone standing nearby happened to be one James Moriarty, fearless scofflaw and era-defining genius. Jim could have sworn he heard the familiar resonance of a certain stringed instrument being artfully played off in the distance, and yet it wasn't the rich bariolage of a bow dancing carelessly over a line of taut cords that captured his attention. It was the sight before him and the gently posed remarks from a voice that seemed heavy with fatigue.

He took a moment to give his surroundings a thorough inspection before he declared his sentiments honestly. "I could take it or leave it."

Upon her next statement, Jim felt he had to interject in his defense. "No, no, that doesn't sound like me," he pauses, considering, "wait, except during midterms, but let's not discuss that, hm?"

There was a level of exhaustion Maisi displayed that unsettled Moriarty, and with a look of disappointment, he thoroughly tsked at her for what he noted as obvious signs of burnout. "Of course I have my work squared away. I always have my duckies in a row, darling. You, on the other hand, look utterly exhausted. Such is the bohemian life, alas. The world takes it's toll on your creative energies, but we all knew that a muse is born in pain; it thrives on it, and thus loves to inflict it."

He smiles evenly before adding, "Have you found that sponsorship yet, hm?"

← The consulting criminal then turned his attention to his open blazer, brushing something invisible from it's lapel before giving it a light tug. The t-shirt he sported bore four ridiculous caricatures of an old 80s cartoon series involving turtles on it's v-neck front. And propped atop his head were his favored Persol Clubmaster sunglasses. Judging by his appearance, it was a casual day for the professor, but his expression appeared vaguely attentive. It was as if he was awaiting something...

↓ It was then, with considerable effort, that Jim leaned over to the someone alongside their conversation out of earshot of the young artist. He hadn't a clue who the stranger was, but he was brazen in the fact that he just didn't care either. "How do you deal with it when someone won't take a hint no matter how tantalizingly you dangle it in front of them?"

^ "It's a difficult situation to be in for sure." Said a certain Halfling knight as he popped out from the bushes, his faithful magical Capybara mount by his side.

< "From experiences, I have learned that there are only two ways to go about it. You either tell the person how you feel and hope for the best or you give up of playing the hinting game and let it be. Perhaps the reason why they aren't taking your hints may be because they are not interested. It is painful, but one must learn to accept it and move on."

v The Halfling knight sounds like he's speaking from experience judging by his sad forlorn smile as he looks on. "What about you? Ever been in a situation like that before?"

^ "Can't say that I have," responded the elven priest. "But you have. I can tell. I hope you've been able to open yourself up to new love since then."

< "When I was in love, I was lucky enough that the feeling was mutual on her end. None of this hinting business. We were friends and then one day, suddenly, we were more than that," Taraviel said. Her memory was a somber one and he quickly tried to chase it away. Now was not the time nor the place for getting upset again. "I haven't been in a relationship since then, but it's fine... I have the light of the divines to sustain me," he added.

v He scoured his mind for literally anything else to talk about. This topic was bringing him down. "Do you have anyone in your care? A pet, or maybe some plants? A child, if you're so lucky? Oh, I've always wanted children..."

^ [black]I mean I take care of many kids, since the responsibility is thrown at me often[black/] <-- can only be heard if your character could see them "sorry but I don't"

< "I have a split personality, mostly between a demon and human, I'm the human" [black]I'm the demon, and I am the entity of the void which there are creature that live in the space that I control [black/]

v [black] tell me if you can hear me[black/] "I guess I'll ask a friend's question, 'if you could be anyone who would you be?'"

^ “There’s no person who could be as great as me in sense of “I want to be this person”. So I’d say I’d want to be meself.”

< She crosses her arms in dismay, slightly annoyed.

V “I ain’t got anything to say to you.”

^ - “Just as well. I don’t know you.”

< - I love sex on the beach... the drink!

v - You have a pretty cool haircut!

^ Aw thank you! I just trimmed my split ends recently.

< I enjoy the sound of the ocean at night.

v You wear some interesting clothes!