Lord Peter Has a Drink (and others are invited to join)
((OOC: Anyone who has not been zapped by Eros is welcome to join Lord Peter for a drink in the Ravenclaw common room. Lovestruck folks can join in too, to annoy the singletons.))
Despite not having yet been officially sorted, Lord Peter Wimsey found himself settling in comfortably in Ravenclaw House. The place and the people in it seemed largely to his taste, and he felt generally content.
But not having Bunter around was something of an inconvenience -- and truly, he did miss Harriet. Especially given the nature of the day. He had sent her a letter liberally sprinkled with French and with poetry, and he was confident that he would receive an equally entertaining missive in return, but it simply was not the same.
And so, as many a gentleman has done since the beginning of time, Lord Peter had chosen to alleviate his loneliness with a fine glass of sherry. He was vaguely aware of a multitude of billets-doux, flowers, and other tokens changing hands, although he was not yet sufficiently familiar with the individuals involved as to recognise the strangeness at work. He leaned back in the comfortable overstuffed chair near the common room's fireplace, sipped his wine, and pondered his surroundings.
Edit:
He noted a faint cordite scent in the air, which probably had something to do with the noise he'd overheard earlier -- and with the initials now marked out in bullet-holes in the wall. He had missed the event itself, being engaged with locating the appropriate bottle of sherry. Strange, but no less strange than some of the other events and people of the last few days; and in any case, hadn't the great Holmes himself been known to pockmark his study wall in fits of boredom?
He did not particularly notice the gunslinger lurking in the corner.
Despite not having yet been officially sorted, Lord Peter Wimsey found himself settling in comfortably in Ravenclaw House. The place and the people in it seemed largely to his taste, and he felt generally content.
But not having Bunter around was something of an inconvenience -- and truly, he did miss Harriet. Especially given the nature of the day. He had sent her a letter liberally sprinkled with French and with poetry, and he was confident that he would receive an equally entertaining missive in return, but it simply was not the same.
And so, as many a gentleman has done since the beginning of time, Lord Peter had chosen to alleviate his loneliness with a fine glass of sherry. He was vaguely aware of a multitude of billets-doux, flowers, and other tokens changing hands, although he was not yet sufficiently familiar with the individuals involved as to recognise the strangeness at work. He leaned back in the comfortable overstuffed chair near the common room's fireplace, sipped his wine, and pondered his surroundings.
Edit:
He noted a faint cordite scent in the air, which probably had something to do with the noise he'd overheard earlier -- and with the initials now marked out in bullet-holes in the wall. He had missed the event itself, being engaged with locating the appropriate bottle of sherry. Strange, but no less strange than some of the other events and people of the last few days; and in any case, hadn't the great Holmes himself been known to pockmark his study wall in fits of boredom?
He did not particularly notice the gunslinger lurking in the corner.