The Adventure of the Ximilia Station: Inbox

[astudyinviolet]

// S.H.

TEXT • AUDIO • VIDEO

XIMILIA

Comments

cw: Victorian Era mental illness topics and Cthulhu-Lovecraftian madness

[astudyinviolet]

[[ ooc: Continued from here ]]

I remain, to despite and to spite... but I'm cracking, Mikotoba. I am getting worse, and Watson... he has other men to save.

Voice. | ... sometime after the mission, time is loosey goosey

[chilloutdickwad]

Sherlock Holmes, I am the T-800, a fellow crewmember aboard the Ximilia.

John Watson has requested I verify your well-being, with the clarification that trouble 'tends to gravitate toward you'.

[astudyinviolet]

[ Sherlock hadn't expected this, and for the briefest of moments, he confuses which John Watson T-800 is referring to. Then, Sherlock catches (and chastises) himself for his error. His Watson didn't appear on the station like some of the new faces (to him). ]

I only have minor scrapes and bruises.

[ Mentally... Sherlock feels a wreck and trying to regain an image of stability (and then mistletoe magic kicks in and helps a lot in that way). ]

Dr. Watson is well, I take it?

[chilloutdickwad]

Correct. I assisted him in finding a safe location during the mission.

[The T-800 is, as always, terribly stiff and expressionless.

The pinnacle of a fun conversationalist.]

There are no lingering effects from the orb's influence?

[astudyinviolet]

[ Sherlock feels guilty for not checking in on Watson, but he also knows, fears that he wouldn't have been any help in the condition he had been. ]

No, none at all.

[ He's not feeling murderous towards the rest of the crew, at least. Sherlock's only suffering his more usual mental state and tumultuous emotions. When will the crew realize the truth? That I am of no use to anyone? ]

Thank you for seeing to his safety.

[chilloutdickwad]

The protection of this crew is my primary objective.

I serve little other purpose here, other than the collection of the fragmented orbs.

[astudyinviolet]

That's all? What will you do once the last orb is collected?

text, before the final mission

[softshoes]

Good morning, Holmes. When you have a moment, could you please meet me in the simulation room?

text | un: S.H.

[astudyinviolet]

[ What. ]

I am available. I shall be there shortly.

[ He arrives with a large cup of coffee in his hands. Yup, Sherlock's still running on caffeine. ]

Mikotoba?

[chilloutdickwad]

There is little other meaning to my existence here.

Once the final orb is collected, I will either request my complete destruction, or to be kept maintained aboard the Ximilia, away from my timeline.

[astudyinviolet]

You wish to avoid going home at all costs, even if that cost is your life.

[ It's both a statement and a question. What circumstances brings that about? ]

[softshoes]

[It'd been a stressful last mission and an eventful final holiday on the station. Between all of that, he'd almost forgotten that Sholmes' birthday was coming up. And if it were Sholmes' birthday, well...]

Ah, there you are.

[He greets him with a smile outside the doors of the simulation room.]

Er... I'm sorry if it's presumptuous of me, but... [Yujin ducks his head in humble apology.] Am I right to assume that you and my partner share a birthday? If it isn't, well, we can call this a late Christmas gift, I suppose...

[He's stalling. He has no idea if he got the simulation room to work right, oops.]

[astudyinviolet]

[ Stressful is one way to describe what that mission was. Sherlock feels the lack of the mistletoe magic not knowing he had been under any influence to begin with. It's a shame no one could just hide a sprig of mistletoe in his waistcoat. The magic of Christmas could war against the madness of Cthulhu.

Sherlock's confusion at Mikotoba's nervous brightness is evident all over his face, and it takes a moment for him to understand what Mikotoba is talking about. He can only blame his exhaustion for part of that. ]

Hm, I suppose that could be possible as we share other similarities. Was he born the 6th of January, 1859?

[ Honestly, Sherlock isn't exactly sure what day its supposed to be on the station even if there were Christmas like celebrations going on. Should he consider himself a year older? ]

But why do you feel the need to give me a gift? I'm not Sholmes, and I didn't give you anything for Christmas.

[ He's going to have to think of something for Mikotoba. And then for Dr. Watson because it feels wrong to give one something and not the other. He can only play favorites if his own Watson is involved. ]

[chilloutdickwad]

Correct.

My existence in my timeline could result in a secondary apocalypse for humanity.

[It's one hell of an answer to that statement-question, but he says it very simply.]

[astudyinviolet]

[ That... would do it, and T-800 has made peace with it, judging by his response. ]

Your reason for staying is understandable then.

[chilloutdickwad]

It would be the most logical choice.

I have no other given purpose at this point, so I've made an effort to create a new one aboard this station.

[astudyinviolet]

That is one benefit of having people from many different backgrounds here. You can gather data one what others do.

[ Some of them must have ideas on what could be a purpose for someone who could cause an apocalypse for just existing. ]

[chilloutdickwad]

... I believe humans call it 'socializing'.

[softshoes]

Then I was correct. [There'd been enough similarities that he'd have been surprised if the shared birthday had not been the case.] The same day, but not the year. Sholmes was born in the 60's if I'm not mistaken.

As for the gift, well. [A sheepish smile.] It's not a material item, so don't trouble yourself over giving me anything back. I... simply realized we may not have very much more time together, so. I thought this might be nice.

[And with that, he ushers Holmes through the sliding metal doors of the simulation room. Inside are not the cold metal of the ship, but the surroundings of some very familiar rooms-- though they're a little different from what Holmes probably remembers.]

A taste of home, before you actually return.

[astudyinviolet]

Yes, well... I find the use of that particular word to involve more tiring frivolities and less information.

[ Give Sherlock a monograph, a chemistry set, or a cadaver over having to make aimless small talk with many people. ]

[astudyinviolet]

[ The 60's? Time continues to be a mystery on this station, and he still manages to feel too young and yet somehow too old.

Sherlock steps in, and his grey eyes dart over the scene before him as if he was looking for clues at a crime scene. He had no idea that the simulation room could be used in such a manner. Could he recreate the various scenes of his case? Or... home... as Mikotoba has? If he could call any place home, 221B Baker Street would be the closest.

However, this place before him? There are a few items in common: a violin, a chemistry set, a skull, piles of books and papers, but those are less seeming like home and more like that which could be dismissed as coincides. ]

I don't recognize anyth...

[ Then his gaze falls on the "VR" done in bullet holes on the wall. ]

I did that with darts in our room when I was ten in Cordona.

[ "Our room" in this case was his and Jon's room. ]

When I went back there, I thought how I should recreate it with bullets. I never did, and now, I don't feel the need to be patriotic or patriotic in that fashion.

[ When Mycroft's the Queen's Best Boy, the ability to separate the two is difficult. ]

[chilloutdickwad]

Agreed. However, some humans seem disinterested if they're questioned too directly.

I have attempted smiling as well, but have been informed my smile is 'off-putting'.

[softshoes]

[Yujin has had plenty of time with the details of 221B while recreating it. Instead of taking all of it in again, his eyes go straight to Holmes, watching the younger man's expression and anticipating a reaction. Maybe it's too forward, or he's comparing him to his own partner too much again, or the rooms look completely different... in fact, just as Holmes begins to say he doesn't recognize the place, Yujin's beginning to worry this was a mistake.

Fortunately, Holmes recognizes something. Those old bullet holes, of all things. At least Sholmes' impulsivity had paid off for something.]

Sholmes was eighteen. [With an amused huff, Yujin folds his arms over his chest, staring up at the "VR" himself.] It's for the better, if you ask me. The bullet holes don't add very much to the appearance, nor the atmosphere, of the room.

[Nor does the clutter, here and there. But he'd wanted to keep it accurate-- no secrets, or smoothing anything over, for Holmes' sake to be had here-- so Sholmes' messy desk and paperwork have stayed.

Almost instinctively, Yujin takes a seat in his old chair by the hearth. There's a rollicking fire behind the grate, and a pot of sweet-smelling tea atop the trunk used for a coffee table.]

Come, have a seat, Holmes. Once we set out on the next mission, I'm not sure when we'll be able to have a conversation like this again.

[astudyinviolet]

[ If Mikotoba sits in the seat on the left while facing the fire, Sherlock will give a small look of "you're in my spot" before taking his own seat. (Despite his room being on the right and Watson's on the left and their desks being on the same sides, their chairs by the fire are the opposite.) ]

I suppose our time is running short. What did you wish to speak of?

[ There is so much light in this room. Is this really the same dreary London? ]

[astudyinviolet]

Smiling is more than moving the mouth. The eyes, brows, how your head is orientated all play into a convincing smile.

[chilloutdickwad]

... The eyes and brows.

[His eyebrows start to move rather mechanically, in perfect synchrony.

His lips pull at the same time into a very questionable smile that says 'I do not know how to fucking smile'.]

[astudyinviolet]

[ He must not laugh. He must not laugh. ]

Try again with less severity. You do not need to stretch your features to their limits. For your presence, a subtler smile without showing your teeth would fit you better and seem more natural.

[chilloutdickwad]

... A subtler smile would be more natural.

[He proceeds to twitch like a malfunctioning robot -- but as the twitch subsides, he appears to have something... a little more natural, actually. Granted, it looks like he's up to something, but it's certainly better.]

[astudyinviolet]

[ He is still attempting to not laugh lest he discourage T-800. ]

That is a marked improvement. Practice with slight variations to that and see how others react. You'll also want to experiment with how long you hold that smile. Humans will become uneasy if you hold the same exact expression without change for long periods of time.

[chilloutdickwad]

Understood. No problemo.

[Thanks, John Connor.]

Would specifying which emotion I'm conveying verbally help?

[astudyinviolet]

I believe it would. Straight and honest communication does wonders for conveying meaning.

1/2

[chilloutdickwad]

I see.

I'm satisfied with this answer.

[STRAIGHT AND HONEST COMMUNICATION.]

[chilloutdickwad]

[... And one more attempt at smiling follows to solidify his contentment.]

Unsent letter written during the Amaryllis Grove Mission

[astudyinviolet]

[[ ooc: Sticking this here for posterity and for others to see Sherry's unintentional love letter to his Watson. ]]

To my dear John Watson,

I write in hope that my words somehow reach you though far apart we are. I find myself deeply missing your presence. Others here remind me so much of you, but they are not you. They are in the same play performed by other actors and adapted by another director. The familiar feels wrong for they are not the local production I have known this past year. They are not who I've begun to depend on in more ways than you know. Or maybe you do but your kind heart keeps you from saying so to spare my ego.

By now you're aware that I hold very few in confidence. It has not been by design but the result of my solitary life. My reality is that no one stays by me. Even someone I cherished above all else hurt and left me. Why do I have your trust, dare I say, your attention? All prior cases, all previous evidence in my life has shown me to expect the worst to come.

Yet, my mother taught me that "Even the most chaotic miracle becomes sequential when you take a closer look." The truth lies in the details. I must understand. If I concentrate solely on you, what do I see? Someone with courage and kindness, loyalty and humility. You know when to be serious and when to let humor take hold. Even if you do not understand my thoughts, you are patient towards my mind and moods. Am I someone you are trying to save? Are you doing so because you're a doctor? Is it that pattern I see in our world and beyond? Is there a more personal reason?

And if I think about myself in relation to you… I cry out for you in my wakeful nightmares when sharp edges rend my flesh, when my bones break upon stone, when I'm devoured or strangled by revolting horrors. I hear you call my name as you shine through tenebrous waters to lead me back to the surface above. You are my conductor of light, chasing away the storm clouds which rob my vision.

Those are the sequential details; there must be some reason for your continued companionship. Can I truly stand on the same stage as you in the role given to me without darkening your luminous performance? Are you a miracle in my chaotic existence? What am I to understand with the data I have?

My condition worsens as you've no doubt noticed, and you know little of the devils which plague me. Would you wish to have me still at this case's end? I wish I could have your reply. Because, if you still wanted associate with me, I would forsake my chance of a future to remain by your side, and believe me that I would be,

Very sincerely yours,
Sherlock Holmes

[astudyinviolet]

Well done. Use your new skills to the fullest.

[ For starting out in a very bad mood, Sherlock is now feeling a little better. ]