paradisa | 036 || dictated;

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036 || dictated;

Lewis and Clark!

[It's practically bellowed into the journal, and edged with laughter. He has an announcement to make. The journal scrapes against dirt and metal, as if it's on the ground with Sherlock bent over it.]

Good morning. Hello. Are you listening? [More scraping as he lifts the journal and, presumably, himself.] Try to. As some of you may know, I loathe repeating myself.

You're late. Your time isn't running out, it has run out. There's a different sort of timer now. I suggest you pick your brains out from the rubbish and get a move on before you run that one dry, as well.

[A split-second pause, and suddenly his voice loses all traces of good humor. It's replaced by anger and, on some level, fear.]

No. I refuse-- I refuse to allow this. Everything I've done, all that I've worked for, you think you've dismantled it, but you haven't even begun. I'm better, I've won.

Stop it, stop. You think I can't tell the difference between reality and, and this? STOP!

[Silence, except for his heavy breathing.]

Lewis and Clark! [His mind is running a thousand miles per second, and his mouth is struggling to keep up. It's making him jumbled, trying to direct the right statements to the right people (real or otherwise.)] Do I need to say it again? Perhaps you need it. Just the once: hurry up.

If you don't, there's only one course left. And it is a long way down, I can promise you that.

[He trails off. There's a moment of quiet, followed by a burst of breathless laughter.]

God. I would kill every single one of you for a cigarette.

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[Great. The Super-Genius is cracking around the edges. Only one course of action.] HEY. HOLMES. Hold it together! Don't be weak!

[Because that's all they needed over there...]

[He laughs. He laughs and laughs and laughs.]

Weak! Me. You're the ones who can't open a door and it's my weakness that's the problem.

[His voice abruptly hardens.]

You think I enjoy leaving myself in the hands of you incompetents? Trade places with me and I would have had it open in a moment, in a touch! You could have the Event Horizon and then we'd really see who the weak one is.

I say anyone who listens to voices that aren't there is weak. I say anyone who can't help us rescue him shouldn't be throwing stones. If you were worth that big brain of yours, you'd tell us how to open the door.

[Come on Holmes, take the bait ...]

Shut up.

[It's practically a snarl. He sure is going for the bait, in one way or another.]

What do you expect? All the information is on your side, the controls, the name of the godforsaken ship. If you want my help, give me data! I cannot make bricks without clay.

[Gotcha. Just like a rabbit in a trap.]

This is the Lewis and Clark. And if you want information on the controls, I've got manuals right here. But that's only if you're going to stay with me, Holmes. There's no use to someone who can't control his own mind.

Edited 2013-05-08 02:03 (UTC)

I'm not a dog begging to be lead around by the nose.

[But, the work is what grounds him, what helps him keep his thoughts in a line instead of clumping together like hair in a drain.

Work would help him focus. Work would quiet the noise. Maybe work would--]

I told you before, you don't have time left to waste. Either give it to me, hurry it up, or leave us here to die. I don't have all day.

[There is a few moments of silence -- just long enough for a video message - and Katniss is back.] Well, here's a mound of clay, just for you. There are explosives hidden on your side of the ship. They should be enough to blow the door. But we don't know where they are. You have to find them - and when you do - we can get you out.

[Then she tells him exactly what the message said - every gory detail - so he would have all the information he would need.]

[He listens to every word, not interrupting once, and stays quiet for a few long moments even after she's finished.

There's footsteps as he wanders away from the journal and back again -- pacing. He mutters to himself, too faint to make out, until he brings himself back within speaking distance again.]

Fine. Fine. [He somehow manages to sound more unsteady and more grounded at the same time.] Leaving it to you was clearly helping no one. I'll take care of it myself.

[Katniss smiled, despite herself, before she spoke clearly into the journal.]

Yeah, well, I'm just going to see to my end of things because we really don't want to have to wait on you to get yourself in order. I hope you can keep yourself from talking to your invisible friends, and actually focus on the task at hand.

[Come on, girl, you were doing so well. His hackles rise, defensive and unstable.

There is nothing wrong with him. There is nothing wrong with him.

(He can still hear Moriarty laughing.)]

A game, is it? To be played with friends, courtesy of the castle? I told you, told everyone, I hate repeating myself. I won't say it again. If you feel content in ignorance, go ahead! Bask in it. I don't have any need of it.

[Aaaah, the rabbit was wiggling out of the trap. She bit down on her lip, reminding herself of the first rule of hunting. Don't count on your meat until it is well and truly skinned.

So she moved forward.]

You want to prove me ignorant? Find the explosives.

Done! Consider it finished! Boffin Sherlock Holmes.

I'll hardly disappoint, but will there be anything left? Question of the day, ladies and gentlemen.

There'd better be. Or I won't believe you did it, if you're not there to scream 'TRIUMPH' in my face, Holmes.

If not me, then what else? Luck? [More laughter.] As if we've any of that left, now.

No ... I'm expecting other things besides luck. [Memory. Nightmares. That feeling of bile that set in her throat at the thought of bloodshed.]

[And again, tumbling into seriousness.]

There's plenty others. You best be prepared.

Don't worry. I never walk into the Game without being prepared. Just find those explosives, and you'll see.

We will, won't we?

That we will.

We are doing everything in our power to get you and the others out of here. More than anything, what we need from you is that you hold yourself together until we arrive.

[If they arrive. She feels utterly helpless, but these ships are like nothing she's ever encountered before.]

[He echoes it, his voice flat.]

Hold myself together. That simple, is it?

Do you know how rockets are sent into space?

[She groans quietly]

No, I don't, nor do I have time for you to explain how or use it as some sort of analogy. I know what I ask of you is not simple, but it must be done. We do not know if you will be able to recover if you lose yourself to this madness and we need as many level heads as we can get to keep order on that ship.

[More laughter.]

Oh, of course, now you don't have the time. Just as well, though, you've at least listened to something. But not all of it. Let me make it very clear: there is no order left to keep.

You're not trying to save the ship, you're trying to save the scraps.

'Hold myself together.' Is it nice, having your head in the clouds?

[This is a waste. Another one lost to whatever unknown force is behind this.]

It is better than where your head seems to be.

That will always be true, madness or not. [His mind is clearly wandering, now, and his mouth seems fit to stumble along after it.] It's all so quiet for ordinary people. Must be. I've never known it. Wouldn't ask for it, either, sounds boring. Rubbish.

Try being me for a day and we'll see how well you hold together.

And just what sets you apart from others that you have more difficulty?

[lilting:]

Do you have time for an analogy now?

[There's an audible huff]

Enlighten me.

Hmmmmm. The rocket? Might as well. Not what I intended it for, but it'll do. I don't care much about space, but from what I'm told people seem to think it spectacular. It fits.

It doesn't matter how the rocket goes off, only that it does. It's a marvel of human engineering. It goes above and beyond any transport we've created in the past; it transcends anything produced by any creature on Earth. [A pause, and his voice loses some of its dramatic tension.] Can't say I agree on that bit. Ordinary people do, though. Ordinary people don't look at bees as closely as I do.

[Back on track.]

But. One miscalculation, one contaminant -- it doesn't take a genius, does it?

[There's a CRASH in the background. It sounds like he tipped something over, or swept it to the floor.]

Boom.

Do you understand? I see everything. I see everything. I trust the data given to me by my senses because that is how I do my work. My mind is finely tuned to do what it does, because that is the only way I exist. I am the rocket, a marvel tearing itself to pieces in the atmosphere because of a single grain of sand.

[He gets more and more agitated the longer he goes on.]

There is nothing wrong with me. Do you understand?

[She's trying to follow, but it's hard to follow when you aren't accustomed to someone who speaks like, well, this fellow. Or you aren't familiar with rockets.]

I understand that you think rather highly of yourself.

[Laughter.]

With very good reason.

Hold on a bit longer. We'll be there as soon as we get it all figured out. Shouldn't take long at all.

[ Not exactly true as far as he knows, but he's not gonna say they still have no clue what the heck to do.

He's at least trying to sound reassuring here. ]

Say it three times and perhaps it will come true!

[That's how the superstition works, isn't it? He had a case like that once. Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary.]

Or, perhaps you're just running out of placations. I've heard them all before. Shall I suggest some new ones?

'It's all in your head!'

'Believe in yourself!'

'We've got the key in hand!'

Well the first two won't do a damn bit of good all things considered, but there are people here who seem to know something about this whole ship thing, so I can't imagine the last one's far from true at this point. And once it's in hand we'll have the doors opened and you lot out of there right away.

Can't be far from true is a breath away from is far from true and isn't true at all. A little more time, you say, a little more time!

Weren't you listening? I asked you to listen. You had a little more time at the start, the first time you plied us with that. You've run out.

[ Well he can't blame the guy for being hysterical here... ]

We haven't yet though! It's not like we have any to spare, but it's not out completely. We will get you all out.

[Laughter. He just laughs. Some kind of hysterical, certainly.]

Yes, and when you're lowering the prone forms of the insane down into the Lewis and Clark's hold, you'll think, "Mission success! We were there just in time! Not a death among them!"

Ah, but wait. You're late on that, too.

[ He's getting quiet for a second. It's a frustrating situation to be in for sure, but he's still in relative safety where he's sitting. He's not the one in danger of dying here. ]

Then we'll work that much faster to make sure there aren't any more.

But will you succeed? That's what matters, we hardly care what you try.

Of course we will! You can count on that.

[He sounds the complete opposite of convinced.]

I don't think I will. But best of luck.

[ Well... he can't blame the guy for that either.

He sounds a bit more genuine with his reply though. ]

We will, and same to you.

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