[The feed clicks on to show a very well-dressed man eyeing the device with a hint of mistrust - almost as if he has perfectly well worked out how to use it, but would still rather not. It's an expression that's only there for a moment before it smooths out, replaced instead by a polite, friendly smile as he begins speaking.]

I'll spare everyone the repeated demands of how it is we're here and why no one has succeeded in changing the situation. I think I've been here quite long enough to skip over that apparently necessary initial introduction, and I'm certain the more long-standing residents of this vessel are tired of enlightening that particular strain of ignorance. And while I will throw my voice in with the chorus of those that would prefer not to be here, my question - and offer - is more what can be done to help.

[His gaze travels away from the camera, but it isn't with an air of uncertainty. More the look of a man who isn't used to being pinned in one place - or having to hold a camera - as he talks.]

I've taken the time to read over the information offered, but found the matter of how some of it was acquired notably... absent. [A tilt of his head, a more wry smile on his mouth.] I've an interest in the details. The devil's often in them, as they say. And perhaps a fresh set of eyes might discover some previously unnoticed potential, given the opportunity.

Of course, if anyone else would like to take this chance to fill in any gaps in our so-called F.A.Q. [A loose gesture of his hand.] My ears are open.

[ the feed winks on with no trouble, and there’s an elegantly disheveled man on the other side. it takes skill to look this good, okay. ]

Right. I see you - and that’s a general "you" rather than a specific one - have taken the liberty of marking me without my consent. While I don’t necessarily disapprove, it would be greatly appreciated if you would ask me prior to the event next time, as this isn’t necessarily the location that I would choose. Perhaps something more discreet, I think, for something so boring.

[ can you see the other tattoo peeking out from underneath his sleeve? maybe. he’s got a few. Sherlock sits back in his chair. ]

I assume these numbers mean something [ and there’s a wave of his arm ] if they’re so important as to be tattooed on. I can’t say that my- [ the tiniest pause ] associate will be too pleased with it, but experience tells me that these things are quite meant to last. I can’t see that she has any say it in now, in any case.

[ he’d spin around, if the chair would let him. good lord, don’t you people even have spinny chairs? ]

The way I understand it, we are all currently on a spaceship hurtling into the great beyond, yes? As I’ve not seen any proper crew members, I’d like to know who is piloting. What are their credentials, where did they train, the like. I assume that interplanetary kidnapping is a rather large part of their agenda, so I won’t be so obvious as to ask when I can return to my "cozy" little brownstone. All I ask is that, when I am finally returned, you see to it I’m accompanied by a, a doctor’s note, of sorts, describing the circumstances and why I am not to be held accountable for my mysterious disappearance. You can address said note to Joan Watson, and Captain Gregson of the New York City Police Department. They can pass it along to any other possibly relevant parties, whomever they may be.

Oh. [ there’s a pause where he remembers something, and it’s muttered to himself: ] I hope Watson remembers to tend to my bees. They’re rather high-maintenance around this time of year; it’ll be the least she can do, before she takes her leave.

[ and it ends there. ]


[ooc; like I said, the post is backdated!]