Event: Consolidation Theory, Part Six

[snowblindmods]

Characters: the marked, the unmarked, and their rescuers
Location: ???
Date: Morning 356
Summary: Time to get out of here.
Warnings: gore, psychological horror, warn for specifics in the subject lines

Part Six OOC Post

Comments

[howdull]

Impossible.

[He considers options for a moment, but there's obviously none that couldn't be rebutted with sound logic.]

If I were a hallucination of myself, I'd be an extension of your mind and therefore know all that you know about me already.

[holmesice]

[That's actually not so bad. There's the barest hint of a smile.]

Tell me something I don't know, then.

[howdull]

What would be the point, an apparition could produce something false and claim it as something true that you don't know.

[He frowns and holds out a hand.]

Come on.

[holmesice]

[That gets an eye roll. But yeah, he's going to have to give you that one, little brother.]

...what else could possibly go wrong? Besides me dying? Again?

[He takes his hand, fully expecting the chains and collar to choke him as soon as he moves out of range.]

[howdull]

[At least Mycroft is willing to try, a tiny spark of defiance still inside. Good. He doesn't know what he'll do if Mycroft breaks enough to lose even that, he's no therapist and his relationship with his brother is muddy at best.

He grips the hand offered to him and yanks as hard as he's capable of, attempting to pull Mycroft right through the wall.]

[holmesice]

[When Sherlock yanks him through the wall, Mycroft winces, his breath hitching in his throat. He very well fully expected to be--well, something, even though on one level he knew if Sherlock was able to get through the wall, he ought to as well, but it still felt like he was about to get his face smashed in--

--and then, nothing. It wasn't there. The illusion had fallen and he rubs his face, glancing back and forth quickly, as if expecting it to re-form any second.]

Well. [Is there any chance at recovering his dignity? Likely not.]

It seems you were correct, after all.

[howdull]

Naturally.

[He'll drop Mycroft's hand now that there's no need to be holding it, otherwise it might start looking like some odd gesture of affection. He smiles, utterly smug in the knowledge of being right.]

Aren't I usually?

[holmesice]

[And we most certainly can't have that, can we? But Mycroft glares at the smugness, even though he's trying to wrestle with the fact that Sherlock had broken through this illusion, and he had not been able to under his own power.]

No, not usually.

[A pause.]

...how did you break the illusion, originally?

[howdull]

[He's far too smug about being right this time to let Mycroft burst his bubble, so his grin doesn't alter a whit.]

I actually have deductive ability, Mycroft, it wasn't hard to see the clues that this was all fake.

[Totally a lie, John explained it and got him out.]

[holmesice]

[Are your accomplishments here so meager that you must take exceptional pride in the smallest of wins, Sherlock?

Mycroft's terribly jealous.]

Someone helped you.

[Had to be.]

[howdull]

Don't be ridiculous.

[He scoffs, as if he'd need help! Except that John had been the one right there to explain how there weren't any walls any more.]

I'm a detective, Mycroft, I don't need help to deduce the obvious.

[holmesice]

[You so had help, brother dear.]

Identify your first clue that led you to this conclusion.

[howdull]

Perhaps later.

[To give him time to think of it.]

Don't you think that leaving would be a more prudent use of our time?

[holmesice]

[...there's the slightest of smirks. Biding time is never a good sign.]

Of course. Why not? This place has rather worn out its welcome. [It's a bit sarcastic in the way he says it, even though he really does want to get out. If it's that difficult to remember your first clue anyway...]

[howdull]

[He's not going to acknowledge that sarcasm, and instead turns to walk away in silence. Let Mycroft follow him to the exit if he will, he's done with this for now.]