nexus_crossings | All roads lead back to Baker Street [OPEN]

The energy signature she was getting as she opened the door to what she thought would be the cafe.. was... not exactly what she expected. She sniffed the air and scan the area her one hand still firmly on the door as she looked for something to latch a string to.

Halfway in, her sneaker squeaked as she stopped suddenly. Her brow furling.

Sherlock whirled around and heard another door open when he saw a familiar face. Ever since he left Storybrooke he'd been...bad...about keeping in touch. London was far too interesting and there were far too many crimes for him to do much else than throw himself completely into his work.

This place...it must be connected somehow. He wasn't surprised with all the weirdness he'd lived through in Storybrooke, that it would catch up with him again someday.

Pity. He had been looking forward to the rest of his life without anything remotely magical.

"Ash?"

Her ears picked up at the sound and a smile light up on her face. "Squeaky?" She half asks half calls back.

Her wolf tail coming out under her long coat and wagging even as she sniffs the air warily. And tries the small red string to the door. Her heart pangs a little. Was this why he'd not been answering their various messages? Was he stuck here? They'd been worried.

But surely John would have said something.

"Ash!"

He makes a mental note of where his door is and goes running off towards the sound of her voice. He can feel his old senses coming back. Smell, hearing...yep, there was probably magic here. Or something like it. It was something of a relief, to be honest, though he didn't like what it meant. Still, it felt like he was wearing earmuffs and had cotton stuffed up his nose in the 'regular world' since he'd lived his whole life with heightened senses.

He came to a stop in front of her, that guilty look on his face. He still looked the same, through probably something was lost from living in the mundane world.

Despite herself she grins, and her tail wags more as she wiggles excitedly her wolf side coming out more. She'd missed one of her bestest best friends dearly.

She did her best to hold back an excited 'Eeeeh' like sound. Her nostrils quivering as she caught his scent getting stronger, closer. "Squeaaakky!" She starts with glee as she rushes to hug him tightly. Her tail wagging a mile a minute. "I missed you, squeaky." She murmurs lovingly as she nuzzles him.

Before sniffing and scanning & looking him over.

He'd smell like London, tobacco smoke, formaldehyde, and mice. The last scent was extremely faded, but getting stronger. He stiffened, he wasn't used to being rushed at, all the hard work everyone had done breaking down his walls in Storybrooke seemed to have been undone a bit.

But he lets her hug him, a genuine smile on his face that was only reserved for rare times such as these, with people he truly did care about. It was good to see her, though he wouldn't ever say it out loud.

He managed to pat her on the back. "Hello, Ash."

She blinks and twitches her nose before turning away to sneeze softly and blow her nose. smoke was not one of her favorite smells. She stiffens a little, in return but then eases a little as she looks up at him with a small smile.

"Ello." She murmurs warmly and eases back a little, "so how ya been?" She asks warmly her wolf ears poping out and going up. Before scanning the area around them suspiciously.

"I've been well," he said politely back. He smirked when she sneezed as he knew she probably smelled the smoke on him. Ah, old habits died hard. The pack of cigarettes in his pocket sat hidden within his coat.

"How are you? How's everyone?"

He frowned and looked around, wondering if there was anyone else from Storybrooke showing up. "Is this something from the town? What is this place? I thought there wasn't any magic in the regular world. I opened my door and ended up here."

"Good glad to hear it. " She murmurs and softly blows her nose with a tissue from her right side coat pocket. She hated being cold typically , course StoryBrooke had to be in Maine which though seaside wasn't know for it's super warm weather patterns. At least during certain times of the year..though they weren't as stuck in the town as they use to be. But when they did travel she did try to keep in contact with the others.

And not be gone for long stretches of time. What with trouble popping and cropping up like weeds. "oh doing well.. well ya know what's Storybrooke like..but..there's more breathing room now..in some ways. " She informs him.
She still didn't like the idea of folks going off into a world with very little to no magic..though that was good in some more dangerous cases.

"Um, well I thought it was a Cafe door by the signature but.." She waves a hand about the place. "clearly it's not..maybe..they're related in some way?" She half theorizes.

"your. Door, door?" She asks softly and pulls a mini notebook out and flips to a clean page before pulling out a pen. "well...there is the..whole belief thing..or if something imbued with magic and brought in or something. " She murmurs.

"221 B Baker Street," he said proudly. He was quite pleased he'd managed to get his old quarters back, though there needed to be quite the renovation. Still, the blue door had always been home.

He frowned. "You don't suppose someone did something to my door, do you?"

She blinks and then a small smile starts to grow on her face partly wistful. "Ah..That's my boy." She murmurs warmly and proudly her tail wagging. He'd finally done it she knew he'd been wanting to go back and do so for ages.

She twitches her nose and her brow furls. "..Mayhaps.. we probably should investigate, aye?" She half states half asks as she readies her wand in one hand and puts her notebook and pen back before pulling out her square pocket magnifier and a crystal.

"Perhaps you could...visit?" he knew how tied to Storybrooke they were but London wasn't that far away, plus if this place was some sort of...portal deal it would be that much easier to go back and forth.

"Its the only course of action at this point. My door's over here," he motioned his head. "Come on."

She smiles softly, "I'd like that. " she murmurs softly and warmly. Her tail wagging. "Perhaps sometime in the coming weeks.. if things stay.. calm. " she murmurs.

She nods and slightly hums in agreement. "Right behind ya. " she murmurs warmly trotting over toward his side her legs weren't nearly as long as his through there was about a nine to ten inches difference. Through he and her husband where nearly exactly the same height. They had bit of a different tread. Through both of the dear gents had a regal bearing.

"Hopefully they will," he replied back.

It wasn't too far to his door. It stood there, looking exactly as if it had been plucked right from the flat, right from the street itself.

"That's really something, isn't it?" he blinked.

"Aye, here's hoping. " she murmurs softly.

She padded along next to him and offers him her slightly bent arm if he wanted to stroll that way. Uncertain about how he felt about doing so at the moment.

She blinks rapidly taking that in and scanning as they got closer. "Aye it is. " she murmurs once again reminded of the magical cafe with many doors or other such places she'd heard of etc. There we supposed magic halls of mirrors that did the same. Jefferson's hat only had a handful of such for example.

Edited (Mis spell) 2016-12-04 19:07 (UTC)

"Should we be worried?" he said, taking her arm as they looked around. He didn't think anything of it. But his worry about the doors and this general weirdness was first in his mind. It did remind him of Jefferson's hat, though, but the inside of his hat certainly didn't look like this, even with all its doors.

She hums, and continues scanning in various ways. "well..the place seems sturdy..and full of energy." She replies softly as she glances half over her shoulder at him. "like I said it's kinda like that..cafe I told you about...but much much bigger.." She sates and swallows softly rubbing the red string she tied round her right wrist slightly.

She was reminded of the hat as well. could each of these door be a realm of some sort or part of one? she wondered..After all there was two doors to the earth the Dark curse had sent them too as far as they knew. She wracked her brain as she tried to recall if she'd read or heard anything about such a place. She blinked nothing in the design leaped out at her.

"What sort of energy?" he asked, curious. "Any ill vibes you are getting?"

Cafe. Maybe there were more of these places out there. Storybrooke was a nexus of its own, in a way. It would make sense that it allowed a connection to their own world...at least the current world they lived in. Still, the London he was living in now shouldn't be anything but ordinary, it was less surprising that Ash got in through Storybrooke. Unless the 'Land Without Magic' had far more secrets to discover.

"Hmm," she hums softly and slightly tilts her head slightly sniffing the air and seeing what she could pick up that and other ways/senses. If she could.
Sometimes things and places could be finicky.
Or, as temperamental and mercurial as a certain, Great Mouse Dectective she knew , even. She thought glancing at him sideways half in thought half comparing the auras of the place with a sentient being. "Well.. there kinda odd but Iam not getting anything malicious or of ill intent in the place itself." She informs him

Sherlock is met with a wave from Nick who is hanging out in the plaza. "You look a bit lost." He is quick to point out, as he stands there and reaches a hand up to tilt his hat upwards to allow him to get a better look at the new arrival. The old mechanical detective lowers his hand, and he reaches into the pocket of his tattered trench coat to reach for a cigarette.

"Don't worry, I can try and answer all the questions you have about this place. Or at least I can try." Nick places the cigarette in his mouth, and he reaches into his pocket once more to grab hold of a rusty Zippo and he lights up.

Sherlock does a double-take at the mechanical detective. Either his eyes are playing tricks on him or...

"Very well," he said cautiously, tentatively. "What exactly is this place? And do you have another one of those?"

He pointed to the cigarette. Forget trying to quit, what with the shock of this place, he needed one, right now.

"This place is called The Nexus; it is a bit of a strange place that I'm trying to figure out myself." Nick doesn't seem the least bit bothered by the double take, while he slips his free hand into his pocket and he pulls out a pack of Gray Turtle cigarettes that he brought with him from home. The packaging is crumbled, and the cigarettes themselves are stale. It isn't as if Nick seems to notice the taste, and it simply is an old habit of his.

He hands the cigarettes out to Sherlock, and with the cigarette in his free hand going into his mouth he digs out the old lighter. "But this place is a bit of a gateway between different worlds and dimensions. I know, I know, it sounds like I'm trying to describe an old science fiction movie. And even I was taken back by the whole idea of being able to move between worlds."

The old detective seems to grumble a little under his breath, with the cigarette dangling between his plastic lips. "...But all and all, this place isn't half bad."

"Thank you."

He takes one and sticks it in his mouth. Sherlock makes a face at the taste of the cigarette, but beggars can't be choosers, and he holds it above the lighter.

"Well, when one eliminates the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be true."

But the sound in his voice was wavering slightly, like he couldn't quite believe it was true. He half expected it all to be a dream, but there was a logical consistency that spoke of reality far more than it did a dream.

It is amazing how a two hundred year old cigarette can taste, especially one that survived nuclear war. And most people of The Commonwealth don't seem to mind the flavor. And not being able to breath, or puff on the cigarette Nick just lets the cigarette dangle from his lip.

"Let me guess, you want to figure out how to get back to where it was you came. But why bother? That's unless you've got something that is important to tend with back home." He goes to remove the cigarette from his mouth, and he rests it between his two metal fingers.

The old mechanical detective can keep on going, but even he enjoys time away from helping out the citizens of The Commonwealth. And at times helping with things here in The Nexus. "Name's Nick by the way."

The cigarette lights and Sherlock takes a deep drag, closing his eyes a moment. He hadn't had a proper smoke in some time and it was just so...nice. Even with the weird taste.

"I do, actually. Like a life," Sherlock shot back. Free cigarette aside, he was irritated by that line of thinking. And slightly frightened by it.

"Sherlock Holmes."

"Nice to meet you, Mister Holmes. If you got any other questions about this place feel free to ask." Nick reaches for his fedora and lifts it from his hairless head. "And I'll do my best to answer them."

"So where is it you're from?" He asks while putting his hat back down on his head, and he reaches to remove the smoldering cigarette from his lip. "And what is so good about this place and life of yours that you have to get back to it?"

He looks down at the cigarette and he flicks it to the ground, and he quickly snuffs it out on the ground.

He took another drag, still trying to deduce what he could from the...odd...person. Was he a robot? Wasn't that impossible? Unless technology had taken quite a leap when he wasn't paying attention...

"London," he said after he blew out more smoke. "I've got cases to solve, obviously. Plus my...colleagues are there, and they'd be lost without me."

Nick's dirty and tattered trench coat and his plastic skin is missing in some places. Though if he is a robot, Nick doesn't exactly fit the mold for a traditional robot even for his own home universe. He is way too cheeky and has just too much sass for that. But yes, technology has taken one hell of a leap in comparison to modern day London.

And even then, Nick wonders what became of the London in his home universe, and he suspects it looks no better than the cities in the United States.

"I've read about London. But..." Nick's interest perks up, as does his voice at the mention of Sherlock having cases to solve. "...you'll have to tell me about these cases of yours. And I'm sure your colleagues will do just fine without you."

You want logical consistency?

What about the slim man in the 1940s hand me down threadbare suit and slacks buying coffee from what can only be described as a human sized bidepal lizard woman with a little cart she's pushing through the plaza?

Or how said man out of time reaches for his very modern Starkphone and replies to a text sent to him by one of his friends before he feels eyes on him and looks up at the man with a thoughtful frown.

"Good morning. Shaayhee's got some of the best coffee in the Plaza, if you haven't tried it yet." Gesturing to the Argonian woman he'd just got done paying while he clutches his own cup to keep his bony fingers warm.

Annnnd there's the weirdness.

Sherlock stares, not even properly deducing, he just stares, at the sight. That..was either very clever costuming or that was an actual lizard woman. Considering the point of anyone to do all this just to trick him only served to cement the fact that this was, in all probability, likely very real.

"I'm sure," he said dryly. But the strange old fashioned blond man was at least talking to him. He frowned and observed his state of dress and appearance, wondering what he could deduce from them.

"What is this place exactly?"

Steve rubs at the side of his nose and nods sympathetically. He gets that question a lot, especially in the plaza. The man is definitely probably form Earth, judging by his British accent. Looks to be one of those modern sorts though.

"It's a meeting point between worlds. Which sounds crazy, I know. It's kinda like the subway station really. People come and go from all different places but for a little while, we're all stuck here together whether we're from Brooklyn or Manhattan or New Jersey."

He pauses to take a sip of his coffee and makes a happy little sigh at the warmth it gives.

"Do you want a tour? I've been here a while so I kind of know my way around."

Or London, for that matter.

"Yes, actually."

He didn't seem to be the type to take advantage, everything about him screamed...earnest. Sherlock's ice blue eyes flicked back and forth as he took in his appearance. Clothes were hand-me-downs, belonging to someone...close to him. The clothes were well cared for, moreso than one would assume cast-off clothing would be from say, a thrift store.

Old fashioned though. He really did look like a young, mini grandpa. Sherlock imagined he must be bullied relentlessly, even without his curious style. The detective ought to know, he'd suffered similarly in school, before he too shot up in height and learned how to box.

It was odd, because he was also reading military, even though he didn't look like he was particularly fit. Despite his physical features, his level of grooming, posture, and haircut was easily categorized as military.

If Sherlock didn't know any better, and he didn't, and if he was telling the truth--and he had no reason to believe he wasn't--this curious fellow might possibly be from the past. Shoes really gave that away, too. Late 30's or early 40's, World War II era. It would make sense how he managed to get into the military.

"Japan or Germany?" Sherlock ventured a moment later.

Oh, good. This was one of the friendly ones. Steve's smile is warm sunshine and apple pie sincere as he inclines his head toward one of the many winding roads leading through the plaza.

"I'm Steve, by the way. Been here for a year and a half give or take. Time is weird here, so I've no idea how long it's been back...back home." He clears his throat and sips at his coffee. Gestures to the many doors of varying sizes and makes. "We're in the Plaza now, it's the central point of the Nexus. Most folks arrive here in some fashion. Walking through a door, or on some occasions, more violently."

He turns back to the taller man, looking up so he can meet the other's gaze. His head is turned slightly (hearing trouble in his left ear from a nasty infection) when he talks.

"You'll want to remember where your door i--ah? Sorry?" The sudden question throws Steve off. Blue eyes shifting from left to right as Steve frantically tries to put together what the man means by his question. "We're not either, I don't think. Though I've met a German soldier and a Japanese police officer since I've been here."

"World War Two. You're a soldier or...you really want to be one," said Sherlock, furrowing his brows. "I was asking if you're fighting against Germany or Japan."

It was something how quickly Sherlock adapted to the concept of traveling through worlds, though he was still under the kind this could be a dream. Still, his mind worked at lightning speed and it was an easy deduction to make in a place with many worlds having access to it.

Hmm, he's been here for some time. "One can go back and forth, correct? Or are we trapped here?" He was just saying something about remembering where ones door was.

"...Oh."

Steve looks down at his clothes. Hands. Ponders how exactly this man could possibly know something like that for a few seconds. Does he recognize Steve too? He gets that a lot. At least he's not asking Steve what's wrong with him. Steve sighs slightly, then shrugs.

"Wanted to be, didn't make the cut." Bucky was definitely over there by now. on the German front. Steve tries not to wonder if he's okay. It kills him to think about, because, well...

"Most folks can go back and forth at will, yeah." Steve just isn't one of them.

Edited 2016-12-14 19:41 (UTC)

"Well, it's for the best, I'm sure," Sherlock said, not realizing he might be offending Steve by saying that. "At least you won't get killed out there." He actually means well, really.

"And how does that work, exactly? How does any of this work?" There was an excitement in his words, from someone who enjoyed mysteries and the unknown.

It does make Steve glower for a small moment. He wanted to make a difference. Wanted to do his part. Even if he's not some sort of walking symbol like he's supposed to be. Like other versions of him most certainly are.

Steve isn't useless.

"....I don't know." The answer is honest but carries a lot of weight. "I can't go back. It doesn't work for me."

All roads lead back to Baker Street [OPEN]

Something old ,something new

Re: Something old ,something new

Re: Something old ,something new

Re: Something old ,something new

Re: Something old ,something new

Re: Something old ,something new

Re: Something old ,something new

Re: Something old ,something new

Re: Something old ,something new

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Re: Something old ,something new

Re: Something old ,something new

Re: Something old ,something new

Re: Something old ,something new

Re: Something old ,something new

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Re: Something old ,something new

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