Visiting the Dear Detective...
Who: Count D, and the residents of 221 Baker Street
What: House calls from Dr. DooLittle
When: Tea time!
Where: The Sherlock/Neil/Bod Residence
Rating: Low
Status: Closed / Incomplete
"Are we really going out, Count?"
These clothes are stupid!
"Jun-Rei, that's not nice..."
Three voices chimed from behind an ornately painted changing screen in the apartment above the pet shop as Count D bustled with a heavy wicker basket, filling it to the brim with cakes and pastries; scones and red bean cakes, lotus seed and green tea. Even knowing the dear detective refused to each while "working" coming empty handed would be the height of improper. At the very top of the basket he place a handful of cut-out newspaper articles, dated earlier in the spring. Things in town had been quiet, but D couldn't speak for elsewhere, which was the entire reason he was planning this little excursion. He needed to bring certain developments to Sherlock's attention, if the detective hadn't caught them first.
"We don't want to dawdle, Honlon." D said, closing the basket lid and sliding a clasp into place to keep it shut. "Jun-Rei, I don't care what you think of the clothes, they were all I had." It was a shame really, but the only clothes D had were a set that Chris had left there, a pale yellow t-shirt and jean shorts, which thanks to a belt, didn't fit the girl too awkwardly. She stepped out from behind the screen somewhat resignedly, huffing, with arms crossed over her tiny chest.
To D's credit, she almost looked perfectly normal. Even her hair, normally ornately coiffed was drawn up high in two simple, thick black braids. Fussing only a moment with how the t-shirt lay over her shoulders, D handed her a pair of sunglasses.
"If people look at you a certain way, the contacts may not hide your eyes, it'll be best to conceal them until we're indoors." He said, pausing before he gathered the basket on the table. "Oh, and remember, only one of you is to speak when we arrive. Shuko--
"Why does she always get to talk when we're out in public?!" Jun-Rei protested.
"This is the first time you have been in public, Jun-Rei, and consistency is important if I'm going to pass you as a normal human girl. Shuko will speak, is that understood?"
"Yes Count D." All three voices chimed at once in a rare moment of unity. D nodded. Good.
The walk to the Baker Street house was more painless than D expected. Granted, "painless" still involved grabbing Honlon twice by her braids to keep her from running off, but by the time they found themselves at the top of three quaint little steps, she had more or less calmed. Taking a deep breath and smoothing one hand over the soft cotton cheongsam he wore, D tapped on the door with a brightly painted set of nails and waited.
What: House calls from Dr. DooLittle
When: Tea time!
Where: The Sherlock/Neil/Bod Residence
Rating: Low
Status: Closed / Incomplete
"Are we really going out, Count?"
These clothes are stupid!
"Jun-Rei, that's not nice..."
Three voices chimed from behind an ornately painted changing screen in the apartment above the pet shop as Count D bustled with a heavy wicker basket, filling it to the brim with cakes and pastries; scones and red bean cakes, lotus seed and green tea. Even knowing the dear detective refused to each while "working" coming empty handed would be the height of improper. At the very top of the basket he place a handful of cut-out newspaper articles, dated earlier in the spring. Things in town had been quiet, but D couldn't speak for elsewhere, which was the entire reason he was planning this little excursion. He needed to bring certain developments to Sherlock's attention, if the detective hadn't caught them first.
"We don't want to dawdle, Honlon." D said, closing the basket lid and sliding a clasp into place to keep it shut. "Jun-Rei, I don't care what you think of the clothes, they were all I had." It was a shame really, but the only clothes D had were a set that Chris had left there, a pale yellow t-shirt and jean shorts, which thanks to a belt, didn't fit the girl too awkwardly. She stepped out from behind the screen somewhat resignedly, huffing, with arms crossed over her tiny chest.
To D's credit, she almost looked perfectly normal. Even her hair, normally ornately coiffed was drawn up high in two simple, thick black braids. Fussing only a moment with how the t-shirt lay over her shoulders, D handed her a pair of sunglasses.
"If people look at you a certain way, the contacts may not hide your eyes, it'll be best to conceal them until we're indoors." He said, pausing before he gathered the basket on the table. "Oh, and remember, only one of you is to speak when we arrive. Shuko--
"Why does she always get to talk when we're out in public?!" Jun-Rei protested.
"This is the first time you have been in public, Jun-Rei, and consistency is important if I'm going to pass you as a normal human girl. Shuko will speak, is that understood?"
"Yes Count D." All three voices chimed at once in a rare moment of unity. D nodded. Good.
The walk to the Baker Street house was more painless than D expected. Granted, "painless" still involved grabbing Honlon twice by her braids to keep her from running off, but by the time they found themselves at the top of three quaint little steps, she had more or less calmed. Taking a deep breath and smoothing one hand over the soft cotton cheongsam he wore, D tapped on the door with a brightly painted set of nails and waited.