Casual pre-project dialogue
(per this and this):
DD: Mr. Holmes. Dr. Watson. You’re very welcome to our off-hours bar. I’m looking forward to our upcoming work together, and hoping it’ll be rewarding for all of us.
SH: Thank you, madam. We have high hopes as well.
JHW: Thanks!
DD: A couple of words before we begin. First of all: Mr. Holmes, I have to apologize for the present state of your clothes. I bought quite a nice late-Victorian-early-Edwardian-ish era rig for you the other day, but unfortunately men’s tailoring on this platform isn’t quite what could be wished, and the damn thing keeps crashing the renders.
SH: Madam, I beg you not to be concerned. Doubtless it will come right soon enough.
DD: From your mouth to Thoth’s ear. ...I also purchased quite a nice dressing gown for you, but its settings are insanely complex and I have to admit I haven’t yet figured out how to work it.
SH: I daresay if you have too much trouble regarding that, Dr Watson might be able to advise you.
JHW (eyeroll): ...Sherlock!
DD: (closely matching eyeroll/sigh) Doctor, I feel your pain. For God’s sake don’t let him get into innuendo mode with @petermorwood, or we’re all going to be knee-deep in sausage jokes in a matter of minutes. ...Anyway, we’ve got a twin to your full armor rig stowed out back, with a surgical extension pack and the regulation combat armament kit as well. If you’ve got any maintenance issues, we’re equipped to assist you. Ask somebody behind the bar to find Sker’ret for you. Or Carmela. They’ll get you sorted out.
JHW: Ta! Much appreciated.
DD: ...Meanwhile, why don’t you two step around to the bar and meet some of the locals. And don’t let them try anything cute with you about the bar tab: it won’t be your round for a good while.
JHW: (grins) Noted.
DD: Good. ...And Mr. Holmes? A word of advice. Deduction in this neck of the woods can be a tricky business. In particular, the curly-haired gent at the bar...? He’s an adept. He reads souls. Don’t give him an excuse to read yours.
SH: ...Indeed! ...Well then. Perhaps (glances sideways) his long-time lover—no, husband there—
DD: (rolls eyes and waves a hand, done with this already) Oh yeah, by all means, let’s have a hundred-foot-high lion-demigod pull the roof off the place in a fit of pique right at the start of happy hour. Again. (looks at Dr. Watson) Restrain him, Doctor? If at all possible.
JHW: It’s a never-ending challenge.
DD: (more sighing) I hear you there. Just stand the King a white wine and concentrate on taming him with kindness. ...Oh, and one other thing. The teenagers you’ll see wandering around here from time to time?
SH: “Teenagers?”
DD: Oh. Sorry, period idiom. “Young people.” Don’t tease them. The results are likely to be uneven...
(after a few more pleasantries exchanged, exeunt the world’s first consulting detective and his Army doctor in the direction of the bar)
DD (rummages around in the [OOS] shopping bag and hands the remaining visitor a steak): ...Nice kitty.
