<sub>[Holmes hasn't been seen since the curse; that's because he's been ferreting around the apartments, staying on the down-low and finding himself some bases of operation. he's also been exploiting the "nothing really costs anything" bonus, and that will be evident when the video flickers on and shows him in a messy and half-Victorian style apartment (in the Larmline building, for the eagle-eyed). there are books everywhere, and papers, and clothing, tossed about and stacked and basically making the room look as if it's been occupied for over a year. it's a little dark in the apartment, and someone who cares to look past Holmes will notice that a great deal of the large windows have their curtains pulled over.

the man himself looks clean, though somewhat rumpled: his hair is everywhere, and seems as if it had a hand quickly run through it, and he's half-dressed by way of Victorian standards (black trousers, white shirt partially unbuttoned, black suspenders on). he looks as if he hasn't slept for a day or so, because he hasn't. he has a nice, slim pipe in his mouth, and as the video comes on, he leans away from it, snatching the pipe out from between his teeth.]</sub>

Ahh.. Yes, I think that will do nicely.

_{[he clears his throat and perches on the arm of a chair directly behind him, staring into the camera with a half-smirk on his face.]}

It was, at first, no small feat to discover how this little device I found mysteriously within my possession worked; after much testing, I think I know it entirely, and I've only spent a few hours running tests. A curious little item, but not without its fascinations. Three modes of communication are available to me in ways I have never more than considered on a particularly outlandish fancy. It should prove most useful in the days to come.

_{[he leans back, crossing his legs, one foot perched on the opposite knee, and crosses his arms, pipe still in hand.]}

And on that particular subject.

I have come to this place a stranger, entirely without rumour to my name; I find this suits me less than I should have originally thought. You see, my profession relies on the word of mouth, and without it, I have come upon a wealth of absolute boredom.

My name is Sherlock Holmes, and I am a consulting detective of some repute in the great city of London. I would be most grateful if any and all who may have a problem of interest were to come to my apartment; I am on the fourth floor of the Larmline building, in the second apartment. My fees are simple enough, if ever I ask for them, and I will work in the strictest confidence of all.

_{[he pauses, not sure what else to say; he has never been this desperate before, so this is new territory for him. his pipe taps slightly on his knee as he thinks, staring at the camera, otherwise unmoving. then, suddenly, it comes to him, and his entire face lights up.]}

Ah-

-and do be so kind as to only bring interesting problems? Trifles can only interest me so far.

<sub>[he sticks his pipe in his mouth, and a faint sucking of air can be heard, but by now it's gone out, and he takes it out again.]

Damn!</sub>