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Sherlock Holmes ([info]deducingyou) wrote in [info]marinasylum,
@ 2011-07-10 01:05:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags::action, kisame hoshigaki, sherlock holmes

[ Action | Closed ]
[ It was getting dark when Sherlock left the coffee shop, and by the time he'd pushed through Sector Five's clothing shop (atrocious task, and of course nothing has sleeves) the hour was growing late. He was about to give up and just head back to the Shelter when a hard wave of vertigo sent him snatching at the racks and going down. Oh.

For a moment, he had sat among a swathe of brightly colored shirts, ringed by a metal trolly that held them up. He did not panic; did not think much at all, in fact, beyond the way the room swam, until he suddenly could. The inevitable was happening. His body was failing him. There was a brief debate as to whether or not he could possibly make it to the shelter before his motor skills began to fail him, all the while clambering out of the mess while the world stood still. Thoughts after that were fogged and unimportant.

What's important is that, for better or for worse, he's laid up on the bench of one of the fitting rooms. He's tall, so his torso fits and the rest spills off. Somewhat on his side, eyes shut, dead to the world. Patches - practically pale enough to blend in with his skin - line the underside of the visible arm. His instincts had the good sense to shut the door behind him to afford him some privacy. He didn't lock it, though. ]



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[info]deducingyou
2011-07-17 09:11 am UTC (link)
[ This was a bad idea. The run is a little disorienting, but tolerable. But then the other is bounding up impossible distances, and he nearly goes tipping over the other's shoulder.

Kisame will have heels hooking into his sides after an initial scrabbling at his knees. The fingers that dig sharply into the other's back would leave marks on any human. Sherlock isn't wholly certain that he isn't going to be sick. He doesn't even know what he has to give up for the way his head is swimming. His body seizes with a dry heave, but luckily nothing comes of it other than a burn of bile at the base of his throat.

He focuses on catching his breath, half wrapped around the stranger and not really giving a damn whether or not it makes the shark-like good samaritan uncomfortable. He hadn't asked for this.

Actually, he knows he might be really enjoying this if he were feeling less like rubbish. With the speed they're moving along, the lights of the prison look like stardust, slipping off to shadow with the steady drop and push of momentum. Kisame is just a force to him, one which bares him along at a speed that has the potential to break necks. How is he doing it? ]

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[info]seeingeyeshark
2011-08-08 05:00 pm UTC (link)
[Kisame is fairly certain he's going to bruise, and all for trying to be nice; he winces in displeasure, notes the brief spasm, and wonders if he should have thought to ask first if the man easily got motion sick. Then again, he guesses it should hardly matter--at the speed they're going, it isn't as if he'd be getting vomited on, anyway. That would probably all land on a roof (he'd like to see one of the cleaning bots get up here, hah) or on some unlucky passerby, if anyone happened to be occupying the ground they were leaping across.

At least all he actually has to deal with is Sherlock suddenly turning from a struggling and reluctant passenger to something like a constrictor snake with claws. It's certainly awkward, but.... well, there's probably only himself to blame for that. He did say to hold on. Maybe he should choose his words more carefully with this one?

Either way, he probably won't have to put up with it for too much longer--the Shelter is already looming in the distance, and growing impossibly larger by the second. At this rate, they'll be leaping back down at one of the doors before Sherlock can do much more than catch his breath.]

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[info]deducingyou
2011-08-08 05:45 pm UTC (link)
[ By the time they land for good, Sherlock is panting as if he's done the run himself, eyes shut with some deep, grounding concentration of will. Sweat shines his brow and his hair with evidence of fever, and his grip will slacken when he realizes they're walking again. It's almost like his strength is draining out of him, legs falling away to dangle once more. ]

Just set me down in the hall.

[ He tells the other, more of a murmur than anything. He's trying to gather back his strength, converting over what dignity he still has left. ]

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[info]seeingeyeshark
2011-08-08 07:49 pm UTC (link)
Which room is yours?

[His concern is tempered with amusement, now, but both remain unvoiced; Kisame doesn't bother to ask if Sherlock is alright, or if he's not used to heights or speed. He'll offer the man that little shred of pride, at least, as he shoulders open the door and steps in--but pride or not, he's a little skeptical that Sherlock will be keeping himself on his feet long enough to get to his own place.]

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[info]deducingyou
2011-08-08 07:57 pm UTC (link)
That larger doorway down the hall - that's the kitchen. My flat is close by, so just set me there. I can make the rest of the way on my own.

[ That last sentence is a little more pointed. Trust issues, Sherlock? ]

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[info]seeingeyeshark
2011-08-08 09:10 pm UTC (link)
Fine, fine.

[Kisame pads off to set Sherlock down at the kitchen door, mildly grateful that he doesn't need to worry about the issue of prying the man off by now. Skeptical as he is, he'll at least let the guy do what he wants. At this point, there's no need to stick around; he doesn't think Sherlock is going to pass out again anytime soon.]

So, about those questions....

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[info]deducingyou
2011-08-08 09:29 pm UTC (link)
[ He slides easily off of the other and down the wall a bit, but the heels of his shoes soon catch and find some purchase in the floor below. He leans against the wall for now, also seeming to be waiting for Kisame to leave before he speaks.

Then his head tips back against the wall, eyes still sparking with a hint of the intelligence there. The rest of his body is kind of reminiscent of a drunk who can't stand quite straight. ]


Yes. Two of them.

[ He did make an agreement. ]

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[info]seeingeyeshark
2011-08-08 09:50 pm UTC (link)
[Kisame straightens and takes a few steps away to provide some space, gingerly rubbing his back to ease some of the abuse it's taken. What a pathetic sight.... It's even worse for a sharp mind to be left to such abuse than it would be for a common man.]

I think I'll take you up on that offer from earlier. Why exactly do you gather all that information, and what're you using it for? What's your world like?

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[info]deducingyou
2011-08-08 09:58 pm UTC (link)
[ He's too tired to care about much right now. Just this much is a show for a stranger. His mind, however, is like a gem that's been rolled in mud - its luster remains beneath, it's just a matter of chipping away the muck. ]

That's three questions.

[ Jointed as the two might be. Apparently he's still strong enough to be petulant. ]

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[info]seeingeyeshark
2011-08-08 10:32 pm UTC (link)
[A beat of silence as he considers this, and Kisame can't help but laugh, refraining from rolling his eyes; he's pretty sure the two are jointed enough that they should count as one, but the point is minor enough that he won't begrudge Sherlock his victory. But they seem more important than the last one--the metaphorical "Who are you?" seems more important than where he's from.]

Fine. Go ahead and forget the last one, then.

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[info]deducingyou
2011-08-08 10:51 pm UTC (link)
[ The laugh earns a reflexive twitch of lips, but it's a mirthless gesture. ]

I gather information because my profession relies on logic. I've been building a premise for this world on which I may base my deductions. This place is similar to my own, but the residents are not. If I'm to continue making logical conclusions about them, I must be able to change the way in which I observe. That takes time, facts, data. Everything that can be tested must be studied for similarity, and differences must be catalogued.

In the past, I used this information to solve curiosities and crimes. I'm not certain what I'll do with it now. Something, though. There must be something.

[ Frustration leaks into his voice near the end, brows furrowing at something far away, through the other. In some ways, somewhere, he's stopped talking to Kisame. ]

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[info]seeingeyeshark
2011-08-08 11:00 pm UTC (link)
[Kisame listens attentively, satisfied; from the sound of it, he picked his questions well. Not only the depth of the answer, but the tone of it, the way it's directed..... Yes, this is what he wanted. This is a driving force, a set of ticking gears that helps him go, makes him work, shows part of what he's made of. This is like asking Sasori about art, or Hidan about God.]

What premise is that? There must be something more to understand, here.

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[info]deducingyou
2011-08-08 11:25 pm UTC (link)
[ This may very well be Sherlock's god. It's his life, his art, his work - he can't help but speak passionately of the thing he claimed to married to. He may also be a little delirious from lack of sleep. ]

The premise. The database. A compilation of predicates.

[ No, Kisame, it doesn't get any simpler. ]

That's enough, I think. You should leave now.

And if you're thinking of looking for me here, think better of it.

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[info]seeingeyeshark
2011-08-09 12:01 am UTC (link)
.....Ah.

[No, it doesn't seem to get simpler at all. But he thinks he's beginning to understand--Sherlock doesn't seem to want some kind of coherent premise or explanation or even theory at all. It seems more like he wants to figure out the rules of this place and its inhabitants, the natural laws it all follows. He sounds like he wants to categorize and label and model it all, to develop formulas to predict things and people with. Maybe he's completely wrong, but..... well, it all seems painfully dehumanizing to him.

He shakes his head, lifting a hand in something like a salute and turning to go.]


Alright, alright..... I'll see you around later, then. Take care of yourself, Contrary-dono. I mean it.

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