Disquiet

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

Sherlock has been here about a month. He's more or less kept to himself, except when he's had to go out to get something to eat. It took about five days to settle in a bit and stop fighting the question if he was dreaming or not. He didn't like accepting that this wasn't a drug-induced high or that he was stuck in his mind palace. In the end, it helped that no one he recognised was here. After all, in his mind palace, there was always at least one person he knew.

But, it took that long because either of those options were preferable to the truth: he was in some weird alternate reality with no way home. Well, unless he found whatever door he had stumbled through to get here. And, he wasn't sure he wanted to go back. All that waited for him back there were recovery and facing the loss of Mary. Culverton Smith had been a fantastic distraction from the horror that it was his fault that Mary died. (Even if John told him it wasn't, he shouldn't have pushed Vivian.) It was a reality he didn't want to face. Yet, even here, the grief and guilt would sneak up on him.

It's why it was better to avoid people than be around them. Well, that, and the strange person who acted like she knew him so well and she didn't know him at all. That was... troubling. And he kept a look-out for her every time he did wander out. He hadn't decided what to make of her yet. So avoidance of that was the best possible answer. Still, he needed money. And while in theory, he understood the PIN devices, he wasn't sure they worked quite like the internet back home.

So, he's sitting on a bench in the plaza, next to a sign, which reads:
Sherlock Holmes,
the world's only consulting detective.

This is what I do:
1. I observe everything.
2. From that, I deduce everything.
3. Once I've eliminated the impossible,
whatever remains,
must be the truth.

But, that was really just attention seeking. He has a question of his own. So whenever anyone ventures close enough to read the sign, he allows for general introductions and eventually asks: "How do you live with yourself, if a vow you failed to keep led to the death of your friend?"

Comments

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

“I have a very prolific imagination”.

He thinks long and hard about his answer.

“I don’t know I think I was sleeping. Might have been mediating in my Mind Palace, though.”

Sometimes there’s not much difference.

[chiaro_oscuro]

"Then you're probably not dead. I haven't heard of somebody coming here in their dreams, but it probably isn't impossible."

Ben's heard too many strange stories about how people got to the Nexus to think otherwise.

"You might find this place interesting. There's some little mysteries, though no murders or anything like that. Like where the anti-violence field came from, and who invented the PINpoints."

Ben didn't look too deeply into those questions, but he's no detective.

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

“You said you haven’t been here all that long yourself. I imagine there’s quite a lot you don’t know.”

He doesn’t like the last remark. “I didn’t care about such things back home. Why would I care about them now? The only question even slightly interesting is ‘what is it all for.’ Take you, dead. Yet you’re here. Why? What’s the point?”

He waves a hand in the air to rid it of the questions. “No. I’m not even interested in that. I’m bored.”

[chiaro_oscuro]

"That's true. A lot of what I do know I learned from talking to people who've been here longer."

Ben's surprised to meet someone who's bored with the Nexus, but he's not quite sure what to make of Sherlock. The mysteries he's looking for clearly aren't the kind Ben thought up.

"I don't know what the point is. Assuming there even is a point. I guess I'm trying to make my own purpose here. It's the best I can do."

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

"I rarely do the talking. I expect others to talk. I use my senses and listen."

Sherlock doesn't care if his boredom surprises others or not. It is what it is. And if there's no crime here to solve there's not point to his existence here.

"Well. Good luck with that."

It's an odd mix of sincerity and dismissal.

[chiaro_oscuro]

"Thank you. Good luck to you, too."

Ben genuinely wishes Sherlock well in finding a place here. He doesn't doubt that plenty of newer arrival

"Well, I'll be on my way. I hope you find a way to get settled here, or back home, whichever one works best. I'm sure you'll be able to find your door somewhere. I'd go ask around in the Plaza."

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

Sherlock doesn't know what to do with that. The man seems... genuine in his well-wishing. Moreso than Sherlock was. People didn't like him, That was the rule. Why were they being nice to him here?

He shakes his head to clear his thoughts he looks up at the young man, offers a nod. "Thank you."

Manners. He doesn't believe in them, but felt compelled to use them this time.