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

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.

[bestprofessional]

[This is a surprise, and Lestrade isn't shy in showing it.] What the hell are you doing here? Please tell me someone hasn't offed themselves. Not tonight.

[seesobserves]

God, no. Everybody here is far too cheerful. [Or they're faking cheer to cover up for some family or other personal social crisis, but nothing as exciting as a death. Sherlock could describe every one in detail, though, Lestrade, if you'd like.

He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a plastic baggie, which he hands over. Inside are flecks of skin.]

A bit more evidence for the Talbot case. I noticed you were stuck.

[Even though it's a case Sherlock hasn't been called in on. Even though the police have been giving every indication to the media that they're on the right track. Perhaps Lestrade even believes they are.]

[bestprofessional]

The Talbot- [One day Greg will stop being surprised by Sherlock. Today, it seems, is not that day.] How on earth do you- [Oh, right. Party.

He lowers his voice, scowling.] That investigation is police only, Sherlock. And we're going just fine.

[seesobserves]

Don't take it, then.

[There's a smile threatening to start at one corner of his mouth. Still holding out the bag, by the way.]

[bestprofessional]

[He scowls, but looks furtively around to make sure no one's paying attention to them. The bag quickly dissapears into his jacket.] You'll have to come in later to fill some things in.

[Technically only if the evidence was going to be pivotal to the case. Greg had no doubt it would be. It doesn't make him any happier about it.]

[seesobserves]

[The smile ticks into place. It dials back but doesn't disappear as he turns to watch the crowd.]

Naturally, once everybody else is finished having their fun. ['Everybody else,' operative words. Sherlock takes a sip of punch and -- ah. There's John, and he's found the HR girl. Hope you're getting a proper flirt in, Doctor, because Sherlock will be ready to leave any second now.]

[bestprofessional]

You might as well have some too, now you're here.

[He raises his glass to Sherlock and has a sip.] Did John come down too, or-?

[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.

[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.]

[bestprofessional]

Don't let the tea thing fool you. We like our kicks just as much as you Yanks.

[Greg's smile is easy. While he wasn't supposed to have had much to to with the agent, he'd found the man a refreshing change from most of the other stodgy British ops.] If you're able to keep a secret, I might even show you where we keep some of the confiscated stuff.

[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.