I must say that the weather in Maine this time of year is quite dreadful. It really makes me miss London.
-SH
Post with 2 notes
Hey, guys. Duncan here, again.
First off, I just want to say that I love of all of the amazing RPers I’ve met here, and those that I have dragged with me from the depths of Omegle and beyond. All of you are amazing people that struggle with some pretty big things sometimes, but you’ve all come out better for it.
Second of all, I want to say that my next point comes from a very heavy heart. I’ve gone back and forth with myself on this for a while and I don’t really see any other course of action.
Due to personal issues (not online, in my life outside of the internet) and time restrictions and me being a generalized dumb ass about work and shit - I have to stop replying here.
That doesn’t mean I’m giving up RPing for good. And if you ever want the odd pickup RP or something, my Skype is gamer-girl and my personal account is complaincan.tumblr.com.
I really do hate to leave you guys, especially my Jim, John (god I feel so bad for leaving you and you’re gonna read this and yell at me adn I’m just asd;klfhasdfhg), and my Harry - because I never did finish those replies for you guys. However, personal life comes first, and that requires me to pay attention to school work and start getting applications for jobs and colleges punched in.
Again, I love all of you very much so. I’m going to leave the account up, on the odd chance that I do get time to leave some notes, but please don’t expect any threads for a long while to come.
Feel free to yell and be angry at me. And I expect to lose plenty of followers. But, I just can’t juggle it right now.
-Duncan
Party went well yesterday. Out of the flat today to visit the various games.
-SH
Post with 1 note
((Ok, wow, I really need to stop doing this OOC posts.
SO BASICALLY THIS IS WHAT HAS BEEN GOING DOWN
my sleep schedule is all fucked up again, i have roughly about a month before school starts and literally only a fourth of my summer reading done. I’ve been out of the house a lot with my parents and now have to finish cleaning the gigantic mess of a room that i call my bedroom sometime soon.
SO I GUESS TLDR IS THAT I WON’T HAVE A LOT OF TIME TO RP FOR A BIT.
and probably even less when school starts back up in September.
happy news is that i got a boyfriend.
But anyway -
I’m so sorry guys!!!!
/sobs and rolls into the sun ))
((Ok, so, ah, I’ve been out of the house for a few days and I might be gone most of the day to tomorrow? I’m going to try to hammer out some replies right now, so I’m sorry for the major delays in those!
In other news I got a pretty new dress and a Claddagh ring that matches my favorite ring.))
erroetcresco asked: Alright, I think you can come back now. Everything should be alright, I think. - JW
John, if this has anything to do with the half of a cow in our bathroom, you are buying me another from the butcher. Also, you’ll explain this as soon as I get back.
-SH
((LAWL KAY SO
I spent most of today working out and then my dad had me mow the lawn and then made me cook dinner with him. Needless to say, I’m pretty beat and it’s almost already 11 at night where I’m at.
SO
I won’t be replying to threads, but I AM ON OMEGLE.
TRACK ME WITH purpleshirtofscience AS ONE OF YOUR INTERESTS
if you wanna talk that is. I’m on text, but I might switch to video if I feel like it laterz))
((Hey guys, I’m gonna head out for a little while, so I’ll get to replies tomorrow when I get online. Stay lovely, everybody~))
Post reblogged from Just So with 8 notes
Jim had his least favourite car sent to the younger Holmes’ address. It was due for sale in the next few weeks and if Sherlock tried to tag it or anything equally stupid, Jim wouldn’t be affected. He sent the text and laughed to himself, drawing a raised eyebrow from the barman.
The pub was suitably crowded and he’d had to elbow his spot at the bar, reserving Sherlock a seat by making temporary friends with an underage boy who was there before Jim arrived. As long as Jim bought him drinks, the kid would do as he wanted. So the pair sat in silence, drinking and watching the contrastingly modern television on the wall of the dated establishment.Sherlock stepped out of the car in front of the pub and considered leaving a tip for the driver, but decided against it. He didn’t think that Jim would appreciate the sarcasm of the action, if and when he found out. He could tell from the noise inside that the pub was already filled to the brim with people. Many eyes but all of them blind, if something were to go wrong.
Sighing to himself, more to brace for what was to come, Sherlock moved inside. Spotting Jim’s face at the bar was easy. Making his way to him was more difficult. Elbowing several patrons (and one very harsh verbal abuse session with a drunken man to get out of his way) took a few minutes to actually get through. He cleared his throat, breaking up whatever silent communication Jim had been having with an underage child. After all, this wasn’t exactly the situation for pick up lines.
Jim nudged his teenage acquaintance and the boy obediently left the seat. Without turning to see Sherlock, Jim patted the stool and took a large, preparatory swig of the disgusting lager he had forced himself to order. He wanted to look the part and the piss-like liquid completed his ensemble of work man’s trousers and stained T-shirt. The builder style didn’t suit his slight frame and that was precisely what amused him.
“Nice of you to join me,” he muttered into his glass, both hands around the base as his eyes rested on the waxy, chipped bar top. He could rely on his peripheral vision to track Sherlock for now. No need to seem overly keen by indulging in eye-contact.“I figured you would have picked a better place.” Sherlock sneered at someone who glanced at him. The last time had been in a place this packed was on his hiatus, at the club Wonderland. Needless to say, he had hoped he could avoid pubs and clubs for at least a year.
“I see you’ve gone for irony instead of iron today.” He commented. Other than when he tried to pull of the actor routine, Sherlock hadn’t seen him in anything but the best suits, expertly tailored and pressed to perfection. If these construction worker clothes did anything, it was successfully make the other man seem smaller than he was. Sherlock wasn’t thrown though. He knew how dangerous Moriarty really was, despite what clothes he wore to increase or decrease his size.
“You don’t like it?” Jim asked with a slight grin. He was referring more to the pub than his costume. He winced as he somehow managed to finish his drink and finally brought himself to face the detective, leaning one elbow on the sticky bar top.
“I’m delighted you chose to come, my dear,” Jim purred as he ordered another drink; this time, milk. He couldn’t be bothered maintaining his character to the point where his tastebuds suffered for the sake of uninterested onlookers and a man who knew what lay past the disguise anyway. “How does the good doctor feel about our little jaunt?”
“He didn’t say anything. I assume that he isn’t too impressed, however.” John was never impressed when Moriarty was involved. The whole incident in the pool had left a bitter taste in his mouth that was only further amplified by the whole scene at Bart’s. “And just what are we going to do, hm? Talk about each other’s others and giggle like school girls?”
Post reblogged from Just So with 8 notes
Jim had his least favourite car sent to the younger Holmes’ address. It was due for sale in the next few weeks and if Sherlock tried to tag it or anything equally stupid, Jim wouldn’t be affected. He sent the text and laughed to himself, drawing a raised eyebrow from the barman.
The pub was suitably crowded and he’d had to elbow his spot at the bar, reserving Sherlock a seat by making temporary friends with an underage boy who was there before Jim arrived. As long as Jim bought him drinks, the kid would do as he wanted. So the pair sat in silence, drinking and watching the contrastingly modern television on the wall of the dated establishment.Sherlock stepped out of the car in front of the pub and considered leaving a tip for the driver, but decided against it. He didn’t think that Jim would appreciate the sarcasm of the action, if and when he found out. He could tell from the noise inside that the pub was already filled to the brim with people. Many eyes but all of them blind, if something were to go wrong.
Sighing to himself, more to brace for what was to come, Sherlock moved inside. Spotting Jim’s face at the bar was easy. Making his way to him was more difficult. Elbowing several patrons (and one very harsh verbal abuse session with a drunken man to get out of his way) took a few minutes to actually get through. He cleared his throat, breaking up whatever silent communication Jim had been having with an underage child. After all, this wasn’t exactly the situation for pick up lines.
Jim nudged his teenage acquaintance and the boy obediently left the seat. Without turning to see Sherlock, Jim patted the stool and took a large, preparatory swig of the disgusting lager he had forced himself to order. He wanted to look the part and the piss-like liquid completed his ensemble of work man’s trousers and stained T-shirt. The builder style didn’t suit his slight frame and that was precisely what amused him.
“Nice of you to join me,” he muttered into his glass, both hands around the base as his eyes rested on the waxy, chipped bar top. He could rely on his peripheral vision to track Sherlock for now. No need to seem overly keen by indulging in eye-contact.
“I figured you would have picked a better place.” Sherlock sneered at someone who glanced at him. The last time had been in a place this packed was on his hiatus, at the club Wonderland. Needless to say, he had hoped he could avoid pubs and clubs for at least a year.
“I see you’ve gone for irony instead of iron today.” He commented. Other than when he tried to pull of the actor routine, Sherlock hadn’t seen him in anything but the best suits, expertly tailored and pressed to perfection. If these construction worker clothes did anything, it was successfully make the other man seem smaller than he was. Sherlock wasn’t thrown though. He knew how dangerous Moriarty really was, despite what clothes he wore to increase or decrease his size.
Page 1 of 40