Edogawa Conan | Kudo Shinichi (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
holmes_fanatic) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
asgardeventide2012-04-20 06:15 am
holmes_fanatic) wrote in asgardeventide2012-04-20 06:15 am
[video]
[The feed lurches disconcertingly. Sheets, ceiling, a rather plain wall, a stack of books, all follow each other in rapid and confusing succession until with an intake of breath, the flailing stops and the feed settles into a child's hand grasping the edge of that sheet; the shadow of a sitting up figure projected onto the wall beyond.]
... back here. A dream?
[Too vivid, too real for that. The shadow shifts, hand going to its head as a deep breath is taken. It's a hard transition to make, almost feeling like he's losing Tokyo and everything there all over ag--]
What the--
[The bracelet gets jolted wildly as Conan explores his hair. It gets in the way and is roughly discarded onto the bed, giving a much clearer view of a pale seven-year-old, methodically working his way through his fringe -- what's left of it. There's a patch been shaved off either temple, and something taped onto it with medical tape.]
Doesn't hurt -- a sensor? But that should mean --
[Not wasting any time, Conan slips out of the bed. He's been dressed in a man's shirt, as big on him as a hospital gown, a fact which gives him a moment's pause, but he's undeterred, rolling up the sleeves before turning to pick up his bracelet again -- and making another discovery. What he thought was a bed was a --]
Coffee table.
Looking for this?
[Conan turns to look at Sherlock, standing in the door way, smartphone in hand. Conan doesn't bother with a greeting, making his unsteady way over to snatch at the smartphone. Sherlock lets him, expression simply distant.]
Monitor higher brain functions ... ? Ha, there's an app for everything.
[Sherlock might be looking as unamused as ever, but a new face makes it's way around the door, with an expression that is clearly more welcoming.]
Conan! You're finally back with us?
John's glad. He was complaining that you were unsanitary.
[Conan's clearly not sure how to react.] Why the coffee table? Couldn't you have monitored me from my room -- o-oi-oi!
Don't get excited -- your bracelet. [Ignoring Conan's protests, Sherlock's casually taken hold of his arm and is reaching for the button that will end the feed.] You're broadcas--
[And cut.]
((ooc: Sherlock, John and Conan -- who is going to be doing most of the responses to this post! Finally back after his canon update sleep /o/ ))
... back here. A dream?
[Too vivid, too real for that. The shadow shifts, hand going to its head as a deep breath is taken. It's a hard transition to make, almost feeling like he's losing Tokyo and everything there all over ag--]
What the--
[The bracelet gets jolted wildly as Conan explores his hair. It gets in the way and is roughly discarded onto the bed, giving a much clearer view of a pale seven-year-old, methodically working his way through his fringe -- what's left of it. There's a patch been shaved off either temple, and something taped onto it with medical tape.]
Doesn't hurt -- a sensor? But that should mean --
[Not wasting any time, Conan slips out of the bed. He's been dressed in a man's shirt, as big on him as a hospital gown, a fact which gives him a moment's pause, but he's undeterred, rolling up the sleeves before turning to pick up his bracelet again -- and making another discovery. What he thought was a bed was a --]
Coffee table.
Looking for this?
[Conan turns to look at Sherlock, standing in the door way, smartphone in hand. Conan doesn't bother with a greeting, making his unsteady way over to snatch at the smartphone. Sherlock lets him, expression simply distant.]
Monitor higher brain functions ... ? Ha, there's an app for everything.
[Sherlock might be looking as unamused as ever, but a new face makes it's way around the door, with an expression that is clearly more welcoming.]
Conan! You're finally back with us?
John's glad. He was complaining that you were unsanitary.
[Conan's clearly not sure how to react.] Why the coffee table? Couldn't you have monitored me from my room -- o-oi-oi!
Don't get excited -- your bracelet. [Ignoring Conan's protests, Sherlock's casually taken hold of his arm and is reaching for the button that will end the feed.] You're broadcas--
[And cut.]
((ooc: Sherlock, John and Conan -- who is going to be doing most of the responses to this post! Finally back after his canon update sleep /o/ ))
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Nakama-neechan can't ignore it, huh.
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Do you remember when that dragon showed up? How innocent we all were?
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You're too gentle with me. Either that or I'm too hard on myself.
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[You should probably have paused a little before saying that, Conan.]
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[Conan's suddenly nervous -- what if they can't find the proof they need? What if it was just a dream?
Oi -- are you a detective or not? Conan takes the stairs at a run.]
Come on, Nakama-neechan!
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Oops? Um -- I found exactly what we were looking for!
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Proof that it really happened?
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[The headline reads Three Strikes -- You're Out for Unlucky Crims! and features a photo of two beaming high school girls, one proudly posing and taking up most of the picture, the other recognisable as the girl who stabbed Conan, looking somewhat self-conscious and in the bottom corner, being squished by Sonoko's elbow -- Conan, making a half-hearted attempt at the Victory sign.]
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... it makes no sense. None at all.
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[MISSING THE POINT.]
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But it's crazy, isn't it?
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Crazy compared to what exactly? The gods actions so far? Their explanations?
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