thevictoriandetective: (Default)
William Sherlock Scott Holmes ([personal profile] thevictoriandetective) wrote in [community profile] lostcarnival2017-05-15 10:43 am

In a new light

Who: Sherlock and OPEN
What: New changes and video game munchies
When: Very late Day 97
Where: Cookhouse
Warnings: Mentions of drugs, suicide.



Dying made one hungry.

Sherlock was prone to being over dramatic, and would gladly tell anyone who inquired that yes, he was killed three times in the game and yes, for a second there he really thought he was going to end up nullified or actually dead. Being quite pleased that he wasn't a digital slug or dead, he found himself famished and in the mood for something dreadfully unhealthy and/or sweet.

Toby was exhausted and fell asleep back at the trailer (or was mad at him for thinking he really did die), so Sherlock was alone when he went to the Cookhouse.

He went to grab a basket of chips (fries) and a milkshake when it hit him. He'd noticed something strange with his vision when he came back, seeing faint blotches like if he'd looked in the sun for too long or something, but he assumed it had something to do with being in the game, some lingering side effect. He would only be worried if it remained for any length of time. What he didn't expect was a blast of orange and red when he looked into the kitchen.

He shut his eyes immediately, confused, and was shocked that he could still see it. He could see shapes of people, registering as different shades of red and orange, fading to yellow and green. The walls only mitigated some of it, he could see through them, too. It extended nearly as far as his natural vision, but faded into blank nothingness further on. It was heat. Obviously. He couldn't exactly see objects that didn't give off heat. But any heat residue left, was visible, like quickly fading handprints.

"Fascinating," he muttered, opening his eyes again. The effect was fainter coupled with his ordinary vision, giving a slight glow to anything that gave off heat. It was disorienting and off-putting and, quite frankly, neat.
promnibusanctis: (foralleternity8)

[personal profile] promnibusanctis 2017-05-18 09:59 am (UTC)(link)
"Lonely. Intensely, incredibly lonely." Helen pauses for a long while as if looking back through Sherlock to the woman she had been as she shakes her head. "I manage, with help and without as the years pass. The advent of modern technology, as a scientist, was thrilling, inspiring. The world wars were horrifying, dangerous times, so much suffering. It was absolutely fascinating to watch the aviation industry from its infancy to the space race. How could it not be? So much progress in such a small amount of time, comparatively speaking."

She refocuses with the last question and can see his mind churn with so many questions his questions had questions about his questions, which lead to more questions until it became a flood of infinite questions and-- Helen takes a breath and cups his face between her hands as gently as possible.

"Hush, you're thinking too loud," she says, her blue eyes amused, "slow it down. Just because I can keep up with you doesn't mean its a race to the end of the universe. Hm? I'm not running anywhere."
Edited 2017-05-18 10:01 (UTC)
promnibusanctis: (fontcroire14)

[personal profile] promnibusanctis 2017-05-18 11:33 am (UTC)(link)
"I know," she said with an odd sort of smile. "It's in the way you jump from question to question until it's a tangle no one should be able to sort out, not one among the room but you. So, you talk to yourself and forget them because you know they can't see it the way you can."

Helen blinked at the intensity of it for a moment and pulled away but not away. She gestured lightly.

"I'd say this is a multiple cup conversation. Tea?"

Her smile wavered a little but she smiled nonetheless.

"Shall I call you Mr Holmes or Sherlock?"
Edited 2017-05-18 12:48 (UTC)
promnibusanctis: (ready for anything)

[personal profile] promnibusanctis 2017-05-18 01:58 pm (UTC)(link)
Helen took a mock bow for her minor mental feat but she could tell it was appreciated. Will would keep up with him as well, perhaps in a different manner. His ability to see the hidden in what might seem an ordinary world littered with red flags was extraordinary.

Sherlock it was.

She was bringing him tea after the milkshake, to warm him back up, and more for herself. Helen did the honours and brought cream and sugar out of habit before fixing her own cup.

"How is your vision, now?" she asked.
promnibusanctis: (hallonpagacomet-appearssanctuary2)

[personal profile] promnibusanctis 2017-05-19 07:46 am (UTC)(link)
"It's normalising then, for the most part," Helen surmised, mostly to keep a list in her mind, herself. "With infrared, it would, with it trailing off in cooler tones the further away from the heat it gets."

She settled at his elbow as she had before and leant back in her chair to enjoy her tea properly, without hurry or care, as if nothing outside their conversation really mattered at all. Helen took a breath and then smiled after a moment or two of contemplation.

"It sounds beautiful, Sherlock, but I find that most odd things are."
promnibusanctis: (nikola pls)

[personal profile] promnibusanctis 2017-05-19 08:58 am (UTC)(link)
"Don't be," Helen said as if there was nothing out of the ordinary about the fact that he'd just snatched sugar cubes out of the air with his, ah, the chameleon incident, that's where the tongue had come from. She half hid her smile in a sip of tea and then let out the tiniest half-laugh, almost a giggle.

"We mustn't waste the sugar cubes, after all."
promnibusanctis: (joy)

[personal profile] promnibusanctis 2017-05-19 09:29 am (UTC)(link)
"Sugar cubes," Helen said while trying not to laugh anymore and really not succeeding, "are inanimate," she set down her tea lest she spill, "...let's hope they don't grow wings and prove us wrong."
promnibusanctis: (seriously_emacomet-appears10)

[personal profile] promnibusanctis 2017-05-19 11:18 am (UTC)(link)
"If I ever need your tongue, I'll let you know. Especially if I see any winged sugar cubes," Helen said with a grin. He definitely a sweet tooth and that was something she'd remember.

"Ah, Sherlock," she added, "I did manage to find some Royal British Breakfast. It's back at my trailer if you can't wait, but yes, I agree completely. Tea should be acquired at any stop, really, and in sizable quantities."
promnibusanctis: (Default)

[personal profile] promnibusanctis 2017-05-19 01:39 pm (UTC)(link)
"There's no such thing as ridiculously nostalgic," she said after a very, very long pause. "I should think I'm the expert on that one." Helen's eyes and the slight shift in her expression, the way her cup came up, and perhaps the slight tightening of her fingers around the cup said that sometimes, possibly too often, there was something beyond that.

"Not when you can remember the sights and sounds and tastes of things you haven't had for years already. In the end, it's not the tea that really matters," Helen said and if a voice could be bittersweet, hers was, "it is who you're sitting with."

Her sip of tea was a little longer this time but still not hurried.

"I'll make a pot as we've two wholly different Londons to discuss."
promnibusanctis: (hallonpagacomet-appearssanctuary009)

[personal profile] promnibusanctis 2017-05-20 07:50 am (UTC)(link)
"Everyone misses home," Helen said quietly, "and the people they have become attached to in their lives, no matter how long it has been. They are as much a part of who you as your founding experiences, after all. Without them, I find that life itself has an entirely different melody. I miss them all in their many absences."

Perhaps she should have made another pot. She shook her head a little at how quickly time could pass. All those proteges, all of her friends, the people who had come and gone in her life, so many of them. But enough of that, Sherlock had a question.

"I have been to London on and off throughout the years but not as recently as I now wish I had. I am not entirely sure when I'll get back there as events have rather pushed me in a new direction," she said, her tone thoughtful.
promnibusanctis: (secrex-x-garden1)

[personal profile] promnibusanctis 2017-05-20 04:08 pm (UTC)(link)
"I have found that I must make friends," Helen said in a soft voice, "that I must continue to be social, to reach out because if I don't, Sherlock, if I isolate myself from the world, I may become cold and unfeeling, out of touch with humanity. I have buried so many but each of has given me something vital in my life, something no one but they could have given me."

She smiles and it is with no small touch of sorrow.

"I am richer and fuller for what they have given me be it knowledge or their compassion, their drive. My friends, some my lovers, some I have yet to lay to rest in the proper way, and some I have yet to begin to mourn. But they matter, each and every one of them and I would not be myself without them in my life."

Her fingers around her cup tightened slightly as she took a breath and set the cup down.

"It is difficult," she said, "to have a great deal of emotion and to have to put that away when you must. Taking it out again is as equally difficult but you must because without it, you deny yourself a critical element of life and of living."
promnibusanctis: (sciency)

[personal profile] promnibusanctis 2017-05-21 08:10 am (UTC)(link)
"No, Sherlock, I'm not," Helen said with a soft sigh. "I took so many steps back when my daughter died and every day I wear a path between what I must be and what I have been. I have seen and felt what I could be if I let myself shut everyone away. I don't think that's bravery, it's just--"

Her hand found his carefully, almost delicately, still warm from the tea as she cut herself off. What was it? Experience? Did it matter? In many ways, she was very much like Sherlock herself, like James and Nikola, too. But her compassion won in the end, only sometimes, she needed help.

"Have you met Will Zimmerman?" she asked quietly.
promnibusanctis: (oob: the world hurts)

[personal profile] promnibusanctis 2017-05-21 11:43 am (UTC)(link)
There was a long, long pause, one where she had to close her eyes. Helen could have said the same about Ashley and had many times, reliving thousands of permutations of the timeline if she had done this, what about that, should she have, until she realised that it was over and she could change nothing. Her eyes opened with a half laugh that was no laugh at all.

"Ashley died for me," Helen said in the softest voice. "I watched her make that choice, I watched her break the conditioning the Cabal had given her, Sherlock, knowing I sent her there and that what she became was my fault. In the end, in that moment, she saved my life. Ashley chose her end but I couldn't accept it, not really. I tortured myself for weeks checking our systems, trying to find her, hoping she was out there somewhere, still alive. And in the end, I buried an empty coffin with the knowledge that if I had just said no--"

Helen shook her head.

"Your friend loved you," she said, her voice almost a whisper, "and my daughter loved me. We grieve and maybe we don't let go of it, Sherlock, but we must live for them because that's what they've asked us to do. So, maybe that means we have to be brave even if we take five steps back for every one forward."

Helen doesn't notice thew few scattered tears or if she does, she pretends they aren't there. It's a long while after that she find words, a long while to reorient herself.

"He's here," she said, "and he is my moral compass. He's why I'm still here. You have John and I have Will. They keep us human, they keep us moving toward the future whatever that may be."
Edited 2017-05-21 11:57 (UTC)

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