Detailed Roleplayers discussion
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C. and Andra - genderbend Sherlock!
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Joanna approached the door marked as 221b, and rapped on the door with the knocker. She checked her watch, but Sherlock hadn't specified a time, so it did her no good. A nice-looking old man opened the door. "Hello," she greeted warmly. "I'm Joanna Watson... Uh, I'm here for the flat. Is Sherlock here?" He nodded. "Just upstairs."
"Thank you," Jo said, as she entered. She walked unevenly towards the stairs, relying heavily on the cane. She made it up the stairs and approached the doorway into the flat, hearing a violin, though not a song. "Hello," she said to her to make her arrival known.
For a moment Sherlock didn't move, instead continuing to tune her violin. As soon as the desired note was produced, she set the violin on a table and turned around. "Yes, wonderful." Pointing to each respective place, she said, "Kitchen, my room, your room, Mr. Hudson is downstairs; try not to touch anything... science-y and we'll be perfect." Her words were all strung together, running gracefully on top of each other. "Your bags are downstairs?" she asked, having not seen Joanna leave her taxi.
"What kind of science-y things?" Joanna asked, wondering what she'd have to put up with, though she didn't think it'd be an issue. She nodded, leaning on her cane and the door frame. "Yes, they're at the base of the stairs. I'll get the rest of them." She didn't ask for help, though it would undoubtedly take her more than one trip to bring up the multiple bags. She couldn't carry more than one really as she needed her cane as well. Nonetheless, she made her way down the stairs and picked up a bag.
Sherlock cast an eye towards the fridge as Joanna went back down the stairs, hoping a bag of eyeballs sitting next to the butter wouldn't put off her appetite. Squeamish people were so... odd. Pulling her phone from her pocket with a small flip, she scrolled through the two new texts, one from her sister and the other from Mila. Boring.
Sherlock needed something to do.
((Sorry sorry sorry for not replying earlier. Life got crazy))Joanna got to the top of the stairs with a bag, setting it down just inside the doorway. She then trekked back down to retrieve the last of her stuff. She decided that they were fine where they were next to the couch, a least for the time being. She returned her attention to Sherlock, waiting a moment before speaking. "So..." she wasn't sure what to say, not really feeling like demanding an answer to her previous question.
((No problem, I've been crazy busy too.))Sherlock glanced at the main room of the flat, biting the inside of her cheek a moment as she saw quite the extent of the mess taking up more space than it should. With a quick hand, she swept the scattered papers into one semi-neat pile, pushed a few jars back, and grabbed the three empty coffee mugs and dumped them into the sink, turning back to face Joanna. "Sorry about the mess; living alone does that." The cultured British inflections to the words rolled off her tongue seamlessly and quickly. She was accustomed to talking rapidly; she had to get the abundance of knowledge in her mind said out loud in a seemly fashion. As she was talking, Mr. Hudson appeared in the doorway. "Would you two like a cuppa tea?" Sherlock nodded her thanks, and as he started down the stairs, called after him, "And some biscuits with that?"
"Only this once! I'm not your housekeeper!" came the reply.
Pulling her keys from her coat pocket, Sherlock unlocked the door and climbed the stairs with quick steps, calling down, "Evening, Mr. Hudson!"
"Evening, dear," he called back from the kitchen.
Throwing her scarf onto a table, she glanced at her watch, estimating that it would be... oh, ten, fifteen, max thirty minutes until Joanna showed up. She had been so easy to read, to pick up the infinitesimal clues from her bearing, her looks, even the way she had handed Sherlock her cell. Hopefully violin music wouldn't annoy her. She picked up her Stradivarius, plucking gently at the strings as she turned to the window.