OPEN POST; [ HERLOCK SHOLMES / TGAA ]

[retroductions]

(( hold you in my dreams ))

Comments

[retroductions]

[SPREZZATURA WHY-]

We... we were otherwise engaged, my dear!

[spelljam]

[ little spark in her chest hearing Iris call her his wife... ]

He gave me tour.

[bestbuds]

Oh? Did you venture into the attic? That’s where Runo and Susie used to stay! I really do miss them.

[yes, how thorough was your tour, Sprezzatura-]

[spelljam]

[ not familiar names. she files them away regardless. an attic...? that could be a good place for a living to be made. ]

No, he only shows me his room and then you arrived.

1/2

[bestbuds]

[Ohh, Hurley really is a terrible host, she thinks. Though it's not all that surprising — he's so easily swept away in the moment, and what a moment it must be, being reunited with his wife.

What a concept, too! Hurley falling in love and getting married... She really must know more about what kind of woman this Sprezzatura is.

A bit of clinking, the smell of fresh tea wafting, and Iris brings a steaming tea set over to them on a silver tray, which she sits down on the closed trunk that serves as a table in front of them.]

Then I'll show you the rest later! Maybe after you take a look at a few of my newest inventions — I'd love a second opinion.

[retroductions]

Oh, and what am I? [He jokes.] Chopped liver?

[He supposes his second opinion means nothing when Sprezzatura is among them, though of course he's hardly offended. He reaches forward to take a teacup on a saucer and offer it to Sprezzatura first.]

[spelljam]

[ her fingers brush his as she takes the teacup and saucer and brings it beneath her nose to smell. fresh and clean and bright. ]

Hmm. [ is this what it is meant to be like? for a child to look up to her with eagerness and a desire to share, to prove herself, and be regarded as an equal in turn? she's a wizard, not an inventor, not an artificer—but she wants so badly to be that which she never had herself. ] I could look. It will be layman's opinion, of course.

1/2

[retroductions]

[He chuckles as he takes his own saucer.]

Come now, no need for humility among the lot of us. Perhaps your specialties lie elsewhere, but an analytical, academic mind can be applied to a myriad of practices. A fresh perspective is always welcome.

[bestbuds]

[Iris settles herself in a chair opposite after taking her own saucer, too. Despite her expected childlike mannerisms—she still swings her legs, for example–she has the mien of an adult. Not so much that of a child forced to grow up quickly, but rather a young mind that's developed swiftly enough to outpace her age.

...But it's more her adolescent wonder that takes over right now. She nods, but shelves the notion for later with her words.]

What Hurley said. I'm still interested in the opinions of those from completely different worlds! But I don't mean to rush anyone, either; teatime is for proper introductions and stories, and-

[Leans forward.]

I want to hear about how the both of you met!

[She wants to hear it from Sprezzatura, anyway. It's more ~exciting~ than hearing it from Hurley for the nth time.]

[spelljam]

[ Herlock's child. the surprise has quickly worn away—after all, wouldn't Herlock Sholmes' daughter be this way? to think about it at all removes all doubt. yet the characteristics are there, as with Herlock himself, of someone predisposed to a sense of whimsy and joy, even as their analytical mind cannot be silenced. she really, really likes to see it. ]

Ha? We met... [ glances aside at him, and to bide for time, takes a slow sip of the tea. ] ...in prison.

[bestbuds]

[Sholmes hums amusement over the rip of his teacup when Sprezzatura tells Iris exactly the same as he told the hansom driver. Unlike that man, however, the young pink-haired girl hardly shows any sign of surprise — she's been told at length the marvels of Reverie (mostly the marvels; the horrors were quite truncated when spoken of) and their grand escape from it. She knows that Hurley, for a time, was trapped there — even if no such time passed in London, though that was likely for the best.

But no, it is the specifics that Iris wants to hear. The story. Every little girl wants to know how their "parents" met, right?]

Yes, yes, but how. Something about rabbits?

[spelljam]

[ if it feels like a test of her memory, perhaps it is. ]

Very quick, little rabbits, yes. I met your daddy as he is rushing past me, chasing after one. He called it... like Wonderland.

[bestbuds]

[Iris would not be so cruel as to "test" anything of hers. The player, however, might be.]

That comparison makes sense, even without the rabbits. Drawn into a strange new place, where things don't always make sense... overseen by a cruel ruler, or so I've been told.

[Though, of course, she has not been told the worst of it by a long shot. Sholmes has more sense than that.]

[spelljam]

[ nor would Sprezzatura ever tell her the atrocities they endured. she doesn't need such things to trouble her young mind.

but... the trouble is, so much of hers and Herlock's romance is tied up in that terrible awful. how does she talk about it while still excising the worst? ]

Bah! Do not speak of Warden.

1/3

[bestbuds]

Oh... I suppose it is an unpleasant topic, having been trapped there so long. I'm sorry, Sprezzie.

[retroductions]

[Sholmes, having sipped his tea, speaks up, waggling a free hand after placing the cup down on the saucer.]

Oh, but nothing we did not overcome, hm? And an experience I might go through yet again if it guaranteed that we would meet anew. I do remember it clearly, you know! The rabbit, slipping through my grasp! And Ms Vaux, watching with all the serenity in the world as I failed.

Well, even then, from that moment forth, she had my interest!

[bestbuds]

[She smiles, delighted at the retelling. Wishing she was there to have witnessed it herself.]

Because she had looked quite different than anyone you had ever seen before?

[Ah, there it is.]

[spelljam]

Ah. [ the pleasure of Herlock's side of the story, halted by such a simple ask. ] And you want to know why I am not looking different now.

[bestbuds]

[This time, Sholmes does not deign to interrupt. This question was to be expected, surely, sooner or later — and though perhaps an uncomfortable subject, he knows that Iris asks merely out of wonderment and curiosity.

And so, she continues-]

Well, to blend in with the rest of London, of course! But… yes, I do wonder why you appear very human now, when there’s no need to hide who you are between me and Hurley?

[spelljam]

[ it's as if, wherever she goes, there she is. ]

I thought maybe I might try being human for change. And that you might not like what you see. Most humans do not—tieflings could be considered ill omen, after all. I told Herlock this, too... after he [ they ] failed to catch rabbit.

[bestbuds]

[Sholmes is dutifully biting his tongue to correct that with a "they!", instead opting to drink more of his tea with a hum.]

An ill-omen? However can that be? You were one of the reasons why he survived that awful place. And Hurley's only ever described you as very beautiful.

[spelljam]

[ her heart clenches. Sholmes will feel her free hand drift to touch the small of his back. ]

Miss Iris... how are you thinking London might react if one day, perfectly human woman was giving birth to little horned, red-skinned baby? This... indelible mark that her family line has been tainted by some Mephistophelian bargain, that all who see that babe will know their sordid secrets and lay down judgement?

[ you must first know the reason why before you can despise it ]

1/2

[bestbuds]

[This Victorian age in which Sholmes and Iris reside relies so heavily on appearances and legacy. Even at her young age, she knows this — to an extent. A ten-year-old still should possess the innocence of being fully unaware of how deeply certain prejudices run, and Sholmes has made certain to preserve a modicum of that wholesomeness as is reasonable. (There's a reason, after all, why the shoulder patch on Sholmes' coat is a flower... encircled protectively by a gear.)

But even so, the blatant picture Sprezzatura paints leaves no room for doubt.]

Treated unkindly and with fear, I would assume. Oh, but that's not at all fair to the child. They didn't have any control over who their parents are, or their family line.

[retroductions]

[Aha, the tiniest bit of tension runs through Sholmes' back, which Sprezzatura might feel, but his voice is as lilting as ever after he clears his throat to interject.]

Indeed, appearances are vital to navigating London society, an unfortunate truth that I've found asinine on more than one occasion.

[Sholmes, being an eccentric, and who can see through outward appearances quicker than most, of course would think as much.]

But I think what Iris wishes to say, my dear, is that there's no need to hide yourself here among us should you ever want to shed that lovely human disguise.

[spelljam]

[ a tension she ought to feel, but doesn't—if not for her own poor perception, then because she herself is so tense. this is Sprezzatura being tactful, unfortunately, even if her stomach clenches at the sadness in Iris' little face. something as simple as that: that London would be afraid, it hurts for her to think about. Sprezzatura hasn't even said anything about the many, many newborn tieflings who lived only long enough to draw one or two breaths.

and she won't. she will never speak of that again.

but it does linger over her, forever, like a malaise. in a place like Reverie, Herlock had no choice but to accept what was laid out in front of him. he may have told Iris stories, and she may delight at the idea of such an unusual woman ensnaring her daddy like this, but she's still just a girl from London. devils are a different beast here, but they're still beasts. ]

She won't like it.