[color=915356][B]EARTH-221B:[/B][/color] [INDENT]◼ [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5498881][color=Lightgray][b]HOLMES & WATSON[/B][/color][/url] [I]aka Sherlock Holmes & John Watson[/I] [color=2c2c2c][SUP][SUP]S T A T U S[/SUP][/SUP][/COLOR] [color=gray][SUP][i] As portrayed by DocTachyon[/i][/SUP][/color][/indent] [hider= here be spoilers and formatting wip] Prototype Sheet [center][color=silver][sup][i]"To transform into the world’s mightiest mortal, Kamala Khan must simply say…"[/i][/sup][/color][/center] [CENTER][sup][h1][center][img]Header/Banner[/img][/center][b][i][center][color=yellow] S H A Z A M ![/color] [color=red]S H A Z A M ![/color][/center] [/i][/b][/h1][/sup] [/CENTER][table][row][/row][row][cell][center][sub][sup][sub][h3][b][color=black] C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T[/color] [color=lightgray]C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T[/color] [/b][/h3][/sub][/sup][/sub][sup]_________________________________________________________[/sup][img]https://intpolicydigest.org/wp-content/uploads/2013/11/1500103512574.jpg[/img] [sup]_________________________________________________________[/sup][sub][sup][sub][h3][b][color=black] C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y[/color] [color=lightgray]C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y[/color][/b][/h3][/sub][/sup][/sub][sup]_________________________________________________________[/sup] [sub][COLOR=darkgray]Kamala Khan[/COLOR] [b]|[/b] [COLOR=darkgray]Captain Marvel[/COLOR] [sup]_________________________________________________________[/sup] [COLOR=darkgray]Student[/COLOR] [b]|[/b] [COLOR=darkgray]15[/COLOR] [b]|[/b] [COLOR=darkgray]Jersey City[/COLOR] [sup]_________________________________________________________[/sup] [COLOR=darkgray]Prime Multiverse 668[/COLOR] [b]|[/b] [color=green]Open[/color][COLOR=darkgray] to Collaborators[/COLOR][/sub][/center] [indent][sub][sup][sub][h3][b][color=black] C H A R A C T E R N O T E S[/color] [color=lightgray]C H A R A C T E R N O T E S[/color][/b][/h3][/sub][/sup][/sub][/INDENT][sup]_________________________________________________________[/sup] [INDENT][hider=][color=#2e2c2c]-[/color] [indent][sub][b][color=lightgray] S U P P O R T I N G C A S T[/color][/b][/sub] [sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ [COLOR=darkgray][color=lightgray][b]►[/b][/color] The Khans[/color] - Kamala’s parents, Yusuf and Muneeba, and her brother, Aamir, never really seem to get what’s going on with Kamala. They support her in their own ways, but that support can often chafe. [COLOR=darkgray][color=lightgray][b]►[/b][/color] Bruno Carelli[/color] - Kamala’s best friend. He’s a science whiz and almost as big of a superhero geek as she is. [COLOR=darkgray][color=lightgray][b]►[/b][/color] Carol Danvers[/color] - Captain Marvel, the greatest hero around! Since first appearing on Earth in the late 80s, Captain Marvel has proudly protected the solar system and beyond from all manner of threats. Plus, she’s the star of too many of Kamala’s fanfictions to count. But she's the other Captain Marvel, according to… [COLOR=darkgray][color=lightgray][b]►[/b][/color] Billy Batson[/color] - The original Captain Marvel, active in the 40s and on. Somehow, though, Kamala has never heard of him. [COLOR=darkgray][color=lightgray][b]►[/b][/color] Trixie Tawny[/color] - Granddaughter of the late Talkative Tawny. [COLOR=darkgray][color=lightgray][b]►[/b][/color] Sunny Sparkle[/color] - The world's nicest boy. Kamala and Bruno’s classmate.[/sup] [color=#2e2c2c]-[/color][/indent][/hider][/INDENT][indent][sub][sup][sub][h3][b][color=black] P O S T C A T A L O G[/color] [color=lightgray]P O S T C A T A L O G[/color][/b][/h3][/sub][/sup][/sub][/INDENT][sup]_________________________________________________________[/sup] [INDENT][hider=][color=#2e2c2c]-[/color] [indent][sub][b][color=lightgray] P O S T C A T A L O G[/color][/b][/sub] [sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ [COLOR=darkgray]◼ [/COLOR][/SUP] [color=#2e2c2c]-[/color][/indent][/hider][/INDENT][/cell][cell][INDENT][sub][sup][sub][h3][b][color=black] C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T[/color] [color=lightgray]C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T[/color][/b][/h3][/sub][/sup][/sub][/INDENT][sup]________________________________________________________________________________________[/sup] [COLOR=DARKGRAY][indent][b]”What if… Kamala Khan was Captain Marvel?”[/b] Hopeless superhero fangirl Kamala Khan always counted on secretly being a mutant. Or maybe she could breathe in some funky gas, or get into some kind of industrial accident and have chemicals splash all over her. Maybe next week she’d go on a field trip to the Jersey City Oscorp Satellite Lab and get bitten by a radioactive seagull. Not that seagulls were high on Kamala’s list of radioactive creatures to get bitten by (bottom ten, actually), but they were the only animals around here that Oscorp seemed to test on. And anyway, with seagull powers, she could at least fly like the real [i]Captain Marvel[/i]. Hopes of flying with Captain Marvel or not, Kamala remained a steadfastly normal girl, as normal as the only American-born child of Khandaqi immigrants can be in Jersey City. But now she finds herself drawn into the Jersey underground at the call of a hooded man, and the sight of a gleaming, futuristic train car… [/indent][/COLOR] [INDENT][sub][sup][sub][h3][b][color=black] P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )[/color] [color=lightgray]P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )[/color][/b][/h3][/sub][/sup][/sub][/INDENT][sup]________________________________________________________________________________________[/sup] [COLOR=DARKGRAY][INDENT]The origin story of the one and only Captain Marvel! Well, the [i]third[/i] Captain Marvel at this point, but that won’t quash Kamala’s optimism. I’ve always thought Kamala and Billy were relatively similar characters, pure heated kids with baggage nonetheless, given an awesome power that recontextualizes their world and how they fit into it. I’m enchanted by the fluffy optimism of early Captain Marvel stories, and I’m extremely interested to contrast that energy with the paranoia of an oncoming invasion. Kamala’s position as the child of immigrants will give her perspective on the new immigrants and the new invaders arriving from beyond the stars, and the incredible power of the new Captain Marvel will shake up the superhero community as we know it![/INDENT][/COLOR][/cell][/row][/table] Prototype post header [center][img]IMAGE HERE[/img][/center] [sup][b]Earth 668 - Secret Invasion[/b][right][i]Captain Marvel[/i] #1 - [i][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kWZy5o9Eq9U]Title goes here[/url][/i][/right][/sup] [sup][right]Jersey City, New Jersey -- other details[/right][/sup] [hr] [/hider] [hider= alt idea] [center][color=silver][sup][i]Sherlock Holmes and John Watson in...[/i][/sup][/color][/center] [COLOR=SLATEGRAY][CENTER][sup][h1][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/lqBwuez.png[/img][/center][b][center][color=black] S H A D O W O F T H E B A T[/color] [color=lightgray] S H A D O W O F T H E B A T[/color][/center] [/b][/h1][/sup] [/CENTER][table][row][/row][row][cell][center][sub][sup][sub][h3][b][color=black] C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T[/color] [color=lightgray]C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T[/color] [/b][/h3][/sub][/sup][/sub][sup]_________________________________________________________[/sup][img]https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/4/4f/Strand_paget.jpg[/img] [sup]_________________________________________________________[/sup][sub][sup][sub][h3][b][color=black] C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y[/color] [color=lightgray]C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y[/color][/b][/h3][/sub][/sup][/sub][sup]_________________________________________________________[/sup] [sub][COLOR=darkgray]John H. Watson | Sherlock Holmes[/COLOR] [sup]_________________________________________________________[/sup] [COLOR=darkgray]Consulting Detective[/COLOR] [b]|[/b] [COLOR=darkgray]Scotland Yard[/COLOR] [sup]_________________________________________________________[/sup] [COLOR=darkgray]Multiverse 221B[/COLOR] [b]|[/b] [COLOR=darkgray]Inquire about Collaboration[/COLOR][/sub][/center] [indent][sub][sup][sub][h3][b][color=black] C H A R A C T E R N O T E S[/color] [color=lightgray]C H A R A C T E R N O T E S[/color][/b][/h3][/sub][/sup][/sub][/INDENT][sup]_________________________________________________________[/sup] [INDENT][hider=][color=#2e2c2c]-[/color] [indent][sub][b][color=lightgray] M I S C E L L A N E O U S[/color][/b][/sub] [sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ [COLOR=darkgray][color=lightgray][b]►[/b][/color] Core Cast[/color] Sherlock Holmes Mycroft Holmes John H. Watson Mary Watson, nee Morstan Mrs. Hudson Inspectors Lestrade, Gregson, and Jones Bruce Wayne Commissioner Gordon [COLOR=darkgray][color=lightgray][b]►[/b][/color] [url=https://i.imgur.com/IkP6fHH.png]Wayne/Kane Family Tree[/url][/color][/sup] [color=#2e2c2c]-[/color][/indent][/hider][/INDENT][indent][sub][sup][sub][h3][b][color=black] P O S T C A T A L O G[/color] [color=lightgray]P O S T C A T A L O G[/color][/b][/h3][/sub][/sup][/sub][/INDENT][sup]_________________________________________________________[/sup] [INDENT][hider=][color=#2e2c2c]-[/color] [indent][sub][b][color=lightgray] P O S T C A T A L O G[/color][/b][/sub] [sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ [COLOR=darkgray]◼ [/COLOR][/SUP] [color=#2e2c2c]-[/color][/indent][/hider][/INDENT][/cell][cell][INDENT][sub][sup][sub][h3][b][color=black] W H A T I F...?[/color] [color=lightgray]W H A T I F...?[/color][/b][/h3][/sub][/sup][/sub][/INDENT][sup]________________________________________________________________________________________[/sup] [COLOR=DARKGRAY][indent][i]What if Sherlock Holmes met the Batman of the 1800s?[/i] Dear Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, It is my sincerest hope this letter finds you well. I write you now to congratulate you on the success of your most recent novel, [i]The Maracot Deep[/i]. Once again sir, you have proven yourself a masterful storyteller. Your prose remains as illuminatory as ever, with your particular attention to the vast seas and the handcrafted details with which you suffuse your Atlantean culture. I am reminded as ever, of how I could not have picked a more exemplary editor or agent for my [i]Sherlock Holmes[/i] stories. It is on the subject of Holmes I write as well. As you know from our correspondence on ‘[i]His Last Bow[/i]’, rheumatism has crept upon me in my old age. As a consequence of this affliction, I have been forced to give up the pen, spare the occasional correspondence, though once Holmes passed on I found little reason to continue, even with such trifling writings. I had few to correspond with, spare yourself, though I know you to be embroiled in the dramas and grand motions of the ever shifting literary world, leaving you little time to respond to one who has not been in that world in decades. Instead, I cherished what time I had left with my Mary, she as gray and wrinkled as I, yet as radiant as the day we met. I thank you for your letter of condolence for her loss from last year, though I failed to reply to it. You may have thought my response lost in the throes of my grief, but on the contrary, it has remained upon the top of my mind. Each time I take up my pen in these gnarled knuckles to begin my epistle, even as pain flares through my fingers, I am drawn back to my halcyon adventuring days with Holmes, and the plethora of stories I submitted to your humble office -- but most of all, I remembered those stories which I did [i]not[/i] submit. Despite the breadth of my oeuvre, there are those cases which I or Holmes had deemed unfit for public consumption. As you know, Holmes and I often altered or omitted details in our submissions, as to better protect and preserve the privacy and dignity of affected parties. You will recall, for instance, the legendary scandal centered around the photographs in possession of one Irene Adler, in reality photographs of His Majesty Edward VII, late of Great Britain, whom we disguised as the king of the fictitious nation of Bohemia. Nevertheless, there are still stories which we elected not to submit even in modified form, deeming them unsuitable for mass publication. The reasons for such omissions are as multitudinous as they are varied. In many instances, this was owed less to our discretion and more to the singular natures of the cases, which we deemed to be of a quality so implausible or, indeed, even absurd, as to defy reason and beggar belief. These events, queer as though they may appear, are nonetheless as real as Holmes’s battles with the infamous Dr. Moriarty, and had an equally profound impact upon my late companion’s career. Despite the profundity of these cases, and the soundness of my past motivations to conceal them, as I advance in age, one collection of such cases lays restless in the belfry of my mind, and inspires my fingers to burn not with the pain of my condition, but with the blazing desire to record it for posterity, and, indeed, perhaps share it with the world. As fantastical as the cases herein may be, at their heart lies an ultimately flawed, vulnerable man, as human as Holmes or I, whom is just as deserving of our discretion and respect, if not more so, than any individual I have protected within my prose. You may recall hearing news of the ‘Bat of Gotham’, an anonymous vigilante and detective whose powers rivaled or even exceeded those of Holmes. Indeed, you may even recall his brief appearance in London, much noted in many major publications. Though these events were seemingly unrelated to the exploits of my friend and I, this was yet another clever omission. For in reality we had undertaken a collaboration with the so-called ‘Batman’, and forged an enduring secret partnership. We would encounter the Bat many times hence, and over the course of our campaign, we came to know his innermost secrets. Included amongst these secrets, and indeed amongst fantastical details of the enclosed cases, is the true identity of the Bat, which Holmes, Mary, and I finally uncovered during our extended stay in Gotham some years ago. Thus, attached to this letter you shall find a new Sherlock Holmes manuscript, entitled ‘The Shadow of the Bat’. Given the sensitivity of the details contained within this report, it is not to be published until the year of our Lord 1939, or after my passing, whichever should come first. The tale begins, as ever, in 221B Baker Street, on a cool summer’s evening in the year of 1890… -John H. Watson M.D., July 1929 [/indent][/COLOR] [INDENT][sub][sup][sub][h3][b][color=black] P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )[/color] [color=lightgray]P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )[/color][/b][/h3][/sub][/sup][/sub][/INDENT][sup]________________________________________________________________________________________[/sup] [COLOR=DARKGRAY][INDENT]I have been reading [i]a lot[/i] of Holmes lately. Over the last year or two I’ve been through the originals twice and several series of pastiches. Comic book fan that I am, I wondered if the Great Detective had ever crossed over with Batman, only to find only two such official instances. One features Holmes as a decrepit, impossibly old man, essentially saving the day at the end of one of Batman’s cases. The other is an episode of Batman the Brave and the Bold in a tale with elements of time travel. I want to tell a story that is slightly more grounded than either of these tales (no magic anti-aging honey and no time travel), but also one thats able to take more time to get more out of the premise. In the comic Holmes is only there for a few pages, and in the show, only a single episode. I think told in this fashion, I can plumb greater depths of both characters, holding them up as mirrors to one another. Batman is nominally an update of Holmes, so I think it will be very instructive to measure those ways they do and don’t match up. As well, I hope to have Holmes encounter a handful of other curious comic characters, each made Victorian in their own ways.[/INDENT][/COLOR][/cell][/row][/table][hr][/COLOR] [/hider] [hider= proto post] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/rNs4BuF.jpeg[/img] [hider=Paget Illustration][img]https://media.mutualart.com/Images/Articles/04_2022/28/905e27e1-cfad-4d52-b899-2ab7a3505e95-Sidney%20Paget,%20I%20Fell%20into%20a%20Brown%20Study%20from%20The%20Resident%20Patient,%201892.Jpeg[/img][/hider] [hr] [/center] [center]The Adventure of the Dutch Diamonds Part I[/center] I called upon my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, in the summer of 1890, to find him ensconced upon 221B’s chaise lounge, wreathed in the smoke that emanated from his pipe. His long fingers probed the toe of his Persian slipper for another pinch of tobacco to fill his bowl. I counted myself lucky at least that Holmes had chosen tobacco as his poison of the day, as opposed to the cocaine solution he was known to select in the blackest depths of his boredom. It was habits like these, among his other Bohemian qualities, that rendered him quite undesirable as a roommate for most men, thus why Baker Street had remained with a sole tenant in the year since I was wed to Mary. “Watson! This is a surprise!” He said. “Oh, don’t get up, Holmes,” I said, placing my hat upon the rack, and righting the newspaper I carried in my arm, “I come with something of a surprise myself.” “Do not trouble yourself, dear fellow,” said my friend, “I intuit the nature of the surprise you purport to bring.” “Yet you still say I surprise you? I shall count that as a victory, against one so observant as Sherlock Holmes.” My friend laughed and waved me to sit in the leather armchair opposite him. “Only with your appearance here at Baker Street, Watson. I should have thought you engaged in mingling with Mary’s visiting relations. Though I suspect now that Mary indulges in the feminine kinship of her dear cousins, and has left you to your own devices?” Though Holmes’ observational trickery was far from new to me, it astounded me as ever. My mouth sat agape. “How could you possibly derive such facts? I have never informed you about Mary’s relations, much less their plans for travel. Even if I had, surely the assumption would be that I am off to visit them as well?” “You are aware of my methods, Watson. As ever, it was through simple observation. I see your tie’s knot tends to the right, indicating you have done it yourself on this occasion. As well, I see the tie has returned to its state of military tightness, as opposed to Mary’s marginally more breathable loops. On the subject of your dress, I observe your pocket square is pressed and folded in the military style, whereas your wife would have applied a more decorative flourish. Finally, I see that you have breakfasted alone, for a sparse sprinkling of crumbs still exists in your moustache. Mary would have certainly detected these and dispensed with them before seeing you out the door.” “It is a wonder I can make it out at all without her!” I brushed my moustache self consciously. “As to Mary's relations, it is not as impressive as it may appear… I have already read the society pages I see you carry in your underarm.” Holmes continued, “I recalled the details of our investigation into the activities of Bartholomew Sholto. In specific, that your late father in law, Captain Morstan, has a widow, a Mrs. Rebecca Morstan, who returned to America upon his death. Her maiden name, so dutifully recorded in your notes, was Kane. I see therefore in these pages that a Katherine and Bette Kane have recently arrived in London, a pair of an approximately similar age to your Mary, from the same city Mrs. Morstan was said to retire. It was a rather simple inference from there.” “A marvellous deduction,” I declared. “An elementary one,” Holmes said, “but perhaps an instructive example for your writings.” “It was a stumbling point on my part, to think you unaware of the movements of prestigious Gothamites,” I admitted. “I should think one such as yourself to be professionally invested in the goings-on of the so-called ‘Capital of Crime.’” “It is, in fact, a point of some irritation. The appearance of society figures such as these in London are wont to drown out such features as I search for in the various rags about town. The spaces of gossip publication typically reserved for those most scintillating crimes on which I thrive is often replaced with information on the comings and goings of such individuals,” Holmes said, “as well, I allow that the innumerable crimes reported out of Gotham City are not themselves without their interesting points, but what reports of them reach across the Atlantic are given to the most extreme kind of sensationalism.” I had known Holmes to allow certain gaps in his knowledge, but this seemed a most curious one to me. Surely, one would reason, a consulting detective of Holmes’ calibre would derive great analytical experience from the kinds of bizarre tales to originate in Gotham, but Holmes was known to eschew that knowledge not essential in his business as a London detective. In the past he has claimed no knowledge of the Earth’s orbit about the sun, and in fact, had claimed the reverse, and though I suppose he was pulling my leg, it does not fail to illustrate the theme of Holmes’ focus on specific, esoteric interests. “A handful of crimes do manage to stand out. There was the Nashton case from last year, a criminal that baffled American law enforcement with a series of logical problems and deadly riddles. Yet for the most part, the news is too full of tales of huge bats, undead men, and all manner of esoterica. Nothing to take too seriously,” Holmes assured me. “I have known Mary to believe some of it. Perhaps on the morrow I can solicit the opinions of her cousins and their guests?” I offered. Mary’s relations had in fact arrived with an entourage. The morning’s edition enumerated that, aside from the Kanes, London would play host to Mary’s other cousin, a Mr. Bruce Wayne, as well as a number of family friends, Misters Cobblepot, Dent, and Bennett. A number of other Gothamites had arrived alongside them (the evident recipients of the same group travel sweepstakes that allowed the Kanes opportunity to attend), though those named were the only ones I planned to host for brunch the following morning. We had only learned of their arrival ourselves the previous evening, scarcely in advance of the news, and had been kindly pressed into the arrangement at cousin Bette’s request, though Mary was not displeased with the arrangement. Holmes only offered a shrug, and said “ as much as I appreciate the offer, such anecdotal evidence would hardly lend credence to these stories. At any rate, it shall have little bearing on our daily concerns… Or those of the familiar man approaching our doorstep.” Holmes had rightly identified the peak of a custodian’s helmet, bobbing up Baker Street’s stairs and appearing through Holmes’ windows. Holmes was up and across the room to the door instantly, leaving his still smouldering pipe askew on his lounger. I pushed myself up from my seat, ignoring the dull, cold throb of pain from the old war wound on my leg, and hobbled to collect the pipe before its burning ashes set the good landlady’s furniture alight, as Holmes allowed our guest to enter before they had occasion to knock. “Inspector Lestrade! To what do we owe your most singular presence?” Holmes asked. Lestrade trod in on muddy boots, having failed to clean them on the stoop. He was a thin gentleman with a weasel-like face, complete with a most animal tenacity in his approach to policework. Holmes counted him as one of Scotland Yard’s best, though to Holmes’ word, finding a good policeman in London was like finding a good surgeon in a ragged school. “I perceive you are in something of a rush, Inspector.” I observed, in my own small deduction. “Furthermore, I perceive you to have come from Northern London. Bloomsbury, if I do not miss my guess,” Sherlock began, about to launch into the chain of reasoning from which he derived his conclusion, when he was cut off by Lestrade. “If you shall let me get a word in edgewise, I would be appreciative!” Lestrade’s typically jocular manner was gone from him, and his hand remained upon the door’s handle. “I apologise for the outburst gentlemen, but we must hurry. A body has turned up, indeed in Bloomsbury, and the inspector in charge of the case has identified it as an accident. The chain of an old chandelier broke suddenly and crashed down upon the victim's head. A miserable circumstance, but one hard to attribute to anything but that, happenstance. In truth, I have trouble arguing with his reasoning, and yet it does not sit right with me. The attending officer is closing up the crime scene shortly, so I rushed to collect your opinion.” “Why should the crime scene be not shuttered? What about the poor fellow’s demise stands out to your intuition?’” Holmes pressed. I could see that Lestrade’s statement had already stirred the voracious detective within. He leaned forward with a keen ear, hands clasped. Lestrade cheeks reddened, and he rubbed his hand over his forehead, finding the will to articulate the source of his doubt with appropriate brevity. He appeared almost embarrassed. “To put it to you simply Mister Holmes, I feel the crime scene is too… [i]Wet[/i], in a word.” “Too [i]wet[/i]? In England?” I chuckled at the notion. “I should hardly think such a thing possible. After all, we have had that most tumultuous thunderstorm just yesterday evening…” “Yet, the most illuminatory member of Scotland Yard still sees fit to bring it to our attention. Surely he would have already checked the establishment for leaks or any obvious cause,” Holmes began. I almost chastised him for what I thought an opaque jape, but the backhanded remark seemed lost on Lestrade. Holmes digressed, “my dear Lestrade… If it was any of your esteemed colleagues in Baker Street today, or indeed, was the colour of today’s humour anything but the dullest shade of boredom, I might deny your request for the sparsity of details you provide, but you have proven yourself over the years to be intermittently capable of identifying those cases which appeal to my sensibilities. If it would please friend Watson to join us in this endeavour, then I would be most happy to join you.” Holmes said, his eyes questing for some answer from me. It had been nearly a year since Holmes and I had been engaged together on a case, the most recent being the matter of the ghastly Hound of the Baskervilles in the fall of last year. At the time, aside from my work on my medical practice, my schedule was largely occupied in transforming that self same adventure into a novel, as I had already done for two of our previous adventures to some success. “A new case would most certainly help with my writing process, so long as I am returned to my Mary at a reasonable hour. I must get some small rest if I am to be a good host for tomorrow's brunch,” I said. “You shall have time to prepare a magnificent, slow cooked roast. I do suspect this will be naught but a trifle,” Holmes said breezily, already tying his boots. “Come along, gentlemen, I’ve a dogcart waiting to take us to the scene.” Lestrade said. He held open our mahogany door. Coat and hat in hand, my companion and I crossed the threshold of our rooms at Baker Street, and out into our first warm night in a brand new world. [/hider]