( sherlock ) contact post

[consulting]

[ CALL | TEXT | VIDEO | ACTION ]

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t e x t

[saluted]

It's been a long time, Mister Holmes.

Let's have dinner.

Re: t e x t

[consulting]

[ there's a brief pause, the temptation to ignore it. it's a text from irene after all. he's tempted. there's a brief flicker of sentiment, of curiosity. dinner. ]

[ he does however make her wait a couple of hours. ]

New land for you to conquer and you want to have dinner?

SH

[enarms]

[ it's been a couple of days since the blow off. honestly, Sherlock's the very last person he wants to be contacting right now - but he's been hearing things he doesn't like, and the silence can't very well last forever

he can only assume the man's still homeless, after all ]

Second rule: no plasmid use in the flat. No gene tonics. Nothing made of ADAM.

[consulting]

[ See, he's been waiting for this John. He's doing that thing he rarely does, he believes it's called smiling. But despite your inevitable blow off, he's rather happy you texted.

he is pretty much. sleeping on benches in poseidon's square and all. he kind of desperately needs a shower, but he refuses to deal with anyone else until john's agreed. so there's no heart felt message about how or why you rock, john. nope. ]

> ATTACHED FILE: artemis suite

[enarms]

[ bloody hell.

no, alright. alright. you've paved the first slab now, John, and he's paved the second. may as well keep building the path. ]

Fine. I want to take a look. There in thirty.

[consulting]

Alright, will be punctual.
Do you think they'll let me use their shower as part of the tour?

SH

[enarms]

If you stink enough, probably.

[consulting]

I think less than adequate is the better descriptor.
How was your chat with Irene?

SH

[ don't ask how the genius hasn't been able to find a shower in the middle of the ocean. ]

[enarms]

"Irene".
Not over the ezwave.

[ wouldn't dream of it!!! and just in case you need any further indication that john is Probably Not Okay with what he learned during aforementioned conversation THERE'S YOUR.... CLUE... ]

[consulting]

[ if sherlock was a less classy human being he'd actually yell FUCK YOU BOTH. He's been itching to know you have absolutely no idea. ]

"Irene". Later then.

SH

[enarms]

Later.

[ unfortunately for you, you chose to befriend the most emotionally stubborn man this side of Scotland A N D make an acquaintance of the most conniving woman this side of a n y w h e r e

these were your life choices Sherlock you live with them!!! in the meantime John's giving up on texting and just heading straight to Artemis Suites, see you there buddy ol' pal ]

[enarms]

I found you a pet to make up for the festering piles of brutalised humanity we never quite got the chance to adopt

[consulting]

Here I was looking forward to the automated corpse.

What are you suggesting?

SH

[enarms]

I'll show you when he's ready. Might have to be patient awhile.

[consulting]

You're unfortunate that I'm not the most patient man, expound?

SH

[enarms]

No. We're talking about a very shy mammal here, I have to ease him in.

[consulting]

Can't we get the decomposing heap of flesh as opposed to the shy mammal?
You know I find them dull.

SH

[enarms]

Again, no. They all rotted anyway.

[consulting]

To my disappointment.

SH

[enarms]

My heart bleeds for you

[consulting]

Take up poetry. I'm sure your readers will have a laugh.

SH

[enarms]

But Sherlock, (surname Holmes)
I'm a published poet
And you didn't even know it
Woe.

[consulting]

Don't you have a traumatic experience to attend to?

SH

[enarms]

But I'm already talking to you.

[ :') ]

[consulting]

*Texting.

SH

[enarms]

Communicating with. You know what I meant

[consulting]

The difference is worth noting.

SH

[enarms]

If you could learn how not to be a pedantic arse by the time my birthday comes around that would be a great present thanks.

[consulting]

A jumper is an easier gift to manage.

SH

[enarms]

A jumper works too.

[consulting]

You're a man of excellent priorities, Doctor Watson.

SH

[enarms]

Something with a bit of blue in it might be nice.

audio message

[enarms]

I've got his collar. If you want to take a look, you can have it for an hour. And then I'm going to burn it.

[ voicing this because it's important it's clear that there'll be absolutely no negotiation on this one hope you're hearing that loud and clear Sherlock he's serious ok ]

ACTION.......... MAYBE..........

[enarms]

[ for the past week, John's found himself increasingly frequently sat with his bum to the floor and his back to a wall and his eyes boring holes into the one opposite. he's never sure exactly how he got there, but by now they're up a couple of tea stains on the carpet that he's done his best to remove before any passing genius can spot them and start to dissect exactly how and why they got there - though he's never really been quick enough to clear them off completely, and the effort probably just makes the whole thing that much more suspicious.

he's spent a lot more time away from the flat this week than he usually would. it's - complicated. half of him wants to crowd around, to spend as much time in with them as he possibly can, to get under their feet until he's such a pain in the arse that they storm out or throw a fit or - he doesn't really know what, it doesn't tend to happen that way around. maybe he just wants to sit in the living space and be while they be. he doesn't - he doesn't know. whatever it is, half of him, more than half of him just wants to be there... but it doesn't matter, because it turns out ten minutes is his limit. ten minutes is the extent to which he can pretend to feel normal while actually still kidding himself. after that, everything starts to slide steadily to shit and John doesn't know what would happen if he ever let it really get there.

they're not dead yet. they have been, both, but not now and not yet. he doesn't know what he'd do if he broke things before their (all, all three, them, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson) time's even run out.

so he runs. he starts to feel the tug of a whirlwind of thoughts he still can't decipher or deal with and he gives it as many more minutes as it takes to untangle himself from a conversation or a stillness or an anything without it seeming too abrupt and he goes. needs a bath. left his EZWave in the bedroom. tired. just remembered he has to pop out. (popping out usually takes him anywhere from one hour to four and he's started doing it up to three times a day when he can't already use Going To Work as an excuse to be out from nine til five).

to date, he's managed to avoid a bumfloorbackwall fiasco any time any Sherlock's been too close at hand. this time when he comes around from the static blur of oh my God he's staring at the wall in the hallway with his EZWave fallen neatly at his side and his breath stutters with coming back, waking up (it must be black outs - safe to say it's probably closely related to the times he lets himself start thinking - but he hasn't ever been in the position to properly time them. he's always been hoping there wouldn't be a next one). John lets his head fall back against the wall as his face crumples to shut out the rest of the world, drags in a shaking breath and releases it on a sounded, tremoring sigh.

god damn this. god damn all of this.

his efforts are all focused on calming himself, steadying the slight shakes and unhelpfully shuddering breathing that had crept up uninvited. eyes closed and fists bunched against the carpet, John allows himself a moment to recognise, finally, that there's a very real chance this might have pushed him one step too far. ]

Re: ACTION.......... MAYBE..........

[consulting]

[ Sherlock remembers coming back from the fall from the first time. Remembers that jump, where his mood was too foul to do his usual check-ups. Where the breathing tube down his throat felt more scalding then usual. He remembers that urge to be alone, lock himself up in the labs and the science rooms until he was a ghost in the ship.

'I O U a fall' and Jim had collected his debts.

He remembers a conversation with Neal, after radio silence. The closest thing he'll get to a truth about the scenario.

( 'i died' - 'how' - 'roof' - 'try a better lie' - 'i can't'. )

The John from Atia got a more descriptive picture, further from the truth but a better view of the scenario. Sherlock's memories are bared out and viewable to everyone. Accessible and vulnerable. Sherlock hates it. Wishes there were some over ride. Delete. Delete. Delete. He hasn't spoken to John, not really. He figures one Sherlock is enough to explain everything and he'd rather let it be water under a bridge. He doubts that this is something John will let go of - however. Sherlock notices, picks up on the little signs of the pattern of bumfloorbackwall when he arrives in their living quarters.

( Sherlock's finding it strange. To have space. He's used to having half a room. The Tranquility was an endless maze, perhaps the size of a small city - but arching hallways are different from a proper city scape. )

Perhaps John's starting to realize that the orbital tangent of Sherlock Holmes' life revolves around Jim Moriarty. ]

You're under duress. [ he says from the door way, unraveling his scarf. ]

Re: ACTION.......... MAYBE..........

[enarms]

[ christ. christ christ christ god damn it.

John's all struggling limbs and a shaking head as Sherlock speaks before he had the time to process his presence and react accordingly, and for an odd transcendent half second he can almost see the pool at his front and feel the just-shed weight of a jacket primed to blow him to kingdom come at his back. but this isn't the same as then. the stagger's the same - but he's pushing up this time, not stumbling down, and the weight and culprit of his fall are different completely.

although perhaps maybe not. at the end of the day, the carpet's been pulled out from under his feet just the same. the pattern of the weave be damned.

pressed against the wall on unsteady legs, John drags a breath in. stills himself. takes a second to prepare the John that they're both more used to dealing with - it doesn't really matter if he spends some obvious time. Sherlock knows the lie already, he's seen the fall (or at least the aftermath), John's just offering the courtesy of putting them on more stable ground.

besides, as the John Watson without a care in the world, he doesn't need to have this conversation. as the John Watson without a care in the world, everything's just fine. as that John Watson: ]

What? [ the Johnsuit's dragged on. John winces, sucks in a loud breath through grit teeth, brings a hand up to his head. ] Jesus. I think I must've eaten something funny. I've been off all day.

[ running away isn't something he does lightly, but he's not (all that used to being scared) a big fan of self-destruction for self-destruction's sake, either.

we can still walk away. let's please. ]

ACTION/NOT HERE

[enarms]

[ you might find a small wrapped something waiting for you on the coffee table when you come home sometime, flatmate dear. there's a note: ]

Dropped the ball a bit, but you helped me find something perfect. Happy belated birthday.

[ contents: ]

[consulting]

[ yeah, okay he deserved that. so it's stuck on the ziplock of the severed foot in their shitty fridge, ]

(text anon) BECAUSE NOSTALGIA IM SORRY except only a little. not sure what i'm doing skdhjg

[longevities]

I'm trying to reach Sherlock Holmes.

Have I the correct number?