Greg Lestrade (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
consultsdetective) wrote2012-05-13 08:40 pm
consultsdetective) wrote2012-05-13 08:40 pm
Entry tags:
002 // Voice/Action
[ First things first, Greg Lestrade comes to in the usual way of most newly returned canon update recipients- distinctly lacking in some hope and immediately taking more concern with getting his clothes on. A task well-accomplished, thank you very much, because he seems to have good luck in finding those neatly folded near his area of entrance. From that, for the most part, to hell with everything, he wants to flip tables. Not that he... does this. It's just a very tempting idea, little bit of a rampage or something. Maybe another time. So then, journal first, town second. ]
Well, I've been off home and back in, looks like. If anybody noticed I was out to start with. Would've expected a holiday from this place to be a bit more relieving, but I suppose that's just what I get for making assumptions. [ His tone is decidedly less casual than it usually is- more just tired than honestly annoyed- but Lestrade doesn't bother elaborating. Not the sort of business you start going on about. There's a pause, and he's almost hesitant when he picks back up. ]
Everybody who's in from my London still present and accounted for? You know who you are, and if you're here you're someone I'll have to talk to this week, so you might as well put in. [ And another short pause because he's just going on at this point, isn't he. Well WHATEVER. ] Just give a shout, save me the trouble of tracking you down. [ For once. 8||| ]
[ And with that, he closes the journal for the time being; not quite before it manages to pick up a faint "Christ, I need a smoke."
Which, you know, he'll be going out to accomplish. Very important item on his list right there. Smokes, food, a drink, more clothes. Furniture... eh. Flat's still got something in it, likely as not, that should be fine for him. He does the town the courtesy of doing his smoking on a bench in the square as opposed to in a building. Not that Luceti's much for "don't smoke indoors", really, but still. ]
Well, I've been off home and back in, looks like. If anybody noticed I was out to start with. Would've expected a holiday from this place to be a bit more relieving, but I suppose that's just what I get for making assumptions. [ His tone is decidedly less casual than it usually is- more just tired than honestly annoyed- but Lestrade doesn't bother elaborating. Not the sort of business you start going on about. There's a pause, and he's almost hesitant when he picks back up. ]
Everybody who's in from my London still present and accounted for? You know who you are, and if you're here you're someone I'll have to talk to this week, so you might as well put in. [ And another short pause because he's just going on at this point, isn't he. Well WHATEVER. ] Just give a shout, save me the trouble of tracking you down. [ For once. 8||| ]
[ And with that, he closes the journal for the time being; not quite before it manages to pick up a faint "Christ, I need a smoke."
Which, you know, he'll be going out to accomplish. Very important item on his list right there. Smokes, food, a drink, more clothes. Furniture... eh. Flat's still got something in it, likely as not, that should be fine for him. He does the town the courtesy of doing his smoking on a bench in the square as opposed to in a building. Not that Luceti's much for "don't smoke indoors", really, but still. ]
[voice]
And this is all your business, is it?
[voice]
[Duh.]
[voice] 1/2
[voice]
If you want to ask questions for the sake of science [ whatever good the answers would actually even be ], you can ask 'em later. I'll need to talk to you and John, if he's still stuck with us. Face-to-face. [ And you know, Donovan. But he wants all his best chances of Sherlock actually turning up. ] May as well kill two birds with one stone.
[voice] - [filtered: 25%]
They're simple words, but they're damning for Lestrade. His tone says everything. His breath gives him away. And Sherlock steels himself.
His wings flutter under his jacket, nervous, but they can't be seen by the other man.
His voice, in the other hand, is unmoved. After he puts up a nice little filter.]
Time and place.
I'll come alone to talk.
Just the two of us.
[voice] - [filtered: 25%]
Fine- the two of us this time. My building, ground floor kitchen, three hours. [ Lestrade thinks he would like to keep this one out of 2-21 or his flat, if he can. Flats are more personal, kitchens are more or less neutral. And once is enough, in terms of getting into homes with business such as this. ] That work?
[ No plans to blow anything up in exactly three hours that he'll be impeding? ]
[voice] - [filtered: 25%]
[voice] - [filtered: 25%]
And then he will, of course, be in the kitchen around the given time, because that's how he does these things. ]
[voice/filtered 10% ]
[ Here since the broadcast started, and not all that keen on how 'have to talk' sounds. Lestrade has been out and... how far ahead did he go?
Naturally, Sherlock shows up, doing the investigating for him. Even if Lestrade's keeping a tight lip about it, it's quite clear what this chat is going to entail. Damn. ]
I'm stuck at the surgery another hour or so. Sherlock's not busy, though.
[ Right under the bus you go, prick. ]
You and I can catch up after?
[voice/filtered 10% ]
[ On here and Sherlock's not busy, naturally. ]
We can catch up anytime you like. I'm not exactly on a full schedule.
[voice/filtered 10% ]
[ A rough calculation says that Sherlock will probably not have much to say, but much to pump the DI for. It'll probably take an hour at most. So, cushioning either way... ]
Say about... three hours?
[ Let's just rip the bandage off, get it over with, all that... ]
[voice/filtered 10% ]
Three works for me.