nexus_crossings | 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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No he wasn't zoning out, piecing things together. Things he'd rather ignore are completely different from zoning out. She clearly doesn't know him at all. He continues to stalk away even after she calls after him. Then he hears her trying to catch up. He turns and faces her. All annoyance and deductions without consideration to others coming out.

"Only a handful of people call you by your name. You paused. Added your husband. You are acting overly familiar with me. Which is a pity really, because it tells me what I need to know. You know an 'older version of me.' Who also calls you by your name. Conclusion: your husband is a supposed older version of me. Yes, supposed. Anyone who has known me more than five minutes would tell you I'm married to my work. And you... you are far from my work."

He needs Mrs Hudson here to say 'Norbury'. Oh well. He continues on. "I am not who you think I am and I will not play party to some strange substitute you are trying to create. I can deal with more trouble than you can imagine. And if you really do know this 'older version of me,' you would know that. Conclusion: you don't know me at all."

With that, he turns away. And practically runs. This is not someone he wants to encounter again. She makes it too obvious just how broken his Mind Palace is, and he won't be able to fix it with that level of distraction around.

He needs to find the dungeon. At this point, he'll even take Moriarty, over everyone else he's encountered so far.

She blinks, her eyebrows go up. Pausing in place. Listening patiencely though some of it it rather wrong, "Actually he's not, your the same height that's bout it." Her Husband was a blonde and not a Holmes for another.

Her shoulders slump though, as her heart sinks. Feeling lower with each passing moment another part of her breaking or editing. Even as a lump half chokes her and she does her best to keep the tears from falling though they did well. She'd failed him, and her dear friend both. She wasn't sure the best course..now.But she had had to try. She hoped for his sake he could..Though if needed help he had it.

"Pardon..ahem." She softly clears her throat if only to keep the lump from choking her. "I didn't mean to make ya feel so..and sometimes even he found himself out of his depth.." Her tone gentle and kind Before closing her eyes. She knew how least one hated tears..But that seems to be the only thing she can muster, sorrow, and guilt... But no not anger. What good would that do..Disappointment and concern writ on her face as she watched him go. For a moment before turning slow, sorrow and other emotions and heartbreak draining what energy she'd been able to muster. A soft sniffle, as oh so softly. She tried to sing, "If I'm not back again this time tomorrow carry on carry."

Before her voice broke and died away. Her shoulders shook as she headed to the nearest semi-sheltered spot to half curl/slump and cry herself out. Griefing and silently cursing herself out for being a stupid idgit of a puppy. Half wondering, not for the first time why she bothered to try anymore. As her hair soon mixed and changed into fur big wet tears falling down her now canine muzzle.

Edited 2020-04-10 02:40 (UTC)

Sherlock only pauses a moment when he hears that he was wrong. Well, it's always something. And actually, being wrong, just makes him move away faster. He flips the collar of his Belstaff up as he moves faster away. He needs to find a way out of this place of insanity.

She blinks up and looks hopeful a little, despite herself..and..of course, not...She droops watching him through stinging tears she's fighting before they fall. Ah yes, his 'armor'. She feels another pang. Feeling like she's losing her dear friend as well as one that might have been all over again...One would think she'd get used to it. "'m sorry." She murmurs soft and low..Why? why was it she'd tried to make things better..She shakes her head lowly, perhaps..she was broken in some manner..Yes, that would explain it. Unfit. She winces.

She shakes when she hits the grass, curling internal withdrawing into herself as her human side does the same in a blink she's nearly all Canine in form if not quite in mind as she curls up physically as well. She sniffles softly again. "I'm sorry." Perhaps they would be better off without her. "I wish I could lead you home." She whispers. Yes, many folks were stuck where they didn't belong or displaced. She hoped those them and him safe in their travels because if something ever happened she would never forgive herself.

Ya can lead a horse to water however you can't force them to drink.

Edited 2020-04-26 03:54 (UTC)

Lockdown Brings out Old muses

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( Sorry for any uncomfortable feels she's in an emotional messy place trying to keep it together)

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