thearena | (no subject)

Who| Sherlock, John, Joan, Punchy, and OPEn
What| Sherlock decides to build a computer.
Where| In the Parking Garage
When| Endish of Week 2
Warnings/Notes| None yet, beyond the general warning of Sherlock being a complete tosser.

He'd been collecting pieces for days. Dissembling anything he came across that could possibly have electronic components in it, building a slowly growing pile of loot where Joan had been stashed while John built her a brace. Eventually, though, she was able to walk again, and Sherlock made the decision to make the final push.

Dragging his companions back to the parking garage with his trusty crowbar in tow and only a few broken ribs, he had all his components wrapped in various pieces of clothing stolen off the backs of glaring manikins. He would have to thank Timaeus for the crowbar later, but for now it was going to come in more useful than the man probably meant it to.

His aim was a vehicle, and he managed to find one that hadn't already been totaled by the other tributes.

"Stand back," He murmured to John and Joan as he angled into the window and cranked the door open before sliding inside. Checked the glove compartment, smirked a thanks to Punchy and drew out the key to hold it up.

"Well. Time to build a computer."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Sherlock was busy ripping open the dashboard where the cigarette lighter was usually plugged into.

"Well, neither of you quite have my collar bones, but I'm sure you'll manage," He smirked. The key was in the ignition, but he had not turned the car on. Not yet.

"Perhaps keep me alive for the next few hours? That, also, would be wonderful."

"Right. Okay." She shifted her eyes to John. "So...we both keep a lookout and John fights off anyone who tries to attack us? Because, gotta say, me trying to fight somebody? Would be way more hilarious than I'd like."

"I think you get to do the being pretty while I do the standing," he chuckled- though the thought had occurred to him, too. "Just keep an eye on my back, and Sherlock? If you really want to impress me, you could cut those few hours down to, say, one. Two at a push."

"Everything I ever do is to impress you, John Watson," Sherlock muttered, though it had an element of truth to it.

"And no, Joan, I don't expect you to fight." He pulled out of the car for a brief second, and handed her his crowbar. "Unless absolutely necessary, of course," he added with a smirk before returning to his work. "You'd be surprised what necessity and adversity will do to a person."

She took the crowbar, hefted it in her hands, testing the weight. "No, can't say I'll really be surprised." She gave him a small smile and then looked back at John. "You take that way, I'll take this way?"

"Works for me," he agreed, taking up position just where he could see as much of the parking lot as was possible from where they'd set up- there were the pillars still, of course, and the lighting wasn't exactly reliable, but they'd have to make do.

"So go on, Sherlock. Once you've made this thing work, what are you hoping to do with it?"

"Hoping to find something useful," Sherlock muttered. "I already know that it's impossible to get any connection outside of this arena, but some of this equipment was old, and some of it was placed here by the Capitol. Considering all the clean up is being done by robots..." He trailed off as he climbed into the car and started to make some sort of order of his parts.

"...They've got to be controlled by someone." She wasn't sure if that was what he was going to say, but it made sense. Even if they were automated somehow, their impulses must be coming from somewhere, and maybe wherever and whatever that was would have more information about what was going on in the arena. What was planned.

She wasn't going to say all that aloud, though, just in case the Gamemakers had somehow missed that possibility. It was never a good idea to announce plans in full.

"I'm going to do a quick check of the perimeter," John decided, made a little uneasy by the blind spots behind the pillars, and the multiple entrances. "Last thing we need is getting ambushed down here. Anything else you need that we've forgotten?"

"More likely something. There has to be something that transmits to them," he said to Joan.

Sherlock turned to John when he spoke. "I'm sure I'll think of something," he said, before reaching down and grabbing a small piece of metal, just big enough to fit inside someone's palm. He handed it to John. "Tap this three times against concrete if you need to warn us and don't want to shout."