OPEN POST; [ HERLOCK SHOLMES / TGAA ]

[retroductions]

(( hold you in my dreams ))

Comments

[retroductions]

[Oh, it would nearly be worth it, scandalized looks or not. But it's okay, she'll have plenty of time to straddle him all she wants later.]

Aha, certainly more than just illusion, however.

[A little flutter in his chest as she kisses his knuckles, and only when she loosens her grip does he drift his hand a few inches above her head. No horns to even bump into.]

Quite effective, indeed. Mrs Minicle is jealous.

[spelljam]

[ if it's the hand with his ring that she kisses, there is a slight... lipping at it before she straightens up and holds his hand in her lap. ]

Is she? She should be. This was very expensive.

[retroductions]

[It is, indeed.]

Oh, and worth every penny, no doubt. Still, what an investment, and for me — yes, I’ll be sure to make it worth the effort. We shall spare no expense on our lovely Ms Vaux while she is in town!

[Brave words from Sholmes who is brokeass half the time.]

[spelljam]

Herlock, I do not need expense. We could never leave your flat and I would be content.

[ this is not strictly true—she has in her the desire to roam. a new world! new discoveries to make.

but... knowing it is a world inherently without magic does quell the urge somewhat, and allows her to focus on the thought of laying in bed with Sholmes and watching the sunlight slowly move across the room. perhaps Iris laying between them. a book on their laps.

has she always felt so... domestic? she hasn't even met the girl yet. ]

[retroductions]

[And since when has Herlock Sholmes been domestic, either? (Minus the whole adopting a daughter thing.) The life of a detective was never suited for it, and he never truly yearned for it, but if he knew the picture that she was painting in her own mind, he would so very much find himself wanting to indulge. To make it reality. They can, soon.]

Oh, I know. That isn’t quite how I meant it. That is to say…

[He looks out to the street, to the many people and their lives passing by.]

I assume I might not have to hide anything at all, should I visit your world. A change of clothes at most perhaps, but not a change of form. For you to be here, it is not so simple. So much preparation, and so much willingness to give up a shape you know so well. One that I very much love you for.

[So, it does feel a bit lopsided, hm?]

[spelljam]

[ yes. he could visit all of Faerun without once requiring to disguise himself (though, knowing him, he still would find reason to). but even in the realm where they very definitively exist, tieflings are not always welcome. she has known that all her life, and in the days preceding that awful train detour, she had used this disguise at home and found it stark how much easier it was to just... be someone else. Waterdeep has no great love for the Vaux daughter.

quietly, she fans out her fingers with their perfectly curved, trimmed nails, and examines them. ]

But I love you. It was not difficult choice to make.

[retroductions]

[He glances back at her, the way she looks at her hand—her nails, now so very human, not the sharp tips of a tiefling's—and gently takes that hand in his own, instead, squeezing fondly.]

A love that I return tenfold and will always be grateful for. Not one that I hope you think I ever take for granted, my dearest; in that vein, perhaps I am long overdue in paying your own Waterdeep a visit sometime soon?

[Meanwhile, after a turn down a long and bustling street, their cab begins to slow to a stop.]

[spelljam]

[ it trembles finely in his hold ]

If you do, it may never let you go.

[retroductions]

[He laughs, brightly.]

And would that be so bad? An extended stay!

[spelljam]

I love you.

[retroductions]

[He nudges in to give her a kiss, still wearing that smile.]

And I love you.

[When their lips meet, the hansom cab finally lulls to a complete stop. The driver announces from his seat outside: You're home, Mr. Sholmes!]

[spelljam]

[ murmured against his lips, ] And Ms Sholmes.

[ not "Vaux". not here, not today, not with him. it's the first time she has ever uttered this aloud, and her heart beats frantically fast. ]

[retroductions]

[And naturally, it's the first he's heard it uttered, too, and Sholmes' smile brightens even more. It brings even a tinge of red to his cheeks, rosy and warm.]

A name that suits you, though perhaps I'm biased!

[Ehe. Maybe he really is suited to married life — he just needed the right partner.

What a terrible shame it is to pull away so that he can gather up both suitcases and trundle out the cab, leaving the door open for her to follow, but they have all the time in the world to make up for it later.]

Alley-oop! Here we are, 221B!

[The outer facade of the building is well-kept and welcoming, not at all resembling the chaos it often keeps sequestered within.]

I hope it'll be to your liking.

[spelljam]

[ his approval is like a bomb going off inside her. devastating. she will never recover from the joy of it. cups his cheek until he climbs from the cab, then she gathers up her yellow skirts and disembarks.

a door is just a door. somehow she hadn't pictured it to be set into a townhome. ]

Oh, I am being many worse places.

[retroductions]

Oh, but you've not set foot in my flat! [Er, wait.] ...I have heard it called a place of unbridled chaos, though I'm sure I needn't worry. You and I both know that genius resides buried within chaos!

[These are the usual excuses for a messy room, it would seem.

At any rate, Sholmes takes the time to pay the cab driver with a thanks. There's a brief, baffled exchange in which the older gentleman inquires about his status: Wherever and wherever did you get married, Mr Sholmes? I thought I would've read about such an event in the paper!

And Sholmes responds perhaps too honestly: Years ago, and in prison! Ha! And you know I'm not the sort to do anything with pomp, circumstance, or aplomb, my good man!

Since when.

Anyway, this only leaves more confusion in its wake as the driver is given another round of thanks and left to his questions as Sholmes returns to the task at hand; unlocking the door, letting Sprezzatura in first, and then following behind with their suitcases in hand.

The lower floor is nothing special. Very Victorian. Clean and neat. Clearly not where Sholmes resides. He hurries up the steps.]

This way, my love, this way!

[spelljam]

[ years ago, in prison.

she follows with the uncertain, faltering steps of a woman who isn't sure whether the ground is still under her or not. the train had been surreal, and so had the platform, but now it all seems to drop away.

Herlock calling her "my love" and bounding up the stairs. she's never seen him where he belongs before. brings one hand up to brush cruelly across her eyes as she ascends behind him. ]

Don't trip!

[retroductions]

[The luggage in tow probably knocks against the bannisters precariously on the way up, so boxy in comparison to Sholmes' lean frame that one wouldn't be blamed for thinking they might send him careening off balance. However, what Sholmes declares seems true enough, because he certainly bounds up without issue-]

Trip? Nothing so dramatic, even in my haste! I could rush up and down these steps in my sleep.

[He laughs, clearly in good spirits. When they reach the top, he swings the door awaiting them open with vigor, stepping back to let her in first.]

Here we are! Home sweet home.

[Welcome to 221B!]

[spelljam]

[ her eyes alight on two things at once: the phonograph. the violin.

home. ]

Herlock...

[retroductions]

[And a million other baubles and books and doodads, a veritable mess, proof of genius.]

Hm? What do you think?

[spelljam]

[ this is the place the empty hole in her heart has been crying out for all this time ]

I could stay here forever.

[retroductions]

[Sprezzatura 🥺😭]

And you are more than welcome to stay as long as you want, glad as I am to hear it.

[He flushes warmly, pleased. Utterly happy to have her approval. She could indeed stay here forever, and who would stop her? Certainly not her husband.]

Come, come! [In they go, and he closes the door behind them once they're in the flat, putting their suitcases down.] Let me change into something more suited for company; Iris is out on an errand for now, so the duties of host fall to me until she returns. Sit wherever you like!

[spelljam]

[ the sound of the suitcases hitting the floor is like a little lightning bolt up her spine. she brushes her wrist across her eyes once more, as subtly as she can when her very husband (husband! husband!) is Herlock Sholmes.

and turns, eyes drifting from him in his ridiculous old lady outfit, to her suitcase, and back. ]

Iris isn't here?

[ she'll tell him where she'd like to sit—— ]

[retroductions]

[i bet she would—]

She’ll be back shortly, I’m sure of it. Hm…

[He steps forward, gesturing at her.]

There’s no need to hide your emotions, my love. [Of course he noted her scrubbing at her eyes; just as he noted it before.] It’s only natural to feel overwhelmed, setting foot in a strange world. Not having seen someone in so, so long.

[spelljam]

[ my love, my love, my love, my love, my love, my love ]

I went through so much to get here. Mammon, will you please be changing out of your old woman clothes—

[retroductions]

Very well, very well! I am long overdue in greeting you as a great detective rather than a great geriatric.

[Which means! He takes his suitcase, fwumps it down on the chaise, and pops it open. His "normal" clothes lie folded messily within; yes, he brought his change of clothes along with him, because you never know.

Fusses with taking off the nightgown first, pulling it over his head.]

Truly, though, you might poke around if you wish. Make yourself quite comfortable in the meanwhile.