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

[hellodiane]

Well...

[Cooper grins at him, looking every inch the boy scout.]

You don't get a temporary transfer to Scotland Yard by telling tales out of school.

[seesobserves]

[Sherlock gives Lestrade a look that says, 'With this crowd?']

He's attempting to chat up that new girl from Human Resources. Elsie. [He checks his watch.] I'll give him two more minutes. By then he'll either have got her number or put her off entirely.

[drugsbust]

Right, because there's really going to be anyone at this party with a patches jacket, besides maybe, maybe the two of us.

[improbable]

I don't see the point of bothering. [That and maybe he likes having a flatmate to fuss over him but he'll insist that isn't the case and he's managed fine before John Watson before anyone asks, thank you.]

Healthy. Healthy is this, according to you. [He holds up the glass, swirling it. John knows him too well - he was less than a second from suggesting they get back to work on the Blue Strangler case.]

[ex_striking429]

[ Irene seems to look straight through him, but she wends her web of conversation around him until she, seemingly coincidentally, is talking with her back to him, to a stuffy older gentleman. And then she turns, gives her own smile. ]

Fancy seeing you here.

[ What she actually means is, fancy seeing you here alone. ]

[blogged]

I dunno, I suppose it's possible a literature professor from the 1950s could pop in. They like parties too.

[blogging_mystery]

[ John's eyebrows creep up and over his beer glass as he takes a sip. ] On occasion yes. Not doing it everyday, going out is very healthy, better then covering your self with nicotine patches, and pacing the flat.

[ john sets his pint down taking his time as he did with the first. John gives Sherlock a slightly amused look. ] Just because we are not working the case doesn't mean we can not talk about it, or you can't talk at me about it. [ He chuckles. ]

[blogging_mystery]

[ John swallows and takes a slow sip of his beer. ] I have been known to leave my flat on occasion, not like 'm a shut in.

[improbable]

The patches do what they're supposed to. So does pacing. Everyone should try pacing, might stop them from asking stupid questions if they did.

[But apparently John is one of the few, if only, people to be able to drag him out of the flat and "go out", as pointless as he might personally think it is. John can be oddly persuasive now and then. Sherlock hasn't quite figured out how]

If we talked about the case, I'd probably have figured it out and then we'd be back to the beginning: no cases, and I'll have to tell you that your Saturday night date won't be showing up no matter how often you text her.

[Sherlock thinks he's being reasonable. This is the only case they have between them, so it's like...well. He supposes it's almost like savoring it while it lasts]

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. ]

[blogging_mystery]

One patch would do what it's supposed to do, you abuse them.

Considering you just told me what you didn't want to tell me. [ He huffs slipping his phone back in his pocket. ] Why don't we just talk about the blue strangler then. [ he takes a slightly disgruntled sip of he drink ]

It's okay to go a day or two with out a case you know.

[improbable]

It's motor oil, John. [Stubbornly] Something to lubricate what's up here. [Points at the side of his head]

[That's the danger of having a bored-out-of-his skull Sherlock - he starts going through your things, such as your texts. Anything at all to alleviate the dullness. It was all fairly obvious about the date anyway (at least to him)]

For someone like you, maybe. [Sherlock nurses his drink, glancing over it at his flatmate, pursing his lips] Fine. So you have Saturday evening off, "unexpectedly". Morgue or latest victim's house?

[ex_striking429]

No, of course, I'm sure you're very social.

[ Is she patronizing him? Very slightly. But she smiles. ]

Are you here by yourself, Mr. Watson?

o t a.

[stayinalive]

[ hello. ]

[blogging_mystery]

It's not motor oil... it's junk, it might be cut with motor oil for all you know though. [ he gives Sherlock a cold stare.] It will do more harm to you mind then good.

[ yes his plans where "unexpectedly" canceled but sometimes John thought Sherlock scared his girlfriends way on purpose ]

lastest victims house i suppose.

[improbable]

[Sherlock only waves his hand at the idea of this hurting him long-term]

Nicotine patches are more or less harmless. It's not -- [He's about to cite either smoking or cocaine, his old favorites for focus, when he catches John giving him that John Watson, I'm the doctor here look. John's very good at it.]

Anyway, the house. Still have your cane? Bring it.

[blogging_mystery]

Yes... I still have the cane. [ he nods, he couldn't really bring himself to get rid of it, a reminder, a reminder of something, maybe how far he's come? He's not sure. He takes a long sip of his pint. ] What do we have so far on the case?

[blogging_mystery]

My date canceled, Sherlock is up to one of his experiments again in the flat... I needed oxygen that is actually breathable for humans.

[drugsbust]

Not these kinds of parties. [He chuckles at the joke though, taking another sip of his drink.] I'm thinking that if we're not told what the hell we're doing here within an hour, I'm going to go find a pub.

[improbable]

Excellent. [It's not surprising. John isn't a stranger to small sentiments like that and it could be a coping thing. The only thing that's surprising is John's kept it someplace where even Sherlock can't find it]

A blue smudge on each of the victims, severe trauma to the neck, no missing valuables. So far no relation between gender, age, or occupations.

Re: o t a.

[fathomtheleaps]

[What a pleasant surprise.]

[blogged]

And I'm going to go with you.

[He lifts as high as he can, looking for Sherlock over the crowd.]

Sherlock can take a bloody cab home by himself.

[myblogwonabafta]

Not this cake. It's special.

[John is reaching, of course, because as annoying as Mycroft's little jabs are and his stupid secret rendezvous, John would much prefer the brothers got on a bit better.]

Why are there so many people here, anyway? I didn't know Mycroft actually liked anyone.

[dontbeboring]

He doesn't. But a lot of people want him to.

[Fine, he'll stay. But he's not moving from this corner.]

[blogging_mystery]

So not really enough to get anywhere tangible. [ He nods. ] Unless you've already figured out... maybe they had place in common?