bakerstreet | (no subject)

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ANGST MEME

Sometimes we all want to play some angst and see just how far our characters will fall.

- Post your characters, name and series in the subject along with any preferences.

- Go to random.org and roll.

- Play!

1. just depressed.

Things are tough, you're feeling worn out, or whatever the case, you're depressed. You need help or someone else thinks you do anyway.

2. abandoned.

You were left behind by everyone you hold dear and now you're forced to see how well they've adjusted, how happy they all are while you're screaming inside.

3. sick.

Cold, flu, or something even worse, all you can do is lay back and let someone take care of you.

4. fight.

You've been fighting nonstop with the other person and it just keep escalating.

5. break up.

You're being broken up with and they won't reconsider... Damn.

6. separated.

For some reason, you've been separated from the other person for a long time.

7. kidnapped.

You've been held captive for how long now? Maybe they've been torturing you even, using your blood to write ransom notes, threatening to cut off fingers to send next, etc. Rescue is on the way though, right?

8. beaten up.

Just because someone didn't like you or maybe they wanted something you had, whatever the case is, you're coming home sporting some nasty wounds and bruises.

9. jealousy.

You just have this undeniable jealousy suddenly and you need to let it out.

10. cheated on.This goes beyond just suspicion and you have full on proof of what your lover has done. How do you handle it?

11. apathetic.

You're not sad, you're not happy, you just... don't feel much anymore. The sparkle of life has gone right out of you and you're just going through the motions now.

12. addicted.

Drugs, alcohol, whatever your drug of choice is, you can't fight the draw and you can't draw yourself out of the hole, but the other person is going to try.

13. bad romance.

You know this isn't good for either of you, but you can't stop now.

14. fear.

Nightmares, the feeling someone is following you, etc. You can't shake the feeling.

15. insanity.

You're seeing things and hearing them, waking up only to realize you've done things you don't remember or you're in a place you weren't before. You're losing it and you don't know what to do.

16. guilt.

It's eating you up inside and you have to tell someone about it now. You want to be punished and you won't take no for an answer.

17. loss

You've lost something dear to you.

18. wild card.

Combine some options or make your own!

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[Joan is mostly aware of the danger she's in. Sherlock was, of course, the most recently hurt by these people, so her concern for him somewhat overshadows her concern for herself. But she does keep a lookout for people following her, or watching her, using reflective surfaces to monitor without turning her head and being obvious.

She withdraws five hundred dollars from the ATM, the maximum it will allow. Then she grabs a cart and moves quickly through the store. The phone first, since those are locked away and Joan doesn't want the other items in her basket to identify her at all. It takes longer than she likes to finally get some service, but once a bored-looking middle aged woman comes over, getting a phone is pretty fast.

Next comes clothing. Tagless t-shirts, the softest black trousers she can find in a hurry, a pack of silk boxers, a pack of black socks, a pair of brown loafers. Sherlock will be horrified by it all, she's sure, but she doesn't care at the moment.

Then groceries. Water, Gatorade, orange juice. Granola bars, potato chips. Apples and bananas. Bread and peanut butter.

The cart is full when she guides it to check-out. The cashier can't be much older than eighteen, and he's totally zoned out. He mumbles her total, she pays it in cash, he hands her change that she doesn't even bother to check before shoving it into her purse and heading out.]

((OOC: As you can see, I hadn't planned on Joan getting into trouble :) It's up to you if you want something to happen to Sherlock :) ))

[It only takes four minutes after Joan leaves him alone for the boredom to start sinking in. Well, the beginning of boredom for him is characterised by an over-active, unfocused burst of brain activity. He wants to get up (even if his body would protest) and do something. Find something to get his mind off of things. Exhaustion combined with this restlessness would make him moody and unhappy in the best of circumstances, but mixing that with the frustration of not being able to move since he's pretending to be an inanimate object is infuriating.

After twenty minutes, Sherlock's starting to feel anxiety on top of his boredom. He thinks Joan should be back by now - but that's just from a conservative estimated time frame. He can't rule out the possibility of mundane delays like long check-out lines (something he can't estimate without first seeing how many cars are in the parking lot. Something he would do if Joan isn't back out within the next ten minutes), crowded aisles, and the dreadful electronics section - he knows her well enough to think she'd get herself a mobile phone to replace the one she has linked with her identity.

Laying under the blanket is starting to feel too warm. Even though the temperature outside is well within jacket or light coat weather and he's accustomed to wearing a long coat during most of the year, he still doesn't like the smothering heat of too many blankets. ]

((OOC: I think he's had enough happen to him for now. Maybe something more can happen after he's had some recovery time.))

[Joan pushes the cart across the parking lot toward the car, deliberately insisting she stay calm. He's fine. She hasn't been that long, the car seems to have all its windows, he's not going to suffocate or bake in the car on a day like this. He's fine.

When she gets to the car, she keeps herself from checking on him, instead popping the trunk. She starts transferring bags from the cart to the trunk. With each movement back and forth, she shifts a couple things from bag to bag. By the time everything is in the trunk, she has one bag with clothes and the cell, one bag with Gatorade and potato chips. She picks up those two bags, opens the back door, and sets them on top of the blanket over Sherlock. She brings the cart to the corral, comes back and gets into the car, starts it, and heads out of the parking lot.]

[Sherlock freezes when he hears the sound of the trunk being unlocked. He'd vaguely registered the sound of the approaching shopping trolley beforehand and it doesn't take more than a moment for him to rationalise things. Joan is the only one that would first try the trunk and not the windows or doors. He relaxes and gives a relieved sigh, not moving the blanket from his face.

He doesn't say anything when Joan drops the bags on him and he stays perfectly still so they don't move around too much. His silence only lasts until she's in the car and closes the door.]

What took you so long? Stop to look at new shoes?

[Not that she can answer until they're on the road again.]

[She rolls her eyes, but holds her tongue until they're on the road. Once there, though, she lets him have it.]

Shoes? Seriously? I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume they hit you on the head back in that warehouse.

[She glances up at the rearview mirror.]

There's clothes, food and Gatorade in that bag. Eat and get dressed.

[He hadn't been serious about the shoes. It was the boredom and anxiety talking, but he doesn't explain himself because he feels that he doesn't need to. He sits up once he feels the car accelerate to a speed that he associates with the Interstate.

He opens up the first bag, the one containing the clothes. He looks through everything, upper lip twisting slightly because of the contents.]

If you can call these clothes.

[He sighs and starts to dress his torso first, since it's easier for him than the lower half while in the car. He gets a stare from a ten year old in a nearby car, but he doesn't acknowledge that he's noticed it.]

Just shut up and put them on.

[She glances up at the mirror again, but this time to look at the cars behind them. Grey Buick, white Mazda, blue BMW. She's pretty sure she hasn't seen any of them there before, and she remembers them so if they're still there a while from now she can start to worry.]

You'll want to start with the Gatorade. Get some fluid and electrolytes before the potato chips.

[Sherlock meets Joan's eyes in the rear view mirror briefly as he pulls the shirt over his head. He's going to try and will his way through ignoring the inside seams on the shirt in order to look more natural, but he could easily change his mind thirty minutes from now. Next is the package of boxers. He leans forward to work his legs through the boxers and struggles just a little to pull them up around his waist and to get everything settled.]

Gatorade and potato 'chips.' How health-conscious.

[He's just feeling grumpy from being left in the car alone for so long and he's taking it out on Joan. It will blow over once he's calmed down, but he still won't apologise for it unless she makes him later.]

[She shoots him a narrow-eyed glare in the mirror.]

Gatorade has fluid, electrolytes, and sugars. Potato chips are high in carbohydrates. They'll address your immediate needs, then you can move on to the apples and bananas in the trunk. And no, they're not going to get too hot, because we're going to have to stop soon, either for gas or to ditch this car and steal another one.

[She doesn't relish that thought, but if it keeps them alive, so be it.]

[Sherlock can tell now that he's struck a nerve with his attitude, so he just frowns but keeps his mouth shut for the moment. He averts his eyes away from the mirror and focuses all of his attention on getting the rest of a full outfit put on. The trousers are by far the hardest part for him, since it takes the most wiggling and effort to get them up and closed. It's enough to leave him slightly winded and he really hopes Joan doesn't notice that.

He chooses to grab for the Gatorade before putting on shoes and socks. It only takes about twenty seconds of effort before he's loosened the lid enough to open the bottle. He chugs down a third of the bottle without stopping for a breath.]

[She hears the sound of gulping, and her eyes snap up in alarm to the mirror.]

Wha...hey! Slow down, you're going to make yourself sick! I'd really rather not have to buy you more clothes because you threw up on these!

I had water in the bath. I'm fine.

[He closes the bottle and sets it to the side before going back to the bag with the socks and shoes in it. His stomach does cramp up a little as the liquid tries to settle, but he ignores it. He's not going to be sick, but he's not going to be very comfortable for the next few minutes, either.]

Not that much. Take your time.

[She glares at him, then shifts her eyes again to the cars behind them.]

[Sherlock's no longer used to someone mothering him like this, so he just gives Joan a look through the mirror. She's already looking the other way, so she probably won't notice it.]

I'm not sure what good these shoes will be if I need to do any running.

[He complains, running his finger over the arch that would be behind his heel. He'd get blisters in these. At least they're roughly the right size.]

Because searching for a decent shoe store and then finding the perfect pair of shoes is totally the best use of our time.

[The cars behind them have shifted, and one of them is taking an exit as Joan watches. She's pretty sure they're not being followed. Yet.]

[Sherlock ignores the sass, since it's not helping anything. Once he's fully dressed, he takes another few sips of Gatorade and then takes a visual sweep of all the surrounding cars. The ones behind them as well as the ones to the side and slightly ahead.

He tosses the closed up bottle and the bag of crisps over to the passenger seat floor before leaning forward. Getting to the front seat sooner rather than later is a priority. He'll give the cars nearby a show of it, but two adults in the front of a car are much more forgettable than one sitting in the back. It won't be easy because of his lankiness and weak muscles, but he's determined.]

What the...Sherlock!

[She pulls away from him and does her best to keep control of the car as he climbs into the front seat. It does veer a little side to side, but for the most part she's successful.]

This is totally unnecessary. You could have just asked me to pull over.

[Sherlock slips a little bit at one point, bumping his bum against Joan's shoulder, but it's the only mishap he has before he's able to get into the passenger seat. He's fairly winded by the time he's sitting. He gathers the Gatorade and crisps onto his lap before pulling the safety belt over his shoulder.]

This saves time.

[And, it's a way for him to prove to Joan that he's not exactly fragile. He's still weak, but he's too tenacious to let that slow him down. Much.]

[When he slips, she puts up one hand to push him away, and the car fishtails again.]

And you're going to get both of us killed!

[He settles into the seat and she gives him another glaring glance.]

Pulling over so you can get in the front seat without endangering us? Good use of our time.

You're fine. We didn't hit anyone.

[He's unconcerned as he opens up his bag of crisps and eats one, making sure to chew it thoroughly before introducing the solid food into his stomach. He holds the opened bag out toward Joan in case she'd like to eat some of them. After his 'meal,' he will probably try to take a nap.]

Okay, that was luck. We won't always be that lucky.

[He offers her the bag, and she rolls her eyes and pushes it away.]

I'll wait for the bananas, thanks.

And, you complained when I scoffed at them.

[Crisps aren't really his thing, either. Much too salty and oily, but right now he needs the calories, so he keeps eating them.]

Should have gotten trail mix.

I got granola bars. You can have some later.

[Honestly, it's like traveling with a bratty child. As exasperated as she is, though, there's part of her that has missed this. She would take this any day if it meant he was with her.]

[That gets another groan out of him.]

If you got those, then why bother with the Lays at all?

[He's especially cranky right now because he's exhausted, but reluctant to actually sleep. The truth of the matter is that he's missed Joan just as much. He's even missed how much she nags and tries to take care of him. It's just what they do.]

[Another roll of the eyes. They're getting quite the workout.]

Just shut up and eat the potato chips.

[She glances at the gas gauge. They're going to need to stop fairly soon, and probably to steal another car rather than to get gas.]

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Joan's going to have to pull the car over and hit him herself, isn't she?

It's quite possible!

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xD I can see poor Joan clutching onto the steering wheel

LOL! Sherlock should know better than to freak out the driver!

He does a lot of things he knows better than doing.

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