That's an invitation [closed]
Who: A whatsolarsystem and a yes_mother_hen , plus a police NPC. Later, a holmes_blogger .
What: The start of an investigation into the events that transpired at Class Act. ( This post for reference.)
When: The afternoon of February 15th.
Where: Class Act
Warnings: An ungodly amount of deducing will more than likely happen. Also possible warnings for descriptions of dead bodies and such.
He mustn't get his hopes up.
This entire situation he's been called to, the very beginnings of a potential investigation, all of it could be nothing more than a waste of time. There could be absolutely nothing exciting or redeeming about it; perhaps a serious bout of food poisoning was to blame, for all Sherlock knew.
Still, knowing this, he couldn't help but feel the familiar rush of excitement stemming from the potential of a murder. And an interesting one at that. Canada had been taken in for questioning, the blame in the air was unwritten but still there, and that alone had set the stage for a good unravelling of a few carefully placed lies. Oh, he hoped there would be unravelling.
But it was too early to let it show. (But it probably did. Sherlock's step was a little more eager, his gaze was ten times more scrutinizing and active. He had already taken out his gloves nestled within his coat pocket and slipped them on on the way over. There was no way Sherlock Holmes, the other Sherlock Holmes, couldn't notice his enthusiasm.)
The two detectives were accompanied by an alien police officer, someone with whom Sherlock had worked with during his stint as a police detective. They had been given permission to look over the crime scene, but at the same time were expected to work with the police. Sherlock had always held the belief that "working with the police" equated to "make sure they don't mess anything up, the idiots", but he had no room to complain. This was- or hopefully would be- an actual case.
When they reached their destination, Sherlock stepped under the familiar crime scene tape with the practice of someone who had gone through the motion many times.
"Hope they haven't already been stomping around the crime scene," he said. They of course, potentially being anyone else with the police department who happened to be in the vicinity. No doubt wrecking clues as they paraded about like a herd of cattle, he thought to himself.
What: The start of an investigation into the events that transpired at Class Act. ( This post for reference.)
When: The afternoon of February 15th.
Where: Class Act
Warnings: An ungodly amount of deducing will more than likely happen. Also possible warnings for descriptions of dead bodies and such.
He mustn't get his hopes up.
This entire situation he's been called to, the very beginnings of a potential investigation, all of it could be nothing more than a waste of time. There could be absolutely nothing exciting or redeeming about it; perhaps a serious bout of food poisoning was to blame, for all Sherlock knew.
Still, knowing this, he couldn't help but feel the familiar rush of excitement stemming from the potential of a murder. And an interesting one at that. Canada had been taken in for questioning, the blame in the air was unwritten but still there, and that alone had set the stage for a good unravelling of a few carefully placed lies. Oh, he hoped there would be unravelling.
But it was too early to let it show. (But it probably did. Sherlock's step was a little more eager, his gaze was ten times more scrutinizing and active. He had already taken out his gloves nestled within his coat pocket and slipped them on on the way over. There was no way Sherlock Holmes, the other Sherlock Holmes, couldn't notice his enthusiasm.)
The two detectives were accompanied by an alien police officer, someone with whom Sherlock had worked with during his stint as a police detective. They had been given permission to look over the crime scene, but at the same time were expected to work with the police. Sherlock had always held the belief that "working with the police" equated to "make sure they don't mess anything up, the idiots", but he had no room to complain. This was- or hopefully would be- an actual case.
When they reached their destination, Sherlock stepped under the familiar crime scene tape with the practice of someone who had gone through the motion many times.
"Hope they haven't already been stomping around the crime scene," he said. They of course, potentially being anyone else with the police department who happened to be in the vicinity. No doubt wrecking clues as they paraded about like a herd of cattle, he thought to himself.