ataraxion | [video] In which one of the Sherlocks is as cool as motherfucking shit.

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[video] In which one of the Sherlocks is as cool as motherfucking shit.

[ There's a jostle, and a familiar, fluctuating voice can be heard. ]

Hang on, I think I fucking got it. It's all in my pocket and shit, all up in here. Cozy like a motherfucking rainbow.

[ He laughs, and it's more like a sputtering chortle and--yup, there it is. A tell-tale honk as the gray-skinned troll pulls the device out of wherever it's been--it looks like under a sheet of some sort--and there's a huge clutter of various things strewn around the room. One of which is the mattress that used to make up the bed. ]

Motherfuck, there we go. So hey, world. I've got something pretty motherfucking important to share with you.

[ And, in the corner, a pie tray filled with neon green goo, half eaten. One of his very last pies. And also in the background that's--

Yup. The second Sherlock Holmes. ]

All you motherfuckers, I've come to a realization. This ship. Is, like, a motherfucking case. We need to solve.

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My repression is a choice far healthier then your hedonistic tendencies.

And when, inevitably, the mind begins to crawl and seethe at the edges and you've no chemical means of distraction, and do pray tell, how would you suggest to push past the situation, my dear?

[ Oh that sets him on edge. Just a little, but there's a bit of venom in his voice ]

Nicotine. It may perhaps be, less refined than our current choice of poison. But it remains a somewhat decent alternative.

I should, perhaps, remind you that I currently hold far more quantities of substances that may pique your interest then what your little napkin has made available, dearest.

[ Yup. Dealing Drugs. To. Himself. Y U P ]

Jeering at my poisons while you knowingly ingest others, well. I certainly do carry that hypocrisy in spades. Is it any good, at least?

[ o k a y you are sending me mixed messages here, man, but Sherlock has sufficiently piqued Holmes' interests, at the very least. ] Elaborate, sweet heart.

[ Gamzee nudges Sherlock away from the comm, eyes still glazed over. ]

Hey now, we don't have to motherfucking fight.

Of course we do. It's the only debate that's on my level.

It is a debate. We've yet to get petty.

I wouldn't be so sure.

Mycroft.

You started it.

That's motherfucking whack.

You two need to get your love on.

Because you need love and mutual motherfucking acceptance to deal with each other.

Or respect each other.

We respect each other, obviously. Love on the other hand is another subjective matter.

Alright, alright, but you gotta chill the fuck off, man.

At least don't motherfucking kill another and I think you're okay.

Considering your talking to John about ingesting cyanide then I don't think quality is so much of a concern.

[ He's on to you, Mr. Sherlock "Let me Put it Under my Nose and Sniff it" Holmes ]

Elaboration is that, simply I'm in possession of a finer grade of quality and a far bigger quantity of said poison .

[ He's not telling you where John hid it, NOPE. that would be like giving away a treasure map. ]

Edited 2012-01-24 05:18 (UTC)

No, you aren't, darling.

[ Said to the one next to him with a roll of the eyes.

Oh hi, it's John again, sitting next to Sherlock somewhat in the same frame. Between their broadcasts, they make the full picture.

Attention on Holmes now, a quirk of a brow and a glower. ]

Put away your measuring sticks, boys.

The winner is the one with the least amount of dependence. You lose, Holmes.

Stop trying to justify yourself by putting Sherlock on your level. You should be ashamed.

[ Ok, this is cruel of him. He knows it is. But when you're trying to yank Sherlock off the wagon... ]

Edited 2012-01-24 05:23 (UTC)

Speaking in jest -

[ honestly sherlock you should give sherlock a break ]

[ But otherwise, his attention is drawn directly to John, and if there's a flash of ire in his eyes then it's only overshadowed by an overarching sense of wounded pride. But Watson's always been the more quiet kind of dissent. ]

Yes, well, your opinion would be the biased one, wouldn't it? You doctors are all so wrapped up in your tidiness and three square meals.

{ Turning to John. Not believing he just called him- Sherlock - me, uh. That. Totally getting into John's frame, and occupying a third of it. ]

Well, Honey. As much as I am glad you are trying to categorize us with your measuring stick of dependancy - would you stop mummying and let me have a proper discussion with myself.

Stop scrutinizing Holmes, that his John's job.

Edited 2012-01-24 05:32 (UTC)

[ What the hell, Sherlock, go away. Hand against your chest, trying to reclaim his frame again by pushing you back over. ]

Well he's not here, is he?

You're not having a discussion - you're trying to have a competition over something stupid. Really demeans your talents, actually.

[ No Holmes or Sherlock is safe. ]

[ Holmes has just opened his mouth in retaliation, his rebuttal gathered - if sloppily, in his current state - when John speaks up, and, oh. There's something immediately sobering. His gaze is riveted directly onto him. ]

We maintain a firm grasp of the obvious.

[ It's incredibly annoying how deep the subject cuts him at present, but with Watson as such an indeterminable feature - ] This entire ship demeans my talents. I did not - [ Die, essentially, but he doesn't say, just. Splutters, covers up his discomfort with indignation. ] - just for this - !

[ He's getting a little bit embarrassed seeing that look on you Holmes. He knows how familiar that is, at present. Genuinely unaware of what he would have done without John. But in order for John not to see the blatant need in Holmes he retaliates John's hand by treading forward and attempting to obscure the soldier's vision, cropping him out of frame. ]

The ship is a cleverly disguised insult. Too many conclusions and theories can be formed and people are just lining up to attempt to solve it. Suiting facts to their theories and making one capital mistake to the other.

[ He's speaking rapidly, attempting to change the subject ]

Edited 2012-01-24 07:28 (UTC)

[ It might be too late, Sherlock. The flash of something is more than nothing, and if John looks sorry, well, that's thrown off by Sherlock's hand, too. He grunts, trying to snatch up the other's wrist and pull it away. There's a glower of what are you doing, but as Sherlock begins to speak of the ship, John lets go slowly.

He's silent, looking between the two, willing to slip back into the role of silence as they speak. This topic is alright. ]

[ He directly shifts his attention from John for the time being, focusing on Sherlock instead. ]

Clearly. New details being paramount in a place that doesn't so eagerly want to supply them - as you'll understand, I've already hit my proverbial wall, and thus further talents will be wasted determining an insurmountable unifying factor between those who are here that might lead to a reasoning as to why I was so suddenly uprooted from an irrevocably important case, but in simultaneously lacking that new information while unable to return home to that which is familiar -

[ And, oh, John is getting a look now, something that is much more seething than he means, but he's the injured animal lashing out unnecessarily, perhaps. ] So I suppose this will have to suffice.

[ Message received, Holmes. John hefts his chin just slightly, jaw flexing almost imperceptibly.

What makes you think he'll allow you to even suffice on him? ]

[ He thought that too, this was his first reason for intake while on the ship. The words feel familiar. Oh, he has this distinct feeling that's going to illicit some reaction in John. Possibly about him being insufferable, he slides back into his own communication device. Sherlock is out of frame but the voice is heard. ]

I do realize how insufferable that makes me sound, but - the ne- [ lets amend that ] the want, and the reason for his current proposition and my former relapse, should ring true to both our ends. Not that I'm going to go in there to suddenly lick at the ends of their pie John, but the point Holmes makes is a valid one.

[ John, he's trying to make you understand. ]

[ He sees the chin raise, and his own jaw clenches just as much at such a familiar sight, his teeth grinding as Sherlock speaks. For some reason, this annoys him, all of it, especially John and especially the attempt to bridge between them, like there's that one extra step there that he knows is there but he doesn't want it to be there, so the reminder stings on top of everything else. This has been a sufficient buzzkill. ]

Ah, so you did suffer a relapse. I thought so. Now, imagine, you've been here for a month, and were notably free of all lesser activities before that. I wonder, then, how much longer it will take for a total return to the more strange of habits, I wonder?

[ Gosh, now he's just at both of them. Childish, stubborn, done with them for the time being now that his good times with the clown thing have been ruined. ] I hardly need a translator, thank you -

[ so that's his phone hanging up yes ]

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