In the woods

[bitofafiction]

It was a matter of some internal debate what Sherlock would do after finding his rooms. Options included: read the rulebook; explore the grounds; pick the locks on a dormitory door just to see if he could.

As tempting as he found the last option, he has put it aside for now, and can be found in the north end of the woods with his rulebook tucked under his arm. Occasionally, when he finds a nice spot to sit and read for a while, he does just that.

Comments

[thatguywhohasablog]

"Thanks, bro."

A minute later he hands them back. The note reads, in a sort of pointy triangular scrawl:

okay so in my monumental playerly magnanimosity i hereby grant this sherlock holmes dude the express official written permission to do basically whatever the fuck he likes without getting shit for it because thats more stupid than i can even work up the enthusiasm to get seriously pissed off about.

here is my official signature:

dave motherfucking strider

(note how ive included my middle name here like you shovelhanded chimpanzees have so far failed to. keep the fuck up guys.)

[bitofafiction]

He chuckles.

"Excellent. Is that in fact your middle name, or was it purely for effect?"

[thatguywhohasablog]

"It's the middle name I'm filing to get included in their official documents," Dave replies with a shrug.

[bitofafiction]

Serenely: "I wish you the best of luck in that endeavour."