Sherlock Holmes Advanced RP discussion
London
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Mulligans
message 1:
by
KBelle
(new)
Oct 29, 2013 06:21PM
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![]-[olden (holden_) | 69 comments](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1410072670p1/1964880.jpg)
Peter walked ahead and looked around, unsure as to where to sit. He settled for a booth by the window, but almost instantly regretted it when the cool breeze seemed to blow right through the single pane of glass. ((It's his religion, so about as much as it does most Christians))
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She sat facing him and crossed her legs gracefully, playing with her necklace as her eyes settled appraisingly and approvingly on him. In shape, opinionated, handsome. What more could you want?
Peter took her gazing at him as permission to look back. What he saw was puzzling. She had the look of a curvy, yet petite beauty, but looked surprisingly thin, and slightly ill. ((night
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Peter's eyes lingered on her form for a moment. She looked like she would have normally been a health weight, with hips, and just a bit of a tummy, but had recently lost a good deal of it. The dark circles under her eyes too looked like they were caused by extreme stress or chronic lack of sleep. But then there was that smile and those dimples, and those clear, twinkling blue eyes. They shone through her weariness, and the contrast made the girl's lovely face exquisite. He chewed on his inner cheek as he though this, then, with a little shake, broke out of his revery, and locked eyes with her once again, a kind smile warming his exotic features. "Yes, what is it?" He asked.
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Allowing slightly more of his accent to color his voice, Peter replied. "I was born in Pakistan to two loving Indian parents. They had moved to Pakistan to escape violence against Muslims in their home village. we were able to move back when I was in secondary school, and India is where I was educated, but I still consider Pakistan my home." he said. "what of you? I can tell you spent some time in France, is that where you are from?"
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Peter tried not to follow the path of her tongue with his eyes, glancing down he adjusted his trousers. "what was that like?" he asked. "also, Let me buy you a drink, what do you fancy?"
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Peter looked around, Unsure as to how to get the drink, a kindly waitress noticed his confusion, and tottered over. "what can i get you, deary?" she asked. "One cosmo and a pear brandy, please." Peter ordered. as the waitress went to get the drinks Peter leaned forward, and looked to Jessica expectantly.
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"Oh, you are an orphan?" he asked, slightly startled at his own brashness, he looked down and tangled his fingers in his hair and muttered something about an apology.
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"Even so, I'm sorry." he said quietly, squeezing her hands slightly, and looking down. The waitress scurried around the corner with their drinks and Peter dropped her hands suddenly.
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Peter picked up his glass and swirled the contents around, then sighed and set it down with a clatter. "I'm sorry, to be rude or brash, but, what was it like?" he paused and looked down, then continued. "My parents were always there, caring, to a point of fault, and over protective, but, there."
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Peter nodded his understanding, but said nothing. watching her take a drink he came to a conclusion. he reached across the table and took her hand.
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His hand, yet she didn't pull away as she swallowed and looked up at him with timid and fearful eyes. "Wh-what is it?"
Confused Peter withdrew his hand. "I was just trying to offer some semblance of support." He stammered.
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((Not that relationship building isn't fun, but could we get some action or intrigue up in here?)) Peter held her small cold hand tightly, and looked her in the eye.
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((I liked Mugged, but any of those would work. I think whomever is playing Moriarty ought to get to work laying some sinister plans to entangle all these characters. it would be nice to meet the originals at some point.))
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((Er?)) (( I think I could pull its off, I'm not bad at evil geniuses and whatnot, but I also am never on, and haven't even met Moriarty in the series. Still, it would be nice for their to bea big overarching mystery that our characters have to work together to solve.))
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((AH! no thanks, like I said, I'm not a better candidate, I'm going to make my own villain, I think.))
((permission to let my crazed chemist character blow the store next to Mulligans up?))
The blast was so sudden, Peter's mind had difficulty keeping up. the shock wave, which hit just before the noise, knocked Peter's glass from his hand, it's shattering became entirely inconsequential as the far wall of the bar collapsed in on itself. bricks, wood and bits of drywall flew everywhere, and through the foggy after blast ambiance, Peter could hear the screaming of those who had been hit with debris. he started up and moved to help them, and then remembered Jessica.
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Peter pushed aside the table and chair and rushed to Jessica. He grabbed her hand and was about to pull her up when he noticed the glass and blood. muttering obscenities he crouched protectively over her, as hysterical people rushed about and jostled him. "Jessica, are you alright, can you move?" he said into her ear.
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((she doesn't have spinal damage, does she?)) Peter held her down. "don't move. I'll stick with you, help will be here soon." he pushed her hair off of her bloodied forehead and held her, looking around in vain for a medical or emergency worker. As he did, he saw a tall, blue haired person vault over the bar and into the kitchen. As the swinging doors shut behind the figure, Peter watched as their long thin hands reached into a backpack and pull out a ball shaped object wrapped in duct tape. Then the door closed and the figure was gone. But something deep inside Peter, some long forgotten memory of a more violent childhood stirred, and he leaped into action. He dragged the large oak table so it rested on its side just in front of Jessica, its legs braced on the wall behind her, then he sat with his back pressed to the table top, similarly braced. He managed to take one deep breath before the second explosion rocked the room. The swinging door, along with most of the wall was blown off its hinges. The heavy, metal frame smashed through the window and the door itself crashed into the table, splintering one of the legs, and sending peter sprawling onto Jessica.
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Jessica breathed heavily as she watched him, feeling dirty and sticky from debris and blood. She nodded in some show of awareness as she watched him spring into action, her eyes sloppily following his movements the way a dog only halfway attempts to chase after something on a hot summer day. She screamed again and closed her eyes, holding onto his powerful, braced biceps as the second explosion rang out and washed the heat and power upon them. She felt herself fade out momentarily and, next thing she new, their faces were inches apart as he lay on top of her.
((broken ribs, spinal damage is a bitch.)) Peter grimaced and pushed himself gently off Jessica. he looked around at the once comfortable, warm pub, now reduced to piles of debris, and moaning forms.
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Peter moved to her and and gripped her hand, just as the paramedics started poring in, he signaled to one and she rushed over. "I'm not hurt, but she has been cut badly, and may have suffered internal damage as well," Peter explained. The paramedic nodded her understanding and got to work, checking Jessica's vitals.
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Peter moved quickly to her side. "it's alright, I can't come, but I'll try to follow you to the hospital, you will be alright" he intoned to her as the paramedics hurried her through the rubble towards the ambulance.
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((Hospital?))8
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((Hospital?))88
