grantuseyes: (knees)
Micolash, Host of the Nightmare ([personal profile] grantuseyes) wrote in [community profile] nexus_crossings2017-10-12 07:51 pm

This Mortal Coil

Micolash is in the Nexus Plaza, thankfully looking cleaner and smelling better than the last time he'd been asking questions. The cage is still in place, of course; why would it not be? He even looks a little healthier! Not much, as his skin is still sallow and gaunt over angular bones and features. But at least not as unsteady and proportionally more alert as well.

He's not quick to ask a question, however. The scholar is instead on a sofa, long legs pulled up onto the seat with him and folded in front of him. The rest of the sofa, normally big enough to seat three, is piled with books. Easily two dozen, if not more. A glance at the covers that are visible will show a selection of possibly recognizable names: Erwin Schrödinger. Charles Hartshorne. René Descartes. David Ray Griffin. The one he has open on his knees right now is a collection of Thomas Aquinas' summae and related theories.

The scholar is content to immerse himself in this reading for hours on end, but eventually, he seems to recall where he is. And that he can ask questions if the fancy takes him.

"What do you think. Or believe. Happens after death?"

Getting RIGHT to the heavy stuff, it appears.
thevictoriandetective: (Grin)

[personal profile] thevictoriandetective 2017-10-22 01:08 am (UTC)(link)
Sherlock doesn't seemed phased by the intensity, in fact, he sees it as a challenge.

He grins, and his nose twitches slightly, not unlike that of a mouse.

"Prove it."
thevictoriandetective: (My thinks go in here)

[personal profile] thevictoriandetective 2017-10-22 04:59 am (UTC)(link)
"Naturally," Sherlock grinned wider, this was an amusement and he was ever so bored.

"But, for argument's sake, let's pretend I believe you. How, in fact, did you return from the dead? Twice even?"
thevictoriandetective: (Smartness)

[personal profile] thevictoriandetective 2017-10-23 09:54 am (UTC)(link)
"Yes," he said simply.

He listens intently as the other speaks, his eyes occasionally flicking back and forth, possibly deducing, possibly filing away information in his own mind and only half-listening, as he sits back and places his hands together under his chin, fingertips pressed together tightly.

This goes on for a few long moments even after the other one finishes his thought. Sherlock was either frozen, or completely lost in thought.

Then suddenly, he burst into activity again, leaning forward, hands pressed tightly to his worn trousers. "So in effect, you died, and that form was also destroyed? Then how did you end up here?"
thevictoriandetective: (Grin)

[personal profile] thevictoriandetective 2017-10-23 10:39 am (UTC)(link)
Sherlock seems fully invested now. His gaze doesn't waver, but a grin creeps across his face.

"Now that's interesting."

He gets up, walking closer to the other man. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, nose twitching, trying to catch a scent.

"Are you still alive, in the biological sense, here? Blood, heartbeat, cellular division, what have you?"
thevictoriandetective: (Beautiful Decay)

[personal profile] thevictoriandetective 2017-10-23 10:59 am (UTC)(link)
Generally unpleasant scents all around, save for the library books. Something...unfamiliar and unsettling, and something familiar and equally unsettling. Cat. Ugh.

"Completely understandable, biological needs would seem base and superfluous after an experience such as that.." He's not being sarcastic, his disgust is equally genuine. "Sleeping and eating are tedious enterprises, and really ought to be done away with if one can help it. I can only imagine what someone who's experienced an existence beyond a mortal body would be loathe to return to it."
Edited 2017-10-23 11:00 (UTC)
thevictoriandetective: (Smartness)

[personal profile] thevictoriandetective 2017-10-24 10:58 pm (UTC)(link)
Atrocious, getting all those little cat hairs all over oneself. He'd never understand anyone's fascination with those horrible beasts. Dogs were the far superior pet.

Sherlock smirks, the other man's reactions continue to interest and amuse him. "The body is just transport. Food and sleep are but fuel, though I tend to not bother with either when I am on a case. Bad for brain work."

A careless shrug. "Most people are idiots."
thevictoriandetective: (Deep waters)

[personal profile] thevictoriandetective 2017-10-25 12:30 am (UTC)(link)
God, is that how people see him when he's delighted about a case? Not that he cared so much what people thought, but he wondered if he too was that...bouncy.

John would probably say yes.

But he's pleased at least someone around here--or back home--or elsewhere--has actual sense. "Indeed. Digestion slows me down and takes valuable energy and resources and blood that can be used for more important things, like thinking. And sleep is a waste of time in and of itself." Of course, the detective did sleep, or more like crash, once a case was over, and he didn't mind sleeping in if nothing was on.

Still, it would do to get more information from this man who had sense, and yet, walked around with a cage on his head.

"What is your name?"
thevictoriandetective: (Butterfly)

[personal profile] thevictoriandetective 2017-10-25 02:44 am (UTC)(link)
The practice and skill in which he maneuvers with the cage is not missed. Sherlock doesn't mention it for now, but it goes down in his mental notes. He doesn't shy away from the handshake either, meeting it with a firm grip before releasing.

"Surely there's a story behind that," Sherlock smirked, in references to those odd names. His voice indicates he's just humoring him, but information was information, even if it was...well, wild. "I'm Sherlock Holmes."
thevictoriandetective: (Live it love it kill for it)

[personal profile] thevictoriandetective 2017-10-25 04:10 am (UTC)(link)
Sherlock is honestly not expecting anywhere near this reaction, so he fails to respond quickly enough, his wrist has now been grabbed. He tugs, instantly on alert, his eyes wide. The scent of cat isn't helping.

"Beast?! Ashlynn? I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."

The word bristled on his lips. The body was transport, yes, but the body was also much better when human and not a rodent. He hated being called what he was.

How did this man know what he was?

There was something wrong in his memory palace. A whole wing, collapsed. Debris everywhere. He knew he'd been missing something, he just didn't know what. And he could not trust a single person here.
thevictoriandetective: (Your opinion is invalid)

[personal profile] thevictoriandetective 2017-10-26 01:14 am (UTC)(link)
No--no, this was not--blast his infernal grip--Sherlock tugged at it again, knowing he could only resort to so much because of the stupid anti-violence field. He would be trapped, in effect, if he could not get him to release him, lest he shift slightly to escape--

The detective's eyes widened--

"What friend? I haven't the foggiest, and you're spouting off nonsense, let GO!"

He wasn't going to put himself in a vulnerable position--if he shifts fully, right here and now, he could easily be captured, put in a cage, anything--
thevictoriandetective: (Beautiful Decay)

>:D

[personal profile] thevictoriandetective 2017-10-30 11:38 am (UTC)(link)
[Sherlock wrenches free the moment he can, the moment he feels his grip loosen. He takes several steps back, only the mystery of it all--his own mystery--keeps him from fully bolting. He's not one to run from danger--far from, despite his ridiculous instincts, he revels in getting into the most wonderful kinds of trouble--but he's also not an idiot, and random caged-headed people latching into you would be cause for anyone's alarm.

However, in the excitement, his blue-green eyes seem to be...somehow, impossibly, completely overlaid with black. And a split second later, they are back to their normal hue. An unfortunate price to pay when things get heated on a good day, and ever since he'd found himself wandering this place, his control had withered away to near nothing. Instincts amplified. Bits of brown fur might be visible at the edge of his sleeves.]

Hmph.

I really don't know what you're taking about. I don't know anyone here.
thevictoriandetective: (Beautiful Decay)

Whoops! Sorry I totally botched the formatting on that previous reply lol

[personal profile] thevictoriandetective 2017-11-19 06:05 am (UTC)(link)
Sherlock readied himself for another retort, as interesting as a man with a cage around his head was, he definitely was more than confused and—

—he glances down at where the other man is pointing.

Damn. Sherlock quickly tries to pull his sleeves down but it’s mostly out of embarrassment now that the proverbial cat is out of the bag.

“I’m much more than a beast or a rodent.” It’s almost snarled. There was a reason he valued his intellect, his human side far more. He was a brain, the body was just transport, but being a mouse was a terrible means of transport, and his mind could easily turn to mush in the throes of instincts. Many people who knew what he was, once they discovered it, forgot about his intelligence and focused on what he was and what he could do. Plus, they could easily take advantage of him once they knew.