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“Romance, I guess. But well. My ship, my rules! You abide and we will get along nicely.”

"Romance for sure... I see you seem adventurous. I like it."

"Space sure is big... despite all my years travelling in multiple corners of the galaxy, I'm always unable to discover every surprise it has stored for me" he says, his voice echoing under the mask that covers his face. Despite his metallic tone, a sense of contagious calmness, peace and absolute tranquillity surrounds him.

"But I can also see the darkness that you hide inside, the foul stench of senseless murder, an imbalanced puppet in the hand of the greed of the dark side. One time in the past, I would have praised such behaviour, from an assassin to another... but now? No, now I can see the wrong in my doings, the wrong that cost me the only thing that was worth having near me... and I'm not going to taint myself like that ever again."

(Pass)

"Hmm. . ." The alien woman floated around the man and tilted her head, "Hmm maybe . .I think I'll go with romance or if not then just a friend"

"I think ye'll do just fine next to me throne in the Underdark."

Romance

"No." He stuck out his tongue. "I don't like you."

Greg took one look at the young boy and shook his head. His protective instincts shifted into full gear and the detective inspector adjusted his policeman's stance to something a bit more parental before fixing the youth with a concerned albeit chastising expression. "You are a bit young to be participating in these sorts of things with other adults. Isn't there some kind of rules in play against this sort of thing?"

He'd nearly forgotten the name of the game himself before he added rather flatly, "I'll pass, but I'd like to see you get up to something more constructive, hm?"

"There are challenges to overcome, but not insurmountable ones... I would be willing to give Romance a chance."

“Great Vander’s ghost! It is none other than a lady from the future.. Please tell me of your terrifyingly modern future over a fireside chat.”

Romance

"I think I'll pass," muttered the elf. "I'd rather not get involved with the nobility, romantically or otherwise... if I can help it."

"Think I'll pass," Sherlock uttered barely above a whisper. However, he appeared to be preoccupied by the ears that protruded alongside the elf's head, and as such, he examined them with an obvious interest.

With a steely focus, the consulting detective also took note of the other's intriguing height. There was an influx of information -- most of which wasn't entirely discernable -- hitting him all at once, but sadly time was of the essence.

It was then Sherlock realized just how intensely he had been starting, and promptly, he turned away.

"Mm, how about no?" He threw an empty bottle of grape soda onto the floor.

“You know, you’re just a child in my eyes. Looking like that, and acting like that! No way in hell are you coming abroad, buddy. I have the seven seas to sail and vessels to plunder.” Pass

The hook-handed woman stared at the vessel, almost salavating before pointed that gleaming silver hook at the battle ship. "Well, lass, if I wan't too attached to the Jolly Roger, I'm sail ya through all the seas, and plunder whatever we fancy."

"Ain't sure I'd like endless days starin' at nuthin' but water, but when you come ashore, you and I might get 'long okay."

Romance

"You seem like a nice man,hmm how about we have a chat,maybe have a drink?" she offers kindly.

Romance

"Nope. You'd probably get annoyed with all of my lies, and honestly, I don't like girls like that."

"Dammit! What did I tell you before? You've literally got to be 14," Greg surmised hotly. He took note of all the empty bottles of -- what were they? Grape soda?

"So I imagine, like those runaways on Baker Street, you probably don't have anywhere else to go, and the system is too broken to help much, if any at all, but you really shouldn't be trying to pick up your elders like this. You'll endanger yourself and others in the process."

Greg took one solid look at the youth and his furrowed expression melted into something akin to sympathy. "I'm going to pass. Again. Please. Just be careful out there, all right?"

"I'm not a child. I'm 18 years old. And I'm going to pass because you keep thinking I'm a child! I'm not a child."

"Oh, let the poor Detective Inspector worry over you. He has a daddy complex," Jim snickers good naturedly. "Besides, you don't exactly act wise beyond your years, if you catch my drift, so surely you can see why people might think that."

Jim has witnessed how this one tends to react in delicate circumstances, so he chose to be wary in favor of the D.I.'s good intentions. "I will pass out of respect for the good guys this round."