So I've heard from a couple of people that I was here before. Don't know how much I'm actually supposed to know about that, obviously I don't remember anything, but I'm guessing the best way to meet new people around here is just to rebuild the relationships I already had.

I guess this is an open invitation to say hello if you knew me well when I was here before. I understand it's probably a bit annoying that you'll have to deal with me getting to know you all over again, but there's not much I can do about it.

Any takers?

Why does stuff like this keep happening to me.

We ain't married, bitch. We ain't even talkin' right now, not after that Pokemon shit.

[ there's a man in a wheelchair looking most disgruntled ]

It's a creative kidnapping, I'll give it that. But quite frankly, it's just irksome. So I'd really appreciate it if someone could get me a ride back to New York.

Oh for the love of- Shit. All right. I still haven't figured out all the ways this thing works. I mean, a phone is one thing, but this is a bit more complicated than it needs to be.

[There's a heavy pause, and a sigh. When he speaks again, his voice is slightly strained.]

Is there a way to figure out who all's here on this island? I probably should have just asked at the hospital, I just... wanted to see if there was anyone I might know.

Sorry, my services won't be available for a while. Maybe ever again. Why?

Honestly, I just can't be arsed. There's a perfectly good hospital, or whatever suffices for one around here. They'll take care of you.

I'm not entirely sure why everyone's acting so strangely lately, but I suppose that's really none of my business :( How about a game of Cluedo, though? That'll cheer everyone right up, don't you think? :)

WHAT: dreams, not all of them fun
WHO: ukraine, sherlock holmes, and YOU
WHEN: whenever everyone is wandering around interrupting dreams like rude people
NOTE: ukraine only has the one dream, but any of sherlock's are up for grabs, and feel free to come up with an entirely different scenario for him at your leisure!

( UKRAINE )


( SHERLOCK )

I know that this is probably the absolute perfect time to be saying this... but for the next few days, possibly even longer depending on circumstances, Baker Street Surgery will be closed unless there's another doctor or healer who would like to take patients.

[ There's the sound of John straining a little. ]

I'm afraid that due to a.. rather debilitating injury in my shoulder.. I won't be able to perform any emergency medical procedures. If you need a signature for a prescription or advice on first aid, I'll be happy to provide, but I'm afraid my own medication will be keeping me home for the time being.

Please, everyone, be safe.

( Text to Sherlock Holmes )

Please.

[ the girl speaks so quietly, she almost isn't heard. but she's finally managed to figure out how to communicate with others like everyone else seems to be doing. she glances up at the camera and then back down at the doll in her arms, clutching it. ]

I don't know where I am. I need to be home. Father will be angry and .. I need to go home. I'm not supposed to stay out late, with strangers.

So there I was...

With nothing but a bag of flour, some sweet new shoes, and a highly over-inflated ego walking down the streets of Whoville after a particularly enlightening meeting with the town mayor that ended me possessing the deeds of half the town and a black eye from a little girl named Cindy.... For clarification, the black eye was for the mayor. I didn't get a black eye from a little girl. She could hardly reach my face. She's like what? 3'3? I've got three feet and an inch on that thing.

Anyway. So THERE I WAS when all of the sudden a group of leather clad thuggish hooligans of Boston variety -- which is weird because Whoville is in Switzerland -- come strolling on up to me like a pack of hungry wolves, if wolves carried bats with nails driven into them and were significantly less hairy. They wanted to beat me to a bloody pulp and raid my over-sized wallet of all it's contents, which is a thing that happens when you're so gosh darn rich that you just ooze it straight from your pours while being good-looking enough for all of their girlfriends to try and become Missus Stupidly Rich-ler. They start pounding their experienced pounding fists into their hands ready to press them into my freckled complexion until it bleeds all over the pavement.

At this moment, I'm a little scared because they happened to show up at the one point in my entire visit to that town where I wasn't with my security entourage. My entourage being my logically-challenged but reliable in a completely not-reliable-at-all way twin brothers, who usually play the part of bodyguards when they're not being utterly useless to anyone but my mother. They're nowhere to be seen, having been distracted by the impressive Christmas lights and the sultry woman in the short skirt putting them up about four blocks down.

One of them grabs me by the green Italian-silk tie and threatens me with a creative version of a vocabulary similar to that young fellow with the blood on his ceiling a couple of posts down, while one of his comrades presses a knife to my throat. But then, out of nowhere, a small polka-dotted big-wheel comes circling the corner and runs over the feet of the hooligans throwing them off balance. The rider then took off their glittery pony helmet and bashed it into the one holding my tie's ugly mug, making it even uglier. I hit the floor and the big-wheel rider proceeds to execute several martial arts moves on the men that then makes them run for the mountains never to be heard from again. Because they probably got eaten by Yetis.

Shocked and in awe, I get a good look at my rescuer and realize this is that three foot something Lou-Who kid I saw punch a mayor in the face earlier. This girl was the most violent and impressive child I have ever seen. I thank her and she responds by taking a small bill from my wallet and saying the compensation made us "even." Cindy takes the entire wallet and leaves me with the bill.

And that's the story of how I met and I hired the small child who once beat the crap out of the Grinch to be head of security for a trillion dollar company and why children should never be talked down to. They should be feared.

[ A young boy's voice comes in, and it sounds concerned. Panicked, even. ]

Hi, so, I'm looking for a small boy with dark hair and blue-green eyes. Answers to "Sherlock". Has anyone seen him? Please...?

I'm going to be in so much trouble if he gets too lost...

Who: Sherlock Holmes and John Watson
What: Taking Sherlock out for his birthday
When: Evening, Jan. 6th
Where: Any and every bar, but mostly at the Nancing Phony
Warnings: Possible language and boykissing. ew. Anything beyond that will be taken elsewhere.

( It was Sherlock's birthday... )

[ He tried to make this a text announcement but he found focusing on the little letters on this phone was proving to be far to difficult and he was far too tired. Audio then. ]

[ Sorry about the coughing. ]

I'm not going to school today. So someone should call me in.

[ And before it cuts off there's a very quiet- ]

おやすみ [ (Good Night) ]

Considering I was just accosted as I left my flat, I'm assuming there is another strange event going on. One that you all have experienced before.
Is the best thing to do to stay inside? Unfortunately, I'm out of reading material and it's rather tedious hiding in doors all the time.

[ private to sherlock holmes & john watson. ]

Would either of you like to explain this to me in rational terms?