Sherlock Holmes (
could_be_dangerous) wrote in
cape_kore2013-02-01 12:25 pm
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005 \\ Sherlock Holmes \\ [Video]
[The contrast between Sherlock's usual appearance and his current one is sharp. He looks exhausted, the sort of utterly worn out that hides beneath a burning mania. He's disheveled, what little colour had once been in his face now utterly gone, and his eyes are glossy and feverishly bright. Not good, but who is right now?]
I've two words for the lot of you.
[If it weren't for the fact that his camera is strapped to his wrist, this would be where Sherlock grins and spreads his arms, invokes all the drama appropriate for the current situation. Under the circumstances he must settle for a grin that's manic but far from happy, the huff of a laugh, the sound all strained arrogance and guiltily repressed relief.]
Aerosol. Dispersal.
[He bites his lower lip, oh, oh, got it, must be.]
Saying it for years but nobody believes me: nothing new under the sun.
I've two words for the lot of you.
[If it weren't for the fact that his camera is strapped to his wrist, this would be where Sherlock grins and spreads his arms, invokes all the drama appropriate for the current situation. Under the circumstances he must settle for a grin that's manic but far from happy, the huff of a laugh, the sound all strained arrogance and guiltily repressed relief.]
Aerosol. Dispersal.
[He bites his lower lip, oh, oh, got it, must be.]
Saying it for years but nobody believes me: nothing new under the sun.
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Stupid. Nothing can hurt me.
[Then he shifts, squeezing his eyes shut.] Stop it. No one's talking to you.
[Sighing, he opens his eyes again, and they're back to normal, if tired.] What's aerosol dispersal? I mean -- I know what aerosol dispersal is, but what was dispersed?
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[Sherlock gives a dismissive gesture with his free hand, eyes closing and brow furrowing as though shooing something, as though asking for silence.]
Dartmoor. I had a case. Brilliant. Mysterious death, sightings of a monstrous dog on the moor. All in the vicinity of the Baskerville weapons research facility. Bioweapons. Chemical. Crowd control.
Aerosol dispersal, the sightings were all hallucinations, fear and stimulus. A chemical agent. Experiment run on the local populace, anyone stupid to wander out onto the moors.
I was dosed. It was like this, just like this; look: several of us attempt to escape and days later we all start going mad? It's... it had to be. Drugged; we've all been drugged, best possible explanation under the circumstances.
[He laughs, shakes his head.]
Brilliant. Not wholly original but it'll do.
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Isn't it obvious?
A drug. Hallucinogen. Lowers inhibitions. I've seen something like it before.
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Seen something like it before, though. Lowers inhibitions, induces a fearful state, hallucinogen takes over from there.
It felt like this. Not exactly like this, margin of error, might be wrong.
[He glances sharply to one side, and shakes his head. Not real. Not there.]
Might be. Don't think I am though.
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[Well, maybe.]
Exactly. Not exactly. Didn't I tell you about Baskerville?
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[He holds up one finger. Exhibit A.]
Everyone starts going mad at the same time. Not just mad, itchy mad, paranoid, seeing things; all of us, Sherlock? Well yes, and that's rather odd, don't you think? That's a little bit suspicious, little bit, particularly, ah, given the timing. Yes, now you've got it. Escape attempt. And now this.
Then of course there's Dartmoor; as I said, nothing new under the sun. Military research facility. A drug. Lowers inhibitions, induces fear; present stimulus and add a dose of hallucinogen and you've a bloody brilliant crowd control method, don't you think? I did, then. I do now. It fits. Same substance? Probably not, but it fits.
[The finger remains up, forgotten, for a few more seconds before Sherlock lowers it in an almost sheepish motion.]
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[Because, of course, he can't possibly have been affected by it.]
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[Have the jaunty tip of an imaginary hat.]
Fits. Timing fits, behaviour fits, it all fits.
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You got proof?
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But I've seen it before. This. Something like it.
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Seems I've been mostly immune, I guess.
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[As much sense as drugging a populace can be. Drugs do explain the things she's been seeing.]
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[The tone of his voice changes to something lighter, higher, mocking.]
'How do you know Sherlock?'
[He wrinkles his nose.]
No? It makes sense, just that? Well, at least someone here has half a brain.
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[Sherlock adopts a sympathetic pout.]
Basic reasoning is hard.
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Of the three I'm afraid my answer rather does seem the most likely. Sad, yet true.
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[Is he joking? Is he just an idiot? Nobody knows.]
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Mmm, no, not for me, but have you smelled some of the people here?
[He turns his attention back to the communicator on his wrist.]
Not actually a bad idea, if that's what I were suggesting, which it isn't. Maybe after we've sorted out the hallucinations.
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[Sharon takes a breath. Though shadows still cling beneath her eyes, she's managed to grab a couple hours of sleep, and her thinking is clearer. She's still seeing things, but she can deal. If the hallucinations really are easing, then before long, she won't be seeing any of it anymore. She'll be left to the cold comfort of the trapped village.]
[Still, at least she'll be more aware of reality in the trapped village.]
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Mmm. Well. Not entirely sure you should be thanking me for being the only one of this sorry lot to have bothered to think a bit.
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