...um. voicetesting, not particularly planning on sending him anywhere.

[solvings]

Yes, I'm well aware you're nervous over this. It was already a rash decision in itself, as your mind is tinier than you seem to think--and that isn't even taking into account the massive amount of people you've crammed into it--and now here we are.

A word of advice, mundane: don't even think of trying. You can barely keep up with the ones far less intelligent than you are, what could possibly make you believe you can even try your hand at me?

Comments

[cestrumnocturnum]

Rude.

[solvings]

But nevertheless true.

[cestrumnocturnum]

Sometimes it's better to be 'nice' instead of 'right'. And maybe you are, maybe you aren't.

[solvings]

I prefer right. Sugarcoating my words to soothe the fragile ego of an annoying girl wouldn't do a thing for my situation.

[cestrumnocturnum]

Maybe she'd send you somewhere nice, some day.

[solvings]

Oh, I doubt it. She's uncertain enough over this, I don't believe she'd even have the nerve to send me anywhere, let alone somewhere "nice".

[And his idea of nice is a murder that baffles even the smartest policeman. Granted, in his opinion, policemen aren't very smart.]

[cestrumnocturnum]

Well if you keep browbeating her like that...

[ Benji is just saying. And to thoroughly chip away at the fourth wall all the further; ]

You shouldn't listen to him, honey. I think you're doing well. Especially with the arrogance part.

[solvings]

Oh, yes, build up her self-esteem when she isn't even capable enough of making the simplest deductions without an enormous amount of errors. That will help.

[Meanwhile mun is blushing and just ignoring Sherlock's sarcasm.]

[cestrumnocturnum]

[ Wavewave passed Sherlock, before focusing on him again. ]

I bet you never did give Sir Arthur Conan Doyle this much difficulty.

[solvings]

I suspect I did. Or, if the mun is to be believed, another version did, anyway.

[He's a different version, man. Doyle is just a somewhat famous author in his world.]

[cestrumnocturnum]

Sorry; no BBC in dystopic New York, 2040. Books did better.

But you're probably right. Never mind.

[solvings]

I know I am.

[cestrumnocturnum]

[ Just this forever, really. Oh, you. ]

[johnwatsonblog]

You've really become too popular for your own good.

[solvings]

I'm far too aware of that already.

[Why else would he be stuck up here with nothing to do?]

[johnwatsonblog]

Of course you are.

I don't suppose there's much hope for this fad going away soon?

[womanwhobeatyou]

Afraid of losing, Mr. Holmes?

[solvings]

Annoyed, mainly.

Miss Adler. [He hasn't seen you since Pakistan.]

[womanwhobeatyou]

[She has seen plenty of you, but a new one is always interesting.]

And you'd take bored over annoyed?

[uncommon]

Not going to work.

[solvings]

I've noticed. It's inconvenient, really.

[uncommon]

Try just shutting up.

[Affable advice à la Holmes. That is, for a given value of 'affable'.

Sherlock gives Sherlock a considering look, head on one side, then announces her conclusion--]

Private investigator.

[A beat. A frown.]

Or not.

[And a sigh. Sherlock rolls her eyes and shoves a hand in her hair.

Irritably:]

Marvellous. Hilarious. I hate the multiverse.

[Everyone is the hero of their own story; to this Sherlock, the idea of a white, male her is positively absurd, and she can't fathom how the concept could possibly work. And now she's wondering, not without slight concern- is there a male Jane out there somewhere? Strange. That's actually more disconcerting than the idea of a Mr Holmes.]

[ophiovacca]

Quite the ego on you for such a new muse~