asgardeventide | first whip. ♕ anon text

[ she'd been putting on her makeup, last she could recall - that, in and of itself, was a luxury considering the excitement of the last few months. it seemed like all she'd had to do was blink and her comfortable safehouse had disappeared, replaced by some sort of strange manor ballroom, with her sitting in the middle of a rug, hand still raised to apply another brush of eyeshadow.

irene adler was still considering what had happened next, turning it over in her brain again and again as she was finally released from what she now knew what was a castle. rather than cause a fuss immediately, it seemed almost safer to keep her head down and test things on her own; like this supposed new 'power' that she had. ordinarily, she was one to keep both feet nailed to the ground...

but given what had just happened, anything seemed possible, if not probable. it would be an elaborate ruse, and even mycroft holmes wasn't that good. he couldn't make people vanish (at least, not in this sense) and appear in a completely new location within the span of a second.

she managed to work her bracelet with relative ease, brushing a finger over the stone inset in it; from her god house? if that was truly what it was? giving the guide a quick skim, she could make a few assumptions.

1. this place was based upon norse mythology.
2. chances of the people in charge being sane were very limited.

well, it was time to jump in, wasn't it?

making certain that the video function was OFF (she didn't need to worry about that introduction, not yet), she fiddled with her settings a bit more, finding a bench to settle herself on. then, carefully, she typed: ]

I have to say, this isn't quite what I expected.
Saving the world(s) through feelings? It's all very touchy-feely and..
Not very me, I'm afraid.

I'd like it if someone could tell me what on earth is happening.
Go on. Impress a girl.

[ and if that wasn't enough of a hint, the text is signed: ]

IA.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ yes. perfect. she'd been hoping he was here; she'd seen the name on the list of those she could contact via this bracelet and had hoped that john watson had gotten her hint. that said, she wasn't being particularly subtle.

subtlety wasn't the point. ]

And you do?

Please, share with the class.

Maybe. Or interest you.

Sherlock Holmes.

Twice over.

Which, to be fair, is actually Asgard's doing. Or its gods, anyway.

Edited (Wow done now) 2014-02-09 15:00 (UTC)

Oh, that is interesting.

I can't imagine you coping well with two on the scene. Must be rather stressful to move from zero to two.

[ she'd noticed that there had been a sherlock holmes who engaged her -- without his customary signature, SH. she'd wondered about that, particularly as there were two names that showed up on the list of people she could contact via this silly bracelet device. ]

[ That settles it. It is her. ]

I deal with them one at a time, preferably.

Irene Adler.

Why, it took you long enough.

[ cheeky smirk, head tilt to one side. ]

Hello, Doctor Watson. Missed me?

I wouldn't say miss is the right word.

[ But it is actually good to see her. ]

Oh, please. Don't hold back on my account.

[ she's not quite ready to ask the inevitable questions - how were there two sherlocks when she was fairly certain the one she knew was dead? how had she come to be here? where was here? instead, she continues smirking. ]

I'm a bit disappointed; if you're correct and this place has nothing to impress me, I'm going to be rather bored.

Oh, it tends to come with surprises. Don't lose hope yet.

Oh, never.

[ she leans in, addressing the camera (and him) more intimately. ]

Just how long have you been here?

About half a year. With a break in between.

And Mr. Holmes? I can't imagine you two would stand to be separated for long.

He was here without me for a while. Disappeared. Came back without memories of the last time. Been here since.

Oh, how fascinating. Is that normal here, then?

If people come back at all, yeah.

I was under the assumption we weren't able to leave.

You don't leave on purpose.

Something to look forward to, I suppose.

[ she sobers. ]

Will you tell him I'm here?

Won't need to.

True enough. But I'd hate for my surprise to be ruined beforehand.

Don't worry. You can count on me.

I'm sure I can.

[ she has to sober, now. ]

Sherlock Holmes is dead, you know. Back home.

[ Pauses.

Clears throat. ]

No. He isn't.

[ And that isn't denial. It's stated like straight out fact. ]

I saw it. On BBC1, of all places.

[ how could anyone survive that? is it any wonder she doesn't believe him? ]

He knew where it was going. He prepared.

You're alive too, then.

I never died. He didn't tell you?

[ not the first time, not the second, though it was close. somehow it pleases her that he kept it a secret from john. ]

Did you know that he wasn't really dead?

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