William Sherlock Scott Holmes (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thevictoriandetective) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
lostcarnival2017-01-11 12:55 pm
thevictoriandetective) wrote in lostcarnival2017-01-11 12:55 pm
Entry tags:
[Open] Aftermath
Who: Sherlock and you!
What: In which a slightly off-kilter Sherlock deals with the fallout of being turned into a chameleon including that tongue thing
Where: Cookhouse, because it's warm
When: Late night, D39ish-40 (up to right before the Agents arrive)
It was really lucky he wasn't in a small spot, say inside a cupboard or under the bunk when Sherlock transformed back to--well, not exactly normal...whoever and whatever he was before. At the very least, he was no longer a tiny lizard. Though the small cardboard box he'd holed up into in his trailer was now obliterated.
I'm back! Ha ha! He frantically patted himself down, just to be sure. No wacky tail or weird bug eyes. No more eating bugs--now that he was back to 'normal' the thought was uncomfortable, even if they did taste pretty great when he was a chameleon. No lasting side effects? He scrambled in and ran to the bathroom. He looked the same as before, right? Scales, whatever.
He was absolutely ecstatic. He could speak again, he could move quickly, oh, was it his birthday? No one ever realizes how much they miss things when they were gone. He was--he whirled around. Hungry. He was really famished. To the cookhouse!
Sherlock practically flew in, his coat flapping behind him and he looked slightly wild with unbridled frantic energy. Maybe being transformed amped his appetite, maybe that collection of roaches he'd snacked on now sitting in his stomach wasn't enough for a proper meal now he was much larger, how did the physics of being turned into something else even work!?--
He grabbed a tray and loaded up, and went to go sit down at a table.
That pudding looked excellent.
"It really issss a lovely--"
THWWAAAP--
Without warning, his tongue shot out towards the pudding on his plate, which naturally sent most of it flying in globs everywhere. SNAPPPP--it retracted like a lightning bolt, and he almost choked on the small amount of pudding he managed.
Oh no.
He grabbed a spoon after doing his best not to aspirate on pudding, and opened his mouth. This was not a welcome development! He stuck out his tongue slighty--
THWWAPP--stuck to the spoon.
"NMMYMMGH--" a growl of frustration as he tried to unstick it. Oh, brilliant. And ouch. He yanked the spoon away and tried to look at his tongue again, but it was long enough to actually see with his own eyes--and forked. Like a snake. It seemed to be a hybrid between a snake's tongue and a chameleon's.
"What in blazessss--"
His good mood had turned quite foul as he turned back to his food, trying to figure out how to eat it in a civilized manner.
What: In which a slightly off-kilter Sherlock deals with the fallout of being turned into a chameleon including that tongue thing
Where: Cookhouse, because it's warm
When: Late night, D39ish-40 (up to right before the Agents arrive)
It was really lucky he wasn't in a small spot, say inside a cupboard or under the bunk when Sherlock transformed back to--well, not exactly normal...whoever and whatever he was before. At the very least, he was no longer a tiny lizard. Though the small cardboard box he'd holed up into in his trailer was now obliterated.
I'm back! Ha ha! He frantically patted himself down, just to be sure. No wacky tail or weird bug eyes. No more eating bugs--now that he was back to 'normal' the thought was uncomfortable, even if they did taste pretty great when he was a chameleon. No lasting side effects? He scrambled in and ran to the bathroom. He looked the same as before, right? Scales, whatever.
He was absolutely ecstatic. He could speak again, he could move quickly, oh, was it his birthday? No one ever realizes how much they miss things when they were gone. He was--he whirled around. Hungry. He was really famished. To the cookhouse!
Sherlock practically flew in, his coat flapping behind him and he looked slightly wild with unbridled frantic energy. Maybe being transformed amped his appetite, maybe that collection of roaches he'd snacked on now sitting in his stomach wasn't enough for a proper meal now he was much larger, how did the physics of being turned into something else even work!?--
He grabbed a tray and loaded up, and went to go sit down at a table.
That pudding looked excellent.
"It really issss a lovely--"
THWWAAAP--
Without warning, his tongue shot out towards the pudding on his plate, which naturally sent most of it flying in globs everywhere. SNAPPPP--it retracted like a lightning bolt, and he almost choked on the small amount of pudding he managed.
Oh no.
He grabbed a spoon after doing his best not to aspirate on pudding, and opened his mouth. This was not a welcome development! He stuck out his tongue slighty--
THWWAPP--stuck to the spoon.
"NMMYMMGH--" a growl of frustration as he tried to unstick it. Oh, brilliant. And ouch. He yanked the spoon away and tried to look at his tongue again, but it was long enough to actually see with his own eyes--and forked. Like a snake. It seemed to be a hybrid between a snake's tongue and a chameleon's.
"What in blazessss--"
His good mood had turned quite foul as he turned back to his food, trying to figure out how to eat it in a civilized manner.