threepipeproblem | THE SOFT OPENING

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THE SOFT OPENING

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.

Threaded | Flat

[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.]

[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.]

[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.]

[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.]

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

[ 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. ]

[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?

(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. ]

[ hello. ]

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

[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.]

Threaded | Flat

OPEN TO ALL 8D

OTA!

OTA!

ota!

Ota to the max

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

no subject

ota

o t a.

ota.

Eternally late to the party - OTA