OPEN POST; [ HERLOCK SHOLMES / TGAA ]

[retroductions]

(( hold you in my dreams ))

Comments

[spelljam]

[ but why, Sholmes, would that occur to her? there is no living soul on all of Toril that she would tell. what happened in Reverie is a secret unto her grave, that it comes so naturally to believe, without a second's pause for doubt, that for anyone else, surely it is much the same. secret. private. unconfessable.

she can't sit now; the nervous energy is back to stay. the kind that sees her pacing the room in small back and forth motions. ]

Everyone balks at least once, Herlock. Have you forgotten? Even you. Before she is even meeting me, she knows we are not alike.

[retroductions]

[Ah, her anxiety flares anew. Or stronger, anyway.]

Steady on now, Sprezzatura.

[He sets his pipe down, letting its smoke lazily eke upwards, on the mantle. Then he moves to stand in her pacing path to reach out an offered, steadying hand.]

Of course she knows we are not alike in appearances, but what does that matter? Yes, she may stare for a moment or two, but only in fascination and admiration. But if it is rejection you so dearly fear, there will be none of it in this flat. I would bet my entire career as a great detective on it!

[spelljam]

[ a steadying hand, which she grasps in both of hers and presses to her forehead. deep breath in, deep breath out. ]

Rejection? Bah.

[ otherness. ]

[retroductions]

[It’s true, there are no tieflings in London, and there is little to be done about that. But otherness takes many forms, and to think that it does not reach 221B—with its great (weird) detective and his prodigious (weird) foster daughter residing within—is naive. They are hardly normal insofar as society views them; she fits right in. For what comfort that’ll be in the days to come.

Turns his wrist so he can grip one of her hands, drawing it near to kiss her knuckles.]

Hmm. Then what? There is little more tightly-knit than those who can claim be a part of the Sholmes family.

[halfway across London, Mycroft sneezing probably]

[spelljam]

[ ah, the kiss. he is trying so very hard, putting on such a serious face for her. the seconds until the moment of truth tick away—she takes and lets out a deep and hard breath. ]

It is very naked. To be seen exactly as you are. This is all.

[retroductions]

A privilege afforded to only a few, I’m certain. Take comfort in the fact that both of us will appreciate it for all it’s worth.

[Ultimately, maybe that’s the only comfort he can afford her. Sholmes squeezes her hand, then turns to face the door.]

But the only way to surmount a fear is to gave it head-on! Steel yourself, my dear. Do you hear those footsteps heading up the stairs? Iris approaches!

[velluminous]

[ even in disguise, it's this kind of a reaction. she tenses from head to toe, clenching Sholmes' hand in hers.

low and urgent, ] Give me your pipe. Give me your pipe.

[retroductions]

[Aha,,]

My hand, my dear.

[he left it on the mantel, she will have to release him]

[velluminous]

[ she lets go, but honestly, is there even enough time for another puff before the door opens? ]

1/3

[retroductions]

[Surprisingly... yes!

Because as Sholmes crosses back to the mantel to retrieve his pipe, the doorknob to the front door jiggles. Jostles. Turns, but never quite the whole way, because-]

[bestbuds]

[-poor little Iris has been locked out, and her key to 221B does not seem to be working. Neither adult within the flat can see her yet, of course, but no doubt they can hear her baffled huff, and perhaps can imagine her putting on hand on her hip in disbelief.

She calls out to Sholmes from the other side.]

Hurley! Why have you gone and changed the locks? What are you up to?

[retroductions]

[And here comes Sholmes, approaching Sprezzatura to offer his pipe, though his face cracks into a wide grin as he responds to the closed door—]

Iris, my dear, did I not say that I’d have you practicing the critical art of lock picking sooner rather than later? Well, it is sooner right now! Come, come, this is an easy one.

[Well, it seems Sprezzatura has enough time to puff from his pipe, after all.]

[spelljam]

her first time hearing the girl's voice, and it's "Hurley." she whirls on Sholmes in something like startled disbelief, taking the pipe yet not bringing it to her lips just yet. ]

You lock her out?

[ she didn't notice him doing that. ]

[retroductions]

[She wouldn’t have, because-]

Oh, yes, I changed the locks this morning before I picked you up at the station.

[These are just normal happenings in 221B. The knob jostles again, and the sound of a little huff on the other side of the door — but neither party seems terribly concerned, so Sholmes’ faith must be high, indeed.]

[spelljam]

[ so she has truly stepped into the middle of what seems like a perfectly normal day. after all she went through to get here, life goes on.

it's a comfort. ]

And you have taught her this lock-picking?

[ she will never forget the sound of him working her door open in Basilisk, after she'd died in Wei Wuxian's heart. ]

1/2

[retroductions]

[Then she will also recall that she interrupted his lock picking at the time. It’s clear Sholmes has no intention of doing the same with Iris.]

Of course. She may be my daughter, but she is also my ever reliable assistant. It’s only natural that, in time, she learns all the skills that might bolster her own efficacy — not that she is terribly lacking in much at all!

[He chortles. The doorknob still jiggles.]

[bestbuds]

[And then swings open to reveal Iris! Bag carried in the crook of one arm, while the other reveals a set of lock picking tools.]

Honestly, Hurley, you—

[!!]

Oh! Why didn’t you tell me you were having someone over?

[spelljam]

[ !!





she can't help it. she simply freezes in place, holding Sholmes' pipe just barely to her lips ]

1/2

[retroductions]

[He gently nudges her with his elbow, though still grinning at Iris.]

Marvelous work, my dear. That lock was hardly a challenge at all for one such as yourself — I’ll have to install something far more complex the next time around!

[He straightens, pushing up at his cap (which isn’t there; old habit.)]

But for now, introductions are in order! Iris, you’ve finally a chance to meet Sprezzatura Vaux! And my dearest Sprezzatura, this is my foster daughter, loyal assistant, and talented writer of all my tales, Iris!

[bestbuds]

[For now, never mind that what she sees does not match the description of what Sholmes described to her, Iris simply… GASPS.

Is it really her-?!]

[spelljam]

[ ... takes a drag on his pipe. such a small and delicate-looking girl, all bright colours and tailored clothes. it is clear from first glance that she is very loved.

no, it was clear just from walking in and looking around. the space equally tailored to them both, too.

she has to say something now, though. think! ]

Da. That is me, Ms Vaux.

[bestbuds]

[That she is loved is very clear, indeed. Sholmes speaks warmly and proudly, and there is so much care put into her wellbeing that it exudes as happiness. The simple bright-eyed excitement that all ten-year olds possess if they lead contented lives, never mind how mature Iris is for her young age.

She gasps again, more delighted than surprised this time.]

Oh, Hurley, it’s just like you said. She even has a Russian accent!

[Or something close enough to it. Iris hurries up to Sprezzatura, not even bothering to close to door, still holding both satchel and lock picking tools her a hand apiece. The question of why she isn’t blue and horned still lingers in her mind, of course, but she’s polite enough not to blurt it out yet, and too excited to care. Maybe Hurley was making a joke; it wouldn’t be all that strange.]

What a pleasure to finally meet you, Ms Vaux. [(already churning up nicknames in her mind)] My name is Iris Wilson. I’ve heard so much about you from Hurley.

[Would she like a tiny curtsy because she’s getting one]

[spelljam]

[ she really calls him Hurley! to this end, a little bit of blinking before she realizes she's being curtseyed to. she brings up the hem of her skirt and returns the motion. ]

And he speaks to me very fond things of you, Miss Iris.

1/2

[bestbuds]

Oh, not nearly as fond as you, I'm sure. [Wait for it.] Sprezzie!

[retroductions]

[Aha, he should have warned her about the nicknaming. Though Iris can get away with anything, being Iris.]