In a car, not far from the saloon that held the American John Watson and his burly sister, Harry Watson, held a high-class gentleman by the name of Sherlock Holmes. Mr. Holmes was once a wealthy man until his family's funds slowly became more and more less from his father's side not contributing any more money. The Holmes were known as a rich family in England and they had practically depended their life on this pointless title. Sherlock Holmes was to be married to a man by the name of James Moriarty. James Moriarty was much more older than Sherlock, had large amounts of cash, and was fairly handsome for his age. Sherlock did not love James Moriarty, and he never planned to. He'd much rather die than marry Moriarty, or perhaps, kill Moriarty. Unfortunately, the dark-haired genius would easily be suspected. Even if Sherlock's mother didn't notice, as well as his fiancé, he hated the man with a passion.
The Holmes family normally wore the finest attire that money could buy. Sherlock's mother, Mrs. Holmes (widowed), wore fine silk and cotton. She was regularly complimented for the things she wore, especially her expensive and vintage jewelry that was passed down to her for generations upon generations. She wore fancy hats that were decorated with either magnificent stitching or a single feather. Sherlock, on the other hand, wore a slimming suit with a dark purple dress shirt, and normally had a dark blue scarf with him. For warmth, he wore a high-quality trench coat that he had owned for quite some time. Moriarty had tried multiple times to rid Sherlock of his trench coat and dark blue scarf, but he would only respond with the silent treatment, which James absolutely hated. Sherlock didn't like to have his clothing to be the most best thing around, which was why he almost always covered up his expensive suit with a dark, long coat. To his misfortune, he was unable to wear it, due to the warm day in April. Just another reason to hate his fate. As for what Mycroft wears, no one really cares. We all know that the reader will probably just think of their regular outfits.
Moriarty would always wear a light-colored suit that showed off light colors of grey or pinstripe. He had the classic white dress shirt and black or striped tie, with the occasional bow tie for special events. James also carried a cane around and sometimes wore hats that flattered his facial structure. His eyes were an incredibly dark brown, and the way he made eye contact with people and the way he used his words could easily manipulate someone with an ordinary mind. Sherlock wish that he wouldn't do this, for his own mother was pity in Moriarty's hands. Sherlock's brother, Mycroft, could see it, too. The two had attempted to budge their mother with no avail. Mycroft was a fairly clever man and a somewhat loyal brother, and he was accompanying them all on the trip.
"I don't see what the big deal is," the young gentleman commented to his fiancé, eyeing the sight of the ship as he exited the car. He wasn't one to easily be impressed, and he could easily deduct that the talk of such an "unsinkable ship" would be the fattest lie he had ever heard yet. If Sherlock Holmes were to die, he would not mind. He had nothing to look forward to. He was practically destined to become a pointless housewife of James Moriarty, and take it up the ass for the rest of his life due to lack of money. God, why didn't just fling himself off the ship and get it over with? Or, he could always take James's gun and shoot his own brains out. Acts of suicide was much more preferred than eternity with this arrogant and slimy nutcase.
But Sherlock Holmes kept himself well-preserved in a dignified manner and kept his head up high, showing to all he had no faults in his features or how he was presented. Inside, he was aching for it all to end. Anything but this type of life. Anything to get away from the prison that was Titanic, bringing him back to the dreaded America.