Round and Round we Go

[yes_mother_hen]

Who: Injection plot!Holmes yes_mother_hen, John Watson holmes_blogger, Sherlock Holmes whatsolarsystem
What: A little hunt, and a little dose of sanity.
When: To...night?
Where: All around the S.S. Thor.
Warnings: Possible violence, Moriarty-ish behavior, BRILLIANCE

Comments

[whatsolarsystem]

[When Sherlock receives this text from Holmes, his expression becomes one of a very intrigued detective who has just been set upon a new, exciting scent.

He had, of course, expected for Holmes to contact him in some form or fashion. (He would have done the same, should he have been injected with the drug, some small little voice tells him in the back of his mind.) A genius, after all, always needed his audience.

Sherlock always made for a marvellous audience, if properly interested in the show.]

John. [He shows the text to his friend, who stands next to him.] A text from our fledgling consulting criminal.

[holmes_blogger]

[John glances over the text, which doesn't make a lot of sense to him.]

He's challenging you. Making a game of it.

['Like Moriarty' goes unsaid, but John's thinking it.]

[whatsolarsystem]

[That part of the sentence hangs in the air. It doesn't need to be said, as far as Sherlock's concerned.]

What do you make of it? The statement itself. [He has his own thoughts on the riddle himself, but a second opinion might prove enlightening.]

[holmes_blogger]

[Alas, in the grand Watson tradition, John is clueless.]

Sounds vaguely threatening, but I don't know what he's getting at. What turtle?

Assuming new comment is okay since it's a new hint

[whatsolarsystem]

[The first thing that grabs Sherlock's attention is, of course, the hand that's almost comically (if it wasn't so morbid) protruding out of the ball pit.

He takes a step near the edge of said ball pit, about to jump in without much thought on the matter to retrieve the hand and guide, when the song kicks in. His mind automatically makes an attempt at a translation.

"Don Giovanni! A cenar teco m'invitasti...". "Don Giovanni! You invited me to your dinner..."

Familiar data. Relevant. Where? Yes, yes, obvious. Mozart. A villain dragged to hell.]

[Even as his mind conjures up these thoughts, he listens intently to the rest of the message.]

[It's obvious that Holmes is having quite a bit of fun with this.]

[holmes_blogger]

[John is just staring at the hand in horror. Not because he's never seen a severed hand before, but because Holmes did this.]

My god, what has he done?

[whatsolarsystem]

Found himself a severed hand and placed it rather artfully among a sea of plastic balls.

[That was stated matter-of-factly. Have a Sherlock now hopping into the ball pit.]

[holmes_blogger]

How can you be sure he didn't sever it himself?

[John drags his eyes away from the grisly sight and looks around. This could be a trap of some kind.]

Be careful.

New clue, new thread.

[holmes_blogger]

That corpse certainly gets around.

[John is going to stay in the doorway and let Sherlock look. He certainly doesn't have to provide a medical opinion on this one.]

[whatsolarsystem]

With a bit of help, I'm sure.

[Sherlock nearly rushes in to examine the body; but other than the being the obvious origin of the severed hand, there is little to gleam from it right from the start.

He frowns. Even glancing around, there is nothing immediately of interest. The data, all of it, has been scraped clean from the room. All he has are Holmes' words, ringing in his head.]

[He speaks loudly, with a hint of irritation, on the off chance their "viewer" can hear them. He knows Holmes is taking pleasure in what irks him the most.]

Enjoying your little round of riddles? Am I supposed to theorize without any data?

[holmes_blogger]

[They wait for an answer, but there is only silence.]

Sounded like French. What does it mean?

[whatsolarsystem]

[Sherlock speaks hurriedly, like explaining it is a chore, just another obvious detail.]

A nice little rhyme for us. 'The robber, it saw. He really loves the number eight.'

[The relevance, if it's in the room, Sherlock doesn't see it.]

Vague. The room is devoid of data, how am I supposed to play connect-the-dots without a proper dot?

end of the game, new comment

[whatsolarsystem]

[Sherlock enters 8-8, his steps quick and purposeful. This is hardly the room of someone who bears the name Sherlock Holmes; he doesn't have to walk around or step over haphazardly strewn items on the floor. The usual aura of chaotic brilliance is replaced by a brilliance of the cold and calculating sort.

Naturally, then, it isn't difficult at all to find Holmes. He stands out like a carefully sculpted piece of art in a museum built around him.

When he spots the man, Sherlock stops and stares. The game was at an end, but this always proved to be the most dangerous part.]

[His words, they echo rather hollow in this room.]

Haven't been waiting too long, I hope?

[holmes_blogger]

[John follows Sherlock inside, looking Holmes over with a doctor's eye. There isn't much to see, of course. This drug does all its work internally.

He moves to one side, where he can see both men. This is their battle; he's just a spectator at the moment. He'll be ready if he's needed.]

[yes_mother_hen]

[Holmes doesn't move from where he's standing, his body language relaxed, almost strangely confident. There's a different sort of arrogance to him right now, not the eccentricity that's characteristic of him, but an arrogance that's more sinister in nature.

His eyes move first to Sherlock, then briefly to John, before settling on Sherlock again. A hand moves to draw a nice pocketwatch from his jacket, and Holmes flips it open, looking rather content.]

Not at all. I've been enjoying myself.

[Holmes snaps the pocketwatch closed, and then, on cue, the virtual window that's set in every one of these suites turns on. Instead of showing one scene, however, the window splits into several different monitors, displaying various parts of the ship simultaneously. A little 'modification' that he coerced someone into making.]

Modern technology is incredibly convenient, is it not?

[whatsolarsystem]

[Sherlock is flooded with the sudden imagery displayed by the monitors, the light from the screens flickering across his face erratically as he focuses his gaze on them.

Yes, he had expected as much. A plethora of the Thor, visible from one single suite. How fitting, and how very big brother.]

It is. [Sherlock takes a step closer to Holmes, not to be intimidated so easily. Such things only make him all the more eager to finish the game.]

Though you've had your fun for the time being. Time to put away your toys.