John H. Watson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
was_a_soldier) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entranceway2012-03-05 09:46 pm
was_a_soldier) wrote in entranceway2012-03-05 09:46 pm
[Video] Entry 001
[The camera flickers on, revealing John sitting up from being sprawled on the ground, holding his head. He groans, hissing to himself. From the grass around him, it looks like he's on the front lawn of the mansion. When he finally peeks through his fingers, the doctor notices the camera--likely his phone. He reaches for it, looking slightly perplexed when he realizes it's recording video--technology was never really his strong suit. He glances around, and when it's obvious he sees nothing familiar, he holds up the camera properly, looking into it with confusion, but resolve.]
This is John Watson, speaking. I'm currently in an unknown area and any sort of information would be... wonderful, thank you.
[The hinting of his military background dissolves slightly at the end of his request, and he gnaws at his lower lip as he observes his surroundings once more. Running a hand through his cropped hair, he mutters to himself;]
Well, one thing's for sure, this certainly isn't London...
[He then snorts in a self deprecating manner.]
Of course it isn't, John. Obvious deduction.
[He's speaking as if mimicking someone else chiding him, but the line of his mouth and the expression in his eyes is fond, if a bit sad, as he looks off. After a moment he remembers he's still on video. Clearing his throat, he fumbles with the phone uselessly a couple of times until the transmission finally shuts off.]
This is John Watson, speaking. I'm currently in an unknown area and any sort of information would be... wonderful, thank you.
[The hinting of his military background dissolves slightly at the end of his request, and he gnaws at his lower lip as he observes his surroundings once more. Running a hand through his cropped hair, he mutters to himself;]
Well, one thing's for sure, this certainly isn't London...
[He then snorts in a self deprecating manner.]
Of course it isn't, John. Obvious deduction.
[He's speaking as if mimicking someone else chiding him, but the line of his mouth and the expression in his eyes is fond, if a bit sad, as he looks off. After a moment he remembers he's still on video. Clearing his throat, he fumbles with the phone uselessly a couple of times until the transmission finally shuts off.]
action;
I should probably remind you that 'magic' sort of takes care of most things domestic around here. I could probably still be expected to to the hoovering but I don't think you'd approve of my methods.
action;
action;
action;
[He decides not to comment on the first part, and reaches down to start setting up the game, blindly picking a single weapon, person and room card and sliding it into the envelope, making sure neither of them can see. Then, he goes through dealing the cards and setting up the game, even though this first move is the only one that really matters. He glances at Sherlock over the top of his cards.]
Right then, deduce away.
action;
Colonel Mustard, the rope, the study.
[He holds out his hand. Give him the envelope so he can check.]
action;
action;
Well, I win.
How do you feel about blue?
action;
Oi, not so fast, let me see!
[Reaches out to try and snag the cards.]
Re: action;
No need, I already assessed my victory.
action;
You know what I'm deducing? That your victory is a load of bollocks. Now let me see--!
[His mouth twitches, trying not to smile as he continues grabbing for the cards.]
action;
Think you can remember which ones were which?
action;
This does not mean you've won, you know.
action;
action;
[Grinning]
Re: action;
Thank you.
action;
...You're still not picking my room, though.
action;
Twenty or Twenty-Two?
action;
...Twenty-two.
Re: action;
Re: action;
No, Sherlock, you didn't win so you can't mess with it!
action;
[Taller than you and takes larger steps. He opens the door to number 22 and he's imagined it to be the Barts research facility. Last place they stood together before the fall.]
This was a terrible idea, John. Where are you meant to sleep?
[Because obviously this is John's fault.]
action;
[stumbles the few steps into the room after Sherlock, freezes, gawks a bit, then ducks under Sherlock's arm, still on the door handle, to enter the lab.]
Sherlock, you've ruined my room...
[He mutters, sounding a bit lost as his words echo around the beakers and cold counters.]/
action;
[Look around. Shiney~]
action;
[Throws a look at Sherlock through the beakers as they pace around the room. Suddenly the harsh words 'you machine' shudder through his memory and he freezes, staring down at some sort of experiment set up that Sherlock likely wanted to continue in some corner of his overworking mind. He bites his lip. That was the last thing he'd ever said to the detective before his suicide....]
action;
They'd first met in this room. Perhaps that was why he felt like returning. Sherlock looks over at John, finding him quiet.]
Are you alright?
Re: action;
action;
action;
action;
action;
action;
action;
action;
action;
action;
action;
action;
action;