They most certainly will not - I find no reason for you to be writing these stories and sending them for publication. It is one thing for you to chronicle our adventures for your own personal satisfaction [he pauses, crosses his arms over his chest and his tone takes on the same sort of childishness] but to exploit them for the general public?
[Sparing a glance over his shoulder, he turns back to the window with a frown tugging slightly at the corners of his lips.]
Wouldn't have ever written about them? Tut, no, you would've, but that is because you are precisely the type to need things laid out plainly. I do not grudge your desire to publish said stories, but the fact that you are quite fond of hyperbole.
We will just repost here. And we can pretend that nothing of the sort happened~
[Now that he has started laughing, he cannot quite stop - it might be the residual cocaine affecting his brain, or the lack of sleep, but it takes him a moment to calm down. Turning back to Watson, he takes a few steps away from the window.]
[Leaning against the back of the sofa, he's calming down quite a bit as he reclines idly. Though he cannot sit still, sitting up again after a few moments.]
I'm merely restless today - has the post come, yet? Any calls for our services?
[Taking them with vaguely trembling fingers, he makes no mention of it as he opens the first letter. Reading it quickly, he frowns and sets it aside and does the same with the second.]
When will people realize that misplacing objects does not warrant a detective but a thorough house cleaning? I suspect there will be much of the same here...
[He does take the time to open each of the pieces of mail, squinting at one for a moment before nodding to himself.]
[He pauses, noticeably both flattered and mildly flustered by this.]
But why - Of course, I'll do my best to assist her as I may, but surely if he is leading some apparent double life, than that is far more your expertise.
The manner in which he is leading a double life is cause for both of our involvement. But! That is for tomorrow.
[He pushes himself up and off of the sofa, abandoning the useless letters and pocketing the one he has decided to answer. Restless, he starts pacing behind the sofa slowly.]
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Holmes - Truly, had I any knowledge that you were so intently against their publications, I wouldn't have ever -
Typographical errors are unbecoming of Holmes :|
Wouldn't have ever written about them? Tut, no, you would've, but that is because you are precisely the type to need things laid out plainly. I do not grudge your desire to publish said stories, but the fact that you are quite fond of hyperbole.
We will just repost here. And we can pretend that nothing of the sort happened~
Surely, I write precisely as I have experienced it.
And this is why you play Watson xD
Surely, you jest, Watson.
I am going to take that as a very extreme compliment.~
I'm a doctor, not a writer, you can hardly accuse me of having the fancy of one.
'Tis a compliment <3
And yet you are writing and thus a writer.
Hoorah. <3
I suppose you are right - Must you laugh so?
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You so regularly comment on my stoic demeanor in a negative way - am I bothering you this... afternoon, dear Watson?
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[He closes the diary and sets aside the pen.]
It's entirely refreshing to see you enjoying yourself, though I do wish it was not at my own expense.
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[Leaning against the back of the sofa, he's calming down quite a bit as he reclines idly. Though he cannot sit still, sitting up again after a few moments.]
I'm merely restless today - has the post come, yet? Any calls for our services?
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[Sorting through a few letters, he hands them over to the other man, anxious to see if this evening will find them off on some mystery.]
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When will people realize that misplacing objects does not warrant a detective but a thorough house cleaning? I suspect there will be much of the same here...
[He does take the time to open each of the pieces of mail, squinting at one for a moment before nodding to himself.]
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Well, surely then you'll be able to assist her.
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She requests your services, specifically, Doctor. Part of the issue apparently deals in the medical field.
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But why - Of course, I'll do my best to assist her as I may, but surely if he is leading some apparent double life, than that is far more your expertise.
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[He pushes himself up and off of the sofa, abandoning the useless letters and pocketing the one he has decided to answer. Restless, he starts pacing behind the sofa slowly.]
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Well, then, what do you propose to do while we await tomorrow's arrival of Miss O'Brien?
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I could leave you to your writings, or, perhaps we could dine out.
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