{10} - The Adventure of the Second Return
[Voice Post]
((A long silence broken only by the sound of footsteps of the City in the background. Then, a man's voice, English accented, distinctive, and perhaps it is familiar. He's found the Network device there on the bench beside him and, after a bit of fumbling and trying to remember the details, has managed to turn it on again.))
This contraption again.
I find myself unexpectedly between a carousel and a fountain, not at all at the station where I last found myself to be and I know I shall never get to Paris as I intended at this rate. First the delay on the line, and now...this.
If this is, truly, the spectacularly unoriginally named 'City' as it appears to be, given that only a very few cities that I have visited have such carousels and fountains--not to mention equally colourful residents--then I know shall not get to Paris as I intended for some time.
And here I had intended to escape my lethargy.
((Another long pause. The bench creaks and footsteps follow.))
((A very long and frustrated sigh.))
I suppose the flat is still there as ever.
[//voice post ends]
[ooc: The return of Sherlock Holmes. He's once again on that bench in the City square, with a Gladstone bag and a foggy (but clearing) memory. Give him a moment and he'll remember you all. This time I think he was grabbed from a train station somewhere in France (why not?).]
((A long silence broken only by the sound of footsteps of the City in the background. Then, a man's voice, English accented, distinctive, and perhaps it is familiar. He's found the Network device there on the bench beside him and, after a bit of fumbling and trying to remember the details, has managed to turn it on again.))
This contraption again.
I find myself unexpectedly between a carousel and a fountain, not at all at the station where I last found myself to be and I know I shall never get to Paris as I intended at this rate. First the delay on the line, and now...this.
If this is, truly, the spectacularly unoriginally named 'City' as it appears to be, given that only a very few cities that I have visited have such carousels and fountains--not to mention equally colourful residents--then I know shall not get to Paris as I intended for some time.
And here I had intended to escape my lethargy.
((Another long pause. The bench creaks and footsteps follow.))
((A very long and frustrated sigh.))
I suppose the flat is still there as ever.
[//voice post ends]
[ooc: The return of Sherlock Holmes. He's once again on that bench in the City square, with a Gladstone bag and a foggy (but clearing) memory. Give him a moment and he'll remember you all. This time I think he was grabbed from a train station somewhere in France (why not?).]