But you may as well be saying it to her with your body language. Honestly!
[HOOKS THEIR ARMS TOGETHER AGAIN]
This is for your own good, so steel yourself! Irene will be returning in a few seconds’ time, and she will be inclined to lean her lovely head against your shoulder as your beachside trek continues onward. I may as well warn you about it now!
[Stubborn as he is, Sholmes just continues to hold his arm out expectantly.]
I admit that it utterly confounds me to guess at what you could be so afraid of. Do you think I will bite? Or try to suddenly ravage you in the sand? This is but a short, mildly flirtatious stroll.
It is simple. I am trying to deduce where the problem lies. You balk at a beautiful stranger paying fond attention to you — but is the reaction the same when it is little more a common, familiar face? And if so, then I suspect the issue is not a matter of flustered embarrassment, or social clumsiness when it comes to romantic endeavors, but rather the very concept of physical intimacy on the whole. Even if it is only between friends.
[ It is still probably a matter of embarrassment or clumsiness, at least somewhat, but the rest of that... what is it with people lately? Not for the first time today, he feels like someone has seen right through him, to some truth that he didn't even know about until it was pointed out.
He turns away, shoving his hands in his pockets. ]
I'm built for war, Herlock. Not romance, and definitely not intimacy. Whatever people think they want from me, I can't give it to 'em. And if I had somethin' like that before I became... this, it was lost along with the rest of my memories.
[—is his only reply for a lingering moment, turning that response over in his head. But then he shuffles purposefully into Juzo’s periphery, not allowing him to turn away completely.]
What you were built for should not override what you want, my friend. Now, I hardly have the right to say whether or not you should desire romantic pursuits in the first place, but it is a shame to hear you restrict yourself in such a way. You have a kind, caring heart and an indomitable spirit. You have as much to offer a partner as anyone else I know, at least where it counts the most.
[ As much as he'd like to look away again, and keep looking away, something about Sholmes' sincerity catches him an holds him there. It sits entirely at odds with the situation, the ridiculousness of the other man's garb and the part he'd been playing a moment ago, but the absurdity doesn't seem to register. ]
I've made peace with a lot of things about myself, but that's the one thing I can't seem to reconcile.
[It is ridiculous, but Sholmes thrives in ridiculousness, in performative displays that obscure his true deliberations. He is just allowing sincerity to bubble out from beneath its usual hiding place — that, and he feels comfortable enough in a dress that he hardly gives it a second thought. It is just but another set of clothes.]
Maybe someday you will be able to.
[And yet it is not his place to force him into one decision or another. This “date” was meant for acclimation, not for undoing a more deeply held insecurity that Sholmes could not account for.]
…ah, well. With this new data, I think we should re-contextualize this outing. Irene Adler is not your date, but rather your client, and she does not—
[He slips a hand into the ruffles of his dress, removing his pipe and a lighter in an almost comedic fashion. This dress holds many secrets, apparently.]
—care enough about appearances to avoid smoking entirely.
[Obviously this is just an excuse to smoke; Juzo can enjoy the very odd contrast of a pristine Victorian lady puffing out the occasional billow of smoke.]
[ The pipe is ultimately what lets the sheer ridiculousness of the situation settle in. Juzo is quiet for a moment, wondering just how the hell he got here, with this man of all people.
... And then he has the small realization that he's glad it's this man of all people. ]
Heh.
How about we drop the act altogether? Sorry you got all dressed up for nothin'.
[He grins, his words a little clumsy because he’s still lighting his pipe. But then once it’s puffing away properly, the lighter once again disappears into the folds of his dress.]
I shall tell you another secret, and one less embarrassing for you to hear. I quite enjoy dressing up as the opposite sex — I become nigh unrecognizable, and there is no better way to escape the sometimes unwanted attention back in London. I can take stroll down the street without being assailed!
So no apologies needed. I had fun, even if it was brief.
The identity of my most trusted partner! My talent for playing the violin which I made sure to turn into a real-life talent. A few twists and turns within the cases themselves, added for extra flair. That sort of thing.
My partner, in actuality, hails from a different country altogether! From Japan, far across the sea.
[He pauses for a moment, one hand coming up to remove his pipe as he exhales a long puff of smoke.]
You may call his identity in the actual stories something of a… mix-up, but that is a long and sordid tale. He has since returned to Japan, but our cases have been immortalized through the written word, regardless.
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You cannot say that to a lady’s face! And while you are on a date, at that! I will pretend poor Ms Adler did not hear this incivility from you!
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[HOOKS THEIR ARMS TOGETHER AGAIN]
This is for your own good, so steel yourself! Irene will be returning in a few seconds’ time, and she will be inclined to lean her lovely head against your shoulder as your beachside trek continues onward. I may as well warn you about it now!
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Would you stop it?! This isn't helping anything!
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I admit that it utterly confounds me to guess at what you could be so afraid of. Do you think I will bite? Or try to suddenly ravage you in the sand? This is but a short, mildly flirtatious stroll.
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[ UGH. He feels so stupid for this whole thing. ]
It makes me uncomfortable. Always has. I appreciate what you're tryin' to do for me, but it's not gonna change anything.
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And if it were Herlock Sholmes asking to take your arm instead of Irene Adler, would the result be the same?
[His brain is trying to tweak and pry at the variables here. Trying to tease out a compromise.]
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I don't know.
What's this matter to you, anyway?
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He turns away, shoving his hands in his pockets. ]
I'm built for war, Herlock. Not romance, and definitely not intimacy. Whatever people think they want from me, I can't give it to 'em. And if I had somethin' like that before I became... this, it was lost along with the rest of my memories.
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[—is his only reply for a lingering moment, turning that response over in his head. But then he shuffles purposefully into Juzo’s periphery, not allowing him to turn away completely.]
What you were built for should not override what you want, my friend. Now, I hardly have the right to say whether or not you should desire romantic pursuits in the first place, but it is a shame to hear you restrict yourself in such a way. You have a kind, caring heart and an indomitable spirit. You have as much to offer a partner as anyone else I know, at least where it counts the most.
What a disservice to think otherwise.
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I've made peace with a lot of things about myself, but that's the one thing I can't seem to reconcile.
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Maybe someday you will be able to.
[And yet it is not his place to force him into one decision or another. This “date” was meant for acclimation, not for undoing a more deeply held insecurity that Sholmes could not account for.]
…ah, well. With this new data, I think we should re-contextualize this outing. Irene Adler is not your date, but rather your client, and she does not—
[He slips a hand into the ruffles of his dress, removing his pipe and a lighter in an almost comedic fashion. This dress holds many secrets, apparently.]
—care enough about appearances to avoid smoking entirely.
[Obviously this is just an excuse to smoke; Juzo can enjoy the very odd contrast of a pristine Victorian lady puffing out the occasional billow of smoke.]
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... And then he has the small realization that he's glad it's this man of all people. ]
Heh.
How about we drop the act altogether? Sorry you got all dressed up for nothin'.
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[He grins, his words a little clumsy because he’s still lighting his pipe. But then once it’s puffing away properly, the lighter once again disappears into the folds of his dress.]
I shall tell you another secret, and one less embarrassing for you to hear. I quite enjoy dressing up as the opposite sex — I become nigh unrecognizable, and there is no better way to escape the sometimes unwanted attention back in London. I can take stroll down the street without being assailed!
So no apologies needed. I had fun, even if it was brief.
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[ He takes a brief second to snub out the butt of his current cigarette and fish out a new one, lighting it with a small flame from his mouth.
That done, he just sort of... keeps strolling. ]
You really got that many admirers back home?
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Of course. I am world-famous, after all.
[There is a lot that one can chalk up to Sholmes’ ego. But this is not an actual exaggeration.]
Published stories of my investigative exploits have circled the globe.
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[ He chuckles, breathing out a plume of smoke. ]
Those stories any good?
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Yes! Iris wrote them.
[So of course they’re good.]
…Admittedly, she does take a few artistic liberties with a few of the tales, but they are based in truth.
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Just what kinda "artistic liberties" are we talkin' about?
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The identity of my most trusted partner! My talent for playing the violin which I made sure to turn into a real-life talent. A few twists and turns within the cases themselves, added for extra flair. That sort of thing.
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[ EXTRA CUTE. ]
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[ Amused. ]
What about your partner, then?
big ol' gaa2 spoilers for you stalkers out there
[He pauses for a moment, one hand coming up to remove his pipe as he exhales a long puff of smoke.]
You may call his identity in the actual stories something of a… mix-up, but that is a long and sordid tale. He has since returned to Japan, but our cases have been immortalized through the written word, regardless.
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