Distant Minds {{Sherlock Rp with Circledude5}}

[Circledude5]

"Sherlock, where did you two go?"


"Bart's." Sherlock replied immediately. "Had to get some information from Molly."


"Right," John said, clearly not buying Sherlock's fib. "And your coat sleeve's ripped why then? Violent papercut? Let me see that."


"I'll be fine." Insisted Sherlock moving away. John grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him down into a chair. "John is this really-"


But John was already pulling the coat off and taking in the cut-off sleeve of the detective's shirt.

 

[Shadow Cat]

Mycroft looked at her for a moment with a raised eyebrow.


"So who are you really?" Ciera asked.


"Sherlock's brother. Elder brother to be exact. You and John certainly are a lot alike." He commented, his voice making it evident that it was not a compliment but rather a useful observation.


"Off you go then." He directed as his assistant walked up behind her. She didn't know what this was about, or why he had told her to accept the offer, but she figured that if that was Sherlock's brother, Sherlock was likely testing a theory by asking her to agree. She would figure it out later. For now, she just wanted to get back and sleep. She followed the woman back to the cab.

 

[Circledude5]

"For fuck's sake, Sherlock!" John exclaimed. The bandages around his arm had already soaked through. "You know I know were not at Bart's, because you were there at the explosion!" Sherlock shut his eyes in resignation, waiting for John to finish. "What the bloody hell happened?"


"Shard of glass John, propelled by the blast. Obviously the buildings on either side have tempered glass because of bomb threats, which means annealed glass was put intentionally into the one where the explosion took place. That means the someone wanted as many people as possible to get hurt." Sherlock sighed, eyes still shut.


"Yeah, whatever." John said. "Did they stitch it?"


"Why don't you take a look, John, and answer that question for yourself?"


John carefully peeled away the bandages to reveal a jagged but shallow cut in Sherlock's upper left arm. The paramedics had removed the shard and sterilised the woud as fast as they could, but Sherlock hadn't let them use local anesthetics to stitch it. The drugs standardly used by the hospital generally had the opposite effect, causing him to feel the pain more than without. So, they'd grudgingly bandaged his arm and left him to "calm from post-traumatic stress and shock".

 

[Shadow Cat]

Ciera sat in the car with a deep sigh, glad to finally be going back to the flat. Not that it wasn't fun to do everything that she had done today, but she was immensely tired. The cab pulled up a few moments later at the flat, and she stepped out.


She walked to the door, opening it and stepping in before ascending the stairs. "Why does your brother want to spy on you?" Ciera asked as she walked into the living area where John and Sherlock were arguing, probably over the explosion.

 

[Circledude5]

John had stitched the wound without the use of anesthetics. That was how Sherlock preferred it, considering John would never let him use his own (more effective) home-concocted anesthetics. Sherlock thought that would be the end of it; he was safe. But, no. After nearly fifteen minutes of very profane scolding, the detective decided he better speak up for himself because he was now being blamed for also putting Ciera in danger "two damn times in a single bloody day!"





"Both times she knew almost exactly what she was walking into." Sherlock said calmly, "As did you when you allowed her to stay here."


After a further ten minutes of shouting from John and less and less calm retorts from Sherlock, Ciera came in, asking about Mycroft's motives. Sherlock leapt upon the distraction.


"Dysfunctional protectionism." Sherlock said immediately, his head snapping around to face her. "He has OCD."

 

[Shadow Cat]

Ciera raised an eyebrow. John seemed furious with Sherlock, and that was not something she wanted to be in the middle of, especially if he was also furious with her.


'Why did you tell me to accept the offer?" Ciera asked curiously, leaning against the doorframe. John looked shocked, as if he couldn't believe that anyone was discussing anything except the explosion. "Calm down John." Ciera said quickly as he opened his mouth to speak.

 

[Circledude5]

John stared at Ciera for a moment, then, he stormed off to his room where he could cool off.


Sherlock, ignoring John, said, "To mess with Mycroft's head, mainly." He of all people with his own anxiety should know that that wasn't a good idea, but he justified it by reasoning that Mycroft had messed with his anxiety for ages, even if it had been inadvertent. "I appear to be his main trigger."

 

[Shadow Cat]

Ciera laughed. "Sibling rivalry. I could only imagine what you and your brother are like when you're in the same room."


Ciera glanced momentarily toward John's room, where he was undoubtedly angrily scribbling on a crossword puzzle.

 

[Circledude5]

Sherlock gave her a dark look. Whenever Mycroft came for a visit, the flat instantly became a war zone. He sighed again, rubbing his arm where John had applied fresh bandages. "He is so irritating. Can't keep his over-large nose to himself." He stood up to hang up his coat, which had been tossed onto John's armchair. "Even his 'trustworthiness test', which, like everything else, he claims is 'for my own good'. I could've had a flatmate months earlier if he hadn't administered it. All the people I'd tried I knew well."

 

[Shadow Cat]

"Well, that makes since I suppose. After he asked he if I would spy on you, I asked him who he was and he said something about being an 'arch nemesis' and I told him he wasn't and he just sort of..forgot about the whole spying thing and sent me back here." Ciera explained, paraphrasing her conversation with Mycroft.

 

[Circledude5]

Sherlock didn't respond, but sat back down, put his head back, and closed his eyes. His shelf for Ciera was getting overly full. He'd have to clean it out or allot more space. But not yet; he could still wait.


His arm hurt. Quite a bit, actually, but he couldn't - rather, wouldn't - let that show. He had more self-control than that. He needed something to distract him. He got up again, and beelined for the corner where his violin case sat. Taking it out, he felt the friendly wood, cool to the touch. He ran the bow along his fingers, soft and inviting. He went back to his chair, cradling his beloved instrument, and brought it up to his chin. His left arm hurt badly from the strain, but he ignored it. If he was able to play, he could lose the pain.

 

[Shadow Cat]

Ciera watched as Sherlock went to retrieve his violin. She remembered that morning when she had heard him playing. He had a gift for the violin. Rather than going upstairs to rest as she had planned, she walked over to the couch, leaving John's chair unoccupied in case he calmed down and wanted to come back out of his room.


She lay down on the couch, her head on the arm rest, as he began to play. The soft music drifted through the air in smooth, calming, tones.

 

[Circledude5]

[sorry I got super preoccupied. Coding for a site, actually. Sounds really boring but it's actually kind of addicting...even though it is dull. If your character is based off yourself you know what I mean. Actually, it's not dull. But in order to figure out what I need to code, I have to first read a ton of code which either contains too many spaces (CSS and JavaScript) or too few (html) ]


He played Bach. Bach's Violin Concerto in E Major for solo violin and piano accompaniment. Mycroft played the piano. He always prided himself on being able to memorise the music very quickly, whereas his brother had to have the score out for him. He knew it was because Mycroft had rarely gotten the chance to practice and he had practiced nearly twenty-four-seven, but it was still amusing to Sherlock, even now, even though Mycroft had given up the ivories years ago.


The concerto triggered particular memories he liked, ones that - in his own subtle way - tormented Mycroft. He cared about Mycroft so much, of course. He'd easily give his life for his elder brother. But every once and a while, he had to remind himself that he was still parading around, claiming to detest him. And it was always a bit if a pick-me-up to recall the then-very thin Mycroft messing up over and over and over at the old piano.

 

[Shadow Cat]

((Omg!! I do coding too!! I do mine for people on this gaming website in exchange for website currency(wc) that you use to get for other things on it. It actually also has a roleplay forum. Actually that's how I got into roleplay))


Ciera was completely still as she laid on the couch and listened. The music flowed around the room, almost like tangible serenity. It ebbed and flowed like the tide on a shoreline as his quick hands slid the bow easily across the strings. He had clearly practiced very often to get as good as he was.


The music was very lulling, and did a lot to calm her after the day she had had. Soon, her breathing had become rhythmic and it was evident that she had drifted into a soft, dreamless sleep. She hadn't even realized that she had been as tired as she was. It was quite a relief to be able to sleep, given how exhausted she felt when the adrenaline had stopped pumping through her veins and the fatigue had finally caught up with her.


John of course was still in his room, moping about no doubt.

 

[Circledude5]

[very destracted. Building a blog is time-consuming! Also I've been considering class choices for school a lot too so that's another thing. I'll try to post at least once or twice a day though.]


Sherlock heard John's feet patter into the bathroom upstairs just as he started Beethoven's in D major. He heard the shower go on, and glanced over to where he knew Ciera was lying on the sofa. To his suprise, she was asleep. Interesting.


He stopped playing his concerto when he heard John pad back to his room to turn in. Instead, he started playing Brahm's Lullaby. It was the one he always played when John woke from a nightmare. When, in the dead of night, he heard the good doctor pacing upstairs, trying to calm himself down. But this time, Sherlock supposed, he was using it as a bit of an apology.

 

[Shadow Cat]

Ciera's eyes blinked open to a new, familiar tone. Brahm's Lullaby. A small smile softened her features as the lyrics ran through her head. Lay thee down now and rest, may thy slumber be blessed. Judging by the sunlight outside the window, she hadn't slept for long, but it had been refreshing all the same.


She sat up on the couch, looking over at Sherlock as he played the violin. She could hear John's footsteps pacing around upstairs as the music flowed.

 

[Circledude5]

Sherlock glanced back at Ciera again as he heard he stir slightly. His ears cocked back slightly, hearing her small movement as she woke, taking in John's muffled but angry pacing.


He knew John was mad at him. John wouldn't say it outright again, it wasn't his fault; that was how he was. But he'd make it clear enough for the bed couple days.

 

[Shadow Cat]

Ciera looked down as her phone received a message. After everything that had happened, her stomach dropped at the mere sound.


Come to the pool. You and SH only. Don't bring anyone else.


~M





"Son of a bitch." She muttered as she scanned over the message again. "What pool?"

 

[Circledude5]

Sherlock brought down his violin with such force that it squealed angrily and landed with a slap on his lap. He wouldn't dare. Well, he would. He's Moriarty, after all. He was a dangerous man, and now Ciera was getting mixed up in his affairs. He'd scold John tomorrow about it (his fault she was here in the first place...).


"Give me that." His head had snapped over to face her, and he held out his hand commandingly for her phone.

 

[Shadow Cat]

Ciera jumped slightly and looked up as she heard the music stop abruptly followed by a loud squeal and a slap. At Sherlock's command, she simply tossed the phone over, to startled by the text message and the severity in his tone to do much else.


He had obviously known that it was Moriarty that had texted her from her question about the pool, and yet he hadn't told her anything about a pool. She had had about enough of his hiding things. If she was to stay, she was going to start needing all of the information.

 

[Circledude5]

She could not be dragged into this once again! She had to go. John (bless his soul) just had to let her come, and now Moriarty was twice as active and interested in a completely innocent person whom he would get into trouble if anything happened to. "No pool of any concern to you." Sherlock said shorty, tossing the phone back. "You aren't going, and neither am I."


He, in actuality, fully intended to go to the pool. But he would go alone. Ciera was not coming along, John wasn't coming along, no one at 221b would know he had even left the flat - he'd make sure of that. And he'd ensure to avoid of Mycroft's CCTV cameras too. It wouldn't be the first time he'd pulled a similar scheme. "You should go to bed. It's been a long day." Sherlock said, picking up his violin once again.

 

[Shadow Cat]

Ciera raised an eyebrow. She knew that he would probably go without her while she and John slept. And she fully intended to follow him.


"Fine." She replied simply a she turned on her heel and ascended the stairs. She lay down in the bed and evened out her breathing after a few moments and pretended to sleep.

 

[Circledude5]

She was clever, Sherlock thought as he tenderly put away his violin. She'd try to follow him. He'd have to up his game a bit in order to ensure that that wouldn't happen.


Usually, he went out the back door into the alley, then up the fire escape on the neighbouring building. On each of the seventeen steps down, he'd stay completely still for exactly a minute (except the one that squeaked - he skipped that one) and then silently creep past Mrs. Hudson's flat. He'd use his alternate plan, the one that he'd used before he'd gotten rid of all of Mycroft's stupid camera's. Big Brother. In more ways than one.


Sherlock went to his room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

 

[Shadow Cat]

Ciera listened as the door to Sherlock's room shut and she bounded quietly out of bed, stacking up some pillows under the covers so that John would think that she was still in bed. She put on her coat and scarf and opened her door silently, though just a crack. She listened for any sign of movement.

 

[Circledude5]

Sherlock went through the door and into the first floor bathroom. He unlatched the opaque window and slid it open, gritting his teeth as it made an irritating squelching noise. He'd have to get someone to replace the rubber insulation. This one created painful noises.