Rasberries |(Watson) (INACTIVE)

[IRENE ADLER]

Irene started to walk up the stairs towards those two apartment by what she meant by those two well lets just say 1 was the man she loved the other the one who prevented her from getting into his shoes and living confortably and also hated her, why did his best pal have to hate her, her the woman who most of the time actually well kinda brought some sense to his life.

Turning around she noticed a gun shot being fired at her as she dodged it and turned around to notice a tall man staring at her as he had his hand out streached and smiled snickered oh this was going to be good and by good she meant that she was going to kick this mans ass and she was going to stand first then run tackle him and knock him out senseless.

An she had to act fast before another fire was shoot and she would end up dead , standing she started to tackle the man as she holded him down and cuffeed his hands to his back and started to break his nose as she grabbed the gun first and started to disarm it and turned around to find an open
door.

Looking down at the ground she chuckled as she hit the mans face once again and stood up placing her heel along the mans throat as she started to brush her hair off her face and looked at whoever was in front of her well was he not going to say hello.

[chess]

Having finished with his last bit of writing for the day, Jay decided it was time to tidy up around the apartment before Holmes decided to return to their shared living space...whenever that was going to be, whenever Holmes finally got bored of whatever was keeping him out. At least if Jay tidied up a little, Holmes wouldn't break anything, including himself, in trying to get into the place and go to his bed. He started with his own room. It didn't hold a place in the journey from the front door to Holmes' room, but it would help him sleep easier later. He tucked the books that littered his desk into their rightful places in the various bookcases that lined most of the wall space in the room. He pulled the windows shut as cool air began to swarm in from outside, making the atmosphere feel a little uncomfortable for him before leaving his room, closing the door behind him and making his way to the living room. He paused part way into the room, letting out a sigh and tucking his hands into his pockets as he looked around.

He tried to decide where on Earth to begin with this room. It was where Holmes spent a great deal of his time when his room had become even too much of a state for him to contend with. He pulled his hands from his pockets, brushing one through his hair before he decided just to start with what was closest to him. It wasn't how he liked to work, but when he didn't really see any other choice, it was his only way around things. He milled through the tidying as much as he could, feeling somewhat disgusted with the level of mess. By some people's standards, it would have been seen as nothing, but by Watson's standards, it was a terrible mess. As he continued with his tidying, he certainly couldn't have excepted what happened next: the sound of gun fire echoed through the building and the sound of shuffling feet and a fight broke out in the hallway outside. “What the...?” he mumbled to himself, as he rushed to his room to pick up his own gun.

He wasn't going to check the situation if he was likely to get shot without being able to fight back. He returned to the main door, pressing his ear against the wood to listen for the further sounds of the continuing scuffle in the hallway. He pulled the door open, grasping his gun in both hands and looking around quickly. He felt the disappointment flood through him as his eyes caught sight of her: Irene Adler, just another habit that Holmes couldn't seem to kick. He let out a sigh lowering the gun and leaning against the door frame, one hand still grasping the gun, half tempted to point it at the woman, the other hand tucked into his pocket. “As a doctor, I should point out you will kill him if you carry on,” he observed in a drawling tone. “And as someone of a higher authority than you, I should also point out that you could get arrested for that,” he went on, slightly entertained by the idea of Irene FINALLY being arrested for something.

Watson's room.
Living room (self-serve bar built into the left hand wall).

[IRENE ADLER]

Irene looked up at Watson as she sighed, she hated him when he was dull and was always going on about how she was going to far with the man who was trying to kill her, " mmm I highly doubt that you could , Holmes would not like that." she told him sticking out her tongue as she kicked the man who had tried to kill her and stepped over towards watson.

Her hand sliding along his shirt as she sighed and stepped away leaning on the wall as she pushed herself inside the building and looked around , very nice place that they had picked out she noticed everything being so spotless, she never trully remembered back home in england their flat being so spotless. "Well at least your being clean" she teased bitting her lower lip.

she loved to push the mans buttons even thought they really could not get along at all , she really was displeased when he spoke in a tone that meant to make her walk out, she also hated that he was ever so protective of her lover her Holmes. Finding somewere to sit she ploped herself down on the sofa and started to take out her various weapons and set them down on the coffee table as she really did not want Watson to feel intimidated a little by an armed woman and it was only proper that she did that, even though really she did not like it one bit unarming herself just for the sake of being confortable.

Seeing the dog gladstone walk about she giggled and started to see it walking over towards her, " Gladstone hows my baby boy......" she squealed and saw the little guys tail wag in excitment. " did you miss mommy " she asked him and started to pet his head.

[chess]

Watson wanted nothing more than to return to the now ever so wonderful confines of his room, locking Irene Adler, the bane of his life with Holmes, out of the apartment, but he felt strangely obligated to make sure that she didn't kill the poor guy she was pinning to the floor. A scowl formed on his face as she spoke and poked her tongue out at him. It seemed somewhat ironic that the first words out of her mouth to him included Holmes' name. His gaze flicked from Irene to the man on the floor for a moment as she stood up. His scowl deepened and he lowered his head to watch her hand run along his shirt. “Your games might work on Holmes, but you know full well that they don't work on me,” he observed, lifting his eyes to her face just before she pushed her way into the apartment. “Please, do come in,” he muttered sarcastically, taking one last glance at the man on the floor before entering the apartment and closing the door behind him.

He wasn't exactly thrilled by the idea of Irene knowing where they lived, let alone being there now with him. He considered her teasing words as he brushed past her to return his gun to a safe place in his room. “If you hadn't noticed Sherlock isn't here,” he called from his room, unhappy with leaving Irene alone in the living room, but he would have been even unhappier having her near his gun. Returning to the doorway of his room, he leant against the frame. “Hence why it's tidy for the moment,” he finished as he tucked his hands into his pockets, eyes dropping to the array of weapons Adler was laying out on the table, scowl returning to his features. “What could one possibly need with all that?” he questioned without thinking. This was Irene Adler. She was always armed in some way or other. His eyes shifted to Irene finally, watching her mother Gladstone for a moment. “He's hardly a baby...” he began sarcastically before realising that wasn't worth the argument. “What do you want?” he asked sharply.

[IRENE ADLER]

Irene heard watson tell her that Gladstone was not a baby , but it was her baby and she would always consider him like her baby even though it belonged to Watson.

It was just a natural thing with her to be all lovable with the only creature she knew that was in this house that loved her,but she also did not really know for sure if the dog in question really did love her at all or it was all just a way for him to get petted.

But seeing Watsons face the look in his eyes , the way he spoke to her it was all the clear signals that she was in fact not welcomed at all in the house, but she needed a place to hide and could not really find a better spot to do so.

So he either had to lighten up or kick her out, and kicking her out would not be the very best of options since she could use the upper hand of the uncofortable situation that they were living in right at then moment.

The reason why she had the upper hand was because for once she had more weapons than him, and second of all she was also the budding love interest of his pal Holmes so that deserved some respect, well just a little.

Standing she started to take of her coat and hat from her head as she left them on the arm chair and started to walk over to the kitchen and grabbed a kitchen knife and cutting board,sighing she looked around wondering if they had eaten anything at all. " do you mind if I cook..." she yelled from the kitchen hoping that he would say yes.

[chess]

Watson watched Irene closely as she continued to mother Gladstone and seemingly ignore his words about the dog not being a baby. What was it with people and making out that their pets are their babies? What was worse was that Gladstone wasn't even her pet. Gladstone belonged to him and somewhat to Holmes, even to Mary, despite her not being there. Maybe it was a female thing. Neither he nor Sherlock mothered Gladstone as much as Irene or Mary did. Granted, Sherlock used Gladstone as a means to an experimental end a lot of the time, which wasn't too good for the dog, but that seemed to be the closest Gladstone would get to mothering affection from Sherlock or himself. They had that right balance of care for the dog, of course, as was the way between an owner and their pet, but there was never an instance where they saw Gladstone as if he were a child. He was a dog. Hands tucked into his pockets, he continued to observe Irene.

What could she possibly want? It was an interesting question, considering Holmes wasn't at home. She should know that Jay didn't care for her at all now. She was just a thorn in his side, disrupting things with Holmes on an irregular basis. He might not mind so much if Holmes would just talk about it, just once, or if he truly understood what was going on. Then again, he wasn't sure he wanted to know what was going on between the two of them. It didn't seem right at all. Holmes had always had this...thing for Adler and Watson could only put it down to her being the only criminal that had ever outsmarted Holmes, so that had sparked an instant interest for the unfathomable detective, obviously. Holmes might find her interesting, but Watson only ever saw her as an interference. He scowled as she took her coat and hat off, clearly making herself at home and wandered over to the kitchen. What on Earth was she up to? She couldn't possibly think she was welcome here.

He opened his mouth to make an observation when he noted the kitchen knife in her hand, causing his mouth to close and his jaw to tighten. He was slightly taken aback when she asked if he mind if she cooked. “Cook?” he repeated in question. “You want to cook?” he asked. His scowl deepened and he let out a sharp, irritated breath before marching towards the kitchen and standing in the doorway. He continued to scowl, shaking his head in disbelief as he took in the scene before him: Irene Adler in his kitchen being all domestic with the intention of cooking. “Irene...” he began before he considered with what he would continue with. Letting her irritate him would mean that she would win the battle of wills in this instance. He shook his head once again before speaking. “Do what you like,” he said simply before turning away from her and moving back into the living room. He wasn't sure how wise an idea it was to have his back to a woman like Irene Adler whilst she was brandishing a kitchen knife.

[cuervo]

This thread has been inactive for over a month. I'm just checking in to see if the players have plans to continue or if they feel the thread is dead and can be moved to archives.

[IRENE ADLER]

She noticed that he was ever so displeased with her coming here. How had she found the building, that was the real question that he should be asking. Not actually try and kick her out of the complex, for his dear life but rather show some respect. Because she was here, and she was in the task of cooking. Her monitoring had helped, noticing the little habits of feeding, and noticed that they were not feeding themselves.

Oh how boys could be so lazy ,and not get the proper nutrition that they required. But fed themselves rather on Alcohol ,and canned food. This was not good, not good at all so he should rather be thankfully. Hearing him say that there was no need to cook, she exited the kitchen and saw his features on his face grow pale a smirk playing across her lips as she really could handle the man that was Jay Watson. The figure of Gladstone walking
into the kitchen making her grin.

Irene heard Watson grow quiet at her standing near the kitchen holding the knife, which was good of him to shut his trap because she could use the knife in many ways. He would find it a little bit more than unpleasant, and this was not her playing around. She would use it indeed like she had on many of her victims before hand, but today she was coming on a peace treaty between the two of them.

Hoping that their relationship with one another could actually prosper, rather than turn ugly and make each other hate one another more. Turning back to her chore ,she took some onion and Garlic and a few ghastly sagging tomatoes to make a sauce. She was determined to not move, and not budge until the coast was clear of men who were after her.

How she could possibly know this was because of the group of men that were outside, searching pacing the street. How funny life was, at one moment she was being escorted out of the house of Sherlock Holmes and the next she was inside it once again cooking and being ever so observant about everything. “ You may want to settle down jay, there are people about.” she said signaling to him that he should calm down, or he and she would be in a whole lot of more trouble than was necessary.

Yet she would not so easily go down without a fight, without spilling just a teaspoon of blood. “ Maybe you can help me with the pasta” she informed him and started to stir the sauce stating it every once in a while, she had not cooked for the two men for the longest time . She could still remembered that she had a talent for the kitchen. But then she was also worried that Watson might think of her as a little bit of a disturbance to the peace, which she was actually. But she did not want to seem like it, and actually had wanted to be as friendly as possible due to her being chased and all.

Frowning she suddenly grabbed a wooden spoon and sent it flying in Watson's direction , “ Don't say my name” she whispered and started to crouch toward the door. Hearing footsteps , then dragging as the men that were outside were surely coming for their man who was badly bruised. Walking away she started to head back to the kitchen to check her sauce.

{Occ sorry for the wait but here it is..}}

[chess]

Jay wasn't exactly happy with her being here, he couldn't deny that, but he realised that he perhaps shouldn't be so pissy about this whole situation with Irene. Something told him that her oddball magnetism towards Holmes led her here, the woman having probably found the place well before today. She had a way of getting back to Holmes, despite the best efforts of John in trying to separate them when he could. They were a bad influence on one another. He wrinkled his nose slightly as the smell of the cooking sauce quickly reached his nose. It wasn't an entirely unpleasant smell. He just wasn't the best of friends with food at all at the moment. He'd pretty much lost his appetite altogether. Work wasn't going as smoothly as he would have hoped at the moment and he had noticed a definite decline in his flat mate's health, something that Holmes was clearly ignoring. As a doctor and as Holmes' friend, Jay was finding it very difficult to continue to ignore it himself.

He made his way to the nearest window, looking down into the busy street. “If you weren't here, I wouldn't have to settle down, would I?” he called in question, eyes flicking over the various people going about their day to day life down in the street below. “I'd be perfectly happy if you weren't here,” he mumbled to himself, sounding undoubtedly resentful. Granted, he'd not really had much planned for the day, but he hadn't counted on Irene Adler taking up his time. He couldn't understand why she was being so stubborn about leaving. What did she hope to achieve by bothering him like this? He scowled and slowly shuffled towards the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest defensively, when she suggested that he could help her with cooking the pasta. “Not a sight I think Holmes would be happy with if he returned,” he half mumbled to himself, watching Irene analytically. “I wouldn't like to interfere,” he said in a slightly louder tone, directed to the woman.

He rapidly uncrossed his arms when Adler threw a wooden spoon at him, catching it with both hands in a slightly clumsily manner. He had seen it coming, but hadn't thought it would reach him. He scowled again, observing the woman closely as she spoke and shifted towards the door to listen to the movement in the hall. If she hadn't caused the trouble, she would have had to be sneaking about. “Yes, honey,” he said sarcastically in a slightly loud voice, shaking his head at her current general demeanour in regards to the people outside as he wandered into the kitchen to the return to the spoon to it's rightful place. He turned to see Irene coming towards him again, moving out of the way when she moved passed him into the kitchen to check her sauce. He slowly backed up to leaning against the kitchen door frame and cross his arms over his chest. “Should I even ask what that was all about?” he questioned, referring to how he had found Irene in the hall.

[IRENE ADLER]

Generally speaking she would never tell any sort of personal information , but for Watsons sake and her own sanity in the matter she had to tell him at least a little information. But how would she mouth it out to him, that was the real question. Like every little matter with her, the details of how she came to be here and why she came to be here were strictly forbidden to ask. But to calm him down, and to not make him think that she was crazier than what she was she would provide him with the information.

" Lets just say the matter in which my appearance here is visible , is b because I stole a valuable object .. well actually 200 kilos of marijuana which are not here but stored close. oh yeah and I also murdered a man " she said this and returned to the kitchen with spoon in hand. Her fingers going to her lips as she bit her nails, should she have told that to a man who hated her that much. " To answer your questions about what makes Holmes happy and what makes him tick .. Lets just say you made the pasta. " she yelled and waited for the man to come to her , a face of fury was what she was expecting .

The information which she had provided, was one to really make character of any man or woman really.