THE SOFT OPENING

[deduction]

Art courtesy of reapersun@tumblr

What for? Who knows! Where at? Who cares! Who's paying for all this? Mycroft!!

Time for some cheer, Sherlockians! Regardless of canonpoint or verse, everyone's invited to attending a wonderful party in this beautiful chateau with drinking, nibbles, and maybe a murder or two. All dinosaurs are to be left at the door (and I mean you, Anderson). Mix, mingle, deduce which of the other guests are having affairs, discover dead bodies in the closet, hold someone hostage in the basement; as long as you're having fun, you're welcome here.




THE SMALL TEXT!
This is the official soft opening for the open Sherlock Holmes sandbox threepipeproblem. Link it to everyone, post and be merry, and pray that this works, because if it does then the whole thing will soon be open for business. AWESOME, RIGHT? GO GO GO.
And don't forget to read the rules and FAQs too.

Comments

OPEN TO ALL 8D

[deduction]

[Sherlock hadn't, strictly speaking, been invited to this party. He was neither a Lord nor a close friend of the Queen, but that hadn't stopped him.

Someone inside was responsible for the recent string of kidnappings. Sherlock knew they were male, of a certain height, smoked, and wore a toupee, and with or without help he was going to find them and bring them to justice. Queen's party be damned.]

[thatwasamazing]

[Of course Sherlock had run off without bothering to explain where he was going. He'd just given him the look and then he was off like lightning to god only knows where.

John followed as best he could - (Yet another Sherlock-provided excuse to shout the words 'follow that cab!') - but by the time they got to the party, John was immediately at a loss. There was no way there were going to let him in, and no way that he could convince them to.

Right.

He slipped away, pulling to the side about half a block down. Sherlock was obviously long inside, John just had to wait for the right moment... There, the duchess. Everyone was distracted. No one would notice as he slipped in behind them - - and straight into a party where everyone was a lot better dressed than he was. He pulled into a side room and fumbled out his telephone.

A text:]

Right. Sherlock. No thanks to you, I'm finally here. Where the hell are you?

[drugsbust]

[Technically, Lestrade hadn't been invited either. He lives in a small flat in Maida Hill, not in Kensington, and if he weren't a cop he wouldn't be setting foot Buckingham palace. Luckily for him, his badge gets him through the door.]

What the hell are we looking for, Sherlock?

OTA!

[bestprofessional]

[All in all, it wasn't that bad a night, for the annual Yard bash. Everyone who wasn't on duty got invited, everyone got a plus-one, and the big-wigs hadn't come this year because they were at a conference.

So maybe the decorations were lame and the music a bit rubbish, but that was probably just another sign he was getting old. Everyone was relaxed and the punch was good (someone had added brandy, which always made things fun) and Lestrade was ready to enjoy his night off.]

Re: OTA!

[seesobserves]

[Sherlock was here almost entirely by accident. He'd arrived at the Yard, with John, for a other reasons, but as soon as the party was discovered he'd been prepared to turn right around and head home. Almost no one here was fond of him, nor was he enamored of them, and further interaction would only enforce the lack of goodwill. Sherlock was convinced John only wanted to stay so he could flirt with that girl from HR he'd met, but there was a kernel of a good point buried in there: they were already here. Lestrade was here. Sherlock had meant to talk to Lestrade. He supposed he could talk to Lestrade at a party.

He looked as sullen as a person holding punch could.]

Detective Inspector.

[hellodiane]

[Next to him stands a man who is clearly more than relaxed. He nearly vibrates with an energy that is not nervous in the least, but a sort of active enjoyment and engagement with his environment. He holds a plastic cup of the punch, and after he takes a sip, glances down at it appreciatively.]

Nothing like punch with a little kick, is there?

[It's almost as if he can't help but acknowledge this truth to someone, to make sure that the world knew there was something right with it. His accent is American; his appearance is almost retro-clean cut, though he does not appear to feel out of place. The visiting FBI agent is simply enjoying the party.]

OTA!

[dontbeboring]

[Sherlock is not a fan of family events. Most of them he avoids. Sometimes, however, he has no choice but to show up. Tonight - Mycroft's birthday - is one of those occasions.

And so here's a very surly little brother, here against his will, sat in a corner and watching the clock.]

[myblogwonabafta]

[Much as Sherlock watches the clock, John watches Sherlock. Though he hopes with more subtlety. Well, to the common eye, anyway. He has no illusions that Sherlock hasn't noticed. And he doesn't much care.]

You know, it doesn't actually make the hands move faster.

[The thing is, he's a bit bored, too, which is why he's approached, arms crossed, to stand next to Sherlock and look out at the rest of the meager collection of party goers.]

ota!

[blogged]

[John doesn't mind these sort of parties: usually, there's an open bar and it's a lot less awkward hitting on his co-workers after a drink or two. (Not that he does it too much. It's still awkward, just less.) He takes a sip of his drink and scans the crowd again.]

[drugsbust]

[Seeing John in the crowd is a relief, even if it means that Sherlock isn't far behind. He doesn't fit in, and is sure he was only invited for some reason of Mycroft's that has not been disclosed yet. In fact, he's got his gun on him, because all he's done is assume. If Mycroft invited him without any information to do what he does best, he'll be ready. A concealed weapon, what have you come to Greg Lestrade?

Sliding into the seat next to John's he raises his drink in a toast of a hello.]

You've been dragged into this too, then?

Ota to the max

[blogging_mystery]

[ John is at the bar enjoying a pint and the goings on around him. ]

Re: Ota to the max

[improbable]

[And this is Sherlock, not enjoying a pint because John will do it for the both of them and instead he's sitting at the bar and writing furiously in his notepad about something that's far more relevant than drinking, in his professional opinion. He doesn't look up]

You'll probably want another one. They've been watering it down here for the past two months.

ota / let's get some ladies all up in this box!

[ex_striking429]

[ Irene carries around a glass of red wine, but never seems to drink from it; is it an affectation or is she simply a subtle imbiber? Who knows. This is a little more raucous than the parties she's usually found at — and significantly less raucous than the other sorts of parties she occasionally attends. Mostly everyone has their clothes on her. Even she. ]

[ Still, she mingles, with coy glances and lifted chin. She touches arms with fingers clothed in long black gloves — try taking her pulse now, Sherlock Holmes. She never smiles genuinely, but she smiles. ]

[housekeeper]

Oh, I haven't seen such lovely gloves since I was a fashionable young thing.

[ Mrs Hudson is, as usual, a wide open book: slightly wine stained teeth on full display in a genial smile, eyes dotting to and fro with curious energy, and a tongue loosened with the liberal application of her own drink. A hand flicks out to touch the black material of the gloves, just a touch over-friendly. ]

[blogging_mystery]

[ Blink. Blink. Blink. What is this with people not being dead when he's told they are dead. He takes another sip of his pint and gives her a small smile. ]

[somereliance]

[Being fashionably late is one thing, but John is pushing that envelope and then some by now.

If he looks a little lost, it's because he is. Just following the unspoken promise of a shared look across the room. He wandered after a mysterious woman, only to be left without much hope of finding his way back to the main event.]

Hello? Is anyone here?

[the_new_sexy]

[of course there is. Sherlock will appear behind him.]

Don't call out for people when you're not certain, John, you'll just draw attention to yourself.

ota

[hisdearblogger]

(ooc: hopefully this is okay for a setup >.< )


[ John had received a formal invitation in the mail - still had the invitation and envelope it came in in his pocket - and had arrived at the time that was listed on it.

However, upon entering the room he had been pointed towards, he saw it was completely empty.

There was music being played, tables were set, chairs pulled out and glasses full of various drinks but the food and drink seemed untouched, there were no musicians playing the music, no one tending to the tables (John looked out into the dimly lit hallway behind him and the person that had directed him here was gone).

The large expanse of floor just beyond the tables was made of a rich, reddish wood and, from what John could tell, looked brand new. No scuffs or scratches or other signs of having been danced on previously.

As he stepped a little further into the room, he took in the tables and there didn't seem to be an indication of people suddenly leaving in a hurry...

John looked around again, tongue flicking out to lick his lips as one hand went to pull out his cell. He frowned at how there wasn't a signal on his phone. That seemed... odd.

Suddenly the music is cut off and John looks up. He still doesn't see anyone else in the room.

Well. This was certainly becoming more disconcerting. ]

o t a.

[stayinalive]

[ hello. ]

Re: o t a.

[fathomtheleaps]

[What a pleasant surprise.]

;)

[tigerkiller]

[ Sebastian's not far behind Moriarty, naturally. Obligatory glass of Moët et Chandon in hand, he's the picture of well put-together-- Dries Van Noten (Fall 2012, black, double-breasted, not his own-- well, not chosen by him, at least) blazer et al, loafers too (loafers, for God's sake). He loiters around by the bar, and for all the pomp, he seems as shifty and suspicious as ever, eyes narrowed comically at the passers-by. ]

Took you long enough. I'm going mental. [ Mechanically, he downs the champagne, glaring over the Waterford crystal rim at the consulting criminal in question. ]

[sociallyinvisible]

J...Ji...JIM?

[Molly is baffled at seeing Moriarty in this sort of place, and in...those sort of clothes. She never took him to be a posh man, so what was the meaning of all this? There was a glint in his eye that she had never seen before. It was almost as if he'd swapped personalities with James Bond.]

What are you doing.....here?

ota.

[tigerkiller]

[ Sneaks in. Hangs around. This might not be his scene, but free champagne-- who's complaining? ]

Re: ota.

[notablewoman]

[Whereas she is perfectly comfortable. There are enough beautiful men and women to make the night interesting in the simplest of ways. Certainly no complaints here.]

Eternally late to the party - OTA

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

[Sherlock is playing his violin. On the one had it makes him the center of attention. On the other - it means he doesn't have to talk to anyone.]