Distant Minds {{Sherlock Rp with Circledude5}}

[Shadow Cat]

Ciera stood up. "Well I'm not going to have time because I have a job to get to. Remember?" She grinned at him before walking to grab her coat and scarf. She winced as the fabric brushed over the gun shot wound on her arm. "Ouch."

 

[Circledude5]

Sherlock looked up at her, eyebrows raised. "I'm sure it won't be too difficult," he said. He had almost forgotten she had an actual job. Boring.


"Besides," he got up and crossed over to her, "Jobs are so boring."

 

[Shadow Cat]

She grinned. "Fine." She sighed as she rubbed her arm. She left the room for a moment to get her computer. "I'll pull up the GPS and I'll take a detour on the way to work. " she walked over to sit on the couch and opened the laptop.

 

[Circledude5]

Sherlock would have to wait until John woke up to go back to Bart's. Well, he didn't have to, but John was already pissed at him, and going off to do work without him would just anger him even more. Then he remembered that there was basically no point because Moriarty had basically admitted to doing it, and it was going to be untraceable anyways. That meant...clients. Oh, joy.

 

[Shadow Cat]

"You looked pleased." Ciera commented sarcastically as she got the GPS location of her phone. She could see on the tab that she had 11 unread messages sent to her phone since the last time she had checked its location.


Great. Probably Anderson. Ugghh.

 

[Circledude5]

"Very," Sherlock responded, equally sarcastically. He turned from where he had frozen and went around to the back of the sofa so he could look over her shoulder. "You've found it then?"

 

[Shadow Cat]

"Yeah. " she pointed out the unread messages. "I think Anderson is getting a little impatient." She quickly memorized the location and stood, slipping on her shoes and walking to the door. "Better go before I get fired."

 

[Circledude5]

Sherlock chuckled derisively. "Let him wait; it always entertaining when his patience is running low." He stood up straight and went go get his violin again.


"Anyways," he said as he set the case down on the coffee table and glanced up, "He won't fire you. He's lucky he still his position; you're way over qualified for the spot you're at."

 

[Shadow Cat]

Ciera gave a small laugh and nodded. "You got that right." Then, she walked out the door and down the stairwell, hailing a cab outside and instructing the cabby on where to take her. Then, she was off.

 

[Circledude5]

Sherlock, plucking the strings at random listened as Ciera went down the stairs, then watched as she tried to hail a taxi in the early morning. Luckily for her, it only took a few minutes. As she sped off, he started improvising, simply for something to do. It would probably be hours until John woke up, and until then, he'd have to entertain himself.

 

[Shadow Cat]

As soon as she made it there, she stepped out and ran inside, nearly running into Anderson. "Where the hell have you been?" He asked as soon as he saw it was her.


"You don't want to know." She replied.


"You're probably right. Come on. We have another one."


"What?"


"Yeah. You coming or not?"


"Absolutely." She rushed after him.

 

[Circledude5]

Sherlock was playing random notes, but it soon turned back into Tchaikovsky as his mind palace began to form around him. He was wearing headphones, listening to the Tchaikovsky as he made his was to the library.


Even though there was so much potential for memories to start exploding from nowhere unchecked in the library, he couldn't help but go. He had spent so much time crafting every detail, and it was by far his favourite room. He was shocked, however, to see Ciera sitting at the table he always sat in...in his spot.

 

[Shadow Cat]

As they walking into the house, Ciera put on a pair of latex gloves. It was dark inside, few bulbs inside the abandoned building. Anderson was talking, but she was focused more on the murder itself than what he was saying.

 

[Circledude5]

"What are you doing here?" Sherlock asked her. She didn't respond; she was reading a book.


...one of his memories?


"Hey!" He shouted. He ran up and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Don't look at that!"


"Don't look at what, Sherlock?" She had morphed into Moriarty. "Oh, you don't want me to look at this?" Sherlock's grip had gone slack in his surprise, and the Irishman threw him off and held up the memory.


"Don't touch that!" Sherlock protested, "It's-that's private!"

 

[Shadow Cat]

Ciera walked behind Anderson, pulling her phone out of her pocket just quick enough to type a fast message without him knowing. She glanced down as she typed and walked.


Sherlock,


We have another one.


After sending the address, she walked into the room, immediately seeing the difference between this victim and the others. Torture had obviously taken place, unlike in the others where the death had been quick. She was missing a few fingernails, and ligature marks covered her wrists and ankles.


"This wasn't done by the same person." She commented.


"What makes you say that?"


Seriously? My god, I work for an imbecile.

 

[Circledude5]

Sherlock was ripped from his thoughts by the sound of his phone from his inside pocket. That was odd -- he could have sworn that he'd turned it off. Guess not. He'd have to check up on that.


Putting his violin down, he reached into his pocket and retrieved his phone. The screen was illuminated with a message from Ciera.

 

[Shadow Cat]

She waited for Anderson to gesture toward the body, indicating that he wanted her to check it out before walking over to it. Bending down, she examined the ligature marks to get a time frame on the woman's death before shifting position to look at something else.

 

[Circledude5]

The message had an address on it, and, without a second thought, Sherlock had stood up, his violin back in its case. He got his coat and pulled it on before running down the stairs.


He was actually in the middle of the street hailing a taxi when he came to his senses and noticed the incessant tapping on the second floor window of 221 Baker Street. He stepped awkwardly onto the kerb, looking up to see John glaring at him.

 

[Shadow Cat]

Ciera was still stooping next to the body, checking everything out. One of the woman's white gloves were missing, indicating the woman had most likely been out for a formal party or something of the like. Her gloves wouldn't have been white if there was even the slightest chance of getting something on them. Her hair was wet and matted against her head, so either the assailent took care to clean her body, or she hadn't been dead more than a few hours. Then, she noticed something else.

 

[Circledude5]

Sherlock looked up at John, who was yelling where the hell do you think you're going? His voice was muffled by the glass, so Sherlock could barely hear him. But the windows of John's room were thick and bullet proof (Sherlock had seen to that), so he must have been yelling quite loudly.


"Come down!" Sherlock shouted back, motioning with his hands in case his friend couldn't hear him. John gave him a filthy look, but disappeared from view. Sherlock would wait five minutes, then, if John didn't come, would leave without him. Sherlock took out his phone to text Ciera of the delay.


John might be coming. 5 min delay


SH

 

[Shadow Cat]

((Sorry it took so long. I never got the notification that you posted))


Her inspection was interrupted as her phone pinged. She got it out, glancing at the screen as she read the message from Sherlock. She heard Anderson say something about now not being the time for texting, but she had long since tuned him out.


Better Hurry. Anderson is getting testy.


She texted him back and put her phone back into her pocket, turning her attention back to the body.


"Burns on the fingertips..." She muttered to herself, examining the inflicted hand. "Chemical burns would be the best guess, considering the various trace chemicals found in the other bodies," she mumbled.


"My god, you're as bad as Sherlock," Anderson was frowning and shaking his head.


"Thanks," she said absentmindedly as she waded through a list of chemicals in her head.


"Wasn't a compliment." He replied.


But she wasn't listening. The killings weren't done by the same person but with similar MO, it seemed likely that the killers had the same boss. Then something else occurred to her. What if it had to do with combinations? She knew of some naturally occurring minerals like Hutchinsonite that formed from a mix of dangerous substances like lead, thallium, and arsenic. Or like the mineral Torbernite that was not only radioactive but also released radon gas if heated. Or like Orpiment that released a deadly neurotoxin if touched. Maybe these deaths were not done for the purpose of killing, but experimenting on human subjects? But if they were experimenting, what were they trying to discover?

 

[Circledude5]

((Whoa I didn't get a notif either and just thought to check now. If this isn't dead I'm happy to continue))


"Jesus Christ, Sherlock," was all John said as he slammed the door of 221 Baker street behind himself.


Sherlock raised his eyebrows, and there was a short standoff between them. John glared back, but after nearly twenty seconds he nodded towards the confused cabbie. "Are we going?"


"Exactly what I was about to ask you," Sherlock shot back. John shook his head, grabbing Sherlock by the arm and dragging him into the taxi with him. As soon as the door had shut, Sherlock smirked as John realised that he did not know where they were going. Smirking again, Sherlock gave the driver the address and slid the window shut.

 

[Shadow Cat]

((Horray to keeping this alive!))


Ciera stood after her inspection of the body, allowing Anderson to stoop down and attempt to see what she did. "So?" He asked, "What all did you find out?"


"I'll write it up in a report. It will be on your desk by the time I leave today." She replied absentmindedly, walking around the room to see if she could see anything out of the ordinary.


"Well, at least that's a pleasant change of pace from our little psychopath." He mumbled, lifting the arms of the body gently as he inspected for what she assumed would have been more burns. She knew he wouldn't find any, but she let him go on doing as he wanted. She figured it was easier to let him do it than explain how she knew it wouldn't matter.


"High functioning sociopath." She corrected. After a moment, she noticed he was looking at her. "What? It isn't a hard conclusion to come to."

 

[Circledude5]

(Yeah ok so I'm not receiving notifications for this idk why but I'll try and monitor more frequently)


Sherlock leapt out of the cab as before it came to a stop. John just shook his head irritably and paid the driver, who laughed at the annoyed expression on his face.


By the time John had caught up Sherlock had already entered the crime scene. He was about to follow when an officer spotted him and started telling him off.


"This is a crime scene; no civilians allowed in," he said.


John tried to explain that he wasn't a civilian, but the officer just nodded his head sarcastically and escorted him off the premises.


"You're lucky you're off with a warning," the offer told him. As soon as the officer was out of earshot, John swore loudly.

 

[Shadow Cat]

((Perhaps you no longer have it listed as a watched thread? If you want, I can begin messaging you every time I post))


What in the bloody hell was taking Sherlock so long?


Tired of waiting, and figuring she had learned everything she could from the crime scene, she decided to have a look out back. Exiting out the back of the building, she observed the back alley that separated this building from the next. There was nothing to be found, really, except for a small chunk of something on the pavement. It was silver and green, and had the appearance of a small rock. She stepped closer to examine it, only taking a moment to figure out what it was before she jumped backward, suddenly glad she hadn't touched it.


"Torbernite," She muttered. "Now where in the bloody hell is he getting all of these rare minerals and chemicals?" She supposed she had better get further back. After all, torbernite was radioactive. Opening the door, she looked over her shoulder and yelled, "Anderson! You might want to bring me some tongs, a Geiger counter, and a lead-lined box."


"What the bloody hell for?!" He yelled back incredulously.


"Radioactive rock." She yelled back before shutting the door as he ceased asking questions and Ciera heard a dial tone that meant he was either calling for her materials, or calling someone to come deal with the Torbernite instead of her.


Taking out her phone, she typed a quick message with a bit of sarcasm:


Radioactive rocks. What next?