nexus_crossings | 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.

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[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.

Micolash looks at least marginally befuddled by the denial, his manic smile still present but his brows furrowed in confusion. His head turns to one side as his eyes flit up and down over Sherlock's form and increasing vexation.

"...No?" he finally says, the word not a question but a confused statement. "No." Firmer now, asserting it. "No, she said Sherlock was her friend. I am unquestionably certain of it." He won't add that she described a man that sounded a lot like himself, down to the same height, but it's still a detail the scholar retains. "And she said that he was a man who changed into a beast, a rodent, at will. And that is where my interest-"

The eyes returning to blue is what makes him notice they'd changed at all. Micolash stops mid-sentence when he spots it. And then his own starts to searching feverishly over Sherlock once again, skimming for clues, for changes.

...fur.

Micolash's arm jerks, as if he'd been tempted to grab the other man's wrist again. But he stops himself. And then just wordlessly points at the man's wrist instead, his smile reappearing. Oh, but he feels so wonderfully validated right now.

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.

"Oh, I say beast only as a...scientific classification! Hardly an insult." Well, barring the whole implications of how one becomes a beast in his understanding, and the overall sorry life choices they have to make to get there. "And I do agree! You are much more. The simple fact alone that you retain your wits, that you are capable of changing back to a man at will? It is remarkable! Cases such as these are unheard of!

"I do so hope when you've been reunited with your friend, Ashlynn, you will let me examine you in full? Oh but you must! The answers I could glean from you..."

This Mortal Coil

>:D

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

it's fine!