#CASE 004 | THE LAVENDER LADY

[arbitratore-blog]

@bloodburial >> SECTOR FOUR >>  starter call !

on an evening when the storm clouds had overlooked much of the city and the rain had tapped endlessly upon the shutters, a scream had torn through the night. it wasn’t a subtle, playful sort often rasping from the throats of an overexcited young girl in the arms of her lover, playing tag upon the smooth streets below the apartment windows, but a scream which echoed and shook all those who heard it, a scream of a man most likely, for the deep contours of his voice did rumble the nerves quite a bit. it was just two single bursts, like a warning fire from a coastguard or a heavy knock upon an oaken door. one. two. then silence. an echoing, nervous silence. i remember the sound so well, well enough that just recalling it causes my bones to shake just a little, a partial and fleeting reminder of my own mortality. sherlock holmes, however, did not react with the sudden rise from his chair as i had, did not gaze wildly from the window, fingers pressed against the glass as if he could see through the thick fog beyond. he remained perfectly seated, fingers tented beneath his chin and bright eyes narrowed in focus. 

it was an unsettling sight, given a scream for help had just rung out. movement in the flat above suggested that we were not alone in playing audience to the noise. the sound of a window opening, doors slamming, people muttering in the garden below. we certainly were not privately privy to the occurrence. but holmes remained patient in his ways, eyes still honed in upon the table before him long after the hairs upon my neck settled themselves. i watched, sure the cogs of his mind were spinning quite feverishly. for this was not the first time such a scream had sounded so close to the building, the same awful type of scream that causes your blood to pump ever more feverishly. “ the third this week... isn’t it? “ no response. the first came but a few days prior, the second the night after that and now... the third day, we had heard another. i could only hope that come the next evening, we would not need to listen out quite so intensely for something so horrible. 

“ and you are quite certain of it? it wasn’t merely a trick of the light. an alcohol-infused daydream, perhaps? “ holmes noted down upon his pad, before glancing up to seek an answer to his question.

>>> “ yes, mr holmes. quite certain. i can still see it whenever i close my eyes... the dark, black of her eyes..... the purple of her hair... the red...oh god the red.... dripping... death.... “ 

the woman pressed her palms to her face, as if attempting to silence the vision. her body trembled like a falling autumnal leaf, drifting and shaking so violently that holmes leaned forward to push the glass of water towards her. 

“ drink. you said before that she was a little girl, yes? age unsure... but girl specifically? how curious. “ 

>>> “ yes mr. holmes, believe me, it’s the truth! “

why, it almost sounded like the plot of some americanised horror movie. a possessed girl with dark eyes, crimson blood pooling within her mouth. all that lacked was the obvious television set from which to crawl through. a rather ridiculous means of travel, but it got the message across at least. he wondered, just for a moment, whether these paranormal activities were to bother him daily. not that he didn’t enjoy debunking spooky stories conjured by mentally.... unwell, inhabitants of the city, but he sought true crime after all. not the fantasies scripted by weary souls. and yet, something about this case -- the case of the hollow-eyed girl -- struck his fancy in such a way that he leaped to his feet and brandished his pocket watch. “ eleven fourty nine was the given time, you say? the very same moment the screams shake the city! down to the minute at that! then there’s not a moment for me to spare. come now, go and return to your room and i shall offer you my final report on the morrow. come now, mrs. smith. “ 

the woman looked quite beside herself, grasping her bag and her brolly before being ushered out of the apartment suite. she went to protest, perhaps to ask whatever the detective thought would come from approaching the scene himself, but after three late night screams and now this incredible tale, he just had to see it all for himself! the terror of the sector, the mystery of the lavender lady! by the time that mrs. smith had finished her under-breath ramblings of mr. holmes’ rather ‘ rude nature ‘, the detective in question had already thread his arms through the coat, pocketed his tobacoo box and slipped his walking cane firmly within his grasp. he sped past the doorman without so much as a ‘ goodnight ‘ and sped off into the night, three clicks sounding as he went at his rushed pace. the night air was colder than usual, the splatters of rain gleaming against the thick of his coat as he went, alas he was not yet put off by the state of the crummy weather. in fact, he didn’t mind at all. 

he reached the supposed area of the sector in really no time at all, and what he found was... silence. a cruel, mocking silence which caused him to turn his head this way and that. “ damn. “ he cursed beneath his breath, the air silver before his lips. he walked towards a rather suspicious alleyway, his shoes echoing as he walked, the streetlamps glossy with their electric glow. it was only until he reached the end of the walkway, that he spied a figure misshapen and strewn upon the alley floor, like a rag doll tossed aside to lie upon her own limbs. immediately, sherlock dipped to a crouch and pressed an un-gloved finger against the man’s neck. a cold patch of skin greeted him, but a sign of life did not. “ dead. “ he reached back into his pocket for the watch, only to find his eyes narrowing at the sight. “ and yet, the time is but only eleven forty two. “ something was different, some variable had changed. no scream had sounded and something ominous hung about the air like an invisible thread, waiting to be grabbed. and yet, as holmes rose to his feet, he remained almost acutely unaware of the presence which accompanied him, the unseen other whom his eyes had yet to fall upon. 

could it be.... the lavender lady? 

[ofalvces]

- ̗̀ task 004 - this or that. 

tea or coffee ?

lace or velvet ?

wine or beer ?

flying or apparating ?

quills or pens ?

summer or winter ?

muggle music or wizard music ?

hot or iced ?

moon or stars ?

honeydukes or florean fortescue’s ice cream parlour ?

beach or mountain ?

shower or bath ?

solid or patterned ?

cuddling or kissing ?

forehead kisses or cheek kisses ?

roses or lavender ?

night or day ?

fiction or non fiction ?

transfiguration or potions ?

concert or play ?

robes or muggle clothes ?

introverted or extraverted ?

socks, slippers or barefoot ?

rose gold or bronze ?

bright or pastel colours ?

small or big house ?

library or bookshop ?

quiet or loud ?

truth or dare?

dragons or thestrals ?

thunderstorm or sunny ?

vanilla or honey scented ?

silver or gold ?

radio or newspaper ?

vocal or silent spells ?

garden or forest ?

bag or backpack ?

tea leaf reading or tarot card ?

celestina warbeck or OMEN ?

neat or messy handwriting ?

lower case or all caps ?

pancakes or crepes ?

bertie bott’s every flavour beans or chocolate frogs ?

hogsmeade or diagon alley ?

over the word count or the bare minimum ?

ghosts or werewolves ?

cloud watching or star gazing ?

countryside or city ?

witch weekly or the quibbler ?

fresh fruit or fresh flowers ?

sweet or sour ?

big spoon or little spoon ?

rooftop or balcony ?

nearly headless nick or the grey lady ?

lemon or lime ?

flobberworms or imps ?

satin or flannel ?

pearls or diamonds ?

dinosaur kid or fairytale kid ?

poetry or prose ?

cats, owls or frogs ?

[leonardoflint]

TASK #004 - THIS OR THAT

tea or coffee ? tea, with way too much sugar and some milk. honestly has a whole shelf full of teas and drinks different ones for different moods. 

lace or velvet ? lace has details and that’s all he cares about. 

wine or beer ? wine. expensive, old, from the flint estate cellar usually. 

flying or apparating ? apparating because brooms are dangerous and he hates them. 

quills or pens ? quills, like the good pureblood boy he is. they’re also just prettier. 

summer or winter ? summer is holidays in mexico, private beaches, more concerts. the weather also just makes him happier ? 

muggle music or wizard music ? never make him pick. he takes inspiration from both, intensively, and OMEN in a way really is pioneering that mixture, which muggleborns can definitely pick up on, but purebloods might still be oblivious to.

hot or iced ? hot tea !

moon or stars ? the moon is so big and pretty and the light and the poems about it and just. moon. 

honeydukes or florean fortescue’s ice cream parlour ? ice cream, ice cream, ice cream. if he says to someone that he’s bringing them somewhere, it’s def for ice cream. def has gone on at elast oen date there. ICE CREAM. 

beach or mountain ? beach boi

shower or bath ? long relaxing baths please

solid or patterned ? patterns are for braver people

cuddling or kissing ? tbh, kissing. he’s a natural cuddler but thee’s something exciting about kissing that he doesn’t get with cuddling. 

forehead kisses or cheek kisses ? cheek kisses. preferrably while both people grin. 

roses or lavender ? roses. he’s a classic. 

night or day ? the night gets him into scary mindsets, so day day day. especially early morning.

fiction or non fiction ? likes to read biographies and memoirs and just learning facts ! lil ravenclaw nerd ! 

transfiguration or potions ? potions ! he loved it so much ! everyone thought he might bcome a potioneer. he still brews a lot of stuff at home !

concert or play ? the happiness that performing live or watching others do that is beyond anything else. 

robes or muggle clothes ? robes. they’re fancy and pretty and he’s such a pureblood heir, it’s just what feels more right. has a lot of them, very detailed, very pretty, gold thread in the details, stuff like that. custom made always. 

introverted or extraverted ? introverted. his alone time keeps him sane. 

socks, slippers or barefoot ? slippers, always. 

rose gold or bronze ? rose gold, yeah. 

bright or pastel colours ? pastels always ! let him fade into the background ! he wants to look soft. 

small or big house ? big, he’s a fancy bitch. his flat is 3x the size of what he needs. 

library or bookshop ? bookshop, he NEEDS to own them all. 

quiet or loud ? quiet always. soft sounds or no sounds. 

truth or dare? dare, maybe. he’s not brave but he also can’t be honest ever so NO. 

dragons or thestrals ? thestrals are such a grim concept and he loves it ? they’re such an aesthetic. a good OMEN album cover art. 

thunderstorm or sunny ? sunny ! sun makes him happy ! 

vanilla or honey scented ? vanilla always. 

silver or gold ? gold ! fancy ! 

radio or newspaper ? radio, because you can get info AND music AND talkshows. he���s befriended a lot of the wizard radio hosts.  

vocal or silent spells ? silent. it’s just more advanced magic and makes him feel like a better wizard. 

garden or forest ? garden ! stuff in place, well organised, straight lines deciding where things are, a rationality to it all. so many OLD gardens around too, along with those old manors and stuff, he loves it. 

bag or backpack ? he’s that friend with the vintage expensive backpack because he needs to carry stuff just in case. going out for coffee?? he has a water bottle, snacks, a spare shirt, honestly anything he can believe they MIGHT need. 

tea leaf reading or tarot card ? doesn’t believe in either but at least with the leaves you get tea ! 

celestina warbeck or OMEN ? duh. 

neat or messy handwriting ? the neatest prettiest handwriting possible. 

lower case or all caps ? lower, because all caps feels aggressive. 

pancakes or crepes ? crepes, in posh tea rooms, covered in fresh fruits and honey.

bertie bott’s every flavour beans or chocolate frogs ? chocolate frogs ! he collected the cards when he was younger ! 

hogsmeade or diagon alley ? hogsmeade feels so dream like with the year-round snow and all the fun little shops and the hogwarts kids around ! so fun.

over the word count or the bare minimum ? over, always. can’t stop his words. essay ? more like prose poetry. 

ghosts or werewolves ? ghosts are such aesthetics. leo flint a friend of a lot of hogwarts ghosts ? facts. leo flint a friend of at least one old flint ghost in some secondary manor ? facts. 

cloud watching or star gazing ? clouds ! let’s go outside, to a garden, look at the sky, make up stories in it ! 

countryside or city ? there’s something too lovely about the countryside, especially if you’re rich and can just go to a large estate and have a nice quiet time there while still having every need tended to. 

witch weekly or the quibbler ? witch weekly, tragically. can’t cope with the quibbler, but finds it a little funny to stay update with all the gossip, mostly fake, about his life and of his fellow famous friends. 

fresh fruit or fresh flowers ? fresh flowers everywhere ! he grows many at home too !

sweet or sour ? sweeet. put honey or sugar on everything please. 

big spoon or little spoon ? big spoon by default. wants to protect everyone from the world. kinda needs to be the little someday. 

rooftop or balcony ? balcony, hidden away from the rest of the parties, overlooking the estates they’re on, or the city bellow. they’re also just so pretty, at least the ones he’s on, full of detaisl in teh stone or metal. 

nearly headless nick or the grey lady ? the grey lady is such a tragic awful story and it’s the stuff he writes poetry about so yeah. 

lemon or lime ? hm. 

flobberworms or imps ? at least they are useful. 

satin or flannel ? satin, satin, satin. 

pearls or diamonds ? diamonds because, like most of the justifications in this, he’s a fancy bitch. 

dinosaur kid or fairytale kid ? fairytale ! wants to hear stories about morals and pretty castles and old magic ! 

poetry or prose ? lives for poetry. 

cats, owls or frogs ? owls are just so majestic.