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

[thevictoriandetective]

Yes. Just today.

I still can't believe this is happening. [He mostly mutters this to himself.]

[incogneto]

If you want, you could have a lie-down at the clinic, but I'd suggest you find your house assignment first.

[thevictoriandetective]

[That was surprisingly a kind suggestion, but even when Sherlock was actually ill he didn't like to slow down. Most of the time when he did he was just being lazy.]

Housing assignment? Oh, right. I can't believe they're making me stay with other people... [He scoffs.] And they gave me a job. Social worker? What were they thinking?

[incogneto]

If you wanted, you could find alternative employment.

[thevictoriandetective]

That would probably be best, yes. I'd rather not end up in prison, again.

[incogneto]

You were in prison for being unemployed?

[thevictoriandetective]

No, it was for--something else.

[He realized he probably shouldn't be telling a complete stranger he shot a man in the head in cold blood.]

[incogneto]

Well, alright. Your assignment should be [ I actually have no idea how we IC get assignments so here's a placeholder for where Erik describes where it is. ]

[thevictoriandetective]

Brilliant. How utterly wonderful. [It's sarcastic but he seems slightly pained by it.]

[incogneto]

I know you miss your home, but give it a chance.

[thevictoriandetective]

Give it a chance? Why should I?

[incogneto]

Because unfortunately, and you will figure this out soon on your own, you are stuck here. And you have very little power as to when you will be sent home. And then you may find yourself here again.

[thevictoriandetective]

[He was absolutely right, and Sherlock was not happy about it.]

You mean, even if we are sent home, we can be pulled back here?!

[incogneto]

Yes, and it gets confusing. This past summer I disappeared for a day-- a Saturday, if I remember.

And I had spent twenty years at home.

Imagine my surprise seeing people I had forgotten for twenty years, and yet I had no memory of forgetting them.

[thevictoriandetective]

[Sherlock's eyes widened.]

What? And there's nothing one can do to stop it!?

[incogneto]

As I said, people have tried.

I did enjoy my time back home, if it's consolation.