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Tweak says, "buttered toast"

anna marchant does not recognize your face (alwaysastranger) wrote in colligo_threads,
@ 2012-03-19 20:13:00

Entry tags:

anna marchant, sherlock holmes

WHO: Anna Marchant & Sherlock Holmes
WHAT: Anna runs into the local consulting detective.
WHEN: Not long after her arrival in the city.
WHERE: The streets of Colligo.
RATING: TBD
STATUS: In Progress

Blue shirt, black jeans, and tennis shoes. Red dress, red heels, pearl necklace. Blue and red tie, vertical stripes.

On and on the litany in Anna's mind continued to repeat, each article of clothing worn by those she passed on the street getting filed away. She knew she'd never have to remember the majority of it, of course, but it helped to keep her calm. Particularly when faced with the sort of situation she was dealing with at the moment. Because she knew she was going to have to speak to someone, whether she liked it or not.

The PDA she'd been using weighed heavily in her pocket. She rested her hand on it, unused to the added weight and finding herself preferring that method of communication. She didn't have to look at people, over a network. She didn't have to worry about their faces changing from one second to another. She could pretend, even if only in her own mind, that they always looked the same. Out on the streets, that was never the case. Especially not now, when she was all worked up from being kidnapped in the first place.

Still. She needed directions, at the very least. It was getting late and she was running out of options. Steeling herself, she focused not on the sea of changed faces but rather who was doing what. Some people were shopping. Some were selling goods. Some were simply wandering. Some were chatting amongst themselves. And just up ahead, now that she'd calmed enough to notice, there was a small cart with a man standing beside it, a display of maps spread across for all to see. Smiling, Anna approached him and purchased one, turning away afterward with a self-satisfied smile on her face and determination shining in her eyes. Now she just had to find the address she'd been given. Piece of cake.

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ifimnothungry
2012-03-20 01:08 am UTC (link)

"You don't want that, that's rubbish," A confident voice rang in Anna's ears as the map she'd just purchased was deftly extracted from her hands and returned to the vendor, the individual having done so proceeding to remove the money that she'd just paid for it from the man's jacket with the ease of an experienced pickpocket. "Barely above bog stand, and that's free." He said, giving the vendor a less than impressed looking before his attention turned entirely back to the woman he'd probably just thrown completely off her train of thought.

Dressed in his usual semi-causal attire, long coat and scarf pulled over a suit coat, trousers, and cuffed shirt stretched achingly tight across tensed muscles, the searching gaze that crossed over her was an intense one, but it seemed to relax after a moment, "I think we actually spoke when you arrived," His memory for faces (or names, really) that weren't immediately important to him wasn't all that great, but this hadn't been too long ago so it had yet to be put in his recycling bin. "Even if we didn't quite get to the names bit. Sherlock Holmes," He said, pausing for a moment, with the briefest yet most obvious of hesitations, before sticking out his hand for her to shake.

It was always so hard for him to remember whether that was appropriate to do with women or not much less to remember to do it at all without John there to nudge him as a reminder.

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alwaysastranger
2012-03-20 01:22 am UTC (link)

Blinking in faint surprise, Anna remained silent as a man who was every bit a stranger to her took her map away and gave her back to her money. Her brow furrowed slightly, blue eyes widening when he mentioned they'd spoken then introduced himself. Her gaze flickered to the vendor she'd purchased the map from, the man's face having changed to look like someone else entirely again. By the time she looked back to Sherlock, his had done the same.

His clothes, however, remained the same. She memorized everything about them that she could in a quick glance, all of the details that would later help her should she need to identify him again. She blinked at the name he gave, peering up at him with a somewhat quizzical look - tempted to call him a liar but ultimately bringing up something else entirely when she finally spoke.

"Anna Marchant," she gave her name with relative ease. Realizing a prime opportunity for directions when she saw it, she didn't comment on his taking of her map but instead said, "It's nice to meet you. I don't suppose you could help me find the apartment I'm supposed to stay in, could you? I'm not all that great with directions..."

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ifimnothungry
2012-03-20 01:40 am UTC (link)

It didn't take a genius to note the inspecting gaze that she washed over him. Most people were keen enough to realized when he was sizing them up, so Sherlock most definitely knew when he was being evaluated, analyzed, and sorted away for further inspection. He didn't voice anything about it, though, just took her introduction and made a note of it for later, "That shouldn't be too difficult to achieve. I haven't been here nearly long enough to construct even a somewhat decent mental map of the city, but I have all of the major avenues laid out. Which building are we looking for? The path we take depends upon whether you're in the main complex or the secondary one."

Building D, the replacement for Building B which apparently burned down within the first year of people being housed in Colligo, was in an entirely different direction, after all. No sense in starting one way only to find out that he had to turn them around and double back.

"Once you know where you're supposed to end up, it shouldn't be too hard to get a handle on the rest of the city," For Sherlock, at least, it didn't seem too hard. "Maps just complicate things."

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alwaysastranger
2012-03-20 01:53 am UTC (link)

"Um..." Anna trailed off, fumbling with her PDA for a second before finally pulling up the information. "I'm in... 301C? There's no building specifically mentioned so... Building C?" She looked briefly over her shoulder at the nearest street sign, ensuring by the time she returned her attention to Sherlock, he looked completely different yet again. There was that brief flash if unfamiliarity in her eyes before it was gone, her nerves soothed by the knowledge that he was still the same man he'd been a few scant seconds earlier.

"I really do appreciate this," she said with a small smile. "Like I said. Directions and I don't exactly get along. Especially somewhere new." Although she was getting better. Paying attention to details in her every day life just to function really did help with that.

Speaking of attention to detail. Anna realized with a start that she was still clutching the money Sherlock had taken from the map-selling man and given to her. Looking down at it, she frowned lightly as she realized it was too much. Quickly she turned back toward the vendor, already exclaiming, "Excuse me!" in the hopes of getting his attention.

Instead, two men turned toward her. Standing side by side, their clothing similar, Anna didn't know which was the one who had sold her the map. She looked helplessly between the two for a heartbeat before swallowing hard and holding the extra money out in front of her. "I..." she licked her lips. "I have too much. I need to give some back." Her gaze dropped to just below the chins of the men and she focused on breathing as one of them finally reached out to take the change.

Once she'd handed it over, she quickly turned back to Sherlock. Although she didn't quite look him in the eye.

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ifimnothungry
2012-03-20 02:22 am UTC (link)

Building C. Lucky them. That would take about half as long as the trek to Building D would have. Sherlock had been about to point on the direction when he noticed something at Anna turned back to look at him. It was brief, and only there for a matter of seconds, so much so that anyone else would have missed it, that he nearly did himself, and he might have anyone had it not been a look that he'd seen many people give him during his life time: the uncertainty and bewilderment that came with having absolutely no idea who this person was who was talking to you so insistently. Filing it away along with his other note, Sherlock nodded as he pointed back down the street and towards the swath of green in the distance that indicated the park. "It's just on the edge of the park, about a block over from one of the entrances."

He'd been about ready to start walking with her when she started, though, turning back to return the vendor's money. Apparently he'd taken just a bit too much in his lightfingered attempt to get it back without a fight. Curious. Most people just would have kept it after realizing there was a bit more there than they paid. Curiouser still, most people would have known who to give it back to. Watching as Anna hesitated, the processors whirled in Sherlock's head. It was only a handful of clues, a minor amount of data, but a picture was starting to form in his mind that was shaping all of the little things that met his eye into a larger whole.

But there was no need to address a yet incomplete picture. As she turned back to him, not quite meeting his gaze, he decided just to let it lie for now. John always said his timing needed improvement anyway. Maybe this was one of those moments where he could try and work on that. "Would you rather take the quickest route or the most efficient route?"

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alwaysastranger
2012-03-29 01:40 am UTC (link)

When Sherlock didn't immediately comment on her slip-up, Anna relaxed ever so slightly. A part of her - particularly when he'd given his name - had expected him to say something. Most anyone else would have. In fact, it seemed a little off to her that someone who either believed they were the Sherlock Holmes or, more bizarrely still, really was the Sherlock Holmes, wouldn't say anything about what had just happened. But if he wanted to be polite about it, she certainly wasn't going to complain.

Instead, Anna blinked in mild confusion at his question to her. "How is a route more efficient but not the quickest?" she asked curiously with a slight tilt of her head. Then she seemed to shake the thought away, finally deciding, "And you can decide which way. I really don't care."

As far as she was concerned, she was simply lucky to have someone willing to show her the way. She wasn't all that worried about what route they took to get there.

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ifimnothungry
2012-03-29 01:57 am UTC (link)

Sherlock couldn't help but smile at the question as he answered coyly, "There's always a way to be quicker that doesn't quite fit with efficiency." It was a question he was rather used to answering when directions were involved, and much like the built up areas of London, Colligo was much the same when it came to navigating particular areas of the densely populated sections. It was simply quicker to climb a few fire escapes, hop a couple of roofs, and shimmy down a drainpipe or two than it was to wait for things to clear on the normal passes taken either by foot or by cab. But it was very, very seldom that you met a person willing to go to such lengths to shave a number of minutes off of their evening commute. "But as we're neither late nor chasing anyone, I think for the moment, efficient will do."

Gesturing towards one of the substreets that snaked its way through a huge set of buildings pressing in on each other, Sherlock offered her a bit of a smile, halfway between his feigned nice guy look and something more sincere. "I'm in Building C myself," He said, slipping his hands into his coat pockets. "201, so the floor directly below," He continued before chuckling quietly. "If you ever overhear gunfire, it's nothing to be concerned about. John keeps saying that I need to warn the neighbors before I do things like that, so consider this a preemptive warning."

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alwaysastranger
2012-03-31 02:30 pm UTC (link)

There was something about his smile that was both adorable and yet a bit alarming. Anna couldn't tell if it was simply that the expression didn't look right on the face her mind had pulled up for him this time, or if he was trying to make her a bit wary of his idea of a quicker route, but either way she found herself the tiniest bit relieved when he decided on efficient instead. Particularly because she most definitely had not signed up for a route that one might take when chasing someone else.

Falling into step beside him, Anna stifled a sigh as she glanced in the direction they were going then back to him, only to have his face once again look different. However another, closer, look made her take pause for the slightest of seconds. Because while there was no question that he did not look like the same man he just had a few seconds ago, his smile did.

Realizing she was staring a bit more than she probably should, and with a slightly dropped jaw no less, Anna quickly composed herself and offered him a small smile. "Thank you for the warning, then. I'll make sure not to call the cops when I hear shooting." Briefly she wondered what kind of landlord would allow a tenant to fire a gun inside their own apartment, then reminded herself where she was and the level of insanity she was dealing with, and realized she'd effectively answered her own question. So rather than put that particular inquiry into words, she instead slid her hands inside the jacket she wore and asked, "So John is, what? Your roommate?"

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ifimnothungry
2012-03-31 11:26 pm UTC (link)

There were many things people could accuse the great Sherlock Holmes of being. Inconsiderate, tactless, maniac, obsessive, but the one thing that nobody could ever call him with any sincerity was unobservant. Even out of the corner of his eye, he could recognize signs that something was happening each time she glanced away from him and looked back. It was something that she was expecting, perhaps even well used to by the sigh that she seemed to hold back upon one look, but was still surprising each time all the same. Coupled with her hesitation at confronting the vendor and the look she seemed to give him during her first glance, Sherlock was feeling more and more assured about his theory.

But he couldn't be certain until he tested it out.

"And the only one who could tolerate it, I'm sure," Sherlock said with a bit of a laugh as his steps fall back, his pace decreasing as he slipped behind her and continued talking, waiting for a moment until she wasn't looking and slipped off his coat. "Dr. John Watson. You'd like him." Granted, Sherlock felt that most people would like John and had a very hard time grasping the idea that anyone wouldn't. "He's far better with people than I am so I imagine he'd make a more decent first impression."

With a flick of his wrists, and only a minor reluctance on his part, Sherlock tossed his coat aside, letting it fall with the slightest of sounds onto the sidewalk as he moved to quicken his pace and fall in next to her. He'd return to retrieve it once he'd confirmed his theory. Now, all he had to do was wait.

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alwaysastranger
2012-03-31 11:44 pm UTC (link)

Doctor John Watson. Of course. Now that Sherlock had given the man's name, Anna felt a bit like an idiot not having figured it out sooner. Obviously, if this was Sherlock Holmes, John Watson had to be around somewhere. And, even if Anna still didn't quite believe the man was who he claimed to be, she supposed if he was going to carry out the farce it made sense he would do it thoroughly.

"You didn't make a bad first impression," she said after a second, gaze flickering briefly to a window display they were passing. "Maybe a little forward, but that's not always a bad thing." She turned to glance at him with a small smile only to immediately come to a stop at the sight of a stranger now beside her. Quickly, she took a step away, a wary look crossing over her face as she glanced over her shoulder in the vain hope that the man she'd just been speaking with would be standing there, somehow separated from her.

Truth be told, had Anna not been so out of sorts because of her arrival, the lack of coat might not have worked for her. However, she hadn't taken the time to make a proper mental note of everything he was wearing, mostly just noting the easiest bit of clothing to spot in a crowd. She knew, vaguely, that she'd looked at the color of his shirt and the pants he wore too, but for the life of her couldn't remember what either looked like now, when it really mattered.

So rather than only missing a beat at the lack of a coat then easily identifying him again due to his other clothing, Anna hesitated. She was torn between demanding he speak, so at the very least she could try to place his voice, and fleeing from him entirely. Ultimately she simply took a few more small steps away, doing her very best not to panic as her mind was prone to doing when she felt as utterly lost and alone as she did at that very moment.

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ifimnothungry
2012-03-31 11:59 pm UTC (link)

The fear was not an aspect of the issue which he had counted on, and he raised his hands the moment that he realized she was reacting adversely to try and soothe her nerves, "I was simply testing a theory," He said with hopes that his voice would calm some of the confusion. It was perhaps the most recognizable aspect of his character apart from his features, features that he'd just confirmed that she couldn't cognitively recognize once she looked back after looking away. "I did not mean to alarm you," He said, taking a few steps backward in an attempt not to turn his face away from her just in case it was even more than he glancing away which caused him to become distorted. Sinking to one knee to recover his coat, Sherlock pulled it back and offered her a half smile. "There. Everything sussed," He said, reaching up to adjust his collar before moving in next to her again.

"So. Is it just the face, or does everything end up looking out of place?" Sherlock asked with a curious lilt in his voice, one which would most certainly have been deemed inappropriate had John been standing there with him, that would have prompted quiet, one word lectures about privacy and prying when it wasn't needed. But John wasn't here, so Sherlock felt a certain freedom in going a bit beyond what would be considered proper to satisfy his own curiosities. After all, she could easily refuse to answer if she didn't feel like doing so. Though, that would likely prompt him to do more experimentation of his own on the rest of their walk, and it would really just be easier to discuss these things.

"I only ask because there was a slight difference in build between the other two back there," He said, pointing back over their shoulder as he referred to something that it was very possible only he could have recognized. After all, most people couldn't really differentiate when it came to a few inches in height, different shoe sizes, and variances in body type.

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alwaysastranger
2012-04-01 12:08 am UTC (link)

Okay, so it was him. That was good. It meant she hadn't somehow wound up walking next to a complete stranger and losing Sherlock somewhere along the way. Of course, it also meant she now felt an almost overwhelming urge to slap him. She could practically justify it by claiming her handprint on his face would ensure a mix-up like that didn't happen again. In fact, she was pretty sure, even if he pressed charges and she wound up in court, that no jury would convict her of assaulting him based on what had just happened. So there was that too.

Obviously, though, the thoughts were simply that. Thoughts. She had no real intention of smacking him for what he'd done, even if a large part of her really did want to. It just wasn't in her nature to react violently to things and especially wasn't something she was keen on doing to someone who had been trying to help her. So instead, she simply waited until he had his coat back on - not even blinking until that very moment - then scrubbed a hand down her face and sighed softly.

"It's called prosopagnosia," she explained quietly as she met his once again different looking gaze. "It's a form of face distortion. They're always changing, as soon as I look away." Her expression was carefully neutral as she tacked on, "I've only had it for a little over a month, now. I'm still getting used to coping, thank you."

Yes, the 'thank you' was said a bit peevishly, but Anna liked to think she'd responded calmly enough considering how shaky she felt. Another pause, and she finally added, "And the next time you want to know something, just ask. Please."

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ifimnothungry
2012-04-01 02:21 am UTC (link)

"Asking often leads to dubious results," Sherlock said, fiddling with the collar of his coat before stepping in next to her and gesturing for them to be on their way. "It is better to test and know for certain than it is to question and base your understanding on what people are willing to admit to," He said, slipping his hands into his pockets and sparing her another glance. It probably wasn't the nicest sentiment to express, but it was one which tended to be horribly accurate in his dealings with most people. People lied, particularly often about things which they were embarrassed or ashamed about, no matter how much it might hinder his ability to get information. This might not have been one of his cases, but the statement still held true. He had had no way of knowing that she would have been honest about her situation if he had simply asked. His way had been quicker and more efficient.

"But I shall keep that in mind for later," Sherlock said, clearing his throat as he finally started to consider what she had said. Prosopagnosia wasn't a term that he was familiar with, but he was hardly a medical doctor. Many things outside the realm of forensics escaped his encyclopedic knowledge, after all, so it wasn't really surprising that he'd never heard of the disorder. "If it's any reassurance, I rarely take this coat off," He said with an arch of an eyebrow. "And John will stand out from a mile away once you meet him." Like anyone could ever mistake him for someone else with his wardrobe being what it was.

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alwaysastranger
2012-04-01 04:50 am UTC (link)

Anna had finally had enough. At his words, not to mention his flippant attitude toward the entire situation, she felt something within her snap. Coming to an abrupt stop, not even thinking about potential consequences, she grabbed him by the arm firmly and spun him so that he was facing her. As soon as he was, she dropped her hand back to her side and fixed him with a look that was a mixture of barely contained anger and indignation.

"No," she said flatly. "That isn't reassuring. Neither is whatever your friend happens to wear, either." She raised her arms, indicating the entire city with one wide sweeping motion. "None of this is reassuring, not even a little. And it doesn't matter what kind of coat you wear, or how tight your shirts might be, or your height, weight, or even your voice. The fact of the matter is, this is all very new to me and I don't appreciate it being handled so flippantly." Pausing for a second to compose herself, hands clenching and unclenching at her sides, she finally managed a tight-lipped, "This... condition has all but ruined my life. I won't have it treated like it's not that big of a deal when you have no possible idea what it takes for me to simply make it through each day living with it."

Drawing in a breath, she exhaled slowly. Managing to calm herself enough to keep her tone even, Anna added simply, "It's hell. Plain and simple. Just because I'm learning to live with it doesn't make that any less true." Blue eyes shone with emotion as she finished, in a slightly choked-up tone, "So the next time you want to try some kind of experiment to see just what it is I'm going through, don't. And if you can't handle that..." She shrugged and nodded in the direction they'd just come from. "Then go. Leave now, and stay away from me. Because I won't stand for it a second time."

And with that being said, she quietly and calmly turned on her heel and continued down the street. She hoped, of course, that he would stay with her and show her the way to get to the apartments. That maybe she might not have ruined the one potential connection she'd made in the city. However, she'd meant what she said. If he couldn't handle this on her terms, that was the end of it. For once in her life, it was her way or nothing at all.

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ifimnothungry
2012-04-01 05:21 am UTC (link)

Sherlock had had an inkling that his previous actions might have encroached upon the inappropriate, but he had assumed, when they had been met with a simple explanation, that all of that had been resolved. He'd hardly expected his explanation of his actions, of all things, to be met with a response akin to some of the less than kind interactions with his clients. Staring after Anna as she turned and walked away from him, Sherlock couldn't help but blink at her back, a mixture of seeping briefly into his features before he carefully screwed his expression up and moved to catch up with her.

"I wasn't attempting to trivialize your condition. Merely attempt to provide some sense of...grounding?" Sherlock said, as if he wasn't really sure what his motivations had been. This was a lot easier with John around to deal with the interactions and fill in the blanks that he seemed to constantly miss. Granted, it would have also been simpler if he could just go back to not really caring about having those blanks filled in for other people, but that was unlikely to happen anytime soon. So he'd just have to try until he managed to figure out exactly what it was that lead him to constantly making such massive gaffs, quantify the process for avoiding them into an easily memorable formula, and put that formula into practice.

"At least let me show you the rest of the way?"

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