nexus_crossings | Lockdown Brings out Old muses

Lockdown Brings out Old muses

[ooc: his current timeline is pre-"Final Problem", also rusty muse is rusty, apologies.]

There's a new person in the Nexus today. A very confused new person, who isn't sure exactly how he got here. Could be drugs. No, it can't be drugs. He has been more or less in lockdown during his detox, unable to access any drugs of any kind. John isn't even allowing him paracetamol right now. Which makes his detox headaches nearly too much to handle. Maybe that's what this place is...

Could be his mind palace, though it has never appeared like this before. He shakes his head to clear it of that idea.

He looks around, with complete confusion on his features. He reads the signs and takes in the population wandering around. None of it really takes away the confusion upon his features. He's not sure how to react to the information he's being flooded with...

His lips twitch as a song comes to mind. Lestrade had been the last person he remembered 'babysitting' him. He had brought a collection of music for them to listen to, so they could pass the time. So, one of those lyrics came to mind "Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?"

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Sherlock is about to reply to the first part. Because at least this person acknowledges there may not be proof. But then... he asks a question. And the question kind of breaks his brain for a minute. A sign of this is Sherlock blinking his eyes and saying nothing for several moments.

"I... have no idea. But I'll know it when it happens."

"...I see." Aziraphale is no stranger to humans questioning their reality. It comes with the territory of being an angel. "That does make things a bit tricky, doesn't it? Oh, dear."

Not wanting to leave the poor fellow stranded, he offers the man another polite smile. "Well... how about I give you a bit of a tour, hmm? Perhaps something will offer the proof you need, and if not, at least you'll have a colorful tale to share with your friends later. I was just on my way to the Grand Library -- aptly named, it's quite impressive -- would you care to join me?"

Sherlock looks around. "Well, I haven't had a better offer yet. And Libraries tend to be good sources of information. It's as good a place to start as any."

Which is.. surprisingly accepting and non-combative of him to say.

"It does have some information about the Nexus, although it's mostly a collection a books from the multiverse itself. An excellent place to research other worlds, if you're into that sort of thing. I go there for the literature."

He gestures for the man to follow him as he heads out of the Plaza. "It's not too far from here... oh, dreadfully sorry, I haven't even introduced myself. I'm the Principality Aziraphale. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?"

Sherlock looks at the other from the side of his eye. "Principality. As in 'Nine Choirs of Angels'?" His eyes narrow. "If you are what you say, shouldn't you know who I am?"

Yes, part of Sherlock's denial stage. He's going to make everyone prove themselves to him. It's not Aziraphale's fault.

The man's skepticism elicits a surprised laugh out of him. "Whoever gave you the idea that angels are omniscient? We only know what we're told if it's part of an assignment."

He supposes that they are not likely to have a normal conversation until at least this matter is resolved. "Would you like more substantial proof as to my angelic status? I can't fully reveal myself, that could be potentially very bad for you, but I can try to find some middle-ground. Would you like to see my wings?"

"And how was I supposed to know I wasn't 'an assignment'?"

The lack of logic in this place is pretty astounding. And it has put him in a fowl mood. "Wings don't matter. Many on the side of the Angels don't have wings. Doesn't mean they can't do good."

Except for him. He's on the side of the angels, but readily admits to not being one of them.

"Because I didn't know your name," Aziraphale replies, unaware of his circular reasoning. He huffs a bit and gives the man a look. "Don't know your name, I should say, because you still haven't told me."

As for the rest, he waves his hand a bit. "There are many humans doing Good out there, for certain. But they aren't angels any more than I'm a seal because I enjoy eating fish. Anyway, if you aren't interested in seeing them then I won't do it. Bit of a pain to get through doorways with them out, anyway."

"in the bible, angles always seem to know the person's name. So, we're back to I didn't think an introduction was needed."

Still doesn't, since he still hasn't said his name.

"Which is odd when you think about it. I don't call people seals when they eat fish, yet people are insistent on calling others angels just because the do a good dead."

"Back to square one, then," Aziraphale says drolly. "Am I to guess your name, then? Do I get any hints?"

The angel's leisurely walk has led them to the steps of a large building with high, arching doors. "No, although you might call someone a pig for eating too much, or a dog for their blind loyalty. But you're right, people do tend to call someone an angel for a good deed. That's not even an entirely apt comparison in most cases." He heads up the stairs. "And here we are, the Grand Library. Don't be fooled by appearances, it's bigger on the inside."

Fine. He ignores all the petty name-calling. Because he doesn't use those terms. Far too logical for that. He goes with his name. "Sherlock Holmes."

Which is all he gets in before he hears the words 'bigger on the inside'. "Really? Looks big enough to me."

Aziraphale stops in his tracks, hand on one of the ornate door handles. "Sherlock Holmes? As in Detective Sherlock Holmes?"

Well, that explains a lot, now doesn't it! His eyes light up excitedly, but he manages to stop himself from asking any ridiculous questions. "Ah, well, you'll see." He opens the door and waves Sherlock inside. "After you."

As large as the outside architecture appeared, inside is vastly bigger. High ceilings provide ample room for the bookshelves that extend in all directions. There is an information desk by the doors, along with a row of computers, presumably for people to look things up on their own. "Here we are. It's very organized in the main area, things get a little convoluted the more obscure your search is, I think it's the nature of the Nexus bleeding into the library, unfortunately."

Sherlock smirks. "So you do know me."

Which is all he really needs to say. Sherlock looks up.... and then has to step out and look at the height of the building... and then he steps back in. Something from his childhood surfaces. "Dimensionally transcendental..."

Of course, he's deleted where he's heard it before. Couldn't identify it as being from Doctor Who. But then, "Everything looks bigger on the inside to a child. So, they are playing on our emotions."

Or his mind palace is. He hasn't decided yet.

"I know of you, Detective." This man doesn't look like the Sherlock Holmes he's familiar with, but Aziraphale has been in the Nexus long enough to know that people don't always look as you think they might when they're coming from another world. That razor sharp analytical wit is certainly the same, and that's good enough for him.

Would it be weird to say that he's read all of the books he's in? Yes, probably. He'll keep that to himself.

Aziraphale does not get the reference, either. Crowley has been slowly introducing him to modern film and television, but Doctor Who has not made it on the list yet. Shame, that. Aziraphale would really like the Tenth Doctor. "I've never been a child, but it does evoke a sense of wonder, doesn't it? I've spent entire days in here. I'd spend longer than that, but I have a partner who drags me out if I'm here too long."

The books are quite different, so he could mention them, but Sherlock would probably interpret it as someone taking John's blog and writing books. Well, depending upon how it was mentioned, anyway.

"Not sure I'd say wonder. Curiosity, certainly. Partner who drags you out? Why would anyone drag someone away from a library?"

Hearing about a fictionalized, 19th century version of himself would probably not help with establishing the Nexus as a real place, so Aziraphale doesn't bother. He does pay a bit more attention to Sherlock's mannerisms, however, wondering what else the detective might have in common with his alternate.

The question makes him chuckle. "Yes, well, I'd spend weeks in here if he didn't come fetch me. I get distracted by books so easily, but I'd feel positively dreadful if I neglected him for that long."

Probably not as much in common as people like to think. He's more of an arse, to start with.

"Again, I don't see a problem with that. But you say partner... do angels work in pairs these days?"

What does Sherlock know? Technically, he's a Christian. But it's not like he actually practices his faith, beyond the 'big life events'.

"Uh..." There are a number of things to correct in Sherlock's question. He decides to start with the easiest and work his way up.

"When I said partner, I meant romantically. As for angels working in pairs... well, that's not uncommon, actually, but my partner isn't an angel. He's a demon."

He glances at Sherlock, curious how the man will react. It's always easier to explain this sort of thing after a person has met Crowley.

"I... Thought angels were pure spirits and had no need for.... romantic entanglements."

His opinion of angels is plummeting by the moment. And that's without addressing the demon part. First things first.

"Well, that is the case for all other angels, but none of them have lived on Earth for over six thousand years as I have. And I have known my partner for just as long."

He can sense Sherlock's disapproval. It's something he expects from other angels, although no one in the Nexus has had an issue with his relationship before. "Not your cup of tea, I take it?"

Sherlock doesn't like that answer for many reasons. "I consider myself married to my work. I thought angels did as well..."

It's not a specific disapproval, he's not into relationships in general.

"In a sense, we are our work, as we were created for a specific purpose." To varying dogmatic degrees. "But you, dear fellow, are human. An exceptional human, but human nonetheless. Not that it requires you to be interested in romance, but you do have free will to pursue more than simply your career."

"Unless my Sunday School teachers were wrong, angels have Free Well too. Otherwise, what was the point of the lesson of Lucifer?"

He doesn't normally talk religion or theology. But nothing else in this place makes any sense, so why not?

Aziraphale discusses theology in the Nexus far less often than one might expect from an angel, but it's an interesting question to discuss. "Let's put aside the accuracy of your Sunday School teachers for the moment. I've yet to come across a religion that gets all the facts right. But it's not the same sort of free will. Lucifer fell because he rebelled. Humans make all sorts of decisions, good and bad, but even the bad ones don't necessarily condemn them."

He pauses a moment, twisting the ring on his pinky finger. "It's not easy for an angel to not do what he's told. The punishment can be severe. And I don't mean Falling, only God can do that. Heaven has other methods to keep angels in line."

"You have my attention. Explain more. How is free will different for angels? And what kinds of punishments are you talking about?"

Honestly, Mycroft and 'The East Wind' was enough to terrify Sherlock when he was little. But this... this is far bigger somehow. And he's not convinced that Aziraphale is an angel, so the conversation is as much about sussing that out than anything else.

Lockdown Brings out Old muses

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omg the typos last time - sorry about that.

No worries! Happens to the best of us.

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