XV. The Adventure of the Cacophony In Potentia {Video; Open, and Spam}
{Holmes has been in his room most the day and, as his usual, is largely ignoring the noise over the network. He's vaguely aware something is going on, but can't bring himself to care. So, he sits, smoking in front of his fireplace, and talks about what is on his mind.}
It occurs, as I prepare for the upcoming art classes, that there is no similar venue for music to be taught. I am considering requesting instruments and related equipment. My question to you, fellow passengers, is where interests lie. What particular instruments are favoured for study, and who might be available to teach?
{He's going to have to make his requests days from now at least however, for as a paired Warden he's not likely to be heard.}
{OoC: If it's been said that there were already musical instruments in the art room, I failed to notice; I've been working under the assumption that there were not.}
{Spam for Reaver}
{Still smoking, Holmes has been in his room most the day. There's quite a fog in his room, as even the hidden and futuristic technology ventilating the Barge cannot fully compensate for the sheer amount of smoke Holmes has been continuously issuing from his pipe. He's been thinking, though perhaps stewing or dwelling would be more appropriate terms, and thinking requires smoking. He's tidied his rooms somewhat; while things are out of place there are no longer papers littering the floor. He'll probably sit like that all evening, so long as no one has the audacity to interrupt his highly important trains of thought.}
It occurs, as I prepare for the upcoming art classes, that there is no similar venue for music to be taught. I am considering requesting instruments and related equipment. My question to you, fellow passengers, is where interests lie. What particular instruments are favoured for study, and who might be available to teach?
{He's going to have to make his requests days from now at least however, for as a paired Warden he's not likely to be heard.}
{OoC: If it's been said that there were already musical instruments in the art room, I failed to notice; I've been working under the assumption that there were not.}
{Spam for Reaver}
{Still smoking, Holmes has been in his room most the day. There's quite a fog in his room, as even the hidden and futuristic technology ventilating the Barge cannot fully compensate for the sheer amount of smoke Holmes has been continuously issuing from his pipe. He's been thinking, though perhaps stewing or dwelling would be more appropriate terms, and thinking requires smoking. He's tidied his rooms somewhat; while things are out of place there are no longer papers littering the floor. He'll probably sit like that all evening, so long as no one has the audacity to interrupt his highly important trains of thought.}