Homeless

[verypatientwoman]

Dear Miss Mundane,

while I am quite grateful for the free lodgings you have granted me, and am indeed rather flattered by your interest in my person, I would, if I may, like to make a modest request.

So far, your expression of my character has been fairly volatile. It is true that I prefer practicality over following any flighty fancy; such a mindset, however, does not necessarily lend the person possessing it to violent acts of the kind you have attributed me with. I am also beginning to feel somewhat distressed about the cynicism inherent in the way you seem to assume myself to perceive my marriage. John is a good, honest man; thinking of our union with that level of worldly misanthropy would border on disrespect.

With hope for continued and improved cooperation I remain respectfully yours,

Mary Watson

((ooc: non-graphic mention of rape in comment narrative.))

Comments

[givememymoney]

These types seem to like to take things to extremes for the sake of drama. If I listened to mine one would think I had no moral code whatsoever. [And that's just ridiculous. As if.]

I'm sure you'll talk her around into being reasonable.

[verypatientwoman]

I'm afraid I am not certain I will be able to make her see reason. The things she had me do were just--well. I do not think I'm a person likely to cross the line to illegality, but if I did, I would like to think it improbable I would do it to the degree she had me do it. It was fairly--extreme.

[Lineface. She doesn't usually consider herself a person likely to shoot someone in the face from close range.]

[givememymoney]

Illegality? Did she pressure you into something? [Concernface. He has some familiarity with being pressed into extreme circumstances. He doesn't make a habit of beating men to death. Or raping them but shh not talking about that.]

[verypatientwoman]

Not--precisely. [It was her own choice, made out of motivations Mary can relate to. She finds it disconcerting, though, that her writer considers it possible that Mary would actually make these choices in circumstances that are not purely hypothetical.]

[ofquestionablememory]

My writer had heard about that, yes. Of course, I could not speak as to your character, but it did seem rather a... dark view of things.

[And because she is polite, she won't mention what her dear writer thinks she ought to get up to with Mary.]

I don't believe we've officially met; Irene Adler.

[verypatientwoman]

[Irene doesn't have to. Considering Mary's writer shares those opinions. Mary has no intention of talking about that.]

Rather dark, indeed. [Inclining her head politely.] My pleasure, Miss Adler. Mary Watson, as I'm sure you're aware.

[ofquestionablememory]

[Not that Irene would object, per se, but there is something entirely absurd about using the term Travelling Sapphist as if it were a career choice.]

Indeed; the woman who snared the good doctor. My congratulations.

[And Irene will be subtly eyeing Mary up and down, genuinely curious about precisely what kind of woman that is; she's heard much about her from variously biased sources.]

[verypatientwoman]

[Eyebrow. You're a woman, so she can allow herself to be slightly less Victorian and polite than usually. Also, she's heard about you, and possibly has a certain level of curiosity of her own.]

Snared, is it?

[ofquestionablememory]

[A little smile-- whoops, says that smile.]

Just a turn of phrase; I meant no offence. I'm sure there was no snaring involved from either of you; nothing so indelicate.

[verypatientwoman]

Or, indeed, violent. [Considering she just wrote a long letter about wanting to be portrayed as less violent. She's also possibly bringing up violence since the few little things Watson has mentioned about you indicated that you might not be entirely unfamiliar with an occasionally violent lifestyle.]

[ofquestionablememory]

Of course not. You've spoken eloquently on the subject in regards to yourself, and it has been my experience that Dr. Watson generally restricts such things for people who are deserving of it.

[Occasionally. It's a hazard of the profession. She prefers to avoid letting things get to the stage where violence becomes a necessity, but of late it has, more often than not, and she is capable of dealing with that.]

[verypatientwoman]

Indeed. Although he, at times, feels that his portrayal too leans very much much towards a rather physical interpretation.

[Folding her hands before herself and giving you a blankly polite, curious look. Never mind her, she's just a woman asking perfectly innocent questions.]

What about yourself? Do you feel your writer interpreting too much physicality into your character? [Violent physicality. Or other physicality. She's purposefully not specifying.]

[ofquestionablememory]

[Ah, yes, the much vaunted Watson temper. She's not seen much of it herself, outside of meta, but as they are in meta, she allows a faint smile. The innocent blankness she meets with an equally charming expression, one that says, ever so politely, that she sees the ambiguity in that question and thinks it's cute. You Brits and your doublespeak.]

No, I do believe in that regard she seems to have quite the right idea.

[Both in regards to violent or other physicality.]

If I have any small complaint-- though I would of course hate to be churlish-- it would be that she has little idea of my history before I found myself entered into my current occupation. My girlhood seems to elude her.

[verypatientwoman]

[It's not doublespeak. It's called being polite. But then, what with you being from New Jersey, Mary's not surprised you're having difficulties with politeness. Don't worry, she's not holding it against you. In fact, she thinks it's sort of adorable.]

[The physicality statement just gets an eyebrow raise. Indeed. Everything as it should be, yes? Glad to hear that.]

Ah, yes. [This second statement she can genuinely sympathize with.] My writer does not seem inclined, either, to decide on specifics as far as my childhood is concerned. Possibly because she seems to feel that little of note and consequence could have happened in the first decade of my life.

[ofquestionablememory]

[Difficulties being polite? Nonsense, Mrs. Watson; Irene is a far more continental creature than you are, whatever her roots. She's quite capable of being absolutely the most decorous of ladies.]

[Everything quite as it should be, indeed. Though a curious choice of question for Mary.]

I believe mine is having some difficulty determining how precisely one would bridge the gap between a childhood on the east coast of America and my... current occupation. But I have no doubt we shall work it out in time, with cooperation.

[captjacksparrow]

[ Have a random pirate, Mary. A pirate on drugs. A pirate impersonating a certain acquaintance of his who used to be a Time Lord. There's lots of slurring and arm waving involved. Also, watch out for those hips. They move unexpectedly. ]

Worldly misan-misan-—hating the world?

[ Really, truly: he's NOT sober. ]

Doesn't seem like a good way to go about.

[verypatientwoman]

[You. Are not sober. She will eye you, and hold herself very stiffly.]

I would agree. [Eying you up and down. She's . . . not sure what kind of greeting would be appropriate, since everything about you is just entirely inappropriate. After a couple of seconds she decides she will just wait. You're the man, she's the woman; it's your job to introduce yourself first.]

[captjacksparrow]

[ Is he suppose to introduce himself? The Doctor would probably introduce himself. Smile excitably. Well, Jack can do that.

Can you see all his teeth yet? Does he look friendly and eager to meet you? His cheek hurts. ]

But you're still thinking of going about it that way? [ Just because you agree misanthropy is bad doesn't mean you're planning on changing your ways. ]

[verypatientwoman]

[You're creepy. And drunk. And asking intrusive questions. She's going to clutch her hands together tightly and tilt her head.]

I believe my letter implied otherwise.

[captjacksparrow]

Implied... [ Erm. What did it imply? Implied...something. Something. His left eyelid is drooping. It's distracting. ] it were a thought of yours.

[ See this personal conversation thing? Yeah; he's awesome at it. He is amazing. He can totally be the Doctor. ]

John your, er, John?

[ That's a joke. John being another word for bloke or man. The sudden lurching-swaying into Mary's personal space gives it away. With finger pointing. Adament finger pointing. He's so clever. ]

He a boyfriend? [ Leering. Kind of.

Boyfriend! He knows that word. Isn't it marvellous that he knows that word? This future-thing, he's good at it. Totally a time travelling expert. ]

[dreamtofbeing]

[While Mary takes a quick, startled step backwards to evade the pirate lurch-swaying her way, a tall, skinny man enters this awkward multiversal scene. He gives Mary an apologetic smile-- ]

Don't worry, he's harmless.

[ --and takes Jack by the arm to pull him back and away.]

Jack, what are you doing? Leave the lady alone.

[captjacksparrow]

Doctor! [ That smile before? Has nothing on this one now. It encapsulates all the absurd delight in the world. There should be hugs. Happy, groping hugs with Jack's arms draped around the Doctor's shoulders. It doesn't matter that the Doctor is taller than him. Slouch. ]

[dreamtofbeing]

Yes, Jack. It's me. Hello. [Hug. Okay, hug is okay. He's going to smile. It's genuine at first, and then turns a little awkward as a hundred and forty pounds of dead pirate weight drape around his neck. The Doctor is going to sniff. Are you drunk? Or, rather, how drunk are you?]

[Mary, in the meantime, will leave. Hugging, drunk men asking intrusive questions, no thank you. She's off.]

[captjacksparrow]

It is you! [ It is! Have they established that? They should establish that. ] M'being you, mate. M'...you.

[ He is. He's trying to be. It's difficult to explain. It's difficult to stand. Possibly. Maybe. He'll hang onto the Doctor's shoulders. ]

[dreamtofbeing]

M-hm. [Whatever, Jack. He's not trying to make sense of what you're saying. He is, though, slightly worried. You smell of rum, you always do, but right now not badly enough to justify your state.]

You're a bit intoxicated, aren't you? Do you know why?

[Also, this way. Come on. This way, to the next convenient multiverse exit.]

[thedominatrix]

[Irene- a different Irene- raises her eyebrows, her voice cool but light.]

Don't fret over doing what you have to do.

[verypatientwoman]

[Headtilt. A random person giving her advice? She will deal with it the Victorian way, polite and inscrutable.]

Oh? And what is that?

[thedominatrix]

[It's quite hard to know what to make of Mary- which for Irene is terribly unusual, and therefore interesting.]

Depends on circumstance.

By John- John Watson, I assume, from your surname- do you mean Sherlock Holmes'... [Irene, if you say 'boyfriend' here you are going straight to hell, do not pass go, do not collect £200] ...friend?

[verypatientwoman]

[Mary doesn't know she's dealing with another version of the somewhat infamous Irene Adler, but she's decent at reading people, and the vibes she is picking up from the woman talking to her don't necessarily make her want to trust her. Hence, Victorian politeness.]

Doctor John Watson is my husband, as well as a close acquaintance of Sherlock Holmes. You know Mr Holmes, then?

[thedominatrix]

[Which makes Mary a very clever woman. Irene can tell she doesn't trust her: it's a favourable sign.]

I do. Dr Watson as well.

[Have a very thoughtful look, Mary, as Irene purses her lips and considers the universe.]

But we're thinking of slightly different people. The Dr Watson I know isn't married.

[Or Victorian.]