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: (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)
promnibusanctis: (awake before i'm down)

[personal profile] promnibusanctis 2017-05-21 03:34 pm (UTC)(link)
His hand around hers gave her focus, kept her in the now because it was so very easy to fall into that yawning chasm that would begin any moment she gave in to James's connection to Sherlock Holmes in her own world. She was afraid of it, not because of the pieces of James she saw in him, nor those bits of Nikola that were there as well, not because of any of that.

She was afraid because, in his own world, Sherlock was himself. Wholly and without question, alive. Who was she to tell him that in her universe, the man she had loved, her dearest friend, was the basis for their own Sherlock Holmes? There were differences, of course, the fact that the Sherlock she sat with now was not and never had been from the Victorian age but he was still Sherlock. And sometimes, her heart ached more than a little when they spoke.

Her head fell companionably against his shoulder while she sorted herself out. Wise? Helen smiled and almost told him to take that back. She was too frightened of losing people to be wise, even if she kept lurching on into infinity like this. Her fingers pressed back and she could feel them creak under the strain until she consciously relaxed them.

"You are, too," she reminded him in a slightly strained voice, "and I find myself in your friend's debt as well." Her eyebrows arched and she let out a soft laugh. "Will wouldn't call himself that, either, but I asked him to be." Helen's voice was wry at best. "The value of our closest friends is that they do make us want to be better people even when we believe we are anything but deserving of it."

Edited 2017-05-21 15:51 (UTC)
promnibusanctis: (oob: i'm calling)

[personal profile] promnibusanctis 2017-05-22 06:04 am (UTC)(link)
"In practice," Helen said, letting a breath out, "I find another protege, another team, I keep the world safe from itself, I occupy myself in the manner I am best at doing. But one day, I will cease, I must. Everything dies and I should be one of those things. The Sanctuary Network, the fragile peace we keep will remain, trusted to those who come after me. I am sure Nikola will be ill-equipped to deal with that when it comes. I suppose I shall have to deal with that in time as well. He is the last of us besides myself, now, and when I am gone--"

She sagged a little.

"I will have a long time," she said, her voice suddenly weighed and weary, "to think about that. A very long time and a great many pots of tea. I wonder if he will let go when it is time but too, I wonder if I will."
promnibusanctis: (oob: i'm falling down)

[personal profile] promnibusanctis 2017-05-22 08:28 am (UTC)(link)
"Shall I stay then," she murmured, "until time immemorial, an ageless guardian until the human race itself passes on, further that perhaps? I suppose that gets a bit maudlin if I keep going down that route." Helen gave his hand a gentle squeeze as if to tell him to pay her no mind.

"I'm sure I will stay as long as possible, Sherlock. Even now, I find myself curious about the future and where Humanity itself, not to mention Abnormals, will go. I suppose, in my case, our dear friend said it best. Aequam memento rebus in arduis servare mentem." Remember when life’s path is steep to keep your mind even. Horace did have a point. And this path would be incredibly steep. Keeping herself even, well, that would be a challenge.

"I suppose I have been down stranger paths," she said wryly. "And I have been at many a precipice at so many points in my life that I cannot see much of an alternative than to keep time's beat."
Edited 2017-05-22 08:49 (UTC)
promnibusanctis: (shadow-iconsLJ5)

[personal profile] promnibusanctis 2017-05-22 10:34 am (UTC)(link)
"Once more into the breach, dear friends," Helen quoted with a soft laugh. What was life but a struggle to survive each and every new day? "If you, my dear Sherlock, were in my shoes, I dare say you'd drive the whole of England mad with your adventures. Much as you do now, I suppose?" She turned her head with a slight quirk of her eyebrow.

Her fingers were careful against the curve of his hand, her thumb an absent brush against his knuckle as if she was still attempting to keep herself present. Or him. Or perhaps the both of them. It was a strange thing being so close to the past and yet still in an ever distant present.

"I can't say I see you in any hurry to retire to some country estate with your books and academia," she murmured. "Nor will I, for that matter." Her eyes lit with a soft but contained excitement. "I only wish I could show you my own world. I should think it would be quite the wonder to you, especially Hollow Earth."
promnibusanctis: (really nikola no)

[personal profile] promnibusanctis 2017-05-22 03:17 pm (UTC)(link)
"Hollow Earth is filled with some of the most incredible Abnormals I have ever seen divergent offshoots of so many of the surface dwelling Abnormals that it's incredibly difficult to catalogue all of them. Massive fields of mushrooms with curative properties that we have yet to puzzle out. But really, it's the civilisation that's been built that's of interest. Imagine a world where there was no dark age, where progress continued unhindered while the surface floundered. There is a whole ecosystem down there rife for exploration, new species that could very well change the face of modern medicine as we know it. For Science itself, the benefit would be immeasurable," Helen said and her words carried her excitement.

"It took me one hundred and thirteen years to aid the construction of facilities worldwide, to provide a place of safety for all Abnormal life, to direct funding and support of a facility that combined the technology of the Praxian civilisation that inhabited Hollow Earth in a capacity much like my own to that of the modern era above. Building these ports of safety, these new Hollow Earth Sanctuaries, is quite possibly the best thing to have come out of my life."

She smiled at the Shakespeare and her laugh was a silent one.

"I cannot think of you as old," she said, her cheek pressing a little against his shoulder. Her voice felt as if it came from far away, from some other Helen. "It seems almost a ridiculous notion and yet--"

It made her feel ill in spirit thinking about it, that Sherlock Holmes himself would, too, age into an elderly man. It brought back immediate and painful images of James in his last moments. It still took her breath away and made her falter like a blow to her solar plexus. His was an absence she would grieve for the rest of her life and she thought of him more than she didn't.

"That is not now," she finished. "And you have a good many years ahead of you, I should hope."
promnibusanctis: (Default)

[personal profile] promnibusanctis 2017-05-23 11:07 pm (UTC)(link)
"Who knows," she said with a soft smile, "we're in a magic carnival. There are all sorts of possibilities." Helen was quiet for a long while, her touch and the way she'd leant against him almost conversation enough.

"Always hope," she finally murmured.

Always hope until the bitter end and fight and fight and fight.
promnibusanctis: (foralleternity8)

[personal profile] promnibusanctis 2017-05-24 01:21 pm (UTC)(link)
"I generally do and often," Helen said quietly and then laughed just as quietly. "It's not so much your world that's the interesting part. It's how you relate to it, how you solve crimes and cases the way you do. I would be fascinated by you and by those who come into and out of your life in any world."

She closed her eyes.

"Just the one?" she asked softly. "That's a shame."