(no subject)

[alldeduction]

WHO:  Sherlock Holmes and OPEN
WHERE: Sherlock's lab at Rossum
WHEN: Uh lots of different times in the last week up until a couple days from now
WARNINGS: powers on display...? Sherlock being a dick. probably some violence and dead bodies.
SUMMARY: Follow up to this post, Sherlock is running some tests
FORMAT: Whatever you want, bbs.



Sherlock had made very sure he was going to be very, very busy, but he was well prepared. He'd outfitted his lab with as much equipment as he could possibly think to need, and even managed to find some extra space for the more - well - explosive tests.

All he had to do was wait for the participants to arrive.

Ah, and make sure he had plenty of cash on hand.




[Tag in with the time of your test, and make sure to mention if you want it just one on one, or if anyone else is invited!]

Comments

5/1; tuesday evening; interruptions okay

[dragony]

Yesterday sucked. It was the lightest way to put the matter, and for the heaviness of her heart she had spent a long while considering not coming at all. Jaime, and Eridan...

But life in the City would march on, whether she was prepared for it or not. A night and a morning were long enough to spend wallowing in bad life choices, and crying for expecting anything better than what happened; life marched on.

And so Tuesday evening, a young woman of somewhat unusual appearance arrived at the scene. A little too casual in one place, a little too sheltered in another, it was a strange combination. Too-short jean shorts were too optimistic for the warmth of spring, Sleeved shirt extending to her neck, down to her wrists, seemed resigned to winter. Gloves covered her hands. A patch covered her eye. Green hair hung in her face, which showed no signs of her prior weakness.

Quiet, and with her hands folded behind her back, Ruka waited, looking far too casual for someone expecting to be blasted by a machine gun.

[alldeduction]

He noticed as soon as she stepped in, of course, hunched over his laptop and typing away he took a moment before he finally looked up, and offered a very practiced smile.

"Ruka." As happened whenever someone walked into a room, tiny hovering white notes sprang into being - noting the eye patch, the clothes (brand, wear, type, stains, the bizarre seasonal discrepancy), the gloves. The hair (natural - not dyed). Every note, however, was completely encrypted. He'd long since allowed people to read them.

He gestured into the lab. "Do you require any preliminary set up? Requests, etc?" Never one for small talk, he was cutting to the chase. "I did as you previously asked, and I have a large variety of weaponry for this evening."

[dragony]

The return greeting came with a short bow of her head. "Mister Holmes."

Ruka crossed the room with muted curiosity, turning her attention this way and that to take in the whole lab. There was more motion there to compensate for the loss of the one eye, of course, but the rest of her form was restrained. An economy of movement, of measuring just how much energy any one motion or gesture would take before making it, so practiced as to be subconscious in execution.

"We can start with the flashy stuff, I think. It should be easier to measure."

Ruka stopped there, turning. "You wouldn't happen to have a blindfold or anything like that, would you?"

5/1, afternoon

[backstabbing]

So there had been a slim chance that Isabela had been lying about having powers to show off. Even if that were the case (which it was), it was true to her nature, being a pirate and whatnot. A man had offered coin, and while she had been earning some money on the side, who was she to pass up a golden opportunity to make even more? Even if paper currency was far less satisfying than the currency used in Thedas. A jingle in your pocket was a lot better than not hearing anything at all as far as Isabela was concerned.

But in any case, here she was, dressed in her usual attire with two daggers strapped to her back and a load of roguish tricks up her sleeve. And if she couldn't trick him into thinking she had these so-called "super powers" maybe she'd just...take what she believes is hers.

That sounded fair enough.

5/1, afternoon

[alldeduction]

He was waiting - deep in thought, surrounded by hundreds of notes, floating like a holographic HUD around him, flickering faster than most could follow and entirely encrypted. At the sound behind him, however, his thoughts winked immediately out of existence and he turned. Ah yes.

"Isabella." The new habit of the comm to put names to every face and voice and text was indescribably useful. Even text took little effort to match a face to, and - of course - it was undeniable easier when one was expected - all it took was process of elimination.

He extended and arm and gestured for her to enter the room.

"Will you require any equipment to demonstrate?"

4/28, Saturday night, no interruptions please!

[comesback]

[Jack had arrived somewhat the worse for wear after a night spent on the town with Isabela. Granted, it was very difficult to tell, but he probably still smelt of smoke and booze mixed with those very interesting pheromones of his. At least he was on time, but that was easy enough, considering he rarely (if ever) slept.]

[alldeduction]

[His night, of course, was painted all over Jack like a story book, and that was what Sherlock picked up first, as he looked up when Jacked walked in, the tell-tale white notes reading out the changes since he had last seen the man.

He stood, walked over, waving an arm inside.]

Welcome to my lab, Jack. Will I need to lay out the plastic sheeting? [His voice was chipper - the word messy had been well enough of a tell to keep Sherlock's interest high.]

5/6, Afternoon. Interruptions okay!

[backatthehotel]

Pink had debated about offering himself up for this. Information was power in the City, it seemed. And Sherlock was collecting a lot of it, here. But he wanted to know the extent of his powers, maybe find out some applications he hadn't considered, even. (And pick up a little cash in the bargain.) And what his powers were was already pretty public. So... sure, okay. Take the plunge, deal with any consequences later.

He's on time to the lab, even. Bundling away his mp3 player, and letting his headphones (studio quality, of course) hang round his neck. As almost a matter of stubborn principle (whatever the hell principle that would be) he's wearing his favourite pair of boots, the soles clicking sharp on the lab floor.

"Hullo. Floyd."

[alldeduction]

Sherlock is well dressed as always, and never in proper lab gear - the suit perfectly cut and the dress shirt a little too tight. He had been sitting at the floor, white notes in front of him, idling scrolling through the data he'd collected so far, but turned his eyes up to Floyd as he stepped in. The notes winked out only to reappear around Floyd - marking everything, a dozen tiny deductions, all carefully encoded so only Sherlock could read them. He stood.

"I know who you are." And he did. He offered a well practiced smile as he stepped up. "Sherlock Holmes." He didn't offer his hand, instead using it to wave to the other side of the room, where there was a door. "The sound equipment is through here."

Wednesday morning, interruptions okay

[conquerorking]

As promised, Alexander would arrive in front of Sherlock's lab promptly at dawn. What was less expected, perhaps, was that rather than any other sane form of transportation, he was riding a tremendous war-horse. Said war-horse was the finest steed imaginable, a charger of unmatched quality. Of course she had to be, to carry the seven-foot giant that rode her.

"As promised, I have come for these tests!" He gave a mighty bellow, ignoring simple conventions such as knocking on the damn door. "You who wishes to see my power, come forth quickly!"

[alldeduction]

He was well inside when the bellow came from without - so he walked to the window and opened it with a very annoyed expression and looked down. He was about to yell something probably incinderary, when he saw the horse. ... Well.

"Yes, yes, a moment!" He yelled instead, disappearing back inside. He reappeared again from the door instead, walking out with a frown and a calculating look. Tiny white notes, as always, started to pop up around the individual (and the horse) under scrutiny - taking in every detail but unreadable to anyone save himself.

"Is the horse a part of the production or merely transport?" He asked with a trace of amusement.

5/4 Early afternoon until she gets kicked out | Come crash bros

[aggressiveapathy]

[April didn't need to be told twice on how to skip an afternoon at work in order to earn more doing nothing somewhere else. After giving Terry strict orders to take at least two naps before she got back on Monday, April wandered over to the testing facility.

Her and a hoard of happily chattering raccoons.]

/CHILLING WITH HER HOMIE

[mutelunatic]

[while not entirely thrilled with the idea of entering a testing facility (can you blame her, I mean...seriously now), Chell had tagged along not exactly having anything better to do.

the raven sitting on her shoulder wasn't exactly thrilled by the chattering raccoons, but he had come along for the ride, reciting quotes from Moby Dick and old Greek mythology in a sort of birdy protest.

but hey the two of them with their animal companions made for an...interesting pair.]

4/29 Sunday Evening - interruptions okay

[imwotchingyou]

[ BANG!

That sound? No, it's not a car backfiring or a gun being fired. That is the sound of Tonks apparating onto the other side of Sherlock's front door at precisely six o'clock. ]

Oi! Sherlock! I'm here.

[ She is not sorry either. ]

[alldeduction]

[The bang was loud enough to make him jump - though luckily he was far enough from the door that Tonks wouldn't see that.]

Is that really necessary? [He called out before walking around the corner to meet her.]

I didn't hear the door open.

Friday morning, 5/4. No interruptions.

[goryteller]

[Katurian combs his hair for the occasion. He irons his shirt.

It surprises him, but when he arrives, he isn't trembling at all.]

[alldeduction]

[Sherlock never looked anything less than perfect (at least, when he left the house), and was immaculate as always as Katurian walked into the lab. He stood, tiny white notes flickering into being as he noted the changes, and then quickly flickering out.]

Katurian Katurian. [He gestured inside.]

Will you need any equipment?

I FORGET MAN.

[futureleader]

[Eventually, Quentin finds the lab at Rossum and managed to make his way in. He's quite content with himself. Money and a sworn oath that Sherlocks wouldn't share any of his findings. And if Sherlock did, he would solemnly find a way to punch that bastard in the fact and put him on a mental loop. About cats.]

Knock knock?

NO WORRIES

[alldeduction]

[Sherlock was midway through a very elaborate thought process when the voice took him from his reverie - all of which was displayed in heavily encrypted notes floating by his head. They disappeared immediately.]

In! Come in. [He turned to look for his guest.] Ah, Quentin. Good. You won't need any extra equipment, I suspect?

5/2 Afternoon

[plays_with_dolls]

[Boyd wouldn't be much of an employer if he didn't check in on his employees occasionally. Especially those involved in such important research.]

Afternoon, Mr. Holmes. How go the tests so far?

[alldeduction]

[It had been a long time since Sherlock had needed a computer in the lab - sitting on a stool with his feet propped up on the counter as his thoughts hung projected around him like a holographic HUD. He looked up at the sound of his employer's voice, and the notes winked out of existence as his mind was tuned elsewhere.]

Good. [He even sounded relatively cheerful.] A tad... unexpected, but good. Plenty of data. It will take some time to make any clear connections, but...

after everybody else coming and going!

[hacktivist]

Ghost drifted in uninvited, noiseless and unperturbed, at the tail end of the acceptable time to meet Sherlock and display powers, skimming the room to determine it empty.

He touched nothing, poised suspended in the rough middle of the lab with fingers splayed outstretched, momentarily lost in his own thoughts. Then his arms dropped to his sides and he made a soft noise in his throat to announce himself.

"How did it go?"

[alldeduction]

Sherlock was standing in the middle of the room (with the lights turned off), surrounded by his thoughts in floating, shimmering form. Notes upon notes upon notes, even now completely encrypted - he'd learned to think in his own symbolic language rather than English and now it was easier - floating in space, giving off their own pale glow as the room's only real source of light. He didn't seem to notice Ghost at all until the man cleared his throat, and as Sherlock looked up to the source the lights began to wink out. Only one remained, after the rest had gone, and it read in English: Lightswitch. It stayed there until he took a few steps to his left and hit it, knowing where it was in the dark. The fluorescent lights slowly blinked back on.

"Ghost. I wasn't expecting anyone." The deep baritone was low and even, and he crossed over to one of the stools and took a seat, leaning backwards against the counter with an elbow. "Good. Good, I think. Not entirely what I expected and still too early to draw any conclusions."

we'll say 5/5 afternoon?

[nottheanswers]

[Sherlock was investigating imPort powers, so something specifically granted by that method should be right up his alley, Vic figures. He even brings his own blindfold, folded up in his pocket in case it's needed.]

[alldeduction]

[Sherlock was busy working - which for him meant standing and gesturing at notes as they floated by, but they disappeared as Vic walked in.]

Vic. It's been a while. [He smirked as he turned, little white notes appearing around the man and noting any changes from the last time they'd met - all completely in Sherlock's odd symbol encryption.]