[ Voice ]/[ Action ]

[theblogger]

Alright. For future reference, talking animals should be a topic addressed when dealing with new-comers. Less important one, yeah, but still worth an honorable mention, I think.

[ A shift here to a musing tone, but anyone who understands the concept of sarcasm is in for a treat. ]

Kidnapped by unseen, malevolent forces, trapped to live in a village in the middle of nowhere with no means of escape, vulnerable to torture, don't fuss with the wings, everything's free... Talking animals.

I just had a squirrel panhandle me for crisps.

Are there any other things I should be prepared to converse with? Are the appliances keeping tabs on what we're getting up to?

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Player Name: Effy
Are you new?: Yes! Please love me ;;
Character Name: John Watson
Character Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)

Comments

[ written ]

[notquiteheartless]

[It's worth a shot:]

Cigarettes?

[ written ]

[theblogger]

You're doing really well.

[ written ]

[notquiteheartless]

Fine.

[It shouldn't be hard to guess that he's sulking.

But not badly. He's not desperate yet.]

E string. If they have one. Never know if one might show up. Mine has about two days left before it breaks.

[ written ]

[theblogger]

[ John knows that smoking is probably an eventuality he's going to have to tolerate again. Honestly, he can't much blame the man. But if they can find something worthwhile before things come to drastic measures, it'll be better. ]

I'll look.

[ And if he can't find it, he'll ask after it. Least he can do. ]

Come home with an appetite.

[ written ]

[notquiteheartless]

[Poor John. In what world does Sherlock Holmes eat?]

Maybe.

Spying tends to be filling, though.

[Patience and perseverance, and he's at least admitted what he's up to.]

[ written ] [ locked 80% ]

[theblogger]

He's been contacting me, you know.

[ written ] [ locked 80% ]

[notquiteheartless]

I'm keeping an eye on him.

Watch your back. Just in case.

[ written ] [ locked 80% ]

[theblogger]

What about you?

[ written ] [ locked 80% ]

[notquiteheartless]

He won't do anything to me.

After all, what would he do if I weren't around?

[ written ] [ locked 80% ]

[theblogger]

Not much. I'd

Anything he wanted. Wasn't that the point?

[ written ] [ locked 80% ]

[notquiteheartless]

He'd be even more bored than he already is.

I'm not the one he'd go after.

[It's so much easier to write it. No telling glance, no worried gesture. It can be what it ought to be, or what Sherlock tells himself it ought to be. A simple statement.]

[ written ] [ locked 80% ]

[theblogger]

[ His expression stays cool, though his wings do rustle ever so gently beneath his jacket. ]

So far as I can tell, he's alone. I'm not afraid of those odds.

Better if it was two against the one, though.

[ written ] [ locked 80% ]

[notquiteheartless]

Violin strings do make excellent garottes.

[He'll let John decide how serious he is.]

[ written ] [ locked 80% ]

[theblogger]

:)

What's he doing?

[ written ] [ locked 80% ]

[notquiteheartless]

Sitting in a coffee shop, writing.

Knows I'm here, definitely.

[ written ] [ locked 80% ]

[theblogger]

What's the point if he knows you're watching?

[ written ] [ locked 80% ]

[notquiteheartless]

Because he knows he's being watched.

He can't come and go as he pleases. He's not invisible.

[ written ] [ locked 80% ]

[theblogger]

Seems like you've made your point, then. Come home.

[ Moriarty's message has unnerved him a bit ]

[ written ] [ locked 80% ]

[notquiteheartless]

Lock up. [The writing is a bit darker. A harder press of the pen. Obvious. And Sherlock chides himself for it. Yet, he doesn't wait long to resume writing.] Every door. Every window.

Don't wait up.

[ written ] [ locked 80% ]

[theblogger]

Come home or I'm coming after you.

[ This writing is hasty in its slant. Don't you fucking dare. ]

[ written ] [ locked 80% ]

[notquiteheartless]

Stay put.

[ written ] [ locked 80% ]

[theblogger]

On my way.

[ written ] [ locked 80% ]

[notquiteheartless]

Damn it! John! I said stay put.

[And now, not even the writing can hide the thoughts behind the words.]

[ written ] [ locked 80% ]

[theblogger]

And I said come home. I'll meet you halfway.

[ There's some jumbling to his words and they come slow. Someone who makes an art of observation would very certainly be able to tell that the writer was walking rather than meandering. And walking quite fast. ]

[ written ] [ locked 80% ]

[notquiteheartless]

You are an idiot. An absolute idiot.

Go back to the flat. Now.