[log] murder friends [closed]

[howdull]

Characters: Sherlock, John, Sylar, Davesprite, Homura, and Dug
Location Various
Date: 175 and 176
Summary: Sherlock and John meet Sylar on day 175, then Davesprite, Homura, and Dug on 176
Warnings: None yet.

[Mingle madness, make your own top levels for either day and go mad.]

Comments

day 175 for Sylar and John : posting order of Sherlock, John, Sylar

[howdull]

[He is possibly first into the doors of the building as his long legs give him the speed advantage, especially since he is excited for the prospect of potentially useful evidence. He does so hope that Gabriel is here already and has the samples he's requested, even more so now that he knows the boy in question isn't entirely human.]

Come along, John, keep up.

[He brushes the snow from his shoulders and peers around for Gabriel.]

[jumpthegun]

[John doesn't know why they're practically running to the aquarium. He's been equal parts morose and relieved since finding Fiona's body at the hospital morgue on a very brief stop-in. It's... well, it's closure, after a sort. It also means the thing that attacked him and Angel probably wasn't her.]

I am keeping up, you great bloody giraffe. [That's muttered mostly to himself as he follows in after the other man. But the grumbling falls away as he notices Sherlock looking around. John immediately on edge. They're supposed to be meeting a self-confessed serial killer here. And, well, the last time he was in the aquarium, it ended poorly.]

Mr. Taylor, are you here? It's Dr. Watson and Mr. Holmes. [He'll use Gabriel's fake name for the moment.]

[termineur]

[ Gabriel is currently looking over the aquarium tanks with an intense gaze. He didn't find anything last time, but that didn't mean he wouldn't again. He looks up when he hears Dr. Watson, and steps out from his spot. He gives the two of them a rather strained smile. ]

I'm here. Hello.

[ He waves with just his forearm, a little gesture to go with the hello. He wasn't sure whether John was told about him, so he won't worry about that for the moment. Instead he looks over to Sherlock, disappointment evident in his eyes. ]

I couldn't get the sample. Al's very protective of his privacy. You might be getting something from him later, though.

176

[howdull]

[A bathroom!

Though Sherlock took advantage of the hot water in the aquarium only the night before, that was a sink and not a bathtub, so there were limits to how clean he could get. Though a cold bath is hardly ideal in such harsh conditions, he is unwilling to allow either himself or his clothes to get into a filthy state.

Which is why Sherlock can be found in the bath.

If the water itself can't be coerced into working, he will have gathered armfuls of snow and brought them into the bath to melt. Hopefully everyone wants to see a consulting detective in just his underpants, because that's what's happening now.]

[mrcreamsicles]

[If asked if he likes Sherlock, Davesprite would give a resounding nope. If asked if he'd like to spend the night sharing the house with him, he'd go onto say, are you fuckin' kidding me? If further asked if he'd ever like to run into Sherlock in his underwear, he'd give up on the one asking entirely, because this whole line of inquiry is downright godawful.]

[But given a jackass British detective, an armful of snow, and some mystery noises from the bathroom he disappeared into, this is just the situation he's found himself in.]

[Fast reflexes and an instinct for what photos might be exploitable for further use means he has his tablet up and clicking before either of them have gotten a word out.]

You looking to freeze to death, or have you just got a hypothermia fetish?

[howdull]

[He tsks in annoyance, but he isn't embarrassed at being caught in just his underwear. He's worn nothing but a sheet to Buckingham Palace before, this is nothing.

His skin is pebbled with goosebumps, and the bandages over the bullet wound at his chest are peeling slightly, but otherwise he looks the picture of haughty disdain.]

The chances of getting ill through bacterial infection due to a hygiene deficiency are much greater than the chances of hypothermia from a controlled exposure to cold water.

[jumpthegun]

[John's fairly used to getting an eyeful of his shameless flatmate. What's surprising here isn't seeing Sherlock in his underpants, it's finally seeing that bandage over what is, presumably, a bullet wound on the other man's chest. He'd been planning to search the medicine cabinets, but now... well...]

I can redress that for you when you get out. [John points his mini-torch he's using in his search down toward the bandage.] Provided you aren't in hypothermic shock in the next five minutes. I've got some shampoo and soap in my pack, too, if that's anything you haven't got.

[Mr. Bouncing Curls.]

[howdull]

[Shampoo and soap!

He brushes straight past the mention of his bandages as unimportant, because he doesn't intend to let John anywhere near them, and dives right for the more useful items.]

Yes. Good. Fetch them now, please. The less time I spend actually in the water, the less danger I will be of hypothermic shock.

[andiloveyou]

[Dug has been drinking out of a lot of toilets lately. Life is hard when you have no hands to work whatever taps actually work, and water is nicer than snow.

When in his wanderings around the house he finds the man from before in the bath, he saunters right over, dips his head over the side of the tub, and starts lapping up bath water.]

[howdull]

[Now he knows this is a real dog, not a supernatural one, and the collar is indeed a type of technology that interprets brainwaves and translates them as simple speech, Sherlock is much happier to see Dug.

He even smiles when the dog puts his head in the bath, reaching out with cold fingers to scratch behind his ears.]

Good boy, you don't want this water, it's contaminated with the bacteria and sweat from my body.

[perfero]

[There are some pretty severe downsides to having long hair when you don't have consistent access to running water. Especially hot running water. Homura has been washing it whenever she has the chance and since there's a bathroom and she has soap....

Except the bathroom is occupied. Whoops.]

... I'll come back later.

[termineur]

[ Sylar walks in and blinks. And blinks again. Sherlock's bath seems like a terrible idea, but he gets the desire to be clean. And- well, he'd wanted to talk to Sherlock anyway, so... ]

Have you heard about the dolls they keep finding over in the tunnels? The ones with the eye symbol drawn on the faces?

176

[mrcreamsicles]

[The past few days haven't been bad, per se, but they've been tense. Ever since waking up after his night in the aquarium it's been nagging him like an unscratched itch. But at the same time, it's been easy to find reason for. That night he got woken up early, and it was the same place he'd been when all the eyes appeared in the static. After that were the days they trekked around the fire station, with the danger of the anomaly inside. And today wasn't bad—they got food!—but it's run them into a group he would rather not have met. Not that he minds Watson, and he doesn't know Sylar to judge, but Sherlock can go fuck himself for all he cares.]

[Too bad it they'll have to share the night together.]

[So Davesprite, looking ridiculous between what he is and how he's dressed, settles in with resignation to what's completely unavoidable. That is to say, he keeps his expression pointedly blank and smooth as he drifts around the house.]

[Even so, it's hard to miss how he keeps checking things now and then, peering over his shoulder and past the wing, glancing out windows even after lockdown comes, turning his head off in the direction of people moving in other rooms or even the settling sounds of a house packed in by snow. When he sits, it's with his back up against a wall. Should anyone actually approach him from behind, he's apt to spin and face them, ruff raised around his neck.]

[Anyone who might run into him this way (or come to talk to him on their own) will nonetheless be greeted flatly.]

'Sup?

[jumpthegun]

[John hadn't meant to sneak up on the kid. He's just coming up from downstairs and considering how to pitch the sleeping arrangements--John would like to sleep on the mattress in the master bedroom--when he has to stop because of an orange tail in front of him.]

Nothing much.

[It's a rote reply, John's tone more surprised than anything when the sprite spins around suddenly.]

Uh... just coming up.

[He points past Davesprite.]

[termineur]

[ Whoops. And here he wasn't even trying to sneak. He had mostly run into Davesprite while looking at various corners and inspecting any cracks he could find, but he definitely didn't veer away when he saw the bird-kid in the way. Davesprite was interesting. ]

Uh...hey. You okay? You seem a little jumpy.

[perfero]

[Things could be a great deal worse, though Homura isn't exactly a fan of their group growing. Watson is fine, if a little too concerned at things, but the other two are still mostly unknown quantities. She doesn't like unknown quantities when she's sans-time travel abilities. It makes things too risky.

So she's more comfortable sticking near Davesprite or Dug, or just going off and being on her own.

Right now? Sticking near Davesprite might be a good option, given how strangely he's behaving.]

Are you alright?

[That feather ruffling is telling, bro.]

176

[jumpthegun]

[John would really rather like the mattress in the master bedroom. He won't press for it with a couple of kids, but he'd like it. Three or four of them can probably sleep on it comfortably. Dug can kip at the end, but that leaves someone out on the very cold sofa downstairs. Personally, John's all right with that someone being Sylar.

The man has been nothing but polite and helpful to John since his arrival, and just knowing that makes the doctor's skin crawl. He would never have suspected a thing. It prickles at the edges of his thoughts--the paranoia. Who can you trust? Who's hiding what they really are? Why can't he see it.

John's eyes flick up at the sound of someone entering the master bedroom, and there's a momentary dark and mistrustful look for whomever has just arrived before he pushes that aside and pulls on a polite smile. He's sat on the mattress, tablet in his lap, and his notepad app open. The only words there for the moment are:

'Trust until trust is proven lost.']

How d'you reckon we should do the bed in here, then? Rock, paper, scissors for the best spots moving out?

[perfero]

[Wandering up into the master bedroom, she pauses and glances over at Watson in regards to his question. Sleeping arrangements might be a little complicated with the added people, unfortunately. She doesn't really mind sleeping next to Davesprite and Dug is a given, but the other three?

Yeah. A little awkward.]

I don't mind sleeping on the floor.

[mrcreamsicles]

[You want to know who's completely, totally fine and normal? Who definitely wasn't just rattled in the existential issues and absolutely isn't freaking out on the inside about just how real he might be?]

[You'll have to let him known when you find out, because Davesprite plops down beside Watson and starts babbling with barely a look his way.]

No can do, Watson. You're trying to play pigs in a blanket, but I keep kosher in the bedroom and your boyfriend's got the fine stench of swine all over. I'd have checked for hooves earlier, but I'd rather not look south of the border on tall, dark, and hostile. We could have had fresh frozen ham for Christmas, but it looks like he survived that bath. Go figure how he did it. Maybe Holmes deduced the water so hard even it didn't want to share a room with him.

And I'm just saying, man, but three grown men, two teens, and a dog? That ain't the kind of comedy I'm in for. Three men and a baby was pushing it, and you've just gone too far. Film directors are shaking their heads, staring at the script wondering, who wrote this crap? You're gonna get barred from the screenwriters' guild at this rate, Watson. You should have known better. They warned you, the world ain't ready for this. But you were a man with a vision, a five human, one bird, one dog vision, and not even god himself could stop you if he opened up the pearly gates and bellowed down a divine commandment against it.

Plus, how you gonna fit all that on one bed? You pack us in lengthwise and we'll be spilling off the sides. Tuck us in horizontal style and we're gonna have our feet and non-feet kicking at the memory of bad carpeting choices, and I wasn't a guy for footsie back when I had the anatomy to do it. You wanna cuddle up close with Sherlock and a stranger, I won't judge, but that lifestyle just isn't my gig. I'll curl up downstairs, you know? Far be it from me to intrude upon the sanctity of the matrimonial-plus-guest bedroom. Sweet dreams, Watson. I got your back.

176

[termineur]

[ Sylar has settled into a secondary bedroom upstairs, leaving his pack on the floor. He figures tonight will be a night of bumping into other people. Considering one of those other people is a dog, that doesn't seem so bad. He hopes he gets to pet it, despite Watson's worried glances in his direction.

He's already introduced himself as Zane Taylor, and been remarkably polite to everyone, and now he's getting down to the futile business of looking for clues or SD cards. He's already been through this house twice recently, so he's fairly sure he's not going to find anything, but it's a routine to him by now.

He stops poking at a corner in the closet when he hears someone nearby. Whether they've looked in the door or have actually come inside, he responds by brushing fake dust off his hands. ]

Looks like I've found all the nothing there is to find in this room. Hi, there.

[jumpthegun]

[John still hasn't had a proper discussion with Sylar since Sherlock had shut down their posturing the night before. He's been too busy keeping an eye on their resident serial killer and shooting mildly betrayed looks in Sherlock's direction. But with this house offering some level of privacy that the open aquarium hadn't, he can finally confront his fellow 'assistant.']

Hullo, Mr. Taylor.

[His tone is flat as he enters into the room and closes the door.]

I think we should talk.

[perfero]

[With her tablet in hand Homura is wandering around a little, trying to find somewhere semi-warm to huddle for a little while. Preferably alone, but in a crowded house she isn't really expecting to find that. Oh well.]

I don't think there's anything left here that's useful.

176

[andiloveyou]

[Dug is in his evening attire not long after the group settles in -- that is, backpack, socks, and "hat" are gone, leaving him blissfully naked aside from the collar. He's much too chipper for someone who's been trudging through ice tunnels all day, and he comes armed (mouthed?) with a tennis ball already soggy with saliva. This he deposits in someone's lap, or at their feet, a hopeful look trained on their face.]

This is a ball. You can throw the ball, and I will go get the ball and then I will bring it back.

[jumpthegun]

[John's been waiting for this opportunity. God, Dug's just as cute in-person as he hoped. Talking dogs are still weird, but if he can manage Toriel, this is fine.]

That sounds like fun, Dug. I'm John, by the way. We talked on the network. You're a very good dog.

[And with that, the ball is tossed across the second floor landing where Dug has accosted the doctor.]

[termineur]

[ What is better than a fat golden retriever that talks to you? The answer is nothing. Nothing is better. And Dug gets one of Sylar's genuine smiles as he reaches down- completely ignoring the slobbery tennis ball for a moment- and scritches behind Dug's ears. ]

All right, buddy. We can play some fetch. You're Dug, right? You must feel pretty good getting all that stuff off you, huh?

[ Finally, he reaches for the ball. He'll wait a moment before throwing it one direction down a hallway. He always had fun keeping neighbor dogs guessing which way it'd go. ]