[ When in Rome, as the saying went. Sherlock has never been particularly accustomed to staying still for any length of time anyway, or, at least, it's never boded well, so he takes the opportunity to try and glean a little more about what, exactly, is happening. His skepticism is still on alert, but at some point even the stupidest man must realize that logically this is all very true, and very real.
Or someone's gone a very, very long way when it comes to making a good hoax.
Regardless of it all, Sherlock can only mutter out a vague thank you when the little goodie bags are shoved into his hands. He is careful to stop at every exhibit, to watch and look and take in. Naturally his inclination is to go the way of the plants. There's a new mental lexicon here to begin with, best not to dally, and his eyes cast along the paintings as he moves along. Until one alarmingly familiar face brings him pause. He frowns, looking around now, as if he's decided this truly must be some game. ]
I'M LOOKING FOR: Why must I be looking for something?
ALSO, I'M: This section seems irrelevant.
[iii. STASIS]
[ Now this is interesting. So many faces, so many people blissfully ignorant. In a way, it's enviable. Though Sherlock has always loved a good challenge, so being awake and being here, it's not as if it should be hard to figure out.
When he comes into the Stasis room, at first, it's to admire the technology of it all. He runs his hand along the pods, looks to see how they're rigged. He notices a lack of obvious organization and wonders how they know whose time it is. Something in the programming, no doubt, and he'd figure it out if he could just take one of these things apart and toy with it.
Maybe he'll inquire about it later.
He hardly seems to realize, though, as he moves along, that like so many others he's just looking for something. Someone. A familiar face, of the few faces he cared to know. It's likely he won't even notice he's been searching until he stumbles across one, if he ever does. ]
[iv. WILDCARD]
Choose your own adventure. Feel free to start something not here, or hit me up at fritzwinky and we can discuss.
Sherlock Holmes | BBC's Sherlock
[ When in Rome, as the saying went. Sherlock has never been particularly accustomed to staying still for any length of time anyway, or, at least, it's never boded well, so he takes the opportunity to try and glean a little more about what, exactly, is happening. His skepticism is still on alert, but at some point even the stupidest man must realize that logically this is all very true, and very real.
Or someone's gone a very, very long way when it comes to making a good hoax.
Regardless of it all, Sherlock can only mutter out a vague thank you when the little goodie bags are shoved into his hands. He is careful to stop at every exhibit, to watch and look and take in. Naturally his inclination is to go the way of the plants. There's a new mental lexicon here to begin with, best not to dally, and his eyes cast along the paintings as he moves along. Until one alarmingly familiar face brings him pause. He frowns, looking around now, as if he's decided this truly must be some game. ]
[ii. SOCIAL LINKED]
@holmes (33), London
I'M SKILLED IN: Everything useful.
I'M LOOKING FOR: Why must I be looking for something?
ALSO, I'M: This section seems irrelevant.
[iii. STASIS]
[ Now this is interesting. So many faces, so many people blissfully ignorant. In a way, it's enviable. Though Sherlock has always loved a good challenge, so being awake and being here, it's not as if it should be hard to figure out.
When he comes into the Stasis room, at first, it's to admire the technology of it all. He runs his hand along the pods, looks to see how they're rigged. He notices a lack of obvious organization and wonders how they know whose time it is. Something in the programming, no doubt, and he'd figure it out if he could just take one of these things apart and toy with it.
Maybe he'll inquire about it later.
He hardly seems to realize, though, as he moves along, that like so many others he's just looking for something. Someone. A familiar face, of the few faces he cared to know. It's likely he won't even notice he's been searching until he stumbles across one, if he ever does. ]
[iv. WILDCARD]
Choose your own adventure. Feel free to start something not here, or hit me up at