Appointments

[theblogger]

This post is for IC threads that don't fit in logs or network posts (aka this is an excellent choice for a private thread).

Games: Ataraxion and Luceti

Please indicate the date and the game you're from in the subject line!

Comments

[logicals]

<sub>[ He notes the man sitting close by, keeping an eye on John and his general surroundings. He knows a guard when he sees one, the man's keeping close tabs on John whilst John remains pointedly oblivious in regards to Reaper's existence. That's a cue Sherlock can take on, so whilst Reaper makes a noise to signify Sherlock's arrival, the detective merely offers him a nod before all of his attention is turned back onto John. He looks as though he hasn't slept for days, and who could honestly blame him? His best friend turned up dead a mere week ago, and whether there are duplicates or not on board, that's hard to cope with. Sherlock understands, he does. Even if he was the one to leave John by stepping off of that building, he still knows what it's like to lose the one person you've always thought you could count on.

He may not be especially good at being a being of sentiment, but he's not quite given up the ghost just yet. Of course, he's doing it all wrong - there's no google here to aid him towards being socially acceptable, and he's not about to go around and ask his peers. It was difficult enough trying to reason with his own John regarding this one - he knew he needed to keep an eye on him, but how could he, when John's too busy shaming him for the death of his other? He'd do his best, but there's only so much Sherlock is willing to do in order to make an idiot out of himself (and that's precisely how he feels right now - like an absolute prat, practically begging for John's attention despite the argument they recently had.

He's not usually the one to overlook his ego, but this time it couldn't be helped.

Sherlock offers a small smile by way of a greeting, carefully glancing over John and trying to read into his body language everything he doesn't want to ask. ]</sub>

I brought you tea.

_{[ A peace offering: he holds it up before setting it down in front of John, looking expectantly at him as he waits. He stands just beyond the table, hands snaking into his pockets as he overlooks the thumb drives stacked beside the doctor. ]}

[theblogger]

[ He brought tea. The doctor's eyes rest on the mug placed before him, then flicker up to Sherlock. Even if he doesn't do it, an arch of a brow is implied. The last time Sherlock tried to apologize to him with such a gesture, he'd laced the beverage in question with what he thought might be a hallucinogen. He was wrong, of course, but it was the thought that counted, wasn't it?

It's the thought that counts.

John reaches for the drink a moment later, lifts it to sip. His brow furrows just a tiny bit, but he swallows. ]

Mm. It's cold.

[ But he doesn't give it up, even takes another begrudging sip. He knows why Sherlock is here. He's also aware of how he himself acted and he's a bit sorry for it. But just like Sherlock isn't outright saying it, with being here, with giving this, neither is John. ]

What do you need?