Tangentially related to game-app choice

[notquiteheartless]

I think you're taking "side of the angels" a bit literally.

Comments

[bbinatrenchcoat]

What do you mean?

[notquiteheartless]

She's going to give me wings. Little, supposedly brown wings.

haha poor sherlock

[bbinatrenchcoat]

It's for a game?

Poor, poor dear. It will be so fun.

[notquiteheartless]

Yes. Some "community" she's rather attached to.

BEING MEAN TO THE MUSE IS ALWAYS THE BEST

[bbinatrenchcoat]

[ blink ]

And they have angels there?

[womanwhobeatyou]

And how literally is that, Mr. Holmes?

[notquiteheartless]

Wings.

[Because she at least will understand the absurdity of this. Not that he's letting his bafflement show much.]

Actual, attached, functioning wings. Well, functioning so much as reactionary movement goes. Incapable of flight, I understand.

[womanwhobeatyou]

[She's taken aback for a moment by the idea, but attaching the idea to Sherlock Holmes just makes her laugh.]

Will you be satisfied with that answer or will you insist on testing out their flight capability on your own, I wonder?

[notquiteheartless]

I will take nothing as fact until it's proven as fact.

And if they do prove to be useless "limbs," then I shall simply have a doctor amputate.

[sooochangeable]

[Excuse him, he's nearly doubled over with laughter. Because it's an absolutely priceless joke.]

[notquiteheartless]

[Let him just check something in that harddrive that is his mind...

Right.

Yep.

Still hate you.]

[sooochangeable]

Oh come on baby, don't be like that.

[Pout.]

[notquiteheartless]

[Nope. Not talking to you. Maybe if we ignore you, you'll go away.]

[consultsdetective]

[ This face should surely say it all.

He.

Wants to give you a bag of birdseed. ]

[notquiteheartless]

[...Try it.

Just remember all the creative uses we could find for birdseed.]

[consultsdetective]

[ Sacrifices that must be made. Nobody could have predicted the chances of Sherlock throwing the deerstalker at John like a death frisbee.

Maybe he'll save it for later. ]

Going in for the feathers, then.

[notquiteheartless]

Getting dragged into it.

[hundredpercent]

That the, ah... wings game, is it?

[notquiteheartless]

It is.

[The look should say it all, really.]

[hundredpercent]

[Oh, it does. He knows all about The Look.]

Well, it could always be worse. Keep telling yourself that.

[notquiteheartless]

She is attaching small wings which do not, I believe, grant flight and serve no purpose but to get in the way and serve as a "tell."

And now she is threatening to make them plaid.

[not_yourhousekeeper]

Now now, Sherlock... I don't see what the fuss is about.

It's a bit strange, of course, but they're quite charming.

[notquiteheartless]

They're dangerous.

[not_yourhousekeeper]

Dangerous?

[her expression is doubtful...but this is Sherlock. She frowns slightly]

But it seems like such a little thing...

[notquiteheartless]

Until I see proof that there is even a modicum of control over them-- John doesn't count-- I stand by the word.