thecapitol | People In Glass Houses...

People In Glass Houses...

Who | Timaeus Nadir and guests
What | Timaeus is hosting a picnic get-together/catch-up.
Where | The picnic will be taking place in the Tropical Habitat Dome.
When| We'll be using a bit of wibbly time so that people who want to attend can.
Warnings/Notes| None as of yet.

(This is an opportunity for me to make some new CR as well as catch up with ongoing relationships, but I also want to encourage tagging around between characters! Feel free to do whatever you like in the setting with whoever you like! Also I will be backtagging this so don't feel you've missed the boat if you haven't tagged in immediately <3)

Timaeus certainly knew how to organise a gathering- even if it wasn't an outrageously opulent celebration to be held on one of his own yachts. This one was to be held under the expansive dome of the Tropical Habitat- the entire location rented out for the day to Timaeus and his guests, a loosely private affair- formal invitations as such hadn't been extended, but those welcome knew they were. Naturally, all tributes and victors were included in this group.

The Dome was a beautiful piece of architecture in itself, though antiquated when compared with the technology used for the Arenas. Rather than invisible forcefields, the climate of the interior was separated from the outside by elaborately curving steel and glass. Inside, tropical plants of all types thrived- there was a still, green pond and, deeper inside, a cascading waterfall. Butterflies in hundreds of colours, sizes and shapes flitted about, tropical birds swooped between the trees, brightly coloured fish darted in the water.
Blankets and cushions had been scattered in the main clearing with hampers of food, but there was plenty of space for the guests to break away from the gathering if they so desired- the dome was full of winding paths through the greenery- some even climbing around the trunks of the largest trees and leading to viewing platforms above. In a temporary gazebo in the clearing, a string quartet played music that wasn't quite the classical pieces Tributes were familiar with.

Timaeus himself seemed in a brighter mood than he had been for months, more than happy to make conversation with anyone who approached him- though he was certainly keeping an eye open for particular individuals. Some that he'd met, some that he'd lost and had returned to him, and others still that he had yet to meet.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Some of them," Sherlock mused as he stood at the edge, looking down. He wasn't one for views - after all, he would give anything to be back in London where he had memorized every street, every crevice, every crack in the pavement.

But London was so far away now that he wondered just how much his memory had changed the city. (It was a sobering thought.)

"I get weary of introductions, after so long. We'll see if they last, I suppose."

"Oh, goodness, me too," he laughed. "Endless introductions, not really learning anything about anyone- it's why I prefer to do them all at once at functions like these. Get the meaningless out of the way, you know. Though, of course, there are those who make it abundantly clear from the beginning that they're not worth my time, and that's really rather good to learn sooner rather than later."

A smirk flickered at the corner of his lips, and this time it was honest.

"And have any been rendered unfit by your judgment, so far?" He asked, raising an eyebrow as he glanced over at him. "Or indeed, worthy? I would take special note of them."

"I don't think I'll waste my time being lectured by a grubby little messiah complex in a loincloth again," he mused as if to himself, throwing Sherlock a sly, playful smile over his shoulder before straightening up and turning to face him, dark eyes focusing on Sherlock's cool grey. "But there are some very interesting characters walking about down there, mm? A certain doctor wearing my face, for example- I don't suppose you've had a chance to talk to him?"

Sherlock chuckled lowly, knowing exactly who the man meant, but let him get to the point.

He could have known that Timaeus would be curious.

"Julian Bashir? No, not yet. Though of course I noticed, it would be impossible not to." He raised an eyebrow. "Why, did you want my measure of the man?"

"I would value your opinion," he said easily enough- and it was far from empty flattery. Timaeus certainly had come to respect Sherlock's opinions and placed high importance on his perspective, and not simply because Sherlock enjoyed being given that respect. "Particularly given the, ah, message that his presence might be giving. If you catch my meaning."

"Yes, of course," Sherlock said, nodding gravely. In fact he did understand, completely, but he doubted that Timaeus was up to any activity rebellious enough to warrant it.

Some things only came down to a cruel sense of humour.

"I would be happy to speak to him and give you my impressions."

"I'd be much obliged," he said with a warm smile, inclining his head- it was a request, rather than a demand, if only because it was more gratifying to have Sherlock choose to help him without any coercion.

"Now, tell me. How is it going with the good Doctor? I'm only an observer, obviously, but he seemed quite... inordinately upset, for a merely platonic friend."

"We've never been mere platonic friends," Sherlock said after a moment, carefully not looking Timaeus in the eye and frowning at his feet instead.

"But if you think that changed anything... No. No, I doubt very much it has changed his feelings at all."

"Well, that really is a shame," he mused thoughtfully, allowing himself a pause as he observed a pair of brightly coloured birds squabbling in the branches of a nearby tree.

"How about, ah, Joan, isn't it? I haven't had the pleasure of making her acquaintance just yet, but they seem to share certain common elements...?"

"Joan is not John." He said it quite firmly and quite suddenly, his brows furrowing as he looked at the ground.

He had obviously thought deeply about the subject.

"They share qualities, of course; and it is fairly obvious, I should think, that I count her as a friend - but she is not John."

He couldn't say, of course, that he worried if he was too particular about her that they would start bringing in Watsons from every universe they could think of, just to have more ways to reach his usually impenetrable heart. More ways to destroy him.

"No, she's not, you're right," he agreed, nodding. "I wouldn't accept a substitute if I were you either- the heart wants what the heart wants. Though- I did wonder, if I could be of any help... I had a few ideas, if you wanted them. Not that I want to interfere too much, you understand..."

Sherlock faked a little bit of a flustered look and frowned at the floor.

"I-- of course, I welcome any advice, but somehow I doubt we will hit upon anything that would be effective..."

Timaeus smiled, warm and understanding, his expression a declaration of solidarity and reassurance. He would never judge Sherlock weak for finding himself at a loss when it came to the object of his desire- every man had his blind spot, even the hyper-observant Sherlock Holmes.

"Sherlock, my friend. Believe me, I'm somewhat of an expert in these matters, and your Dr. Watson-- he's absolutely transparent to anyone with eyes. He feels very deeply for you and you simply must be patient. He'll come around, once the idea stops being so- mm. Terrifying. Yes, terrifying, that's the word. You just have to reassure him."

"I'm terrifying," Sherlock repeated, not quite a question so much as a resignation. He glared down at the floor.

"Forgive me if I cannot quite bring myself to force upon him something that terrifies him. Deep feelings aren't necessarily romantic."

"No, no, my friend, it's not you, you see? It's the idea. Your friendship means a great deal to him, and attempting a romance risks the friendship. It's because he cares so deeply that he's unwilling to try, not because he doesn't care enough," Timaeus explained fondly. "We simply have to demonstrate to him the benefits of a romantic relationship, and make sure he understands that the aspects of your friendship that he worries about losing are completely inviolate- that they won't change."

Sherlock looked uncomfortable and unconvinced, frowning as he watched Timaeus.

"And how, exactly, do you propose I do that? Write him a treatise on how I view a perspective partnership working? I can hardly guarantee that things would go unchanged..."

"Well, it might be a start," Timaeus mused thoughtfully. "If only so you have a better idea of what to say if he asks you about it. What do you imagine would change, hm? Physically, you would be more intimate, perhaps, but it wouldn't change the feelings you already have for him, would it?"

It was, actually, a very good question. What would change if John called his bluff? What would be expected of him?

"I-- I don't know." He said, awkwardly, and then told Timaeus a truth that likely no one else knew, not for certain, and he could always later deny to his grave anyway. "I've never... exactly... That is, I've never actually had a... working relationship."

Timaeus laid a friendly hand on Sherlock's arm, giving it a companionable squeeze.

"I think, Sherlock, that John is a very lucky man," he told him with a smile. "Every relationship is different, so I wouldn't worry too much about your inexperience. Just concentrate on what you can offer him."

Sherlock took a breath and offered Timaeus an apparently brave smile. He was getting too good at acting, these days.

"There's little I can really offer him." He held up a hand before Timaeus could interrupt. "No- No, I know myself well enough. And I know him well enough. I can't offer him everything that he looks for in a partner."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

People In Glass Houses...

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject