5th Case: [Video]
[The Guide turns on, and it's Holmes-- yes, he's no longer in hiding because: a) he's no longer under the effects of the drug, and b) his employer has deemed it necessary to drag the morose detective out of his room to get his damn work done. Obviously, Holmes is not thrilled with this development, but hey, that's life.
The view of the camera shifts, and it moves so that more of Holmes is in view. He's in his usual attire, save for...the rather ridiculously large Santa-hat that's perched on his head like a floppy red monstrosity. Once again, Holmes doesn't look too thrilled by this. At all.
And he moves towards the nearest door, knocking and waiting until an alien opens it.]
Hello?
[His expression completely deadpan, Holmes reaches inside the big sack that he's got slung over his shoulder, taking out a wrapped present and brandishing it with the theatrical air of someone who scorns what he's doing.]
Happy Holidays to you, my good man, from...
[He tries to read the name on the tag, thinks twice, and abandons the idea. He tosses the package to the alien, reaching inside his pocket now for that customary pipe of his. Lord, does he need a smoke.]
Jolly Saint Nicholas. Good day.
[Holmes turns to leave, heading towards the next door. And the feed cuts off.]
((OOC: Feel free to be the next person to receive a gift from Holmes, or to generally just laugh at his predicament!))
The view of the camera shifts, and it moves so that more of Holmes is in view. He's in his usual attire, save for...the rather ridiculously large Santa-hat that's perched on his head like a floppy red monstrosity. Once again, Holmes doesn't look too thrilled by this. At all.
And he moves towards the nearest door, knocking and waiting until an alien opens it.]
Hello?
[His expression completely deadpan, Holmes reaches inside the big sack that he's got slung over his shoulder, taking out a wrapped present and brandishing it with the theatrical air of someone who scorns what he's doing.]
Happy Holidays to you, my good man, from...
[He tries to read the name on the tag, thinks twice, and abandons the idea. He tosses the package to the alien, reaching inside his pocket now for that customary pipe of his. Lord, does he need a smoke.]
Jolly Saint Nicholas. Good day.
[Holmes turns to leave, heading towards the next door. And the feed cuts off.]
((OOC: Feel free to be the next person to receive a gift from Holmes, or to generally just laugh at his predicament!))