whitechapelmod | TEST DRIVE

TEST DRIVE MEME

OPTION A

With the cooling weather came the changing of the leaves, the lighting of candles and the advertisements in all the shops and bulletin boards for the Annual Whitechapel Road Fall Festival. Overnight your quaint little neighborhood has been transformed from a typical Victorian-esque scene to well, a typical fall festival scene. Strings of lights have been wound between the lamps, scarecrows have been put up in shop windows that hold signs with arrows on them, directing you down the main street toward the park.

In the park, you'll find a small carnival. No big gaudy rides, of course, but booths set up by local businesses where they sell items from their shops. Games like bobbing for apples and pin the nose on the scarecrow have been scattered in the places between the face painting booths and cotton candy vendors. There's also booth offering food and drink-- and doesn't that cider just smell wonderful? Of course, they have hot chocolate too, if cider's not your thing.

Mingle and enjoy your night! But be careful-- you might just end up in the dunking tank..

OPTION B

You wake late in the morning to a strange chill in the air. The weather, sure, but also something else, something wrong in the energy. Maybe you've never been much of a person who believes in that sort of stuff-- energy, vibes, whatever-- so you brush it off and go about your day. It's not until you're out and about that you really start to notice something. The streets are mostly empty, the shops closed down. A cold wind blows through and makes you shiver as you turn down the street toward the Town Board. The papers flutter in the wind, but it doesn't matter, you're not reading them, you're reading the message written in red over all of them.

YOU WILL ALL BE PUNISHED.

Is that blood it's written in, or paint? It's hard to tell, but the color seeps into the fliers and advertisements-- "puppies, free to a good home" or "half off on all clothing TODAY ONLY"-- staining them, ruining them. You know without even turning and walking the extra block that something very bad has happened. Yellow tape surrounds the board, you just notice, and blocks the entrance to a nearby alleyway. An officer stands guard, but he looks pale and shaken. This isn't the first. Just last week, someone was killed too. The boy who delivered the milk. Eddie. Throat slashed and a message written in blood on the wall above him, similar to this one.

An ambulance arrives but you stay where you are, watching as more officers emerge from the alley, carrying something on a stretcher. Someone, you realize, because what else do they carry on stretchers? A shock of red, curly hair pokes out from the top and you think of the girl who runs the register in the bakery, a waitress from the cafe you tried last week, your sister back home who will (hopefully) never end up here. Could this really happen here? Some maniac killing people because they think you need to be punished? It's wrong, it's confusing, and it's terrifying, isn't it?

Make a top-level comment below, with whichever option you'd like in the subject, and maybe a little starter. Please also feel free to disregard the options and choose your own adventure! Below are links to the setting and premise, so feel free to use those as reference in guiding your post. Tag around and have fun!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You've seen the last murder. The cut will be clear across the throat, severing the carotid artery.

[That's assuming they were both killed in the same way. Sherlock wants to get a look at the body before anyone else disturbs the scene but they're already hauling her out into a the back of the Maria

Idiots.]

We need more data. [Sherlock pulls out the badge he's lifted from a local police men.] You know more medical than I do. Can you convince them to let you look at the body as if you're one of the medical examiners?

[John looks a bit unsure.]

This isn't London, Sherlock. If you get into trouble for using that badge, Lestrade can't cut you loose.

[They could both end up in jail here.]

But I try to convince them.

No, but a reputation can be built all the same. C'mon, John. Could be dangerous. [He smirks, handing off the badge to the doctor.] All we have to do is get enough out of them about the crime scene. Even if their minds are basic, they still have more information than we do.

[Look at him go; he's just so considerate, isn't he?]

[He thinks Sherlock might even enjoy starting from scratch in a new town and making himself a star all over again.]

You know that doesn't work every time.

[Yes it does, John. Yes it does. He's already following Sherlock to the crime scene. Could be dangerous.]

[The fandom that comes along with solving crimes is hardly what draws him to the job. Sherlock is immersed in solving the puzzle. That's his true interest. Building his reputation again is only a formality.]

No, of course it doesn't. It only works when it's convenient. Or inconvenient.

[Now, as for the police, Sherlock is more than capable of putting on the facade of someone with more authority than they ought to have. He hardly has to act for that to happen.]

What are the details on the girl? [To the strange looks he receives he motions between himself and John.] Consulting detectives. We've been assigned to the case specifically.

Consulting detectives? I've never heard of that sort.

Of course you haven't. I invented the job.

((ooc: we can stop here or play out some hilariousness between them and police. c: might be funny if they get arrested.))

[John tries to look just as confident, though he is a bit nervous. Will the police really fall for this? Already, he doesn't think it's going that well.

John clears his voice to draw some attention to himself.]

I'm also a doctor. I specialize in these... brutal cases. I hope you haven't contaminated the body before allowing me to examine it.

TEST DRIVE

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these basic bitches can't lock him up -pops collar-

lol daaayum

#pimplock

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