tampered | Log | Ongoing

Log | Ongoing | Closed

When; April 2nd, 10am
Rating; Oh geeze idk, nothing over PG13
Characters; Sherlock Holmes

no_commonplace and Hanna Falk Cross

manofgnee
Summary; Hanna gives Holmes a demonstration. A paranormal one. Taking place at Holmes' home away from home, Building 2, room 221.
Log;

The sitting room of Apartment 221 Building 2 was not at all similar to its Baker Street counterpart. There was no cluttered chemistry set, no violin, no preferred armchair, and certainly no Persian slipper with tobacco inside the toe. Money was a little too tight to afford any such luxuries. However, in lieu of all this, there was still enough to make a right mess of the place. Newspapers from the City, all of which well-thumbed, covered most of the floor. On one of the walls, scrawled notes on sheets of paper torn from a small notebook were pinned everywhere. The table before the sofa had a collection of what seemed to be various types of dirt, all categorized into neat little piles.

The cause behind this disarray sat at the coffee table by the window, with a cigarette perched between two of his thin fingers. And as Holmes was expecting a visit, he had dressed and taken breakfast early that morning. It had been a rather exhausting week of throwing aside his attempts to untangle the elusive ways of the City altogether, and obsessing over this very attractive problem which seemed to have no conclusion. This exhaustion showed on his face and in his manner, for he sat with a profoundly tense aura surrounding him.

But that would change soon. If Sherlock Holmes was to understand a problem which he knew nothing about, he would have to acquire the knowledge he did not have. And he was expecting a small piece of that knowledge to knock at his door any minute. Of course, he had been averse to accept anything paranormal as feasible, much less anything he could work in as a fact. However, his attitude had greatly changed over the course of the most recent curse. If something supernatural was going on, then he wanted to know the rules of the supernatural.

A terse glance was thrown to the clock on the distant, dirt-covered table. Hanna wasn't due for another ten minutes. In his impatience, he stood from the table and moved to the wall covered in notes. So many arrows led to blank spaces on the wall. He occupied himself now by rearranging some of the papers, only to place them back again and smooth a hand over his hair in perplexity.

"What do you make of this?" he muttered to a Watson he knew wasn't behind him. "No, no, it is all too arbitrary..." He took a long drag on his cigarette and put it out on a coaster. Unless that piece of knowledge Hanna had to offer would fit into any of those spaces on the wall, he may well be undone.

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Hanna was usually late for his appointments. Things like scheduled appointments and time seemed to slip his mind, and as a result, it often made him appear more scatterbrained and 'off' than he actually was.

But for once, he wasn't late. He was about 10 minutes early, in fact. Sherlock Holmes was one of the greatest detectives ever, and one of Hanna's personal heroes. All he wanted to do was impress him, share knowledge with him.

As he approached the door to Holmes' apartment, his nervousness seemed to grow. What if his demonstration went poorly? What if Holmes wasn't impressed?

But he had to do this. He was going to be fine, he just needed to be confident.

Taking a deep breath, Hanna did a quick check to make sure he had everything he needed with him and knocked on the door.

The door was answered quickly, and the sight of Hanna made all of Holmes' tenseness evaporate. He would have pegged this one as someone who came late to appointments (and he would accuse himself of the same thing) but no matter! He was here, and that was all.

"My dear Hanna! Come in," He said cordially, ushering him inside with a thin hand on his shoulder. The door was shut briskly once he was inside, and he turned to walk to the coffee table.

"No doubt you have been busy adjusting and establishing your private practice." He picked up a silver tin and opened it, presenting it to Hanna in offering of a cigarette. "And I do very much appreciate that you have taken the time to come."

Hanna smiled nervously, giving Holmes a small wave as he entered the apartment. A quick look around, and he was already really impressed.

Sure, it lacked some of the items Hanna had read about in his books, and it was smaller, but it was clearly the home of an intellect with far better things to do than clean.

"I've got a room set up for myself at my friend's apartment, yes. It's small, but it's about the same size as my place back some, so it works for me. Good to see you so settled in, sir."

He smiled again, shaking his head at the cigarette politely. He was the guest, he didn't want to seem rude, but...

"Thanks, but no thanks. Lung condition, I'm really not supposed to smoke. And I'm glad to help! I promised you a demonstration, didn't I?"

"So I had observed," he said as he took a seat. "With a fellow named Watanuki. It must be a nice improvement from a box." He laughed under his breath. "Well, it will do for now. It is missing a few homey elements, but one cannot complain."

With Hanna's reply, he removed a cigarette from the tin for himself and snapped it shut. "I see. Then surely you won't mind if I indulge." He said, blissfully unaware of the dangers of second-hand smoke, as anyone from the nineteenth century would be. He lit a match, and a moment later a puff of smoke rose into the air.

"Indeed you did, and I am glad you are a man of your word! Now, is there anything you need that I can provide for this demonstration?"

Hanna smiled and nodded.
"Watanuki's been good to me, I'm glad to have met people like him here."

For a brief moment, Hanna considered telling Holmes about the health risks of smoking, but ultimately decided against it. People from the 19th century weren't aware of the dangers of smoking, or second-hand smoke.
But a little smoke wouldn't kill Hanna, as long as he wasn't sucking it in personally.

"I try to be a man of my word, sir!"

He beamed a bit, before leaning forward slightly in thought.

"Well...I think I need the room to be completely dark for the best effect...and if you want a second demonstration, I'll need a glass of water."

Holmes gave the faintest illusion of a smile before it was gone, the action more of a display of his eagerness than anything. Once Hanna had finished speaking, he lifted himself from his chair and turned to shut the blinds of each window, then drew the curtains.

"I am afraid that is as dark as it will get," he murmured, sounding disdainful at the small amount of sunlight which still filtered in. He turned from the windows and crossed the dark room to the kitchenette, where the sound of the sink turning on could be heard. He returned and set a glass of water on the coffee table.

No doubt he was very curious as to how this would all unfold, for when he returned to his seat, he sat anxiously with his chin in his hand. "I am all attention."

Hanna grinned a bit, grabbing his marker. Ok, it wasn't as dark as he'd like it to be, but he would still be able to get the effect he needed across.

"Ok, you might wanna watch your eyes...this'll be a bit bright."

Deftly, he removed the marker cap and drew a rune on his hand. He used this one a lot, he knew exactly how it was supposed to work. With a quick clench of the hand, he activated the rune, and suddenly, from his hand, there was a small orb of light, completely under his control.

"See?"

The orb seemed to flicker as Hanna moved his fingers, manipulating the light into various shapes and sizes, before closing his palm and extinguishing it. The rune that had been there was gone, as was the light.

"I can do the water trick too if you'd like..."

Holmes didn't give any reaction until Hanna's palm clenched, and light appeared out of nowhere. Instinctively, he made to get out of his chair in alarm and put out the fire, when he realized it wasn't fire at all.

He was so unused to such surprises that he stared at Hanna with an utmost bewilderment. This expression passed as soon as the light vanished, and he approached the boy. Not minding courtesy, he intruded his personal space a little and observed his hand. He traced his palm with his fingertips for any sign of residue before releasing it. He eyed the marker he was holding skeptically, and shook his head.

"Well, I can deduce hardly anything from this! It seems to be an exothermic reaction produced by whatever chemical was in that thick fountain pen," he pointed to it, "and triggered by either human flesh or friction..."

He looked to Hanna now, and then to the glass of water. "Ah, yes. Do continue, by all means."

Hanna smiled. Holmes did raise a number of very plausible scientific explanations for his little trick, and he deserved another demonstration.

"Ok, here we go."

Whipping out the marker again, he drew a symbol onto the glass of the water, and flicked one of his fingers. Immediately, the water seemed to fly out of the cup, and Hanna smiled a bit. He hadn't done this trick in ages, Lucius didn't really like it due to his dislike of water.

Wiggling his finger a big, he moved the water around, forming shapes and swirling patterns for a few minutes, before flicking his finger again. The water fell back into the cup with a quiet splash, and, as a finishing touch, Hanna clenched his fist again. The symbol on the glass vanished, and the water in the glass froze.

"Ah, there we go. Haven't done that one in a while, was afraid it wouldn't work..."

The surprise this demonstration triggered was stronger than the last. His brows furrowed and eyes widened as the water not only rose from the glass but mutated in the air! When this demonstration ended, Holmes sat in some silence, contemplating the event he had just witnessed.

At some great length, he turned to Hanna with a smile. "Well, I am entirely puzzled. I can think of no chemical that has the capability to cause an exothermic reaction, compromise polarity in such a concentrated area, and change liquids into solids. All at once!" He put out his cigarette and mused for Hanna to have a seat.

"You have successfully proven to me that our worlds have different laws of physics. In your world, is this practice of yours... common?" From the intensity of his stare, it was obvious Holmes was just itching to pick Hanna's brain about this whole thing. But he was still quite reluctant to write it off as "paranormal".

Edited 2010-04-04 00:57 (UTC)

Hanna beamed, glad that he'd managed to prove he wasn't some crazy scientist.

For some reason, he felt more comfortable with the paranormal as apposed to the logical.

At Holmes' last comment, he sighed and shook his head.

"Not as common as it used to be. I only know one other person who knows this kind of magic, my teacher...and even then it's only a hobby for him. As far as I know, I'm the only person who uses this on a regular basis for work...and it's the only form of magic that I know for sure exists."

Despite that, he knew he still had more to tell.

"Despite that, my world is a bit different...we have monsters. Vampires, werewolves, zombies...though really, they're good and bad people like everybody else. My job is supposed to be to stop the bad ones from hurting good people."

Holmes smiled, reflecting briefly on the parallels between them. Hanna felt his practice was uncommon in his world, and Holmes felt the use of logic was rare in his. He pressed a finger to his lips thoughtfully.

"You would be hard pressed to find a man of science who would willingly use the term magic as a serious description of anything... for now, I will think of it as an anomaly." Until he could unravel it a little more.

Had he been in any other setting or situation, Holmes would have scoffed at the mention of such creatures and immediately discredited it. However, having run into a few questionable species during his time in the City, his mind was broadening in order to interpret it. "And these monsters, are they just as the folklore describes them to-"

Folklore. There was a meaningful pause, and he suddenly stood.

"Hanna. A while ago, you mentioned you had read of my adventures." Why had this have escaped his attention earlier? "How can that be if we are from different worlds?" No, it would be impossible. Unless there was some Nega-Holmes running about with his Nega-Watson documenting it.

"That's ok, sir, call it whatever you like. Honestly, I don't really know if its magic or not sometimes..."

He smiled a bit, before frowning.

"Ah...well, there were books written about you and your adventures. They're classics in my world!"

He grinned and was about to go on a long tyrade about how Sherlock Holmes inspired him and all about the books...but then something happened that he hadn't been expecting to happen.
He'd only done some small tricks, but he'd been out of practice with one of them...and he'd been so busy cleaning the water that his body was just catching up to his magic use...

Suddenly, without warning, Hanna doubled over in pain, collapsing to the floor, coughing blood, chest feeling like it was on fire.

He'd forgotten to mention the side effects...

Holmes would have pressed more on that point, but he noticed the sudden change in Hanna's character. He had been about to ask if he was all right, but he was a little too late. This time his instinct to rise from his chair was not in vain, and he hurried to Hanna's side with concern. This concern elevated when he saw the blood on the floor.

"Hanna!" He put a firm grasp on the boy's shoulder, uncertain of what to do. Normally (for Holmes' time, anyway), coughing up blood was a sign that death was right around the corner. But what the cause had been, he was entirely unaware. Had it been poor health (he had mentioned earlier that a lung condition prevented him from smoking, which would explain the blood...) or was it the effect of those curious stunts he pulled earlier?

A feeling of powerlessness swept through him. He couldn't explain it, and he couldn't help him.

Hanna coughed again, trying and failing to keep the blood in.

Honestly, he wasn't surprised this had happened...he always was a bit more susceptible to the side effects of doing magic, given who (what) he was...
Never made it pleasant, though.

He just wished the side effects had waited until he got home...
Hanna laughed weakly, trying to get up, before doubling over again. He was suffering a buildup, his good fortune for being able to do magic without worry during the last curse gone.

"...s...sorry, sir...di..didn't mean to ruin your rug...side effect buil...buildup, I think..."

Once again, he tried to get up, failing and collapsing onto the floor with a slight groan.

"...ow."

Holmes withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket, which was thankfully common in his era, and pressed it into Hanna's hand. It would have taken a colder person than even Sherlock Holmes to worry about his rug over the seemingly dying person on top of it.

When Hanna tried to get up, Holmes' frustration seemed to come out, and somewhat callously. "Come now, don't over-exert yourself!" But a floor was really a poor place to recover. "Pardon me," he said before picking up Hanna from the floor and making for the couch. Holmes had a good foot on the boy, and did have a considerable amount of strength and energy. But even still, Hanna was surprising light... he would keep that in mind and ask about it later.

"I should have some brandy," he muttered as he set Hanna on the couch, whisking away to the kitchenette. Oh, if only his comrade were here, this was certainly more of a doctor's field than a detective's.

Hanna smiled gratefully, coughing into the handkerchief, making a mental note to get him a new hankie later.

"Sorry...usually it's not this bad...think there's a build up from the curses..."

His gratitude seemed to give away to worry as he was picked up and placed onto the couch. Holmes was brilliant, he'd realize that Hanna was lighter than a normal person...oh God, what if he wanted him to take his shirt off?

He took a deep breath. No, he'd be ok, this could be worse. There weren't any ghosts, so it wasn't the end of the world.

"Brandy...sounds excellent, thanks..."

"So you have been using this method recently," he retorted as he poured a shot of brandy into a short glass. He returned to the couch and presented the glass to Hanna, then took a seat in the adjacent chair.

Hanna had reason to worry, but Holmes did have some tact in knowing when and where to ask questions. For now, while he was recovering, Hanna wouldn't have to worry about any prying inquiries.

"If that is the case, I am of equal blame. I made you make an exhibit of your practice, not knowing the consequence it would bring." He leaned back a little in his chair and fixed Hanna with a curious gaze. "Do the ends justify the means? Using such a reckless method like that..."

Well, he couldn't exactly preach on that. No, his bottle of cocaine was calling him a hypocrite right about now.

"Oh, no, the side effects happen all the time...though they usually aren't so bad. I'd been cleaning out the water sort of nonstop, so...really, I think this was inevitable."

He laughed weakly, gratefully accepting the brandy, taking the shot with a slight shiver. Oh, that felt good.

"No, sir, it's not your fault, really!! I didn't know it would happen today, or at all! I hadn't really done any magic since getting here, so the water purifying probably took more out of me than I realized, and...well, here we are."

He laughed again, starting to feel better already. That was the good thing about magical side effects. They were horrible when they happened, but lying down and relaxing for a short time helped, and they went away almost as fast as they came. At least they weren't permanently damaging like some things that Hanna had come into contact with.

He returned Holmes' curious look with a determined gaze, fire sparking in his eyes.

"I do what I can to help people. I know the risks I'm at, but if I can keep one person safe, then it'll be worth it in the end."

Holmes wasn't convinced enough to assuage his small guilt, but Hanna's improvement made him worry less about it.

"Well, you are welcome to my couch for as long as you need to recover. I won't ask any more of you today, although what you have provided already has been quite enlightening." Even though he was anxious to know more, there was no need to test Hanna's limits over it. He knew when to draw the line.

The response and determination the other gave brought out a faint smile from the detective. "Then you are a commendable fellow. Not many are capable of such selflessness."

He rose from the chair and retreated to the spot where Hanna's blood was still scattered across the rug. He knelt down and inspected it, but as much as he wanted to, he didn't pose any questions.

"I'm just glad I was able to help! Or show off, I guess...I'll be fine. The side effects are really temporary, at best only a few minutes, at worst maybe a few hours. I should be ok soon."

He gave Homes another winning grin in response to Holmes' own smile, feeling very warm and fuzzy inside.

"Well, I try...I can do what I do for a reason, so I should use it to help people. A lot of people back home need my help..."

His smile faded as a brief wave of homesickness swept over him, and briefly, he wondered if they even knew he was gone.

It seemed like Holmes was hardly listening at this point, as he was scouring the documents of his coffee table for a piece of litmus paper. He knelt again and dragged it across the bit of blood that was still fresh. It was only when he murmured a reply that it became obvious he had been listening.

"If it is enough to soothe your worry, I will tell you that my observations thus far have led me to a very interesting theory." He turned to Hanna and stood. "The time spent in the City does not reflect the time that passes in our respective worlds. I have testimonies to support this." The litmus paper was slipped onto the coffee table, and no further allusion to it was made.

"When you return to your world, you will in all probability return during the point in time you had left it."

At this, Hanna seemed to relax, smile returning.

"Oh, good...I worry about them back home. I mean, I know they're perfectly capable of handling themselves without me, probably even more so when I'm not there...but, well, they're my friends."

He blushed a bit, shaking his head.

"I wonder what it all means, though...the lack of passing time outside the city, the whole ticking thing...this place is like a clock counting down to something...but I don't know what..."

Lost in his musings, Hanna never noticed the litmus paper.

Holmes returned to his seat across from Hanna, leaning back again and folding his hands. It was quite difficult not to think of the ones left behind, but it was all the more reason Holmes was so adamant about finding a way back. "Yes. Well, it is meaningless to dwell on the thought when currently nothing can be done about it."

When the conversation turned to clock references, Holmes couldn't help but let an excited smile pass. "Ah yes, the clock." He straightened up in his seat, pressing a finger to his lips again in thought. "I have a feeling in my gut that the clock holds the key to unraveling all of this. It lies underneath the Carousel, so I have heard. I plan to inspect it soon, but I am waiting until I am certain there will be no curse."

His eyes darted to the wall with the notes, and down to the newspapers. "But I cannot find a pattern. It all seems too arbitrary."

"The problem is actually getting to the clock. It's underground...and apparently there are creatures in the underground. Sort of monsters or something...I think they're down there to discourage people from investigating, which makes me wonder if somebody once got too close for the deities to feel comfortable..."

Hanna sighed, glancing at the notes and newspapers.

"I don't know if there IS an exact pattern, which is part of the problem. The deities who run this place act randomly...I'm trying to find a connection between the curses, and the only thing I've gotten is that they're all meant to mess with the people living here. Make them uncomfortable or scare them..."

He frowned, sitting up and leaning forward.

"They're hiding something...I want to know what. I can fight off whatever is down below, I can try to look at the clock. Find out why it ticks in peoples heads when they're on their own."

Holmes looked up from his musings to Hanna with some element of surprise. A very brief smile snuck across his face before it was gone. "Your thoughts and mine are in complete agreement."

He rubbed his hands together with anxiousness. "If we are after the same piece of information, it is only logical that we combine our efforts. Unless of course you would prefer I work independently." His tone made the last comment seem to be more of a dismissal than a suggestion.

"If the occurrences of these curses has no pattern, then it is impossible for us to have a controlled environment." Like such a thing ever really existed in this enigma of a city. "In this situation, we might as well see to it as soon as possible, and learn what we can."

Hanna grinned a bit.

"Well, if we both think that, we must be on the right track."

Hanna's eyes widened a bit and for a moment, he was stunned speechless. Work...with Sherlock Holmes? That was like a dream come true!

"I'd...I'd be honored to work with you, sir...And I've been keeping a curse diary...looking to see if there are any repeated curses, because if there are, that may give us insight into how the curses are chosen and why..."

Holmes hid his flattery well, but it was still apparent in the twitch of a smile across his face. "Splendid. Yes, I recall your mention of it. It is good of you to do so, you have intuition and will go far in your field."

He stood from his chair and walked to one of the windows, pushing back the curtain and lifting the blinds again. "I have been grappling for threads, but it is not an easy task to cover such a broad area with accuracy. I am accustomed to having a mystery at one end, but at both..." He turned to the couch again, eyes ablaze with a sudden eagerness.

"The sooner the better, but if there is a chance we can increase our advantage, we must wait and take it. You will keep me updated on your findings? I will of course do the same in return. I have a few theories I should like to test, the results of which may be very interesting."

Hanna beamed a bit, blushing at the praise. He wasn't always the best investigator or detective out there, so when he did something right, being praised always made him feel fuzzy.

Squinting a bit at the light, he nodded.

"The problem is that there isn't a specific threat or crime to solve, it's just a really open ended investigation with few straws to grasp at..."

He nodded at Holmes' question.

"If I find anything else, I'll let you know. I'm gonna keep up my investigation, maybe explore other parts of the city. There's apparently a garden here, Xanadu, that doesn't seem to be affected by the really awful curses..."

"Indeed," he said lamentably. Hanna hit the nail on the head, there. Because there was no crime or criminal mastermind involved in this giant plot (putting the question of the deities aside) establishing any truths through analytical reasoning was extremely difficult. That wouldn't stop him from making the attempt, though.

"Good man. Yes, as to that garden..." he drew up to the coffee table before the sofa, which looked more like a geologist's desk than a place to put beverages. He scanned the piles of dirt and pointed to one. On a small piece of paper, the word "Xanadu" labeled three of them. "I have taken the liberty of extracting samples in the hopes of finding something suggestive in relation to the rest of the City's terrain."

His smile wilted a little. "However... lack of funds currently prevent me from having the proper tools to study these samples." He ran a hand over his hair as he shook his head. The odds were really against them.

Hanna peered over at the dirt, nodding.

"I could go down and get plant samples, see if maybe there's something in the life there that makes it special."

He nodded sadly at Holmes' comment.

"I wish I could help with the funds, but...well...I'll find a way to get the supplies we need. I just need to think of something."

"Excellent idea." He glanced up at Hanna's second comment and shook his head.

"No no, if it is a matter of money I will handle it myself. For now, only concern yourself with your investigation. As for me... I believe I will give my attention to the fountain today." As he spoke, he was already rustling around for his lens (which had thankfully been on his person during his arrival) and network device, pocketing them both.

"And you," he passed behind the couch and gave Hanna a sturdy pat on the shoulder, "must commit yourself to a speedy recovery. Again, you are free to my couch for however long you need," he disappeared into another room for a moment, and emerged with a coat. "But I beg you not to touch anything. Everything is in its proper order."

Hanna smiled and shook his head.

"Thank you very much, sir, but I think I'm feeling well enough to get home and rest there, though the offer is appreciated."

He grinned and winked at Holmes, moving to get up, blushing slightly at the pat on the shoulder.

"I'm just glad I was able to be of some help today."

"Good to hear!" He mused for Hanna to come with him to the doorway. "Then we will go our separate ways from here. Yes yes, and believe me when I say that I am extremely grateful for the light you have shed on the situation." He opened the door and stood beside it, giving Hanna one last glance.

"Oh, and... you may keep that," he said in reference to the now-bloodied handkerchief.

Hanna nodded and followed him, smiling.

"I'll get you a new one, promise. Thank you for everything, really. I hope we managed to make some progress, and when I find something else, I'll let you know!"

And with a smile and a wave, Hanna was gone, feeling rather cheerful about the whole encounter, and eager to continue his investigation.

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