Sherlock Holmes Advanced RP discussion

Pub!

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))

((Alright cool))

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

She blushed widely, looking down and biting into one of her pale rose lips, tracing the pattern the wood made in the table with her fingertips. The music was blaring but her mind drowned it out as she looked back up at him again. Here he was. Finally sitting across from her. And she could think of absolutely nothing. "So Peter" she whispered, a timid smile crossing her lips.

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.

She suddenly panicked inside as her mind scrambled for something to say and she but her lip, drumming her long and thin fingers against the table. "So have you always lived here?" Her eyes trailed across his dark skin and his strong jaw, his dark mangled curls. Many of her professors. But there was something about him. Foreign. And strong.

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?"

She smiled and couldn't help but giggle at his accent as though she felt it like a drink, the subtle difference in tones making her bubbly inside. "I was.. Uhm... Born in Paris and lived in Normandie until I moved here for schooling in English. I was fourteen" she smiled, looking up at him, her eyes sparkling in the dark place as she licked her lips and twirled her hair absent-mindedly.

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?"

"Oh. A Cosmo. Please" she smiled sweetly, straightening in her chair and leaning in against the table. "What was what like?" She picked up.

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.

She watched the waitress walk off in a moment's hesitation, yet Peter seemed focused on here. "What was it like moving here?" She looked off in thought for a moment. "Ridiculous. Unbelievable. Orphanages in the uk are co-ed, so it was a real difference for me. The schools expected me to know English better than I did, and..." She laughed and brushed her bangs back. "It was a bloody mess. But I wouldn't go back. Not for the world" she smiled, biting deep into her rose lips.

"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.

She giggled in her usual way, the laugh of a nymph in mythology, barely distinguishable from a breeze in the leaves or falling water. She pulled his dark hands away from his Dave gently, holding onto his fingertips. "I am. It's okay. It's not nearly as bad as it sounds. No annoying worried parents" she laughed as she watched him closely.

"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.

She couldn't help but frown slightly when he did so, yet she straightened and smoothed the wrinkles in her sweater as the waitress set the drinks down, smiling all the while at Peter whilst Jessica watched the pool players.

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."

She had raised her drink to her lips but now she sighed in though, setting it back down. "It was... Different. I was very independent. You did what you wanted. I was never adopted so I became like a mother to the younger children. But you had to work really hard to get to where I am, so that you could get a scholarship to university. Because you didn't have parents to remind you to do your work. But it was altogether fine" she stopped abruptly, feeling like she talked to much as she reached for her glass again.

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.

She set it down with a small and dainty cough, her eyes widening as she glanced down at his hame

((Didn't finish))
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.

"It's alright" she whispered hurriedly to put his worry at ease. "I was just startled is all" she smiled, taking his hand back.

((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.

((I would love that but how))

((Something could suddenly happen to her like she gets sick, or a person from the university could show up or they could get mugged as they're leaving))

((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.))

((I agree. I don't want to ruffle any feathers but the person who claimed moriarty (and also Watson) is never on. I'm considering having an audition for them or something))

((Hey alice i mesaaged back :) ))

((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.))

((Well ill message the person. You can take over moriarty for now))

((AH! no thanks, like I said, I'm not a better candidate, I'm going to make my own villain, I think.))

((Alright sounds good))

((permission to let my crazed chemist character blow the store next to Mulligans up?))

((Granted!))

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.

Jessica felt her hand ripped from Peter's as she saw brick rumble around her, and suddenly felt glass cut into her, crying out in pain as she was tossed from her chair and landed against the wall with a dull thud, blinking hard to make out the shapes as dust cleared, yet she saw flames from the opposite wall. She moved to stand and found herself falling to the ground, her mind working in slow motion as she cried out.

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.

"I..." she blinked hard and gripped his hand tightly and locked her arm as she tried to get up, staring at the ground as her mouth moved, yet it seemed she couldn't get the words to form in her mouth. "I...I.." she swallowed and looked up at him with unfocused, tracking eyes before looking back down. She felt no pain, only that she was shaking.

((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.

((Should she? I was going to go with possible brain damage or broken ribs, if anything))
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.

Jessica moved to sit up and yelped in pain, leaning against the wall and gasping for air as she clutched her side.

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.

She answered the woman's questions as things went in and out of focus, all the while being sure her hand didn't slip from his. She heard concussion and something about ribs yet it didn't seem to register. "She's in shock. Alright. Ma'am were going to put you on a stretcher" the woman tried to tell her clearly. Yet when they laid her on it and tried to wheel her away from Peter she screamed and reached out to him.

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.

She nodded and lay back. God, why did this finally happen. She finally got him. Finally. And the bloody building exploded.
((Hospital?))8

She nodded and lay back. God, why did this finally happen. She finally got him. Finally. And the bloody building exploded.
((Hospital?))88

((surething))