OOM: Moist and Urquhart => Watson and Buliwyf

[scots_wolf]

He wakes, bewildered.

Instead of a bare hall under siege, he's in the most decadently luxurious room he's ever seen. The Arab probably lives like that, but Buliwyf feels as if he'd landed in some bizarre traveller's tale.

At least the dog's familiar snore is there, by his feet.

He lifts his head, feeling feverish, and unbecomingly hung-over.

What??

He is naked, in a decadently luxurious bed, and beside him, there is a naked man, and a total stranger, at that.

What???

Comments

[morethanprops]

He wakes up and feels a body next to him, which startles him awake and out of bed, clutching the bedpost and searching for his stick.

His clothes are missing and there's another man here, the dog that barks at him at least looks like Gladstone,

"Who are you?!"

[scots_wolf]

He looks for his sword, but it's not there; nor is his armour, or his helmet.

"I'd ask that of you!" he says. "What have you done to my weapons, why do you live in such a decadent room that looks like a Byzantine whore's dream home, and -- what in the name of Hel have you done to Garm?"

The dog snoring so familiarly at the foot of the bed definitely looks nothing like the big shaggy red wolf-hound he was expecting.

"What nasty witch-plant did you put in my mead?"

[morethanprops]

"This isn't my room. Is Holmes behind this?"

He can see a suit on the floor and gets dressed as quickly as he can while keeping an eye on the other man.

As a doctor, he's good at getting ready when there's the need,

"That's not Gladstone. Holmes!"

Franz barks at them both, this isn't right.

[scots_wolf]

"Who is Holmes?" he barks, just as the dog barks back.

"Did he do that to us? I want a word with him. Now, if possible!"

He finds some clothes on the floor that definitely aren't his, but fit him as if they were. They're dark, and a bit showy in an entirely black way. Again, something the Arab would wear.

"Or Ibn," he says. "Why would Ibn play such a trick on me?"

[morethanprops]

The suit is rather more flashy than he would normally choose to wear but it does fit and he can't find his stick, so he tries not to limp too much. He won't show weakness in front of his man,

"Holmes, everyone knows Holmes. Where is Mrs. Hudson?"

Getting out of this room will make things make more sense and he can feel that he has a fever, that's rather worrying. Holmes must have been brewing something up that didn't work.

[scots_wolf]

"What's a Misses Hudson?" he demands. "And I don't know a Holmes. You can take my word for it. People usually do."

In fact, it's very offensive that the other man infers he might be lying!

He feels feverish and ill, as well, and his head appears to be near splitting.

"This Holmes must have put something really nasty in my mead!"

[morethanprops]

"It would be just like him,"

Watson is ignoring the other man and heading towards the door, he will find Holmes and find out what he's done.

[scots_wolf]

"Then tell him not to come close to me again, or it'll be the end of him," Bulliwyf says.

He picks up the black cloak that came with the clothes. It's suspiciously weighted. Coins in the hem?

Well, well, well.

[morethanprops]

There are extra things in his jacket and Watson frowns, this isn't right at all, but the door is open,

"I can take care of him without your assistance,"

No one else gets to yell at Holmes but him and Mrs. Hudson.

[scots_wolf]

"He sent me to bed with another man," Buliwyf says. "I'd call that my business. Not my assistance."

[morethanprops]

"I will deal with him,"

He opens the door and shuts it in the other man's face, he doesn't even know where he is.

[scots_wolf]

Franz the dog howls, unhappily, because both his humans have gone crazy and ignore him.

Buliwyf turns to comfort the animal. Oddly enough, it seems to accept him as its master.

"Let's go and find out what's behind all this," he says, patting the dog, who is very relieved and wags his entire backside.

Then, Buliwyf strides out of the decadent whore's room, the dog following, and makes his way through the maze of corridors, to find some answers.

This is all very, very strange.

And he never had this bad a headache all his life.