consultsdetective | 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. ]