OPEN POST; [ SHERLOCK HOLMES / ACD/GRANADA ]

[ratiocinations]

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[ratiocinations]

[Unsurprisingly, the warrant for Clea’s arrest was still active.

But fortunately, this meant Holmes could look forward to implementing the more interesting option of smuggling her into Sickert’s exhibition. The work on his end, at least, was barely work at all. Easy enough to procure an invitation when his name is known, offering some semblance of extra publicity to the event, which was welcomed without question. His request for a plus one, his elderly grandmother who still held a fondness for art, was accepted just as easily — despite the reality of this relation being dead now for two decades. But who was to question it? None, not when the nature of Holmes’ family (excluding his brother) was nearly as mysterious as the cases he loved to unravel.

No, most of the work had been Clea’s burden to bear, from the travel to the disguise itself, though Holmes’ had called in a few favors to make the former less of a trial. He awaits her now, at the steps to the grand building housing the exhibition itself, already drawing in a steady crowd of invitees to the esteemed National Gallery.

Is he dressed for the occasion? Well. Yes and no. It’s his usual mode of professionalism — pressed white shirt beneath a black waistcoat, coupled with black trousers, a matching frock coat, and black gloves. Top hat and walking stick, too, of course. Tall and somewhat lanky, he’s a difficult figure to miss if one knows who they’re looking for.]

[repaintress]

[ Part of Clea feels guilty. She'd enjoyed being smuggled over the Channel. Verso is dead and she is enjoying herself. Does she have that right? She does not know: some days when she awakens she thinks that the world must continue and that she must show Alicia, Maman, and Papa a way forward. Other days, she wakes and her thoughts are consumed with justice, the only pleasure she can find being to imagine the suffering she is going to visit on those who hurt her family. And still others, she wonders if matters would be proceeding more smoothly if she'd been in Alicia or Verso's positions.

Today is one of the better days. There is a small drip of joy in transforming herself under her acquaintance's directives, in donning clothing that is not her own, and in stooping her way through the doorway.

It is liberating to shed the mantle of Clea Dessendre, even if only for a single night. And in such an interesting fashion no less! It's work, but stimulating work, to remember to constantly be aware of her body and how she moves. Having spent her entire life cultivating grace, it proves to be quite the satisfying challenge to act in the opposite way, to channel the movements of someone whose body is failing them.

And nobody looks at her. Nobody whispers as she passes, nobody approaches her to offer condolences or extract information. She is completely invisible. It's a change and, surprisingly, a welcome one.

Clea spots Monsieur Holmes at the bottom of the stairs and hobbles towards him, ever the image of the elderly lady. When close enough, she tilts her head up to make eye contact, mischievous twinkling eyes showing she's having a grand time. She offers an 'unsteady' arm, inviting him to 'help' her up the stairs. ]

I'm so happy to see you! I've missed you - I wish you would visit more.

[Elderly women always wish people would visit more. Why, Clea isn't certain. Don't they have hobbies?]

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[He’s patient; waiting and observing those who come and go. There are many little details in the individual that could give him entrainment in deducing their daily habits, enough that it might keep his mind occupied until his companion arrives — though she does not keep him waiting terribly long.

There she is, not looking at all how he imagines her to really be beneath that rather convincing disguise. How funny that this is how they meet face-to-face for the first time, still leaving an air of mystery between them. After all, she very much looks the part, grey-haired and hunched over, hobbling with the use of a cane as though she were a decrepit yet somehow lively thing, all the same. Determined to be here.

Holmes smiles congenially, though it is impossible for him to not hike up a brow even slightly when he catches the glint in her eyes. Ah, so she’s enjoying herself.]

Oh, you’ll have to forgive me, grandmother. You know I keep a busy schedule, and the ferry always makes me feel incurably queasy.

[This isn’t true, but if they’re making stuff up, then why not. Holmes hooks his arm with hers, unimpeded by the height difference as he leads her up the stairs. Already, the establishment feels abuzz with anticipation.]

I’ll be sure to make it up to you soon enough. Tell me, how was the trip? Not terribly exciting, I assume?

[Legitimate question. Any trouble on the way?]

[repaintress]

[ Clea tuts under her breath, sounding for all the world like a judgemental elderly woman, and loops her arm in his to be guided up the stairs. That part of the evening will be more annoying: She won't be able to explore on her own. On the other hand, when she reviews the exhibit, people will be beside themselves figuring out how she attended when there is no indication she left Paris. ]

Too busy for your grandmother. In my day, people respected their elders.

[ She puts her other arm on top of their interlinked arms, 'using' it to 'steady' herself even more. It would be tempted to use a singular gait, to struggle the same going up each and every stair, but in her observations Clea has noted that movement varies from step to step. She needs to move within a range of feebleness if she wants to sell the ruse.

And she very much does. Even if part of her would rather rush forward and hope for a chance to enjoy the portraits before the area is too crowded.

Sacrifices must be made. She'll convince Sikert to give her a private showing at a later date. ]

It's much easier to travel now than it was when I was a girl, but service has declined. They left me waiting for over an hour. We didn't treat our elders that way.

[ Oh, being this grumpy is fun. Perhaps Clea will go out as an old woman more often. The trip across had gone well except for a slight lack of timeliness on the part of his contacts. That seemed like something he should know just in case he needed to arrange a trip where timeliness was of the essence.

Leaning in as they walked through the door, Clea tilts her head towards the right. ]

There are some older pieces on display. I want to look at them.

[ And elderly people get to be demanding. Yes, she is looking forward to this life stage more and more. ]

sorry for the delay!!

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[He must give her credit where it's due — she'd make for a good actress as she is a Paintress. Holmes himself is quite familiar with the art, what with him donning disguises more than a few times for a myriad of cases, the attention to detail needed, the small gestures that really sell a role.]

I have nothing but respect for you, grandmother. You are the only member of my family with any sense about you.

[Have no doubt that Holmes takes pleasure in making these little comments about his own family, finding humor in how it acts as a backhanded remark against Mycroft — but ony because it's funny, really, not because he harbors any ill-will.]

And is that so? Perhaps it was mere timing; the season is the height of travel, after all, though next time, I'll take more care with my planning.

[He hears it for what it is: a lack of expeditiousness during a few or all branches of the journey. Holmes will have to follow up on that later, but it's not currently the priority. Instead, once indoors, he removes his hat, holding it beneath the same arm as his walking stick, and casts his gaze in the direction she indicates.]

Yes, yes, as you like. I may have to push through the crowd on your behalf.

[Indeed, a crowd has ammassed. Nothing unteneable, but surely not as peaceful and solitary as she'd likely prefer.]

Me too - I got sick -_-

[repaintress]

That is true, isn't it?

[ Acting isn't a skill that Clea's spent much time perfecting; the natural actor in the family had always been Verso. Still, she finds that the effort requires the perfect amount of thought: Just enough has to go into her efforts to sound elderly, in good humor, and quietly contemptuous that she can't get dragged under by the ever-swirling whirlpool of emotions that seems to have taken up permanent residence inside of her after the fire.

And it's true: She is the only member of the family with any sense. It feels good to voice the sentiment, even if it's only in passive agreement. Alicia cannot be expected to have sense, but Maman and Papa should know better.

His offer to push through the crowd for her earns him a small smile as she peers up at him. ]

You're a good grandson.

[ In other words: Yes, do exactly that. Post-haste. Ideally, two minutes ago, but Clea will settle for 'immediately'. ]

We need to examine his oldest pieces and then go straight to his newest. That will show you the contrast in the work and help you to appreciate the changes.

[ Clea has a vision in mind for how's she's going to experience this night and she will not be swayed. It is her first indulgence since the fire, is it so wrong to demand it go as perfectly as possible? ]

Then, we will circle back again and look at the pieces in order, so that we can truly appreciate the evolution of the style. Pay attention to where certain changes originate. Try to pinpoint the underlying pattern driving the evolution of style.

[ Monsieur Holmes had mentioned the most useful aspect of this outing to him was its potential in helping him to apprehend forgers. For the average person, memorizing enough of every major artist in European history would be too cumbersome. He is far from average, but he wants to keep his knowledge light. In which case, what is important to know is that an artist's development nearly always follows a larger pattern. Often, forgeries that would pass the eye of the uninformed are revealed when they're viewed by someone who can see a part of the piece which does not fit the artist's evolution. ]