this is the app that never ends

[punchmyface]

In Character Information

character name: Sherlock Holmes
Fandom: BBC's Sherlock
Timeline: After the series 2 finale, The Reichenbach Fall
character's age: Never stated directly in canon. Inquiry with series co-creator Mark Gatiss produced the answer of "12," which gives the correct impression that this show is run by a bunch of trolls. Deduction leads me to guesstimate about 34 at his current canon point, due to commentary by a former university classmate in series 1 that they hadn't seen each other in at least eight years and the actor himself is 35. Sherlock also mentions he was "just a kid myself" in 1989, although old enough to be paying attention to crimes in the newspapers. Add the fact that his brother Mycroft is seven years his elder in the original Arthur Conan Doyle stories and really given his appearance and high status within the British government, he can't be any younger than 40. SO YEAH, 34 until proven guilty.

If you thought the above passage was drawn out and tedious, strap in, because that's very similar to the monologues of deduction Sherlock tends to give. A lot.

Also, I apologise in advance that this app contains so many references to the original Arthur Conan Doyle stories, but BBC's Sherlock has such an immense foundation built upon them that it seemed ignorant of me not to reference the originals. I don't intend to "mix canons," so to speak, but merely to use the original source material to help enlighten the finer points of character and plot, which I believe the show's writers wanted to do themselves. I do my best to differentiate between Arthur Conan Doyle's (abbreviated from here on out as ACD) version and the show's. To help with this, I've tried to refer to ACD's version of the characters as Holmes and Watson, and Sherlock's as Sherlock and John.

powers, skills, pets and equipment:

powers: Nothing supernatural.

skills: This is where he shines. Grab a chair and some caffeine, we're going to be here awhile.

"Deduction:" His signature move, so to speak. In quotations because his method is actually considered abductive reasoning, which is, starting from minute details and moving from those to general truths, and deductive reasoning is the opposite. Still, it was an error in the original Conan Doyle stories and the writers decided to stay true to it here. Semantics matter little to Sherlock.

So it goes like this: he notices every single concrete detail able to be experienced with the five senses. From that he can reason a staggering number of things, solve baffling cases, read people and their motives and movements and crimes and on and on and on. It's meant to be amazing and insane and infuriating and oh, is it ever. It helps that he has a flair for the dramatic and likes to show off.

However, his deduction is singularly useless for anything that reaches into the supernatural realm, although that almost never comes up for Sherlock in canon. (See canon history for details on when it does.) More commonly, however, it doesn't do much to help him understand the emotions of others. This gets him into trouble a lot.


Knowledge base:

As a "proper genius," as described in A Study in Pink, Sherlock exhibits a frightening amount of knowledge in some areas, but is "spectacularly ignorant" in others. In fact, in the original ACD novel, A Study in Scarlet, Dr. Watson draws up a list of what he's observed as Holmes's intellectual strengths and weaknesses. I've recreated the list here, with examples from the show of how the writers have seemed to stick to this original analysis.

1. Knowledge of Literature – nil.

Sherlock seems touch and go with having been exposed to not just literary media, but most aspects of pop culture. During an exchange on John's blog, John is appalled that Sherlock has never seen James Bond and even goes so far as to force Sherlock to sit down to a "Bond night," much to Sherlock's chagrin.

John does manage to introduce Sherlock to more elements of pop culture as the series progresses, although apparently that just leads him to correct the television. A lot.

2. Knowledge of Philosophy – nil.

Sherlock is always concerned with tangible, concrete details and never the philosophical side of his cases or life at large. In fact, he is often downright confounded by the moral implications of his actions, which can make him seem cold and unfeeling. This has lead to arguments with John over whether Sherlock even cares about the lives that hang in the balance in the cases he solves. In the series 1 finale, The Great Game, they have the following exchange:

John: "There are lives at stake, Sherlock, actual human lives. Just so I know, do you care about that at all?"
Sherlock: "Will caring about them help save them?"
John: "Nope."
Sherlock: "Then I'll continue not to make that mistake."
John: "And you find that easy, do you?"
Sherlock: "Yes, very. ... Don't make people into heroes, John. Heroes don't exist, and if they did, I wouldn't be one of them."

It's interesting to note that Sherlock becomes entirely more self-aware of his own morality over the course of series 2, but I'll go into that more in depth in the history section.

3. Knowledge of Astronomy – nil.

In a hilarious running gag in The Great Game, it's revealed that apparently Sherlock didn't realise the earth went around the sun. (In the ACD novel, The Hound of the Baskervilles, the same fact is revealed. Although that was 100+ years ago, considering heliocentricism was first introduced in the 16th century, that's still a pretty ridiculous thing to not know.) He claims it's pointless information, and that if he ever learned it, he deleted it from his brain in favour of more useful stuff. Amusingly enough, this comes back to bite him later in the episode, as a vital piece of information to solving a case requires knowledge of astronomy. He manages to pull it off thanks to Google, but John admonishes him later: "You know, I'm still waiting. For you to admit that a little knowledge of the solar system and you'd have cleared [that] up a lot quicker." Sherlock says, "Didn't do you any good, did it?" John replies, "No, but I'm not the world's only consulting detective."

On this note, it does seem that Sherlock takes a different approach to storing memory after this incident. In the series 2 episode The Hounds of Baskerville, he shoos everyone out of the room so he can go to his mind palace and locate the relevant information. (The same technique, albeit described in different terms, is also mentioned by Holmes in the ACD story The Five Orange Pips, in response to Watson's list about his strengths and weaknesses. So both incarnations actually do take John Watson's advice, awww.)

4. Knowledge of Politics – Feeble.

Sherlock apparently forgets who the prime minister is. Oops.

5. Knowledge of Botany – Variable. Well up in belladonna, opium and poisons generally. Knows nothing of practical gardening.

Poisons he generally has to research but can identify by their chemical composition. He probably still can't garden.

6. Knowledge of Geology – Practical, but limited. Tells at a glance different soils from each other. After walks, has shown me splashes upon his trousers, and told me by their colour and consistence in what part of London he had received them.

True to Watson's original statement, Sherlock knows enough about soil composition to use it to narrow down possible crime scene locales to a particular region in The Reichenbach Fall.

7. Knowledge of Chemistry – Profound.

Also keeping with tradition of the original incarnation, Sherlock is a master chemist. It is the science in which he possesses the most knowledge, and although not directly stated, it was also likely his major at university. He knows his way around a lab and has even recreated one in his kitchen at 221B Baker Street, much to the disdain of anyone who would like to eat in it.

8. Knowledge of Anatomy – Accurate, but unsystematic.

He understands anatomy when inspecting bodies, but lacks the precise medical terms John can use when looking at the same ones. He also likes to conduct experiments on different body parts, which have led other characters to find a human head and thumbs in the fridge, and eyes in the microwave. It pays to have a forensic pathologist in love with you.

9. Knowledge of Sensational Literature – Immense. He appears to know every detail of every horror perpetrated in the century.

"Sensational literature" here is kind of Victorian speak for knowledge of crimes and criminals. In keeping with that, books in Sherlock's collection include the history of Scotland Yard and other crime-related topics. Additionally, he finds the internet to be a great source and has no qualms using it to aid his investigations.

And, perhaps as a bit of a counterpoint to #1, it is interesting to note that Sherlock does have a portrait of Edgar Allan Poe hanging in his room. Show creators have said it's meant to be an homage to the C. Auguste Dupin stories that inspired the original Sherlock Holmes character. It's likely, then, that Sherlock himself is a fan of these stories, given how similar his methods are. (And besides, in a universe where he is a real person, he has to find his own iconic fictional detective to idolise, and he doesn't seem like the sort to like Batman.)

10. Plays the violin well.

His habits with the violin are pretty much exactly as shown in the original stories. He is a skilled player and has a knowledge of classical pieces as well as more contemporary ditties, such as God Save the Queen and We Wish You a Merry Christmas. In A Scandal in Belgravia, he is shown composing because it helps him think and the tune is quite lovely, as commented upon by Mrs. Hudson. He also tends to pick at it idly when deep in thought and plays it angrily at Mycroft when his brother is being annoying.

11. Is an expert singlestick player, boxer and swordsman.

Singlestick is essentially an archaic form of fencing. Considering he has a sword in his room, it's feasible he's a good fencer, given the modern setting. On his website he mentions he's dabbled in boxing, and does don a boxing stance while going up again an opponent in The Great Game. Not mentioned here, but in a later ACD story, Holmes says he is skilled in a martial art called "baritsu" (likely a misspelling of bartitsu). And indeed, in The Blind Banker Sherlock defeats an opponent with some impressive martial arts moves. However, this has been modernised as well, as a black belt certificate for Judo can be seen hanging in his bedroom. Additionally, he owns a gun and is apparently a good shot, since during his more bored spells he's taken to shooting the living room wall in the shape of a smilie face. (...Although how he ever got a license to carry is beyond me.)

12. Has a good practical knowledge of British law.

Pretty much the same, as illustrated when Sherlock is called to testify against Moriarty in The Reichenbach Fall. John foresees disaster and is not disappointed, because Sherlock criticises the lawyers' methods and annoys the judge enough to get him held in contempt for a few hours.

That covers just about all of his skills! ... Well, except for one thing...


Disguises: Okay, I don't actually think he's very good at these, but it's such an iconic part of the original character I need to mention its incarnation here. ...Honestly, it's mostly the art of bullshitting and misdirection. He can throw together a story and a convincing enough act to confuse people into telling him what he needs to know or doing what he wants. He's actually pretty bad at physically disguising himself, which gets called out by Irene Adler in A Scandal in Belgravia. He thought he could put on a priest's collar and waltz into her house and she wouldn't notice something was amiss. Meanwhile, his photo's been in the newspapers, John's blog has gained popularity, and Moriarty personally sent her photos of him. Granted, he didn't know she was in league with Moriarty, but the first two factors probably should have made him think things through more.

...He needs to work to improve this area. That's all I'm saying.


pets: Good God, no. Unless you count John.

equipment: I would LOVE to fill this section out with a bajillion cool doodads he has in canon but ALAS once you fake your own death you kind of lose access to all your stuff. WHOOPS. Maybe some things can float into Berend's in the future.

He will be arriving with his iconic coat and navy blue scarf, however, as that's what he was last wearing in canon.


canon history:

Early Life

In keeping with the tradition of the ACD stories, not all that much is stated about Sherlock's life before the start of the series. There are, however, lots of fun hints and inferences from which we can put together a somewhat clear picture. I'll talk about those here.

First of all, family. A mother is mentioned, but never seen, and in fact spoken of only in the past tense. "You know how it always upset Mummy," his brother Mycroft admonishes him in A Study in Pink, to which Sherlock snaps, "I never upset her." This implies all sorts of lovely complex familial situations. The brief argument over which one of them upset her implies a rocky relationship. And by the timeline of the series, their mother is most likely deceased, since at Christmas time they begrudgingly see each other but don't even mention her. (Previously, Mycroft also said to John, "You can imagine the Christmas dinners," so it's likely if she was still alive, at least one of them would have made an effort to see her.)

Also, speaking of Mycroft, given his role in Sherlock's life – which is, something of a long-suffering caretaker – it's evident he's assumed a kind of parental responsibility over Sherlock likely since childhood. Traditionally Mycroft was seven years Sherlock's elder, and although whether this exact number has been duplicated isn't known, it's clear Mycroft is a) quite a bit older (ten years between the ages of the actors, in fact) and b) for some reason he has felt the need to take over that parental role. Add in no mention of any father and it's likely Mr. Holmes senior either died or left the family quite early in Sherlock's life.

So, probably, Sherlock's childhood went something like this: a difficult relationship with a possibly single mother, who was ill-equipped to deal with a child of Sherlock's intellect and social impairment. (I'll go more into detail about his likely Asperger's in the personality section.) The older and more adjusted Mycroft tried to fill in the parental gap, which made Sherlock resentful, somewhat justifiably because Mycroft does have a way of being condescending. The resentment only got worse as Sherlock got older, because clearly Mycroft never backed off and decided Sherlock could take care of himself. (Although, in Mycroft's defense, Sherlock often illustrates that he can't.)

It is mentioned that Sherlock attended university, although again in keeping with the ACD stories, it isn't mentioned where. Probably somewhere prestigious, given his staggering intelligence. As previously stated, it's likely he was a chemistry major, given his knowledge of the field and how he knows his way around a lab.

After university, however, there's a rather large gap of information. In the first episode, Lestrade mentions Sherlock has been a consultant to Scotland Yard for five years. If my guesstimation that he's 32 at that point is correct, that would mean he met Lestrade at 27. That leaves a good four or five years (depending on whether he would have finished university in three years or four – both are possible given the British education system) unaccounted for. Mostly likely this period of time was spent developing his deductive methods, learning the aforementioned self-defense techniques, furthering his knowledge in chemistry and other related fields (and some non-related ones, as he is shown as a rather good violin player and composer) and becoming addicted to drugs. (More on the addiction bit in the personality section.) His interest in solving crimes extends back to childhood, so I think it's safe to say at some point around his mid-twenties he began solving crimes in the London area, which eventually led him into the path of Lestrade and Scotland Yard, and he was impressive enough for Lestrade to begin consulting on a regular basis.

At some point after this, he meets Mrs. Hudson, his future landlady, on a case, ensuring her husband will get the death penalty in Florida. (Something which, interestingly, Mrs. Hudson seemed to take a shine to Sherlock for. Must have been a really nasty bloke, that Mr. Hudson!) Just before the start of A Study in Pink, he has a disagreement with his landlord at Montague Street and has to move out, as stated on his website. (And, yes, it is in fact a real website.) Mrs. Hudson agrees to give him lodging at 221B Baker Street. All he needs is a flatmate to help pay for the rent.

But, even in his own opinion, he's a difficult person to share a flat with. Who on earth would be willing to live with Sherlock Holmes?

And thus the classic tale begins anew.

Series 1

A Study in Pink

The overall plot for this episode is actually rather simple. It revolves around a case being handled by Scotland Yard. Four people have died under mysterious circumstances: quite mysterious indeed, as they have all killed themselves by ingesting an identical poison. Coined "serial suicides," the Yard is stumped, and so they turn to Sherlock Holmes. In forty-eight hours, he tracks down the killer, confronts him, and solves the case.

But the case itself is really just backdrop for the introduction of Sherlock, his supporting cast of characters, and establishing his relationship to them. A great deal is learned even just through brief interactions. As mentioned above, his brother Mycroft is revealed to be a condescending but genuinely concerned third party. Detective Inspector Lestrade comes to Sherlock for help with the case but expresses frustration with Sherlock's methods and erratic behaviour. Still, Sherlock knows Lestrade needs him, and Lestrade is willing to deal with Sherlock to get results, and shows both patience and cleverness in doing so. Lestrade successfully reins Sherlock in for withholding evidence by setting up a drug bust in his flat, telling Sherlock that if he starts cooperating properly with the investigation, he'll call off the drug squad. When Sherlock protests, "This is childish," Lestrade replies, "Well, I'm dealing with a child." And indeed, the relationship between Lestrade and Sherlock is very akin to that of a father and son, and Lestrade often goes out on a limb to accommodate Sherlock, and even respects him. He has high hopes for this pseudo-child of his, going so far as to say, "Sherlock Holmes is a great man. And one day, if we're very very lucky, he might even be a good one."

The redeeming qualities Lestrade sees in Sherlock are lost on the others at Scotland Yard. Lestrade's direct subordinate, Sergeant Sally Donovan, calls him a freak to his face. He and the forensics expert, Anderson, are openly hostile to each other, and Sherlock is brutal in attacking his character: "Don't talk out loud, you lower the IQ of the whole street," he snaps at one point.

Obviously no love is lost between Sherlock and many people, which just makes it all the more interesting to meet the ones who, like Lestrade, see the potential for goodness in him. 221B's landlady, Mrs. Hudson, is another one of these people. She too seems to view him as a son, embracing him warmly when he appears to show the place to his potential flatmate. Sherlock also shows a tendency to order her around like a servant, requesting tea and food, and although she retorts, "I'm not your housekeeper!" she always does it anyway. Additionally, Sherlock is shown to have connections to a pathologist working in the morgue of St. Bartholomew's Hospital. Named Molly Hooper, she keeps Sherlock in a steady supply of corpses to experiment on and gives him access to the labs. In exchange he treats her absolutely abhorrently, ordering her around, criticizing her her appearance and generally missing the very obvious fact that she is completely in love with him.

These are the people who are established to already exist in Sherlock's life. Who, for whatever reason, aren't completely run off by his brash manner and strange behaviour. And, without these people, it's quite clear Sherlock, who is already barely functioning in the world, wouldn't be able to survive. But none of these established relationships are as important as the legendary meeting that takes place in this episode, just as it did in ACD's first Sherlock Holmes novel of similar name.

Sherlock Holmes, in need of someone with which to share the rent, is introduced to Dr. John Watson, recently returned from military service in Afghanistan. John is struggling with operating in the world himself, albeit in different ways: injured in action, he's seeing a therapist for PTSD and has a psychosomatic limp in his leg that's so pronounced he has to rely on a cane to get around. Sherlock sizes up John quickly. Although of average intelligence, John is a capable assistant (trained as a medical doctor, of course, and also openly in awe of Sherlock's deductive ability), and also has a taste for danger, in which Sherlock finds himself a lot of the time. Much of the episode showcases the catalyst of their friendship, and how well they complement each other, even from the beginning. John seems to be the only one who can talk sense into Sherlock – sometimes. And Sherlock single-handedly cures John's limp within two days of meeting him, by presenting him with a situation in which they need to pursue the serial suicides suspect on foot. All John really needs is a purpose, and what Sherlock needs is an anchor. From here their friendship is cemented and sets the stage for future adventures that John decides to chronicle in his blog.

That covers the significance of the relationships between Sherlock and the other characters in this episode. But what about his own character? Other than demonstrating himself as a condescending manic super genius detective with a history of narcotics abuse, there's a very interesting reveal about his motives in this episode.

It begins with the set up to the climax scene. (And continues into the climax scene itself, but the lead in is so important.) When confronted with the killer he'd been tracking, a taxi driver known now and hereafter as the Cabbie since his name is never revealed, Sherlock is given a choice. The Cabbie boasts that he doesn't kill his victims; he talks to them, and then they kill themselves. He says that if Sherlock calls the cops on him, he'll give up without a fight, but he'll never admit how he committed the crimes. However, if Sherlock gets in the cab with him, the Cabbie will show him his method.

"What, so you can kill me, too?" Sherlock retorts.

"I don't wanna kill you, Mr. Holmes," the Cabbie says, smugly. "I'm gonna talk to you, and you're gonna kill yourself."

The question is clear: what does Sherlock care about more, bringing a killer to justice, or solving the puzzle of how the murders were carried out? Not only that, but is he reckless enough – or conceited enough – to think he can willingly put himself in the killer's clutches and reason his way out of it unscathed?

No one in their right mind would get in the cab.

Sherlock gets in the cab.

Justice is not what's important to Sherlock. The Cabbie is right; Sherlock can't stand to leave a mystery unsolved. He thinks very little of his life and, at the same time, very highly of his own intellect, to narcissistic proportions, even. And, most of all, as the Cabbie says himself, Sherlock will do anything to stop being bored. In a world full of "ordinary people," Sherlock is so intellectually ahead of the masses that his entire existence is spent trying to stave off a dangerous restlessness. Sometimes he even turns to drug use to quell it, but more often it comes in the form of solving mysteries and even putting his life in jeopardy in the process. All of this is painfully clear when he gets into that cab, leaving an entire Scotland Yard squad and his new flatmate behind.

The resulting confrontation is a battle of wits between Sherlock and the Cabbie, which Sherlock almost loses. The Cabbie is also terribly smart, and is able to hit upon Sherlock's true motive. The method of murder, offering the victims two identical bottles of pills, only one of which is poisonous, trips Sherlock up. (Apparently he's never seen The Princess Bride.) Whichever bottle the victim picks, the Cabbie will take the other one. But somehow he's managed to live four times over. While Sherlock reads the Cabbie's situation accurately enough to call his bluff when it comes to threatening Sherlock at gunpoint – the gun the Cabbie uses isn't real – the question of which pill is which remains unsolved. Sherlock has the option to simply walk away at that point, but instead he chooses to risk it, to prove he is right about whether he picked the correct pill.

Fortunately, John arrives at the moment in which they are about to find out, and shoots the Cabbie in order to protect Sherlock. We never actually find out whether Sherlock was correct (and in fact he shouts at the dying Cabbie, trying to get an answer about whether or not he figured it out), but one thing is certain: Sherlock himself possesses some very serious character defects which can only come back to haunt him.

There is one other important bit to be gleaned from the Cabbie. He says that Sherlock has a fan, and that same person is sponsoring his own murdering spree: for every person the Cabbie kills, a certain amount of money goes to his children, who he'd like to provide for after his own death. ("Who'd sponsor a serial killer?" Sherlock retorts when he hears about this, to which the Cabbie replies, "Who'd be a fan of Sherlock Holmes?") In his dying moments, Sherlock grills the Cabbie for information about this fan, this sponsor, to which the Cabbie can only utter one name: "Moriarty."

Who – or what – is Moriarty?

Sherlock has absolutely no idea.



The Blind Banker

YOU'RE IN LUCK, I DON'T ACTUALLY LIKE THIS EPISODE VERY MUCH. So I'm not going to ramble about it extensively. There's not much in the way of character development and overall plot progression here. It's just kind of a straight up mystery that gets solved and that's it. Sherlock and John have been flatmates for a bit now and apparently are somewhat struggling financially. This leads them to a job deciphering a strange code that appears in graffiti form in a banker's office. Long story short, this leads them to uncovering a smuggling ring led by a formidable gang from China. They defeat the gangsters, John gets a girlfriend, and everyone goes home.

The most important bits for Sherlock's character are:

- Sherlock stayed on civil enough terms with a university classmate that the guy contacted him after eight years of silence to ask a favour. Impressive.

- Sherlock apparently doesn't understand dating etiquette, since he sees no problem with just inviting himself along on John's date. Not so impressive.

- The subsequent Chinese gang they manage to expose has ties to the mysterious Moriarty organisation.

The last part is the most important, but it's established in about the last five seconds, so it's not like you even really get to enjoy the revelation. Still, it does set up the next episode nicely...


The Great Game

In which the mysterious Moriarty finally makes a move. A move to get at Sherlock, in fact. True to the title, an unnamed bomber sets up an elaborate game of mysteries to see if Sherlock can solve them on a very short time table. If not, hostages are blown up in public areas, taking out pedestrians and generally causing chaos and horror.

Sherlock is delighted.

The consequences of his dangerous restlessness established in A Study in Pink are brought up once again. There's someone out there, someone terribly brilliant and sinister, and Sherlock is more than happy to dance for him or her or it, just to have proper mental stimulation. It's something that doesn't sit right with John, since the fun Sherlock has at the expense of innocent lives borders on maniacal. It disappoints John, that someone he respects so much can be so callous about human life, although Sherlock maintains that caring about the victims won't help save them. And of course he is right about that; emotional investment would only make him get sloppy, and in order to stay on the top of his intellectual game, he must divorce himself from all sentiment. But at this point he's still not playing the game – revealed to be Moriarty's – to save lives. He's playing because he's found a match, and because, as Moriarty's message says, they were made for each other.

Slight aside, but I'm not sure where else to put this. This episode does also introduce Sherlock's homeless network (a play on Holmes's gang of street orphans called the Baker Street Irregulars), a group of homeless people he pays to do underground digging around the city and find him information he wouldn't be able to get otherwise. Handy way of getting intel!

But back to the main point. Sherlock plays the game and solves the cases given to him almost flawlessly. But when they think it's over, he can't walk away, just like he couldn't walk away from the Cabbie's challenge about the pills. He contacts his adversary and arranges a meeting in a secure location. As incentive, he even offers to hand over top secret missile plans Mycroft had Sherlock recover. So not only is he playing with fire trying to meet a crazy bomber, he's prepared to compromise national security as a "getting-to-know-you" present. So clearly he's learned nothing; still reckless, still trying to escape boredom, still putting himself in a possibly fatal situation just to prove he's clever.

Who knows what might have happened if Sherlock and Moriarty had finally got to have their proper meeting all by their lonesome. Perhaps something dark and sinister. But as it so happens, Moriarty makes one final move that unfortunately makes their meeting anything but sweet.

You see, he abducts John, straps him with explosives, and then sends him out to talk with Sherlock first. :D

Here's where the tables turn and Sherlock has his first true flash of conscience. He may not care about innocent strangers, but he does care about John, essentially the only friend he's ever had. And of course Moriarty has observed this, and chooses to use it against Sherlock. And so this is an intellectual love that can never be, because Moriarty is in fact the psychopath that Sherlock is not.

It's then revealed that this man, who goes by the name Jim Moriarty, has a function that is a mirror image of Sherlock's. Sherlock is a consulting detective, who helps solve crimes. Moriarty calls himself a consulting criminal, meaning he sets up crime, with the help of an extensive organisation at his disposal. But he too gets bored, being smarter than everyone... except Sherlock, that is. So that's why he set up the bombing game, just to have some fun. And they certainly did have fun, until John and Sherlock's own lives were put at risk.

Then John tries to attack Moriarty to save Sherlock, but Moriarty calls that bluff by having his snipers train a gun on Sherlock and then John backs off and then Moriarty emotes crazily a bit more and Sherlock is barely holding back his horror because Moriarty is fucking terrifying and Moriarty says to back the fuck off because Sherlock's been interfering just a little too much with his consulting criminal business and then—

Well Moriarty kinda leaves and Sherlock gets the explosives off John but then Moriarty comes back and says he's decided they should both die anyway. So in response Sherlock trains his gun on the bombs that are still hanging around on the floor and it looks like he might blow all of them up and then—

...

Series 2

Moriarty's phone rings.

Long story short, Moriarty is distracted, he promises to return at some point and ruin Sherlock's life, and he peaces out. But where exactly can the dynamic duo go from here?

Series co-creator Mark Gatiss said that they wanted to tell three stories with series 2: Sherlock and love, Sherlock and fear, and Sherlock and death. With that in mind, here's the important character bits that happen in each episode.

A Scandal in Belgravia

The title is a play on the ACD story "A Scandal in Bohemia," and true to that, it introduces the character of Irene Adler. Traditionally, Irene is the only woman who ever beat Sherlock Holmes, and, honestly, the only one he ever refers to with any sort of emotion at all. (Often coldly, as "the woman," unable to speak of her by name.) This has led her to become his love interest in a variety of adaptations.

So here's what happens. Sherlock gets summoned to Buckingham Palace through Mycroft to solve a matter of delicacy for the British royal family. It seems a young female person has been spending time with Irene Adler, known professionally as "the Woman." You see, the Woman is what you'd call a dominatrix by trade, and is in possession of some compromising photographs with herself and this young female person tied to the British royal family. (Yes, they are totally implying that Irene did Kate Middleton.) Anyway, Sherlock is supposed to retrieve the photographs so Irene can't blackmail the royals. Sherlock dons a terrible disguise as a vicar, shows up at Irene's house with John in tow, and then the real fun begins.

Irene is also brilliant; a match for Sherlock's intellect, even. She sees through his disguise and can read him quite well, while he is left scrambling trying to get a read on her. She outsmarts him and escapes with the photographs - and a large number of other sensitive material contained on a camera phone – and disappears. But she returns briefly to return his coat (which she borrowed after walking in on him naked to make an impression), and puts her number in his phone, setting the text alert tone to ... herself making an orgasm noise. She then takes to flirting with him through text messages. And although Sherlock never replies, he also very pointedly never changes the text alert noise back to something less obscene, either.

So, then. Sherlock's feelings about Irene. Sherlock is, in a word, smitten. But given his strange personality, he doesn't react normally to having these sorts of feelings. In fact, it's heavily implied he's never had anything resembling a romantic relationship with anyone... which is quite plausible, given his abrasive manner and complete social ineptitude. He tries to deal with it mostly through heavy doses of denial and then, when he thinks she's been killed by the parties pursuing the confidential information she's stolen, completely shutting down. In John's own words, "He's writing sad music... doesn't eat, barely talks... well, except to correct the television." It's true Sherlock's moods can take self-destructive turns, but in this particular situation, he's fallen victim to something he describes himself as a defect found in the losing side: sentiment. Caring is dangerous, as he says in The Great Game, but the crack in his icy exterior has already been made by his friendship with John, and Irene Adler has only made it spiderweb outward.

Interestingly, this spiderweb effect has a far greater reach than just his feelings for Irene. Sherlock learns that Irene is indeed still alive, and had only faked her own death for her protection, and he storms off in a cloud of shock and outrage. He returns to 221B only to find that the people looking for Irene have tracked her movements to Sherlock. And, looking for the camera phone Irene left with Sherlock for safe-keeping, these people have attacked Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock's response to the threat against the woman who has become his surrogate mother is nothing short of murderous rage. He overpowers the attacker, calls the police on him, and then throws him out a window.

...That's right. He defenestrates that mofo.

Later he embraces Mrs. Hudson (after raiding her fridge, he really IS like her son) and sings her praises, saying that if she ever left Baker Street "England would fall." She did sneak the camera phone into her shirt to hide it from the assailants, proving that she is in fact the most badass old lady in Great Britain, but I digress.

Irene inevitably reappears, wanting her camera phone back. It's password protected, and although Sherlock has had it for months, he's been unable to guess the correct password. Unfortunately, this is when the happy couple encounters turbulence in their relationship. It turns out Irene is in league with Moriarty (and in fact it was her phone call to him that saved Sherlock and John's life), and she is trying to seduce Sherlock in order to get him to decipher a code she has gathered from a client in the Ministry of Defence. "Seduced" has an interesting definition when it applies to Sherlock. Despite her advances, she never actually gets in his bed. ...Well, okay, she does, but not like that. She does, however, get past his mental defences, and, eager to show off to her, he deciphers the code in about five seconds. Irene then reports to Moriarty and Moriarty tips off the terrorist cells that this defense program was defending against, and the result is kind of a giant clusterfuck.

Mycroft hurries in for damage control, but it's already too late. His little brother has compromised national security just to impress a woman. Sherlock's feeling of betrayal is profound, but he's able to rein in the damage himself by realising Irene's deepest secret. Although she's been playing him all along, she became too invested in the game, and in fact became smitten with Sherlock herself. Because of this, he is able to deduce the password to her phone that's been eluding him for so long: the deeply sentimental "I am Sherlocked."

That could have been the end of Irene Adler. Her plans ruined, her deal with Moriarty void, she would undoubtedly be caught by him or the terrorist cells she let down, and killed within six months. Sherlock seems to casually shun her, and won't even refer to her by name after this whole fiasco, only "the Woman." So it's unsurprising that a report of her death comes trickling in. Mycroft doesn't want to tell Sherlock that she's dead for real this time, to spare him the mental trauma. So instead he and John tell Sherlock Irene got herself into a witness protection program in America. Sherlock seems to accept this and asks for her camera phone as a memento, which John reluctantly hands over.

...The final moments of the episode reveal that Sherlock tracked Irene down in secret and saved her from execution. They may never see each other after this, but she is undoubtedly the woman... the one woman who matters.



The Hounds of Baskerville

A retelling of probably the most famous Sherlock Holmes tale, the novel The Hound of the Baskervilles. In this episode, there's a top secret government lab, called Baskerville, that, like all top secret government bases, are conducting possibly nefarious experiments. It's something of a local legend that there is an escaped experiment roaming the surrounding moorlands: a giant mutated hound. A traumatised citizen of a neighbouring town, Henry Knight, is convinced that this hound killed his father 20 years ago and is stalking the moor, possibly coming back for him. Although Henry seems emotionally disturbed Sherlock and John head out to the country to investigate his claim.

They infiltrate the Baskerville with Mycroft's security clearance, and although they find evidence of animal experimentation, there's no definitive evidence of research on anything canine. Next, Sherlock hatches an outright terrible plan to go back out to the moor at night with Henry as bait and see if anything attacks. Despite John's telling Sherlock that this is, in fact, a terrible plan, they go ahead and do it anyway. Sherlock experiences a moment of karma because his cruel plan backfires: not only does Henry see the hound in all of its demonic, red-eyed, supernatural glory, but Sherlock does as well. John gets separated from the two and misses the show, and returns only to find Henry insisting they saw it and Sherlock insisting that he didn't see a goddamn thing... even though he did.

And he very nearly falls apart over it.

Sherlock is someone who needs to be able to rely on his five senses, and therefore, science and logic, to deal with the world. When confronted with something he can perceive through these means that doesn't align with what he knows must be true about the laws of the universe, he suffers a crisis of faith – in himself. He begins feeling emotions he thought himself above: namely, both fear and doubt. This tips his often erratic behaviour into something downright unbalanced, even though he insists there's nothing wrong with him. (The terrible shakes he needs to quell with liquor rather says otherwise.) The resulting argument with John is perhaps the worst one they've had, with Sherlock even claiming, "I don't have friends," despite everything John has done and continues to do for him. Despite John's anger over the situation, he expresses concern for Sherlock's mental state to Henry's therapist, thinking Sherlock and Henry might be suffering from the same exhaustion-induced delusion. Given how unstable Sherlock can be, even on a good day, it's not a bad conclusion to come to. The line between genius and madness is rather fine.

Eventually Sherlock proves that a hallucinogenic gas is being released in a certain section of the moor, which transforms an actual dog owned by local innkeepers into the monster of horrifying proportions through fear and stimulus. A worker at Baskerville was using this method to try to discredit Henry as a lunatic, to cover up the fact that this worker killed Henry's father himself. With a rational explanation procured, Sherlock's mental state balances out again... or well, returns its usual equilibrium. But the seeds here have been sown; another crack has appeared in Sherlock's outward composure. He even admits to John that he has never doubted himself so fully before... and actually admits that he considers John his only friend. Gasp, more sentiment! Still, this situation shows it won't take very much to break Sherlock completely. If he's ever again faced with a situation he can't explain or control, who knows where it might lead him.

And, as is revealed in the final moments of the episode, his downfall is coming. Moriarty, locked in a cell in some undisclosed location, is set free... by Mycroft, of all people. The empty cell he leaves behind is covered in Sherlock's name.

Old scores are about to be settled.


The Reichenbach Fall

This episode really should be called "Moriarty Runs Wild," because that's basically what he does. This episode is a retelling of the ACD story "The Final Problem," in which, rather famously, ACD attempted to kill off the character of Sherlock Holmes so that he wouldn't have to write any more stories about him. In the original, Holmes and Moriarty fall off a cliff together into a waterfall called the Reichenbach Falls. With that in mind, just the title of this episode is enough to inspire a sense of dread in anyone familiar with the original story.

The episode itself does not disappoint. It's largely about Moriarty systematically destroying Sherlock's life with frightening ease. Moriarty uses Sherlock's runaway self-confidence against him. Sherlock's reckless attitude and superiority has long been a flaw no one has been clever enough to truly take advantage of... until now. Moriarty uses his own intellect, the network of henchmen he's accumulated over the years, and the weaknesses he's identified in his rival to turn everyone against Sherlock. As Sherlock has gained fame and popularity for his detective work, highlighted by John's blog, he is due for a "fall," in Moriarty's words. Just the right suggestions planted into everyone's mind, due to a crime that is set up to look like Sherlock did it himself. Soon, Sherlock's acquaintances at Scotland Yard are questioning the validity of his brilliance and ability to solve cases. It's something people like Donovan and Anderson are only too willing to believe, having suffered under Sherlock's arrogance long enough. It's a tougher sell on Lestrade, and John is dead-set against believing it, being too loyal and having spent too much time with Sherlock to be fooled. "No one can fake being such an annoying dick all the time," he snaps when Sherlock suggests Moriarty might be tricking John as well.

Still, Moriarty moves on unimpeded, and Sherlock keeps on walking into his trap. In a brilliant move on Moriarty's part, he is able to set up his own identity as a struggling actor named Richard Brook. Brook then gives an expose to a journalist about Sherlock's life story... and how Sherlock hired him to "play" Moriarty, to give Sherlock a high-profile rival and continue making him look like a supergenius detective. The story itself is extremely believable, especially since it contains actual details about Sherlock's life that very few people would know about... and it turns out that Mycroft gave Moriarty these details while detaining Moriarty for "questioning." Mycroft and his government officials have been interested in Moriarty for quite some time, but the only way to get him to reveal information was for Mycroft to exchange information about Sherlock. Which pretty much makes Mycroft the worst big brother in the history of the world, given what Moriarty is able to do with this information.

This leads to a confrontation between Moriarty and Sherlock on the rooftop of St. Bartholomew's Hospital, and the final move of Moriarty is simple: Sherlock must kill himself, completing the fraud story Moriarty set up for him, or his network of assassins will kill the few people in his life Sherlock cares about. It's an interesting reversal from The Great Game. Circumstances have changed Sherlock. He's no longer the morally defunct, socially isolated mess who was all too delighted to play Moriarty's game to stave off boredom. He has evolved. Through the help of John mainly, but also Molly, and Mrs. Hudson, and Lestrade, and Irene Adler, and the experiences with the supposed demon hound of Baskerville, he has finally sorted out his humanity. He is indeed a human being, and he does indeed care.

So will he kill himself to save his friends?

...That's certainly what it looks like. While Sherlock threatens to stoop to Moriarty's level of cruelty to obtain an escape route, Moriarty actually shoots himself in the head to make sure Sherlock has no other way out side from going through with the plan. (That's dedication, man.) So Sherlock does, it seems. He even tries to convince John in a suicide note/phone call that he is a fraud, just so John will abandon him, since he knows John would stay too loyal too him otherwise, and probably end up dead.

What happens after this are somewhat ambiguous. Sherlock does appear to jump off the rooftop. Someone does hit the ground, and it looks like him. Everyone thinks he has died, John included. Yet at the very end of the episode, he is shown to be still alive. Like the ACD incarnation before him, he's pulled some kind of stunt and cheated death. Molly Hooper is very likely involved. Shortly before his confrontation with Moriarty he goes to her, visibly shaken, and confesses that he's not okay, he thinks he's going to die, and he needs her help. It's a pretty wonderful moment of vindication, since Molly has been a saint to him all this time and he's never returned the slightest kindness. In the wake of his newfound humanity, he turns to her, admits that he's always trusted her and she's always "counted" (since, earlier, she told him that she doesn't count when it comes to the people in his life). And because Molly is pretty much the most amazing human being ever, she agrees to help him without question.

So, Molly probably helps with the death faking somehow. How he did it hasn't yet been revealed, nor what he plans to do now that he's "dead." But it's definitely directly after Sherlock spies Mrs. Hudson and John visiting his own grave that he finds himself in Anatole.

...So he's kind of at rock bottom here, having just lost everything, including confidence in himself, his identity, his friends, his life...

Nowhere to go but up, right?

personality:

General

It seems only fitting to start with a reading of his physical exterior in the same manner Sherlock uses to size up the people around him. So here's what we have: moderately tall British male, approximately early 30s in age. Somewhat chaotic curly brown hair worn long enough and to give him a peculiarly youthful look. This suggests a carelessness about appearance that is rather contradicted by being constantly clean-shaven and well-dressed. Favours suits complete with jackets, but never ties. Never jeans, either, implying an attempt to look sharp but not stuffy – possibly deliberately trying not to look like his brother Mycroft, who dresses so formally he even wears a pocket watch to complete the look. Wears a wrist watch, carries a magnifying glass and a cell phone. He prefers texting over phone conversations. Likes high-end gadgets and even appears to graduate to Apple products for both phone and computer in between seasons, probably due to an increase with wealth as his popularity increased. Has a strange, piercing gaze, aided by large blue eyes. Is known to putter around his flat in PJs and one of two snazzy dressing gowns. Occasionally sleeps in the nude.

All of this suggests a person aware of how he is perceived by others but who isn't catering to it. There's an almost oxymoronic air about him: he can dress to impress but he can't get a haircut? Yet there's something terribly authentic about him. He isn't faking anything; he's just present and his presence is formidable. He storms a room with self-confidence so evident you can't help but give him your attention and he hasn't even opened his mouth yet.

Then he does open his mouth, and it's possible you'll want to punch him.

To further contradict his boyish appearance, when Sherlock speaks he has a deep, commanding voice that's often impossible to ignore. He has a very specific manner of speech, especially when going through one of his deductions. During these, or perhaps just some of his more manic moments, he can rant at an exceedingly fast clip, allowing no one to get a word in edgewise. Even when conversing normally, he is usually blunt, condescending and downright rude, sometimes unintentionally but just as often deliberately. He knows himself to be smarter than all the rest and has no qualms flaunting it at every possible moment. In fact, he even admits he is a show off and relishes being able to use his deductive ability to wow (or infuriate) his audience. Alternately, when deep in thought, he is prone to bouts of silence and can zone out long enough to miss the comings and goings of those around him. His mind is a strange and chaotic place, the inner-workings of which remain a mystery to the other people who happen to be in the room.

This leads us to an important aspect of his persona. Sherlock possesses very nuanced body language that often gives cues to how his mind is working. He is often prone to sitting with his fingertips pressed together when thinking. He has a very darting gaze, as he is always observing and processing new information. He has a number of facial tics, and is often narrowing and widening his eyes when investigating. Often he is full of nervous energy, jiggling fingers or toes when unable to sit still. He can be both very twitchy and very graceful in his movements, giving the overall effect that there's always some strange, unexpected gears turning in his brain, accelerated way beyond the speed of those around him. He's also known to spew out conclusions that don't seem to make any sense initially, because his mind leapt to the conclusion far faster than anyone else.

He can also be ridiculously childish. He loves having the last word, can be combative and moody for reasons not readily apparent – although often out of boredom and restlessness. He is especially resentful toward his brother Mycroft. For example, in A Scandal in Belgravia, a combination of his resentfulness and stubbornness leads him to be taken to Buckingham Palace for a meeting about a case in nothing but a sheet. And because Mycroft refuses to give the identity of his client, he still refuses to get dressed and even threatens to walk away through the palace naked. (...Thankfully, John talks sense into both brothers before Sherlock ends up arrested for public nudity.)

Those he deems worthy of his company do see a softer side of him sometimes. His sense of humour can be scathingly funny when he uses it at the expense of someone other than you. His compliments are oddly endearing, usually just because he so rarely dispenses them. Many of his social blunders are because of obvious cluelessness, and he is willing to be coached on them by you, if he values your opinion. And if he values you, he'll become protective of you, even if you didn't expect him to be capable of such things.

To sum him up, Sherlock is brilliant, eccentric, and can be terribly difficult to deal with. If you're lucky, however, you'll receive rare moments of kindness from him, and may even find yourself pulled in by his strange charm.

Mental Disorders(?)

Throughout the series, it's clear there's something "off" about Sherlock, but no one seems to know exactly what it is. In A Study in Pink, Donovan and Anderson of Scotland Yard throw around the word "psychopath," but Sherlock corrects them by stating he's a "high-functioning sociopath." This claim is also erroneous, however, especially since sociopathy is no longer a valid psychological classification – it was merged with psychopathy. So. Either he was wrongly diagnosed at one point in time, he self-diagnosed through questionable methods like internet research, or he just wanted to have the last word. Whatever the reason, he doesn't behave much like the clinical definitions of a psychopath or sociopath. In fact, at one point John guesses Asperger's and that's probably closest to the truth. He behaves most like someone in the autism spectrum: the long-winded uninterrupted speeches, repetitive motor behaviour, and lack of empathy are just a few of the many criteria for Asperger's that he meets. And unlike psychopathy, he can certainly feel complex emotions, he just has difficulty understanding and articulating them.


Addictions, Drugs and Otherwise

Sherlock Holmes's drug addiction has long since been a topic of debate in regards to the original literary canon of Arthur Conan Doyle. It has been speculated on, expounded upon, etc etc in various incarnations. In the original, however, Sherlock's drug use gets commented upon with some disapproval by Watson, but it never crops up as a debilitating crutch. The casual mention that Holmes occasionally injected cocaine (which was legal, given the time period) and perhaps even paid visit to local opium dens seemed more to be an indication of how his mind worked. That is, that he was so far ahead of everyone else, that if he did not have proper distraction in his work, he would find other, more destructive ways of occupying it himself.

I bring this up because instead of delving more deeply into Sherlock's drug addiction in the show, the writers opt to allude to it just as lightly as Conan Doyle did, except with a modern attitude. It's never outright stated what drugs Sherlock has used in the past, but he clearly has a history with them. And, while always clean when on screen, there is an underlying threat, as with any recovered addict, that he may relapse. In A Study in Pink, Lestrade sets up a drug bust of 221B Baker Street. It's not in fact to look for drugs, but just so he can gain access to Sherlock's flat, where Lestrade suspects Sherlock is withholding evidence pertaining to their case. Still, when Sherlock protests, "So you set up a pretend drugs bust to bully me?" Lestrade becomes quite serious and replies, "It stops being pretend if they find anything." Additionally, John nobly steps forward to defend Sherlock's character, honestly outraged that Lestrade could mistake Sherlock for a junkie. However, John's only known Sherlock for about 48 hours at that point, and Sherlock's guilt-laden command to shut up speaks volumes.

Conclusion: Sherlock's been mixed up in drugs before, and Lestrade obviously knows it to be a weakness. Sherlock maintains that he's clean, and that he doesn't even smoke. Indeed, he seems to be quitting that as well throughout series 1, although he tends to abuse nicotine patches to help him think.

Series 2 furthers the idea that drug and smoking addiction is an on-going struggle for Sherlock. In A Scandal in Belgravia, Mycroft offers him a cigarette after Sherlock identifies Irene Adler's body. Not only does Sherlock take it and smoke it, he then complains that it's only low-tar. Mycroft quips, "You barely knew her," as if Sherlock's level of indulgence for such things should be measured by the weight of his grief.

Interestingly, Mycroft uses the offering of the cigarette as a test to see if Sherlock may in fact use that night. Once Sherlock leaves, Mycroft immediately calls John to see if he and Mrs. Hudson had found any drugs in the flat. The answer is no, but John knows to ask if Sherlock took the cigarette, which he did. They both seem upset about this fact, and John asks, "Are you sure this is a danger night?" Mycroft says, "No, but then I never am." He then urges John to keep an eye on Sherlock to make sure he doesn't use. This means Mycroft has been trying to police Sherlock's drug abuse for some time, and by this point in the show John and Mrs. Hudson both seem well-versed in dealing with possible falls from the wagon.

In situations of drug rehab, cigarettes are often used as a substitute addiction to wean an addict off a harder drug. It's feasible, then, to assume that if Sherlock, whose status quo is usually no drugs, no cigarettes, chooses to give in to the cigarette craving, the use of a harder drug (probably cocaine, as is traditional, since he seems to chase stimulation) may not be far behind. He doesn't use in that particular episode, as far as I can tell, since when he returns home he only petulantly snaps to John, "I hope you didn't mess up my sock index this time," and goes to bed.

...I could expound on why the hell he keeps a sock index but I think that speaks for itself.

The last real attention given to his addiction comes in the next episode, The Hounds of Baskerville. At the beginning of the episode Sherlock seems to be caught in the throes of some terrible withdrawal, and it's not clear what exactly from. It's soon revealed that it's cigarettes, and that in fact he paid off every store within a two-mile radius to keep from selling him any. So again, his struggles with addiction are clearly multi-leveled, but only sprinkled throughout the episodes in a very light fashion.

All of this goes back to the idea of what ACD seemed to want to achieve with the drug use, which the writers weave into the fabric of the show with immense grace. Sherlock exhibits the behaviour of an addict in most of the things he does. It's distraction he craves, anything to stop being bored. He acts reckless and over-confident, seeking thrills, challenges to his intellect, and even seems to compromise morality for the sake of self-gratification, as shown in The Great Game.

The Evolution of Sherlock Holmes

It's the addition of Moriarty as his main adversary that turns the tables on the aforementioned sort of behaviour. Sherlock's amusement for Moriarty's antics in The Great Game fall away when Moriarty begins to toy with the people Sherlock cares about – at first, before he even realised he cared about them. While Sherlock and Moriarty seem to agree that they are the same near the end of The Reichenbach Fall, the opposite is painfully obvious. Sherlock's actions and decisions stop being self-serving. And instead, he scrambles quite painfully to preserve the lives Moriarty has threatened. He goes so far as to remove himself from the picture entirely, allowing everyone to think he is dead because it's safer for them.

By the end, he has indeed become human. It's just a shame that everyone who would care thinks he's a dead disgraced fraud.


why do you feel this character would be appropriate to the setting?

A modernised version of a quintessential Victorian character put back into a Victorian setting? How could I possibly resist the irony of that?

I initially had some concerns about the type of character Sherlock is, i.e. so very dependent on the laws of his own world - to the point where it's a deliberate personality flaw. Characters like that don't tend to fare well outside their own controllable environments. BUT THEN, the writers of this show brilliantly exploited that very weakness of his themselves. Series 2 was an exercise in cracking Sherlock open in various ways and then pretty much destroying his world view entirely.

What I'm trying to say here is, considering his canon point, he's already questioned everything he's always held to be true and things can't get much worse for him. I'm suddenly less afraid he'd hit rock bottom in Anatole because he's already done that back home. He'll still face some challenges, especially when it comes to his non-belief in the supernatural, but that can't hold a candle to the crisis of faith in himself he's already had.

Writing Samples

Network Post Sample:

Sample #1 - First thread, although a second one starts if you scroll down far enough, but the two aren't related to each other. Still, both are a good example of Sherlock's psyche before The Reichenbach Fall.

Sample #2 - An exploration of Sherlock's psyche after The Reichenbach Fall. Obviously he's... been through a lot.


Third Person Sample:

ACTION LOG, but heavy on the prose in brackets.


Anything else? So I know having access to two Forges regularly is frowned on, but I was wondering if it was possible to occasionally say he's borrowed a Forge for texting purposes (either an NPC's or, if it fits and I have permission, a PC's), in the case that he'd like to communicate without having it traced back to his own Forge number. He's known to do his with people's mobile phones in canon, but I wanted to clear it with the mods before going ahead with it.

ALSO HI ARE YOU SICK OF ME APPING DETECTIVES YET idk what it is

FINALLY HAVE THIS COMIC, it is a good representation of how people should deal with Sherlock.