songerein | [OPEN] A Late March Catchall

Who: Herlock Sholmes ... and you?
Which: Open Log
Where: Around Reverein (The Wild Harvest, The Communal Garden)
What: Sholmes enjoys some intellectual pursuits in public
Warnings: Threads may include spoilers for GAA/GAA2 and will be marked accordingly. Feel free to opt out or simply write an OOC note in the tag.

A. The Curious Tale of the Man with the Jars

XXnd of March(?), Throughout the Day
The Wild Harvest

[ If one happens to visit the Wild Harvest today, they will find one of its tables has been completely overtaken by a single guest and his clutter: a stack of books*, a (normal) journal, a handful of measuring tools, and--depending on what time you find him--half-eaten plates of food, a sweaty glass of ice water, a cup of tea, or a neglected pint of beer. His overcoat, deerstalker, and leather bag are discarded on the seat next to him, leaving the detective to comfortably study in his rolled shirtsleeves.

However, all of that aside, one may find a mismatched collection of jars to be of much greater interest. Judging by the stubborn residue from their labels, the containers previously held pickles, jams, and spices, but peering into them now will reveal various specimens, living or otherwise: insects, plants, colorful stones, mysterious fluids, one or two familiar orange hate feathers and a few four-leaf clovers. ]

[[ * OOC: This is a random mix from the bookstore. Feel free to make up titles or recognize a volume from your character’s canon if you’d like another excuse to make small talk! ]]

B. The Adventure of the Fickle Fiddler

XXst of March(?), Late Afternoon, Trending into Evening
The Communal Garden

[ Alternately, if one happens to be enjoying a late-day stroll by the communal garden, they will catch the sound of a violin. A few bars of a tune play, followed by a pause, some muttering, and a bowed revision. It's a bit difficult to make out the song or the violinist's actual skill given the choppy progress, but if, by chance, one hails from some variant of Earth and has a keen ear for classical music, they may recognize phrases of Paganini.

Venturing deeper into the garden, one will find the source of the music: a man standing by the pond with a violin tucked under his chin. After bowing out a bar, he bends to write (or erase) notes on the makeshift sheet music paper laid out across a bench. A chorus of singing fish poke up from the depths of the pond to helpfully parrot his melodies. ]

C. WILDCARD

[ Hit me up via PM or discord if you have other business or scenarios you'd like to address with Sholmes! ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ She wishes she could say she doesn't believe this, but unfortunately, she very much does. Even the almost-year she spent at 221B Baker St was enough for her to know that this is definitely his style. She might have coughed a couple times in reaction to the mushroom spores, but other than that, she seems to take the receipt back without issue.

She glances at the aforementioned note scribbled on the back, trying to decipher it, but quickly decides that it would be a problem for Future Susato. ]

With all the practice I have had, turning evidence upside down and inside out, I might have guessed. Not to worry! It is in capable hands.

[ That's a promise. However unfortunate for her. ]

[ Sholmes snaps the case shut again with a last whiff of spores. They're harmless ... probably! ]

I trust you'll work that diligent, Mikotoba magic, Miss Susato. [ It's a wonder Sholmes didn't already seek out the other source of this talent, but between the clinic, cultivating the Glowing Dawn, and apparently drumming up interest in a council, Yujin already has his hands full without the added task of translating the detective's investigative detritus. ]

Don't let this great detective keep you from your own employment. [ He fits his goggles back down over his eyes. ] Mr. Asogi is counting on you, after all.

[ Jeez... Now why did he have to go and say that? Now Susato feels a bit self-conscious about sitting down and taking a break with Sholmes; but at the very least, she can look busy, just in case Boss decides to randomly come in for a surprise visit. She sighs and starts to gather up his things, already starting to organize what she can... tentatively. ]

On that note, I should make sure things are still in order in the kitchen. Will you be quite alright until I am able to come grab everything?

[ She'll find a way to take it all home. Maybe she'll find another bag to put everything in that is not so spores-filled. ]

[ He makes a sweeping shoo gesture with his both his hands. ]

Don't fret about me. I'll be packing everything up shortly. [ That said, he flips open his pocket watch to check the time. That late already? The goggles come back up just as quickly as they'd come down. ]

I need to see about dragging your father out for a constitutional before dinner. [ He starts gathering up his impressive mess of clutter. ] The poor fellow's probably spent the entire day holed up at the clinic.

Then I would thank you for seeing everything to my house. I can take it from there.

[ With everything in... awkward, yet neat piles, she stands. She takes one last look over everything, grabbing whatever soiled plates, cups, teacups that are left that she wasn't able to hand off earlier.

She lingers for a moment, adding: ]

Oh, and... do show him a good time for me. He will not say it, but I know he has missed you.

[ Sholmes nods. The least he can do is deposit the entire heap in her room. ~~Don't worry, he won't snoop for any bittersweet secrets while he's doing it. Probably.~~

The detective tugs on his deerstalker, pulling the brim down to shade his eyes and— ... is that the barest hint of pink on his cheeks? ]

You have my word, Miss Susato. And if we're not back by dinner, assume we've stumbled upon a crime most foul.

[OPEN] A Late March Catchall

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