OPEN POST; [ HERLOCK SHOLMES / TGAA ]

[retroductions]

(( hold you in my dreams ))

Comments

[spelljam]

[ stop, you're both going to make her cry. ]

You are very grown up little girl.

[bestbuds]

[They will not stop. Though Iris seems pleased to have earned the compliment.]

Oh, well, someone has to be, in order to take care of Hurley.

[She jokes — though there is the sense that Iris might exude more level-headedness than Sholmes himself at times.]

[spelljam]

[ there is. she does. she is so grown up. ]

And who takes care of tsvetok?

[bestbuds]

Oh? “Tsvetok?”

[spelljam]

Little flower. [ points a finger ] You. Has "Hurley" been teaching you nothing?

[retroductions]

[Sholmes barks a laugh; Iris seems nothing but pleased by the pet name.]

Come now, I teach her all the things that matter in life. My own mind only has so much room for excess, besides — what it lacks, perhaps you can make up for, my dear.

[spelljam]

Does your wife's own language not matter?

[ she's giving him a hard time. the hand resting upon his back slips away—this time to extend to Iris as she picks up her teacup once more with the other.

the ring glitters upon her finger. she holds her hand as steady as she can for the girl to see. ]

I want you to do something for me.

1/2

[retroductions]

Ah, of course, of course. I will add it to the list — no doubt she can grasp the basics of Russian within a week.

[Not Sholmes dishing out homework to Iris, though the girl probably would enjoy it. And has even more motivation to do so, now that Sprezzatura is here.]

[bestbuds]

[Meanwhile, Iris remains focused on that ring — it sparkles beautifully in the light, though her eyes flick up to meet Sprezzatura's upon the request.]

And what's that, Sprezzie?

[spelljam]

[ lays her hand down upon Iris' knee. ]

Would you take my ring?

[bestbuds]

Your ring? Oh…

[She cannot imagine why the ring has any bearing, but to ask would be silly. She’s about to find out.

So she nods, and-]

Of course.

[-with permission given, gently slips the ring off her finger.]

/2

[spelljam]

[ her fingers flex at the last second—a repressed urge to curl them and bar the ring's removal. ]

[velluminous]

[ the disguise washes away. like watercolours, blue flooding from the core of her and down to the tips of her fingers, which taper into dark, clawed points. her eyes flood, too, to a violet so deep they nearly present black—pupil and sclera and all. the sprouting of tall, straight horns, and the shade shedding from her hair until it has returned to its chestnut hue. now, curled around her ankles, a tail. the faint, warm smell of burning. teeth like so many fangs in a tense mouth.

here she is. this is her. ]

[bestbuds]

[Now, no one here is surely naive enough to believe Iris would not show any surprise on her features. Sprezzatura's true form is new and unusual for her to see, even if all she does see matches everything Hurley has described to her. And though the detective no doubt painted a flattering, possibly embellished picture, she too gazes on nothing before her that wasn't characterized in loving detail.

To view it in person is still quite an experience. Iris can easily see the devilish parallels — why, she thinks she even catches the faintest whiff of burning. But all else seems a sharp, pointed elegance. The curve of her tail, the line of her horns, the darkness of her eyes that might compel a man to think her mysterious. Ohh, maybe that's one of many things that made Hurley fall for her, isn't that an exciting thing to think about?

But moreover: Sprezzie's tense. This is an act of trust, and Iris finds that such a precious thing. If her hand is still in her lap, she cannot help but give it an excitable squeeze.]

Hurley was right. You are uniquely beautiful. And so grand.

[This ten year old girl, already faced with someone she is keen to look up to, will of course subscribe grandness and admiration to Sprezzatura from the start. She's even inches more taller with those horns!]

It's no wonder daddy fell in love with you!

/3

[velluminous]

[ the hand-squeeze makes her jump, and— ]

[velluminous]

[velluminous]

[ snf. snf. ]

Oh, why could Waterdeep not have been more like you?

1/2

[bestbuds]

[OH NO

She squeezes her hand again, doing the best she can to reassure her.]

Don’t cry, Sprezzie. You’re in 221B now! Where the both of us love how you look!

[A reprieve from Waterdeep for now, she means.]

[retroductions]

[Aha. The reactions of both are unsurprising to Sholmes, and he just leans to the side to place a kiss on Sprezzatura’s cheek.]

It’s as Iris says. Nothing to be done about the judgment of the past, but there is comfort in knowing the ones that love you now do so for who you are, through and through.

[Honestly, she fits right into this strange little family.]

[velluminous]

[ Sprezzatura's hand feels so small and frail in Iris'. she squeezes back like a dying woman, throat swollen nearly shut, and flinching back from the shame of how hot her cheek when Sholmes kisses it.

if there had only been love... how different her life? ]

You both are really... too much...

1/2

[bestbuds]

[NOOO NO SAD (even if it's the good kind) ALLOWED!! Holds onto her hand as though it is the only anchor she can give her 🥺]

Only in a good way, I hope.

[retroductions]

[Sholmes pipes up, seeing an opportunity to inject a bit of energy into the conversation at hand to spare his wife of the what-ifs that must be making home in her head.]

I think it's time for a bit of music! Perhaps a smidge of dancing to go along ith it! After all, Iris, you've not seen this wonderful form of hers in motion!

[what a way to phrase it]

What do you say?

[velluminous]

[ startled back to herself, Sprezzatura dabs the corners of her eyes with a pinky finger. ]

Dancing? Haah. [ thickly ] I suppose why not.

[retroductions]

[He stands, up like a shot, and offers her a grin. They'll get her smiling again yet.]

In which case... gramophone or violin?

[velluminous]

I would love to hear you play, Herlock.

[ in a tone that, perhaps to Iris' delight, drips of "I love you, Herlock" ]