I'm also 'not the type' to be puppeteered into situations I have no control over, especially when they involve sending me to sex-crazed islands and dystopian space stations.
[ because you know, sex islands are kind of renowned for being the worst ]
[ oh. oh, he sees that attempt, john, and he is oh so unimpressed. ]
Interesting.
[ the word falls out of his mouth like it's lead - because that's not the word he'd use to describe amatomnes. no, the word interesting is reserved for long nights running around london circling through old leads and partial clues, for the experiments currently burning a hole through their refrigerator door, for the countless days they've spent tracking and chasing and deducing.
It has come to my attention that you and my employer have, at long last, gone over a waterfall. I can only assume it was a brilliant show, chummy. How did I do, then? No doubt I potted that blockhead Watson as I should have the first time 'round.
[ Moran, you weren't even a thought in anyone's mind. You failed to blow up Parliament and that's it. ]
Mm, after careful consideration, I've decided to give him a respectable three out of five stars. I didn't want to be too lenient with my scoring given that the fall was bordering upon excessive and his head only made contact with four out of the possible seven rocks.
[ he's just gonna shake his head sadly - oh, what a treat it would have been to see him catch rock after rock after rock. alas, it wasn't meant to be. ]
Although the landing truly was quite spectacular; I especially loved the sound of his neck snapping due to the sheer pressure of it all.
I think John was slightly preoccupied with booting your former employee off of a cliff.
... Not that it would have mattered either way, of course, as you weren't there in the first place. I suppose I decided to forgo the unnecessary aspects of our story.
{ there's a very pointed look here. because moran is 100% an unnecessary aspect ]
[ He doesn't really seem fazed. He listens to the ringtone (wow what is technology) and nods, eyebrows furrowed. ]
Not quite the crack I might have hoped for. You've disappointed me, old chap. I would lower his score to two out of five. I'd do a libation for the old sod, but why waste good whiskey, eh?
As for me, I got wise, didn't I? Likely knew it would be pointless and decided to do something else instead. No deduction necessary. I know me.
[ Sherlock narrows his gaze, head cocked to the side as he takes in the fellow detective. it's not as though he's never met alternate versions of himself - he's just never met one like... this. ]
Lestrade can do little else, it would seem.
[ Sherlock can tell that this man isn't lying. He can tell that his name is Sherlock Holmes, and he can tell that he has the intelligence to match his name. ]
[He smiles, pleased to be asked that particular question.]
Hardly a guess, I should think. The police of this time were out of their depth, naturally they came to me.
[Sound familiar?]
Or rather Inspector Lestrade did. Dug me out of mothballs, in a manner of speaking. [More like reanimated his dead corpse, but that's hardly poetic, is it? He carries himself like one from an older time period, the cane, or walking stick, more for defense purposes than a crutch for walking.
It's this walking stick he uses to point out the other man's hands.]
You should be more careful with your acids, they'll take your fingertips right off. [A few chemical stains visible only to those who are looking for them.]
[ but that's hardly a surprise, is it? of course she's important - she beat him. he might have returned the favour, but that just puts them back on even footing.
which means it's time to start dancing... metaphorically.
actual dancing comes with alcohol. ]
Bored? I was past that within seconds. No, I'd moved onto something more... [ destructive ] constructive.
[ which essentially means he spent his entire time hidden away in his mind palace, playing through different scenarios, repeating old memories and scratching out the ones he doesn't need any more. being efficient. ]
( ok, yes, she'd seen everything. she wasn't quite impressed - much like mycroft and john were not impressed. then again, she wasn't necessarily surprised, either.
how many times had she replayed her loss? how many times? enough that she barely had to think to conjure up the look on his face when he did beat her. )
[ They're never impressed, are they? But they, they don't have to cope with Sherlock's head. So it's all swings and roundabouts as far as he's concerned - until someone knows what it's like to have a brain that's constantly fighting him at every step of the way, then there's really no way to know how one would cope with it. ]
It would seem as though I don't have much of a choice regardless.
[ Because here he is, new icons and all. This is a terrible idea. Even he knows that. ]
( and she has to say, your sub conscious is increasingly more interesting. there were so many things she wanted to ask .. and yet it felt wrong to just bring it up? )
Where would you like to start? My personal preference is with the overdose, moving to the locket that you carry of my portrait.
[ Sherlock has never felt quite so exposed. Because there's no hiding from what's in his head; if Irene saw everything, then - well, she knows more than he'd ever willingly let on.
Yet another layer, so effortlessly stripped away.
He's going to start running out. ]
You weren't strictly in the narrative; you didn't even have Victorian garb. I wouldn't take that as a sign of anything if I were you. No need to get too over-enthused.
[ It's just a physical representation of their time together. That he just so happens to carry everywhere??? ]
As far as the overdose goes - well, it was fun while it lasted, wasn't it?
[ The answer is yes. It's always yes... until it isn't. Until it's withdrawal and that... well, that part he could do without, admittedly. ]
( most of what she saw .. well, she saw it. and she's not meaning to talk about it. perhaps it was the feeling of giving him a taste of his own medicine, though, that had her bringing up what she had so far.
after all, he could tell other people's thoughts and actions before they even opened their mouths. )
Is that your story then? 'Not strictly in the narrative'?
( tsk, tsk. do be more original. )
I do wonder where you keep all that. Surely not in your pocket.
( that was a great deal of drugs to have taken in such a sort period of time, sherlock. )
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She's quite mistaken.
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I'm also 'not the type' to be puppeteered into situations I have no control over, especially when they involve sending me to sex-crazed islands and dystopian space stations.
[ because you know, sex islands are kind of renowned for being the worst ]
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[Excuse his attempt at not laughing.]
That's an interesting choice for you.
1/3
Interesting.
[ the word falls out of his mouth like it's lead - because that's not the word he'd use to describe amatomnes. no, the word interesting is reserved for long nights running around london circling through old leads and partial clues, for the experiments currently burning a hole through their refrigerator door, for the countless days they've spent tracking and chasing and deducing.
amatomnes was not interesting.
it was hell.
but at least it had
cocainejohn. ]no subject
[ he breathes. fine, ok, interesting. if john wants interesting, sherlock will be sure to provide. ]
And I wouldn't be so quick to laugh if I were you; I wasn't alone on that island.
WHOOPS sorry my mac restarted without my permission
[ ... and the woman, but John doesn't need to know about that. ]
no problem!
[Though it may be true.]
I guess you'll have to adapt.
chum of my heart
[ Moran, you weren't even a thought in anyone's mind. You failed to blow up Parliament and that's it. ]
my bosom chum 1/3
[ he's just gonna shake his head sadly - oh, what a treat it would have been to see him catch rock after rock after rock. alas, it wasn't meant to be. ]
Although the landing truly was quite spectacular; I especially loved the sound of his neck snapping due to the sheer pressure of it all.
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[ cue Sherlock playing said ringtone. ok, sure, it happened in his mind palace, but this is dear mun and damnit everyone needs to one up moran.
so we're going to let it slide ok okok ]
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You? No, I didn't bother weaving you into the narrative at all.
surprise 4/4
... Not that it would have mattered either way, of course, as you weren't there in the first place. I suppose I decided to forgo the unnecessary aspects of our story.
{ there's a very pointed look here. because moran is 100% an unnecessary aspect ]
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Not quite the crack I might have hoped for. You've disappointed me, old chap. I would lower his score to two out of five. I'd do a libation for the old sod, but why waste good whiskey, eh?
As for me, I got wise, didn't I? Likely knew it would be pointless and decided to do something else instead. No deduction necessary. I know me.
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Doesn't always work, no. You might need to fall back on another plan.
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No means no, John. Didn't they cover that in medical school?
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But if our opinions made a difference in all this, neither of us would be here. There's not much else for it, Sherlock.
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Your opinion never made a difference in anything. This is my opinion, which holds significantly more weight.
[ just like the little pudge John's been steadily growing since he wandered into married life ]
She bought me a six month paid premium. I know where this is headed, thank you, and I'll have no part in it.
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[Says the man who claims to be Sherlock Holmes.]
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What's the truth?
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I am Sherlock Holmes. There is no reason to lie about such a fact. Lestrade of New Scotland Yard will vouch for my existence.
[However, curious to find he is observing some interesting conclusions about the man in front of him. Intelligent, focused, observant.]
sorry for being really slow im super rusty
Lestrade can do little else, it would seem.
[ Sherlock can tell that this man isn't lying. He can tell that his name is Sherlock Holmes, and he can tell that he has the intelligence to match his name. ]
Let me guess, you're a consulting detective?
no worries, consider this some practice :)
Hardly a guess, I should think. The police of this time were out of their depth, naturally they came to me.
[Sound familiar?]
Or rather Inspector Lestrade did. Dug me out of mothballs, in a manner of speaking. [More like reanimated his dead corpse, but that's hardly poetic, is it? He carries himself like one from an older time period, the cane, or walking stick, more for defense purposes than a crutch for walking.
It's this walking stick he uses to point out the other man's hands.]
You should be more careful with your acids, they'll take your fingertips right off. [A few chemical stains visible only to those who are looking for them.]
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( brilliant, isn't it? being summoned out of someone else's mind palace for a while? )
1/2
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[ no. no it's terrible, get back where you belong - buried deep. ]
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You weren't getting bored? I must admit, I was.
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which means it's time to start dancing... metaphorically.
actual dancing comes with alcohol. ]
Bored? I was past that within seconds. No, I'd moved onto something more... [ destructive ] constructive.
[ which essentially means he spent his entire time hidden away in his mind palace, playing through different scenarios, repeating old memories and scratching out the ones he doesn't need any more. being efficient. ]
But you already knew that.
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( ok, yes, she'd seen everything. she wasn't quite impressed - much like mycroft and john were not impressed. then again, she wasn't necessarily surprised, either.
how many times had she replayed her loss? how many times? enough that she barely had to think to conjure up the look on his face when he did beat her. )
You're better off, out and about.
not late at all idk what you're talking about
[ They're never impressed, are they? But they, they don't have to cope with Sherlock's head. So it's all swings and roundabouts as far as he's concerned - until someone knows what it's like to have a brain that's constantly fighting him at every step of the way, then there's really no way to know how one would cope with it. ]
It would seem as though I don't have much of a choice regardless.
[ Because here he is, new icons and all. This is a terrible idea. Even he knows that. ]
You saw, then.
dittooo
( and she has to say, your sub conscious is increasingly more interesting. there were so many things she wanted to ask .. and yet it felt wrong to just bring it up? )
Where would you like to start? My personal preference is with the overdose, moving to the locket that you carry of my portrait.
chinhands
Yet another layer, so effortlessly stripped away.
He's going to start running out. ]
You weren't strictly in the narrative; you didn't even have Victorian garb. I wouldn't take that as a sign of anything if I were you. No need to get too over-enthused.
[ It's just a physical representation of their time together. That he just so happens to carry everywhere??? ]
As far as the overdose goes - well, it was fun while it lasted, wasn't it?
[ The answer is yes. It's always yes... until it isn't. Until it's withdrawal and that... well, that part he could do without, admittedly. ]
no u
after all, he could tell other people's thoughts and actions before they even opened their mouths. )
Is that your story then? 'Not strictly in the narrative'?
( tsk, tsk. do be more original. )
I do wonder where you keep all that. Surely not in your pocket.
( that was a great deal of drugs to have taken in such a sort period of time, sherlock. )
You didn't seem like you were having fun.
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