001 Video

[thevictoriandetective]

[There's some fumbling and muttered rude words, a flash of blue and gray. Finally it comes into focus, a tall, thin man--not as tall as he looks--gazing intensely into the screen. There's a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead that his dark curls are sticking to. His eyes dart back and forth rapidly, and his pallor suggests he's ill or at least feels ill. He's wearing a fitted white shirt under a tailored suit jacket. More likely the latter, though he looked like he didn't belong in Florida weather. He's in an alleyway, someplace quiet.]

Hello. My name is Sherlock Holmes.

[He's expecting some recognition or something. That arrogant tilt of his chin hides the utter bewilderment and flabbergastation that's whirling around in that mind. Oh yeah, he's dead confused and completely out of his element, figuratively and literally.]

Clearly this is some massive practical joke, no doubt financed by someone who hates me. Since that's a lot of people, I figured I would address as many as possible with this device. You can't expect me to believe I haven't just been kidnapped and dropped in this disgusting swamp and that some stupid newspaper has-been in search of his last chance at a proper story is waiting behind curtain number three to snap a picture of me making a fool of myself. Or a mad little experiment from our old friends at Baskerville. I really don't care, though admittedly, you've done an excellent job with the special effects, the cars...the science fiction. Theatrical. I applaud the spectacle.

However, it grows tiresome. This ruse is stupid, so you can stop this now, you can give up.

I also will need plane tickets back to London immediately, return my actual phone, and someone to remove this idiotic tattoo.

Don't make me call my brother.

Comments

Re: video;

[thevictoriandetective]

Excuse me. I am certainly not a 'big baby.'

[hightiderising]

Well, you kinda sound like one with the way you're calling for your brother. You seem pretty close-minded, too. You know, the only way to fake this much stuff would probably be through illusions. Magic. But I bet you don't believe in that, either.

[thevictoriandetective]

[Oh, he doesn't like that one bit. He huffs and looks cross.]

You obviously don't know who my brother is.

Oh, there are ways. You mustn't be creative enough if you can't figure it out. Theatrics can easily take this.

Magic isn't real, don't be daft.

[hightiderising]

Maybe on your world.

[And so she puts the phone down on her dresser, backing up enough that enough of herself is visible in the camera. She summons her weapon with a flash of light out of thin air, points it at nothing in particular and shoots out a flurry of ice shards from its tip.

Afterwards, Xion retrieves her phone so she can show whoever the heck "Sherlock Holmes" is that she did indeed just freeze her dresser mirror solid.]

But here, we're all from different worlds. We bring the rules of our own worlds with us, I guess.

[thevictoriandetective]

[Poor Sherlock. He's completely out of his depth here.

He stares for a least a good forty-five seconds before he can manage to collect himself enough to speak again. Or even blink again.]

That's...erm...

[He clears his throat.]

A neat trick.

[hightiderising]

Wanna guess how I did it?

[thevictoriandetective]

[He decides to humor her.]

How'd you do it then?

[hightiderising]

[She grins wide like the big kid she really is.]

Magic.

[thevictoriandetective]

[He's equally a big kid and scowls petulantly.]

I'm sure there's a proper scientific explanation somewhere.

[hightiderising]

[She knew it all along.]

Go on then, tell me!

[thevictoriandetective]

[He attempts to clear his throat a little.]

Theatrics, laser displays, holograms are a burgeoning technology, for one. Another, it's possibly a new cryogenics technology.

[It's not a very good explanation and he knows it. He's just stubborn.]