thoughtformed | █ ００１█ｔｅｘｔ

NJVOqmQhMzkhJVzOEokScATmkwP96SExNjAhD6XU1ix0hrlJidFxXDWuHFBUpAHzOkI8xmbEEbkjZBNHZv3hwBNpdhrHR5y/SH5JgSExMSGo2xHSrqXMzKmYIyEzNCF2LQVFpeJuFESLnQ8F94vp20M2Ahy51TXv+sGWXMYg6oT3GeAybA==

P8jY00cqfr7BpNewtatEeUPHITEwITv5bJBhUHdN1/hDzb0Ui3DgUNHbju16/NNvSOg+

[ and then ]

Multiple universes might be inevitable when there's fiction involved.
Sorry.

a1FIWEiwi4u9lXdU7nXUEhO4jVXUITAhgiP/kRMhMTIhOSE5IVTGnUUsROQydx2BdDqTBlnhyb4SqFjmzoROfD9fffMTRszL4dQmikbFvB9bcy72YXPAE8XePCEwIa3OumF7ICEzOSH3F9ZkjGQuYYaf1FS8Y8IjwWZOFYsfhJq6HPVru69iMMurKMAS62TQ3crYWwQS2yEzMyEw1iO8CPpZvBJH0toD/FyVspY+11zNG3HCE5r8p9HeMchFzgRmqunBXNghOSFjpKbvBexefJPRKExyINPxITExIQ==

[ This is Sherlock's brain: precise, logical, systematic. This is what is happening right now: LJIDRGFCHVJBNKLJJIUYF. Ending result: shutting down. ]

jmvcr9YTejk=
aBUhOSFPITEzIZrdITE2MCGMv+oyKJbbmTZAykVU6tZr8JeunrzEGVIEZUXPzFQRUKbjBUdhaKhPS8WV74FSITExIVN/TIqFnDhF1WC0qsp1FCExMCHwROUGJnHChWJZcN17x8V3tTnN8oPo2O2dgyoV06EI7tdxIyEzNCGTgpzV3y9jD+ARFyEzMyFF+iR3oSEwIej1Zh8hMTEhvnpQlkO1l3rDokwc2lc0lU6qZCEzOSElXPVFd+VAweWwGRCXMv/eowO73N0C4Ek3gqUG+86aGTQhMzkhrbSbITM5Ia695H4hMTYwIfZlR5WDveTORrZ+Euw8Tg==

[ Coulson's just flattered Sherlock knew who he was. Poor Sherlock's brain. ]

[ he needed to make a private encryption first. It's not perfect, but good enough for now. When he does, the message is coordinates . ]

[ Coordinates from Sherlock Holmes. How can you resist?
Depending on if Sherlock is there first or not the next text would be: 'How do you take your coffee?' so it could get ordered before he gets there. ]

[ He's there, already. It wasn't far and he needed coffee to hammer down any anxiety he was beginning to feel. When Sherlock heard the welcoming speech he brushed it off. It was a dream. The bandage on his hand told him it was not a dream; pain did not wake him up again. He was here on New Moore, an island that drown two years ago, and a handful of... fictional characters.

Hard to believe if it wasn't for the striking resemblance Phil Coulson had with Clark Gregg. You know, out of everything he dabbled in Acid wasn't one of them. Strange, really. ]

Black, and painful amounts of sugar. [ he looks up at the man from the booth. ] If you were wondering.

[ Sherlock Holmes is sitting in a booth and there's a split second where Coulson's mind is filled with slight disappointment when noting that the man he's meeting is not wearing a deerstalker, however unlikely he knew it was. He's a bit old fashioned. What a shame a modern Sherlock doesn't have the same fashion sense.

Then little mental notes. Sherlock looks on edge. Hand bandage. He can use that 15% off coupon he has in his wallet to get pie. Pie would be amazing right now but it had to have been sitting there...

He slides across from him, smiling politely ] Always did like painful amounts of sugar myself. Teeth-rotting goodness mixed with the caffeine makes it hard to not be alert.

[ Very modern. Old name, he knows. Father dearest had a bit of a thing for the old ways, potentially why Sherlock was so adamant about doing things the new ways.

He's very on edge. It's displayed through stimming. Just his hands, mind. Fists made, loose. Thumbs circling over his pointer over and over until one needed to wrap around the cup. ]

Supplementary enough. [ He's watching. Every tic, every detail. He brands the clothing, compartments the facial features, looks for anything at all that might be different. Gathers data, lodges it away. He doesn't know what to make of this. It's new, and illogical. ]

Find yourself in need of great amounts of alertness, here?

[ He motions to get a coffee for himself from someone that works there casually, there's recognition. He's in there a lot. They don't ask and make sure there's more sugar for the booth.

He folds his hands in front of him after taking a sip and idly smoothing out his tie. He keeps watching him but not overtly. He hasn't had coffee with the one that's been here (note to self: coffee with every sherlock. watson coffee might be more enjoyable though) but there's things he could note. This one's more urban, for example. Anything else he's noting he'll keep to himself. ]

No more than I'd usually be.

[ Has reputation. The girls don't move with a sense of fear they move with service toward someone that they like. Suppose that was in character. Coulson was a rather good man if he remembered right.

Things you watch on the telly when you're testing your ability to retain information while immersed in various types at once. Bit of a thing for Holmes.

His hands finally stop their motion, but he adverts eye contact. Brings his cup to his lap and looks to in instead. Still trying to process... everything. ]

No large army of alians to defend against judging from the welfare of our streets, if you'd allow me to assume.

Depends on the month. I heard there was an alien invasion once but I missed it.

[ He wants to compare something about the place to 'normal' for him but that's not even a word in his vocabulary. Normal is armored genius philanthropists racing fighter jets. Regular non-operatives and attractive cellists don't process that as easily. It's weird. They'd rather not. Mister Holmes here has a lot on his plate. The uneasiness makes perfect sense. "Fictional" multiversal shenanigans and someone with the same name as you--- on top of being kidnapped to the place -- on top of what he was dealing with before coming. ]

Last week everyone was superheroes, in a way. It was very exciting. [ for him it was just 'November.' He's sympathetic ] It takes some getting used to.

Edited 2012-12-03 04:50 (UTC)

If I remember correctly, your world is well populated with superhuman individuals. How is something from your perception of normal exciting?

More to the point, though. Do things like this happen frequently? [ He eyes the woman who comes by to ask if all was right but says nothing. It wasn't a question that was worth much in being answered. He's just moody, see.

The cup is placed back on the table once he finished it and he goes to stacking the pile of small milks. After a moment he adds in: ] and what do you know of the current judicial system, if I may ask.

That's a good question. [ He takes a sip of the coffee. ] Normal can be exciting.

Things seem to work in a pattern. I'd say at least once a month, people may think they're something they previously were not and act accordingly and have all the benefits of it. [ The woman gets a little smile from him and he tells her everything's fine when Sherlock doesn't say a word. No need to take it out on the staff. ]

It's standard laws apply, standard jails. The system appears simplified for convenience though. Things appear to get decided by the police department's chief and arresting officers, with the court system being more or less cut out of the picture depending. Nobody's questioned it.

[ his fingers stop their stacking and rearranging when Coulson mentions how no one has questioned the structure of the law here. His eyes meet the man's again and there's a simple dip and roll of his chin. ]

Do you question it?

[ The cup gets placed down and his hands are folded in front of him once more. He bites the inside of his cheek once then keeps a typical deadpanned expression. ]

It's unorthodox, structurally unsound, and the chief is a customizable character from a video game where a personality option is 'ruthless.' The force receives who gets 'discharged' from the island and you'd have to take their word for it and credentials used are word of mouth.

[ He pauses. Too bad there isn't pie on this table. ]

So, not really. Maybe a little.

Edited 2012-12-03 20:01 (UTC)

[ There was something familiar about the way Shepard conducted himself but he was not about to up and believe in the man that was 'hand chosen'. Sherlock takes a moment to browse over at the phone. He's still waiting to hear from the man about a meeting of sorts and from there Holmes will further deduce.

It's hard for him to believe that he is really thinking this, but assuming it's true that Shepard is from a video game where personality is customizable then what 'profile' is he? Is he all of them or just once? Does he cycle through them; is it to be treated as if he has Dissosiative Identity and cannot tell the difference between one 'profile' and the other? ]

He said he was chosen by 'nonfictionals'. I asked if he worked in close with them and my question went ignored. [ His eyes scan over the phone again; a deepened frown. Eyes return to Coulson. ]

Has there been recorded instances of 'ruthless' behavior?

Did he say that? Hm.

[ Why not answer? The question is simple enough. Yes or no, even.
Coulson tapped a finger on the back of his hand while they were folded then leaned back in the booth.

Not to shake up belief in their capabilities- the force seems very capable for what it is. But Sherlock did ask for an opinion. You have to question these things. If an event tips it, the entire thing could collapse into chaos. But then again, his team has a Hulk in it. Sometimes it works. If it becomes corrupt though... well. And how far into the non-fictionals does it go? Another pair of eyes couldn't hurt. ]

Not on record. He appears grounded enough and Captain Rogers has yet to complain about his work ethics.

Edited 2012-12-04 15:45 (UTC)

[ Not the most positive response. Holmes takes a moment to answer the recent response from another and slides it away on the table. Then again, there was no method in which he could fully believe the words of Coulson either. In a way, he was young again; starting off disbelieving everything. He breaks a moment to rub the bridge of his nose; a scrunching expression and ebbed brows. He really had become close to some in the field. In his way, he trusted and respected certain individuals. Nothing like a radical alteration in atmosphere to encourage a moment of humble appreciation.

He'll be seeing soon for himself, either way. Shepard just agreed to a meeting. ]

Where are you in this?

[Funny how this works. You can't believe anything around here, Sherlock must be thinking. Not really. He'll question everything. ]

I'm not.

[ Not officially. It came out without hesitation. He doesn't work with the force. Or anyone, really. He observes. He contributes when there's something to contribute. No badge to flash. He won't sign up for anything officially yet. Maybe he's not even really here. It could be a coma. Spear-induced coma. One long hallucination. Who knows. He'll never let that openly bother him. ]

I work at the high-school. Guidance counselor.

[ Sherlock sits back as his hands fold into his lap and eyes steady on he man. It's not like him to make eye contact unless he was looking for something but regardless whether or not it was socially correct to do so, Holmes just took a moment to watch him in silence.

Coulson is right. Holmes trusts everything far less than he already trusted anything. After a moment he gets up abruptly, pockets his phone, and leaves.

However a few moments after that he's back again to at least pay for the coffee and wave thanks. ]

█ ００１█ｔｅｘｔ

no subject

no subject

no subject

several minutes later:

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject