Idly moping the floor, John had no idea why he was here. He went off to find Sherlock, opened his door and for some reason, walked right onto a pirate ship. Then again, this seemed to happen a lot just lately. First some had zombies, then a deserted London race and now a pirate ship. And not a terribly exciting one, someone just shoved a mop into his hands and told him to tidy up the mess. He couldn't see any! It was spotless.

Turning his head, he couldn't help but grin when he finally spotted someone familiar, definitely out of place like himself. Oh, he wasn't alone then. Last time he'd had Sherlock, now he had... well, he never did catch a name. But he recognises the voice right away.

"Hello again," twirling the mop idly in his hands, he hoped he'd tidied up whatever he was meant to be tidying. He couldn't exactly see it himself. "Or should I greet you all pirate like? Not sure-- any chance you know where we are?"