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Tweak says, "a great big bushy beard!"

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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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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