lostcarnival | [OPEN] Sher-meleon

Entry tags:

[OPEN] Sher-meleon

Who: Sherlock and you!
What: In which Sherlock gets turned into a chameleon for running away.
Where: Here and there
When: D33-D39

A. I'm not anyone's pet! (Sherlock's and Gon's Trailer)

There was a very colorful, small lizard sitting angrily on top of a table in the trailer. How could a chameleon be sitting angrily?

Yet somehow, it was.

Sherlock was not happy, and that was putting it lightly.

It had taken him an age to even get over here. Slow, methodical climbing and steps. For a man as impatient as he, it was nothing less than sheer agony. Not to mention the horror he was slowly trying to and failing to get over. He tried to run away from the Carnival, yes, but this-this in return for...this was impossible, improbable, and yet it happened. He wasn't even the least bit human save for his mind. And even that was filled with weird instincts.

He was a lizard. He thought he was upset before about his scales but this was a million, billion times worse. He was just this small little thing with weird eyes and a weird tail and--oh no.

Before he could stop himself his tongue shot out and snatched a fly out of midair. It crunched in his mouth a millisecond later. Worst of all, it tasted great to him.

AAAAAAARGHHHHHHHHH--

B. Lunchtime

There was a small greenish, red, and yellow chameleon slowly changing colors and sitting on top of a ladle next to the food for everyone.

Just staring, occasionally looking with one independent eye, then another. Every so often his tongue would shoot out and grab a fly.

He really liked flies okay?

C. I'm a man, blast it!

It was painstaking, but he did it. It literally took him several hours and a nap. But he did it. A pen in his mouth and a piece of paper. He began dragging the paper through the Carnival, wishing to show it to anyone who met him.

The note said:

I am Sherlock Holmes. I am not an ordinary chameleon. Please help.

PS. Do not pet me. I will bite.

D. Wildcard! Feel free to start any situation!

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The lizard opened his jaws and let go, huffily dropping back to the ground. Yeah right.

...hallucination? He focused on the man...blast, this was so difficult when you were inches off the ground, trying to focus on something which was basically the size of a building, with senses that didn't really care to focus on such things, and would much rather go for a nice tasty grasshopper. Still, hallucination-man was a bit worrying.

Then again, he really was tired of being slow. Not like there was much worse trouble he could get into at this point.

Sherlock slowly climbed onto his hand, his weird little sideways claws trying to hold onto fingers like they were branches.

Wonderful! Now he had a lizard in his hands.

...so now what?

Strange is slowly realizing that he has absolutely no idea with this little guy. The sign said 'please help' but he had no idea what to help with. And, even if he knew how the lizard needed help, he had no idea if his magic could help in the first place. So he stares at Sherlock the lizard for a moment, thinking.

"Alright. I have an idea. I wish to help but the problem is, I do not speak lizard and you've given no indication you speak English. However, you might understand English. I will ask you yes or no questions. You poke my palm once for yes, twice for no. Do you understand?"

Finally, someone with some sense. Honestly, was it that hard to figure out?

The chameleon nodded, and poked his palm with one of his funny-shaped clawed hands.

Yes.

Ironically, it's the person who drove himself mad who has the most sense dealing with this situation.

But wonderful. That seemed to work! Who'd have thought it? Strange grinned a manic grin, positively delightful at this rudimentary communication. Triumphant tone in his voice, he continued. "You somehow understand English...were you previously not a lizard?"

Another single tap.

Yes

Sherlock was delighted he was finally getting somewhere. Not being able to talk. Especially since he was such a motor mouth anyway. His was pretty much torture for him. Stuck in an slow tiny body, effectively unable to communicate.

Strange is just downright happy at twenty questions with a lizard. Granted, he has no idea if he'll be able to fix what the problem is in the first place, but who cares! They're getting somewhere!

"Before you were a lizard, did you work at the Carnival?"

Yes.

This was such a relief. Clunky and awkward, but not being able to communicate was infuriating. He curled his tail towards Strange's wrist to anchor himself.

"How on Earth did you find yourself turned into a lizard?"

Strange seems to have forgotten the fact that no, that isn't a yes or no question as he looks over at Sherlock, expecting an answer.

Really? He gives the other man a long, dry look, and held his little hands up. He wasn't sure exactly as he had a difficult time seeing where he was when he was this small, but he waved a claw towards what he could only assume was the direction of the Ringmaster's tent.

Well there's no answer, is he doing that because...oh. Wait. Come on Strange, don't be an idiot, how is that a yes or no question to begin with.

"Did someone magically turn you into a lizard?"

He tapped his claw against his palm again once.

Yes.

He waved his claws back towards the Ringmaster's tent again, rolling his eyes, hoping this fellow would get the hint.

Strange looked towards the Ringmaster's tent...then back to the lizard...ah. The pieces clicked into place.

"Did the Ringmaster turn you into a lizard?"

It's certainly something she could do. The main question now is 'why.'

Another tap. Big ole yes.

He looked beesichingly up at the other man with the most puppy dog-look he could muster. Which was not very much of one, considering he was a big-eyed, slightly creepy looking lizard.

Woe is me...

Strange frowns, peering at the lizard. He honestly didn't know the Ringmaster could do something like that. Transfiguration was...interesting. He turned a woman into a cat once. But that was easy, that was her heart's desire, he could twist and change and manipulate that magic easily. With this situation...it was different.

"I can try to turn you back to your normal self. I am a magician, after all. However, I don't know how effective it will be. Do you want me to try?"

Spoiler alert, Sherlock: it's not gonna work.

He knows that it's probably not going to work, but he wants to try. Just in case.

Snippets of fairy tales that he hadn't completely deleted from his childhood warned him that probably this won't end well, but he ignored the warnings.

He tapped out yes.

Gingerly, Strange sets Sherlock down on the ground. After all, he's going to need his hands for this. Besides, if this does work, he doesn't want to be suddenly holding a fully grown man.

He places his hands out, pointing them at Sherlock, palms out. Closing his eyes, he starts to mutter something under his breath...but then nothing happens. Strange opens one eye, frowns at the lizard, then closes his eye and continues to mutter again, obviously annoyed.

Yeah. It's not working.

Sherlock's excited.

He's finally going to get back to his normal body and stop eating flies and actually get on with his life. What luck! What an outstanding fellow--

--well, maybe it would take a bit. Powerful magic--

--he couldn't believe he had the words powerful magic in his vocabulary--

--annnnnd still nothing was happening!?

There's a pause. Strange obviously expected something to happen from the confused look on his face. Confusion turns into annoyance as he starts muttering again, palms facing Sherlock, hoping that this would work...

and nope. Nothing happened.

Letting out a noise of aggravation, Strange just sat down on the ground, so that it'd be easier to look at Sherlock. "I know the spell. I turned a woman into a cat once, I'm certain I could turn a lizard human. It's just not working."

Surprise, the Ringmaster's better at magic than he is.

All that hope for nothing.

Sherlock was quite cross. He huffed and turned a mix of red and black, clearly disappointed and quite petulant about it.

It just wasn't fair.

"There, there," Strange says as he...pauses slightly, but then attempts to give Sherlock some well-meaning pats. "I'm sure that this will wear off soon. She can't keep you a lizard forever."

After all, he'd be a rubbish worker that way.

The well-meaning pats only served to make him more cross and sullen. Can chameleons glare? He just did.

Yeah right, knowing his luck, she'd probably do something like turn him into a lizard every other day and make him work the other or some such fairy-tale like terribleness.

"I don't suppose there's much of a bright side you can look on now," Strange simply muses, as he looks down at the lizard. After all, he's small, slow, and easily able to be stepped on.

"I still don't understand why my magic was unable to work! Obviously the Ringmaster's magic is powerful but surely it cannot be that powerful."

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[OPEN] Sher-meleon

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