http://mister-stoic.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] mister-stoic.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] thelongnow_logs2010-11-13 03:12 am

The Race: Starting Line

Everyone participating in the race found themselves waking up in a car with their teammate. On the dashboard was a map of England and a sealed envelope. Over the radio came the familiar voice of one Oliver St. Oldcastle.

"Ladies and gentlemen, start your engines." And he sounds oh so smug. "I promised you all a chance to win a prize and this is it! For the next two days, you'll be racing from here to the finish line. I can hear you all asking, 'Oliver! Where is the finish line?'"

He clicked his tongue.

"That's my little secret. Guess you'll have to play the game and find out. Step One: open the envelope."

He paused to allow the racers time to do that.

"Yes, it's a riddle. It simply wouldn't be fun if I came right out and told you, would it? That's the first leg of your journey there. Solve it and you'll be on your way. First one to the finish line gets a prize! Everybody else will be directly responsible for the death of someone you love."

There was another pause, to let that sink in for a moment.

"It wouldn't be the same if the stakes weren't high, would it? And don't say, 'Oh Oliver, you can't do that!' because I can and I will. Oh, and I almost forgot Rule Number One: have fun out there."

The radio clicked off in each car.



[ooc: Feel free to tag here with reactions or whatever. Oliver may or may not respond to questions. The car doors are locked with magic, so no one will be leaving their cars til they're out on the road. For your clarification, here's a map of the route that the race will take, each time the line changes direction being a checkpoint:



This is not the map the characters are receiving. Theirs has no red line on it, it's only a generic road map of England. This map is only so you can see roughly where the characters will be headed.

The riddle in the envelope is this:

Rising out of the unknown
Gallows or temple, no way to be sure
The seeds of fame sown
In the mists of a moor.


The post for the first checkpoint will be up in a couple days, but there may be others between now and then so keep an eye out!]

[identity profile] handyhandyhand.livejournal.com 2010-11-16 01:26 am (UTC)(link)
John had to laugh at that, ohh it had been so awkward and serious then back to funnel cake. Only Sherlock could make something so normal so mad in several seconds. Grinning, he rubbed at his eyes and tried his best to locate somewhere they could go off to trek for funnel cake.

"If it is then at least inform me, yeah? I'd prefer not to make an utter prat out of myself and lose my fondest mate this swiftly," John remarked playfully as they sped along to stonehedge.

"Well, tell you what, first I find you this blasted funnel cake then me and you can... talk? I think the right course of action in these situation is to talk. Though, not about anything, I presume! I doubt my knowledge of rare bugs in the 52nd century would be that helpful."

[identity profile] i-never-guess.livejournal.com 2010-11-16 01:40 am (UTC)(link)
"That's what normal people would do, yes." Sherlock said, shrugging his shoulders at the idea that it all could be so simple as just talking. He had never considered it before and now that John mentioned it, it was sort of alarming to him that it could be that easy.

But, for now... Winning the race was what really mattered. Winning the race and funnel cake, of course. Those were the most prominent things on his mind at the moment and that was what he intended on focusing on.

Because, somewhere, at the end of the finish line, he could imagine Watson all bound to a chair with a pipe bomb sitting on his lap and that sort of absolutely terrified him. Moreso than talking about feelings with John or anyone else.