Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-5726563-20131012204124/@comment-25151516-20131023003328

Holmes was too cross with himself to pay mind to Ed's eyeball roll. His body and pride had been shot.

This is why guns make for too much stupid in a room.

"Thank you Ed, you make a good field medic. Now..." James forced himself to stand, his silvery Aura glowing and burning at the wound.

"Let's make this quick. My body and brain will start to shut down in about an hour. It was only gunshot wound, but a distracting one." He started for the paralyzed man, "Aconite."

"Fifty-seven times I've ever been shot. Regenerated for half of them, Mister 'Aconite'. I counted -- And there goes my nice coat; blood and a hole -- Won't be able to fix it until I'm done recovering."

James was well rushed in his words. He knew that he could not go long without resting after a regeneration, even a small one. Holmes stood over the limp-bodied suspect, plucked the dart from him, looked at it for a second, secured it in a pocket, took out his phone and started working.

Still on his phone, he texted the Chief Inspector, waiting the hood of the car at ground level and surrounded by SWAT teams and squad cars. ''Regenerated. With suspect. Expect results within half an hour.'' As he texted, he asked whoever listened, quickly: "Could someone hand me my Lockpick; silver, leather, blue dome at the end? Careful, I don't want to ruin Mister Edwin's lovely masterpiece..."