maskormenace | 001 Video

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[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.

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Cheers.

[ john takes the lighter from sherlock, gripping it in his dominant hand and holds his palm out over the lighter. he takes a deep breath and then, with a quick, powerful motion of his thumb, rolls the spark wheel down to the ignition button and presses it down hard.

the wheel strikes a spark that ignites the gas into a steady flame that, instead of scorching john's open palm, simply tickles the newly, hardened skin that ripples up and disappears underneath the cuff of his shooting jacket. looking thoroughly relieved that it worked and didn't hurt, john releases the ignition button and hands the lighter back. ]

Sometimes, my body will do stuff like that. Adapt to things that might hurt quite a lot.

[Sherlock's not quite sure what to expect. His imagination leaps wildly to perhaps some fire-based power or something to do with metal. Before he could do much else his eyes widened as John lifts his palm over the lighter and just--burns himself!?]

John--what--NO--

[His protests were pointless after his heart had stopped for entirely too long in the fear that his friend had hurt himself, as he realized a little too slowly that he was in fact, not harmed.

He blinks for a good twenty seconds, his voice disappearing a moment as he tried to clear it with a cough.]

You...that...didn't that hurt?!

[ john attempts to clench his fingers, but meets resistance as the digits curl inward. frowning, he flexes his wrist for a moment, but the skin on that hand remains tough and rigid. ]

Not one bit. It's probably going to be a bit stiff until tomorrow, though.

[Sherlock stares, and tentatively holds out his own hand. His brows furrowed, expecting John to say no, but he couldn't not ask.]

Can I, er, see it?

[This was all new to him--as far as he knew--and he wasn't sure if John was uncomfortable with this--he hated using the word but what else could he call it?--'superpower'.

But the scientific side of him was absolutely dying of curiosity. So many questions were whirling around in his mind. How was this possible? Cellular adaptation upon potential damage! Did it involve some kind of previously unknown cellular potential that all humans had or was it based around some kind of energy field in the way he imagined his own must be? He was still sorting through what happened to himself, the only way for his mind to be able to access computers would be through some kind of field generated by his mind, perhaps...]

[ john presses his lips together and looks around. he doesn't want someone to walk by and get the wrong idea about them. caught holding hands? he can just imagine the posts on rumblr. fortunately, no one has returned to the petrol station yet and this is enough for john to agree. ]

Go ahead.

[ he tentatively puts his hand in sherlock's and lets the detective examine it. as soon as the flame licked john's skin, it generated innate armour, an almost rock-like quality that protected him from burning himself. it's not massively different from his other hand -- it was only a tiny flame, after all -- but the differences are there. ]

[Sherlock was either oblivious to what people might say or more likely he just didn't care, but he took John's hand and very carefully examined it, paying close attention to the bit that was 'burned'. He peered closely at it, and could quickly tell and feel the difference between the quality of his normal skin and that which had the armor.]

Fascinating!

[He's giddy with the promise of scientific discovery that completely overcomes his previous apprehension and fear of the situation he'd found himself in. He lets go of John's hand, his eyes alight with that gleam he got when a particularly gruesome or impossible case appeared.]

John, your cells--do they respond to everything and anything that can harm you?

[He also seemed quite oblivious to how ominous that must have sounded.]

[ john attempts the dexterity of his hand again while sherlock' mind whirls with the possibilities of his power. he might've made himself trouble in the long run, but at least he's coaxed him back from a full blown panic attack. ]

Yeah. Not everything at once, obviously. I'm not like Superman; I can only handle one threat at a time.

[ it's why he was insusceptible to scarecrow's fear toxin but ended up with a bullet in his leg instead. not that he'll ever tell sherlock about that. even now, he struggles with what happened back then. ]

Like I said, it's a bit hard to explain.

[Sherlock was feeling much better, his mind was now distracted with possibility. It was probably the best thing that could happen to him considering how upset he was at what he knew of reality becoming completely flipped, plus the shock of what happened with the microwave.

He spoke rapid-fire with excitement.]

One thing at a time? What happens if you were trapped underwater? Would you grow gills? Have you had a cold this entire time? How does your body react to extreme cold? I'm sure I could find a walk-in-freezer somewhere if you were so inclined...

[ john opens his mouth to lay down some ground rules when a realisation hits him. ]

Now that you mention it, I don't think I have had a cold since I've been here. [ he never thought about it because of the different climate but maybe it's been more than that. ] Thanks for the offer, but I'm okay. I'll just wait until it next snows.

[Sherlock nods and makes a mental note of it. He'd certainly have to experiment on himself, he'd need to get a few--hopefully disposable--electronic devices to work on.]

John, have you had a blood test yet? Is it even possible to draw blood? I'd like to have a look under a microscope, if you don't mind.

[He tried to be extra polite in order to get what he wanted, like he did to Molly when he wanted extra thumbs.]

Yeah, it's possible. I had one back in... February, I think? It was sort of, uh, mandatory. I haven't heard anything back, so I assume it was fine.

[ john shrugs, giving sherlock a reproachful look. he hasn't realised he's just revealed to him how he's been here for the better part of the year. instead, he's really considering sherlock's request and what he's about to say. ]

If I give you a sample, can you promise I'm not going to wake up one night and find you looming over me with a syringe? Or hear about it years later?

[He nods like an eager puppy.]

Yes. Agreed. Definitely.

[It takes him a second--you're slipping, Sherlock--to realize that John has revealed how long he's been here, at least up to February, and who knew how much earlier he'd been here since then. He tilted his chin slightly, studying him.]

Okay, good. I'll draw some at work tomorrow.

[ when sherlock starts looking at him like a specimen, he raises an eyebrow questioningly. ]

What is it?

[Sherlock declines to prod much further about how long John had actually stayed here. It was obvious there was a reason why he'd declined on saying so but Sherlock figured it would make itself known soon enough.]

Nothing.

So, I don't suppose that you know how what I can do works, do you?

[Just that he was feeling slightly better about this whole thing and that John was protected at least, in some ways. Sherlock was fiercely protective of John and this was just one less thing to worry about.]

Nooo idea. Sorry.

[ john can still only type one word per minute. He also doesn't look convinced it's just nothing but he remembers something else. ]

Oh actually, there is someone who might know. There's a bloke here called Mitchell Hundred. He's a bit of a dick, but he can talk to electronics. Phones, radios, the whole lot.

[A nod from the detective as he files that information away for later.]

Good to know.

[He wasn't sure if he could do all that, but it was a good start, at least.]

If you don't have any luck with Mitch, try the network. It's sort of like a forum for ImPorts. Someone might know how your power works.

[ unfortunately, john hasn't seen how many people he's already upset. ]

Right then. Where are you staying?

[Sherlock gives him a furitive look, but makes a mental note to do so.]

Oh, somewhere in this town I suppose.

[He looks at the pamphlet and makes a horrified face when he finds out he's in a place with roommates..

With other people!?

[Sherlock suddenly looks uncharacteristically shy, he started to say something but stopped. Was John living with someone else? It was possible he didn't want to live with him? Sherlock was still under the influence of years of being rejected and despite his friendship with John there were times like these where he fell back into his old fears, like when John asked him to be his best man and he blanked out for a good long time.]

Let's have a look.

[ john edges closer to sherlock and stands on his tiptoes to see the pamphlet. he reads about his living arrangements and hums noncommittally, brow furrowing in thought. he doesn't recognise any of the names listed, therefore he can't tell whether he'd be in good company or their worst roommate ever.

a moment passes and john rests back on his feet. he looks at sherlock and purses his lips. after today's spectacle, he isn't entirely sure he wants to leave him on his own. right then. ]

You can stay at my place if you want. You know... until you get this power thing sorted out. I will warn you though: I have a cat.

[Sherlock is visibly relieved. It's clear in his face and his posture, as if he was holding his breath the whole time. When he returned from 'the dead' he'd expected, as naive as it was, to literally pick life back up the way it was before. But John had moved out and lived with Mary. As much as he didn't want to say or admit it, he honestly missed having John as a roommate.]

Well, if you insist.

[Of course he was going to pretend it wasn't a big deal, when his spirits had brightened considerably. He could deal with a cat hovering around.]

Okay, good. It'll be just like old times again.

[ john's powers of deduction might be lacking compared to some people, but he can at least tell sherlock is at ease now he's invited him to stay with him. he's even feeling a little excited about living with him again -- after all, he's never been bored living with sherlock holmes. yes, he's been angry and frustrated with him, but never bored.

although now he's wondering how the cat is going to react to his previous owner returning and why it only responds to the name john. wetting his lips, he tilts his head. ]

Do you want to get going now or do you want the grand tour of Heropa?

Right. Like old times.

[Sherlock is now quite happy despite everything that's gone wrong in the past day.]

I'd rather get going. I'll memorize the maps later.

[Just like London, he would study the streets of the places he was going to be frequenting so that he would be able to recall them at a moments notice. He didn't know of course that his technopathy would allow him to do that anyway without having to memorize the maps, but he would take it as a point of pride to be able to do the latter.]

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