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)
lostcarnival2017-02-16 07:16 am
thevictoriandetective) wrote in lostcarnival2017-02-16 07:16 am
Entry tags:
Sherly's back
Who: Sherlock and you
Where: Here, there, everywhere
When: D60/right before they get to the celebration
What: Who are you and what have you done with Sherlock
Warnings: BBC Sherlock Season 4 spoilers
He was just running through Rathbone Place and then...and then he was here. He was back.
The memories came rushing back, hitting him so hard he had to stop...he looked down at his hands, covered in green scales. No...it wasn't fair! It wasn't fair, he was home...it wasn't fair!
His debt wasn't paid in full yet. She'd just sent him home to...he frowned as he sighed and began to walk further into the Carnival. Had she known what would happen to him? The past year...Mary, John...Eurus...
The one hope that was he...he might be able to go back. Like Jimmy said. Change things. He bit his forked tongue. It would cost him if he tried. Could he bargain for such? That would make him have to stay here longer than a year.
But if he could save John and bring Rosie's mother back...
He would do anything.
*****
A. Trailer
Sherlock wandered back to his trailer, unsure of how long he'd been gone. It was difficult to tell, but at least they weren't underwater anymore.
"Gon?" he opened the door, wondering if he was in. Since he'd arrived, he noticed that his nails were becoming steadily longer and pointier. He scowled, holding a hand up to the light. Blast, more changes. Supposed that was inevitable, especially since he'd been gone.
Still. A look of sadness crossed his face. He wasn't going to be playing violin anytime soon.
Despite his reptilian facial features he seemed...different. More open, perhaps? The emotion on his face was more...exposed, maybe. He wasn't hiding it as much as before.
B. Cookhouse
Sherlock wandered into the cookhouse after some time, he'd taken a walk to sort through things and see if anything much has changed. It had been a year for him, but it didn't seem long at all, here. Weird. He remembered fairy tales vaguely, about strange time differences...but he much preferred pirate stories as a child.
A sad sort of smirk as he went to go grab a plate of food.
His new claws clinked against the plates, his blue eyes had changed too, becoming slitted, like a snake's. A slew of changes had hit him all at once since he'd arrived, the strangest included the rather odd disappearance of his ears. Lizards and snakes didn't have mammalian-type ears. Luckily it was mostly hidden by his hair but it was disconcerting. He could still hear, of course, it just felt...different. Hard to put his finger on.
Where: Here, there, everywhere
When: D60/right before they get to the celebration
What: Who are you and what have you done with Sherlock
Warnings: BBC Sherlock Season 4 spoilers
He was just running through Rathbone Place and then...and then he was here. He was back.
The memories came rushing back, hitting him so hard he had to stop...he looked down at his hands, covered in green scales. No...it wasn't fair! It wasn't fair, he was home...it wasn't fair!
His debt wasn't paid in full yet. She'd just sent him home to...he frowned as he sighed and began to walk further into the Carnival. Had she known what would happen to him? The past year...Mary, John...Eurus...
The one hope that was he...he might be able to go back. Like Jimmy said. Change things. He bit his forked tongue. It would cost him if he tried. Could he bargain for such? That would make him have to stay here longer than a year.
But if he could save John and bring Rosie's mother back...
He would do anything.
*****
A. Trailer
Sherlock wandered back to his trailer, unsure of how long he'd been gone. It was difficult to tell, but at least they weren't underwater anymore.
"Gon?" he opened the door, wondering if he was in. Since he'd arrived, he noticed that his nails were becoming steadily longer and pointier. He scowled, holding a hand up to the light. Blast, more changes. Supposed that was inevitable, especially since he'd been gone.
Still. A look of sadness crossed his face. He wasn't going to be playing violin anytime soon.
Despite his reptilian facial features he seemed...different. More open, perhaps? The emotion on his face was more...exposed, maybe. He wasn't hiding it as much as before.
B. Cookhouse
Sherlock wandered into the cookhouse after some time, he'd taken a walk to sort through things and see if anything much has changed. It had been a year for him, but it didn't seem long at all, here. Weird. He remembered fairy tales vaguely, about strange time differences...but he much preferred pirate stories as a child.
A sad sort of smirk as he went to go grab a plate of food.
His new claws clinked against the plates, his blue eyes had changed too, becoming slitted, like a snake's. A slew of changes had hit him all at once since he'd arrived, the strangest included the rather odd disappearance of his ears. Lizards and snakes didn't have mammalian-type ears. Luckily it was mostly hidden by his hair but it was disconcerting. He could still hear, of course, it just felt...different. Hard to put his finger on.
no subject
"I..."
He didn't want to forget about any more friends.
Not after he'd finally remembered Victor.
Sherlock looked down, biting his lip. "A lot. Obviously. But it was...well, not all of it was bad. John...my best friend, John Watson, fathered a little girl. Her name is Rosie." There's a slight twinkle of light in his eyes, he did quite care about her. "That was a good thing. But..."
A pause, as if he was trying to collect himself.
"I got his wife killed."
Another pause. "Yes, he said it wasn't my fault, but that doesn't take away the fact of it wasn't for me, she would still be alive. I was...stupid, I was showing off, and Vivienne Norbury tried to shoot me. Mary...she jumped in front of the bullet. Saved my life. John hated me for some time."
He tries to keep the emotion out of his voice and sound casual. "Anyway, he wasn't doing so well. Drinking, you know? Mary left a DVD...it was a contingency plan, she's very clever--to save John from himself, I had to put myself in danger."
There's a smirk. Yeah, Sherlock would seem to view this next part quite favorably. "I went on a massive drug bender and picked a fight with a serial killer."
But then, he sobered up.
"Not long after that, I...discovered that I had a sister. A sister I didn't remember. She was--is a genius, beyond anything most people have ever seen. She had...difficulty with morality. She trapped me, John, and my brother Mycroft in this mad...game, this experiment, testing our morality, emotions, deductive reasoning. I was supposed to shoot Mycroft or John..." his voice shook. "I managed to call her bluff on that, but the game got worse. She trapped John in a well being filled with water..." his voice really shook. "And I finally remembered that...she'd killed my best friend when I was six the exact same way. I had replaced his memory with that of a dog to save myself from the trauma, and it repressed memories of her as well. Mycroft...lied to me all these years to avoid the memories from returning."
He took a deep breath, trying to rid the emotion from his voice.
"Anyway, John survived."
no subject
"I don't quite know how to respond to that, Sherlock. But thank you for telling me." It's a struggle to keep the pity off his face because god damn how do you respond to that? "It's John's wife you're wanting to save, right?" He's assuming yes, but it never hurts to double check. Jimmy can pick out a few things that would probably be worth investigating for do-overs, but Mary's death sounds like the big one.
"The first thing you're going to have to do is figure out how you want to do it. What would be the best way to get your attention. We've only got one shot at this each, and there aren't any do-overs. Time, we've got. Now we just need to figure out how to say it." He coughs once, politely. "And I don't think 'punching yourself in the face' would work as well for you as it would for me."