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[holmesice]

Make it quick.

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@309_W1C_2DZ; video; night 244

[howdull]

[He's waited until the moment of lockdown so that Mycroft can't do anything stupid, like run out into the snow and get killed himself. Not that he thinks that he would; for all his other faults, Mycroft's intelligence is generally stronger than his occasionally displayed sentiment.

Despite killing Moriarty earlier, Sherlock still looks like a twisted creation. Half of the back of his skull is missing, blood smeared everywhere, and his hands are completely metamorphosed into guns. His voice, though, is surprisingly level and mostly free of any Irish accent.]

Mycroft, you must watch the following video closely, do not look away even for a moment, is that clear?

Video

[holmesice]

[He's been in the same building long enough that cabin fever has slightly started the set in, even though he recognizes what's happening. The floor was rippling, like it was made of water. Curious, but nothing more. It's just an illusion, it's not real. He'd leave as soon as that creature outside his door left. He didn't think he could bring himself to fight it off. It had to eventually wander away, right? He had already made a couple of mad dashes to the restroom with his umbrella and it had tried to shuffle after him. Right now he locked himself in one of the rooms. Worried about Sherlock, biting back the horror and trying not to think of the twisted mangled thing as their sister.

And then he got this message. He turns on video, in return, not bothering with audio this time.]

Sherlock!?

Where are you? What are you doing!?

[He sounds worried. The sight of Sherlock brought back hope and relief, though he recoiled visibly at the state of him. His hands, his hands, how was that even possible!? And his head...there was no way he could be functioning with that massive wound. How on earth did the nanites manage to pull this off? Maybe they were right, and it was a shared hallucination. But hallucinations didn't hurt, and even if the pain was somehow an illusion as well, he'd thrown rocks at John. They'd reacted to his larger form as expected.]

@mewatson, day 246, voice

[agravating]

[You were supposed to keep them safe. You promised.

Instead:] Mr. Holmes...I've just seen the obituary.

Are you somewhere safe?

voice

[holmesice]

[He promised John he'd look after Mary too, didn't he?]

Yes. I had to leave the previous building I was in.

[Mycroft sounds, for lack of a better word, broken. He's doing a tremendous job trying to keep his voice plain.

Cold.

He's failing.]

voice

[agravating]

I killed Doctor Strange. [She pauses, hesitates. Continues.] Left him for dead. He was getting more and more violent.

[She clears her throat. No she is absolutely not crying, no tears at all.] Do you know what happened?

[holmesice]

[He doesn't know Dr. Strange well enough to feel much of anything other than a slightly clinical regret at the potentially permanent loss if another doctor, but the man did have his brother's face, and considering Mary's history, well. It was concerning.]

Clearly, that was necessary.

[Self-defense was nothing to regret.]

I...I don't know what happened to John. They were both transforming into anomalies, and I locked myself in one of the rooms. The next morning, they were gone.

[Coward. He should have done something.]

They were afraid they were going to attack me, so they left. Sherlock ended up at the morgue, trying to do an experiment. I have the video.

[A pause. He really was doing his best to sound calm. He ended up sounding...sad.]

He died.

@SceptredIsle; voice; after 246 obituary

[keepscalm]

[Shortly after their conversation here, and after England receives this...]

I've got a message. It seems he's back.

Audio

[holmesice]

I've just spoken with him as well. Thank you.

[It'a actually an appreciative thank you, which rare for Mycroft to be truly genuine about.

Though the subject of the conversation was a little worrying.]

@Kid, text, afternoon 251

[equal_shots]

mr holmes
i read your conversation with winter
it would not have been polite to interrupt
but i do not believe i am in my body
i am not human and do not have a human blood type
here Dr. Watson found my blood type to be listed as type o, adjusted
not what it is at home
the fact it was altered is the only reason a transfusion was possible

@theiceman, permavoice

[holmesice]

[He immediately pays attention.]

You should have jumped in, she's a computer, you needn't worry about being polite to an object, even one that can speak.

What differences are there between your original self, and who you are now, besides the blood type?

@hotstud_xxx; text; Morning 251 just after Winter's message disappears

[rubikscomplex]

i need a control
and i'm assuming baby bro still has the memory problems
so you get to be the contact for now

whatever just happened with winter
that's not the end of it
that's never the end of it

i need you to contact me with details of how any effects affect you and and the mop-top from this point on
i'm trying to work out if this freaking eye that got carved into my chest is affecting how i interact with this place
beckett got himself carved up already
and thomas and the joker are already insane

@theiceman, text;

[holmesice]

[Mycroft would have gone to voice, but he was assuming the network was still down. And this message wasn't ominous at all. Oh no. He was still reeling (and ill) after what he'd learned what may have happened to his little sister...or at least a version of her, but still.]

Wonderful.

[Unfortunately, it was also a very good idea.]

Fine. Are you expecting some sort of disaster? Did you see that image flash as well before she and her posts disappeared?

@prettypinkflowers; text; Day 256

[lacecase]

[There's no particular reason for Ginger to be reaching out to Mycroft. And...she really doesn't want him to feel insulted by this, since he kind of seems like the type to be! So, a private message it is. It'll probably surprise him to see the simple message appear in his inbox, with an attachment to a file called emojis.txt.]

these should help until you feel better!!!

Audio, Day 256

[holmesice]

Joke!? Make fun!?

[Mycroft sounds rather insulted that someone, much less someone with the handle 'pretty pink flowers' thinks he needs to use silly internet smiley faces to get his point across! Harrumph!

...strictly speaking, however, it actually is a pretty good idea, and he's miffed he may actually have to resort to it.]

@Kid, video, Lockdown 258

[equal_shots]

[The video feed shows Kid in what appears to be the morgue of the funeral parlor. He's tied himself around the waist to the body cabinets. His single eye is blindfolded, his ears are covered in earmuffs, and there is what appears to be a zip-tie around his wrists. Altogether, he looks very stuck where he is.

Still, he seems fairly calm. Calm, or perhaps resigned.]

Mr. Holmes. It occurred to me that perhaps you would also want to have this video. Dr. House suggested a hypothesis that without a preconceived notion of what kills in the morgue, we will be able to see its true form.

Please save this data.

Audio, Day 259

[holmesice]

[In his haste answering messages from House and Sherlock and trying to get out of the morgue he was in, it's a little while before Mycroft sees this. He's mad at House--again--for inspiring Kid--Mycroft is cold-hearted, yes, but he's not a monster and this is absolutely appalling.

He immediately tries to call Kid back,]

Hello? Are you there? Have you revived yet?

@hotstud_xxx; text; Night 259

[rubikscomplex]

your video cuts out
what happened?

audio; Night 259

[holmesice]

What happened!?

[He can talk again!]

I bloody well died, that's what happened! That monster reached under the door and dragged me through it, I can only assume I was killed on impact or eaten by the same thing that got you, because the next thing I knew I woke up in a morgue.

@309_W1C_2DZ; audio; afternoon 259

[howdull]

[This has to be audio because he can't see to type, so he's unable to disguise the worry in his voice even with how short the message is.]

Alert me immediately upon your return.

audio; afternoon 259

[holmesice]

[It's not long after this message is sent that Mycroft answers. He sounds incredibly relieved.]

Sherlock, are you all right? Where are you?

@309_W1C_2DZ; audio; evening 259

[howdull]

[After he's spoken to John, Mycroft will get a very short message, in a voice cracked with tension.]

My sister, Mycroft. Tell me about Eurus.

audio; evening 259

[holmesice]

[Blast! Mycroft's voice is far more resigned this time.]

First of all, what do you remember of her?

@mlaurin, voice; day 265

[standing_waters]

*This guy's easy enough to find, since the first thing Manny remembers about their interaction was mentions of Sherlock. He needs to find out if that's just a name or if its really the guy from the stories. But that's a question for a later time..*

You were right. I'm sorry.

Permatext; day 265

[holmesice]

[Mycroft has been sleeping fitfully, but he answers when he wakes up to find something to drink.]

Are you? How do I know you're still not brainwashed?

@SceptredIsle; text; day 267

[keepscalm]

[Karkat isn't the only one England owes an apology to, unfortunately.]

Good afternoon, or whatever time it may be when you read this message. As I realise that my correspondence may be unwelcome, I'll try to keep this brief.

I'm sorry for my behaviour towards you and the others when we were all trapped. Obviously I was not in control of my actions, but that has no bearing on the suffering that we caused in the end.

I did what I could to ensure our escape. However, you were right to be disappointed in me. Truthfully, I am disappointed in myself, as well. But this town makes fools of us all eventually, I suppose.

Please let me know if there is anything I can do for you, if you deign to respond at all.

@theiceman, Day 271, audio

[holmesice]

[It takes awhile before Mycroft can stomach answering him, quite literally he fell ill to his stomach when he did try. But he was feeling more resilient that morning and was able to finally manage to put himself together enough to answer.]

For what it's worth, I understand. You were not yourself, it was not of your will. It is regrettable it happened.

However you and everyone else involved on the Convert's side are now, unfortunately, the cause of some physical and psychological distress, even if it wasn't your fault, you must understand that even talking to you is taking considerable effort.

@309_W1C_2DZ; audio; very late night 284; cw: drug use

[howdull]

[He's still furious at Mycroft for going off alone, but they have an unspoken agreement about some things and so there is a message that needs to be sent.]

I have lost my scarf.

Perma-audio

[holmesice]

[Mycroft's in the pharmacy that night, nestled on his yoga mat and with his pillows and blanket. It was quiet and he was just about to fall asleep when he receives the message. Immediately he sits up, sleep forgotten.]

Sherlock, where are you? Is John there?

@hotstud_xxx; text; Morning 297

[rubikscomplex]

[So, he's just woken up with pain burning all over from last night's exciting experiments with the altar... plus lingering withdrawal effects. House really isn't thrilled about all of this. It means he's in a fighting mood.]

so, ding dong
the witch ain't dead, holmeslice
you can't even manage to put out a hit without getting offed
that's almost impressive

Audio

[holmesice]

[Mycroft’s voice comes over stiffly, ice-cold and clipped.]

That was a minor setback. And it’s only a matter of time. I’m sure the Joker is quite looking forward to it.

@jwatson; text; Night 296

[jumpthegun]

Mycroft, whenever you get back, please contact me. Sherlock's looking for you, and we need to talk.

Audio, morning 297

[holmesice]

I’m on my way to the area he’s in.

@309_W1C_2DZ; audio; evening 298

[howdull]

[It's only the very next evening from when Sherlock told Mycroft to never speak to him again, when he calls. His voice is hoarse, snapped out with a desperate urgency.]

Mycroft, you need to go to John. Help him, please.

audio

[holmesice]

[...this is an interesting turn of events. Mycroft stares dully at the message. It's a little while before he answers.]

Why?

Early morning day 300, video

[agravating]

[Mary isn't angry. She's livid, and it shows in the flush on her cheeks and furrowed brows.

The accent is back. The small mannerisms Mycroft will be familiar with are back. Mary--Mary as herself--is back.]

How dare you.

Audio

[holmesice]

[No, he's definitely keeping it to audio.]

Welcome back, Mrs. Watson.

@librarian; video; Night 303

[cahooted]

[Flynn still hasn't found a way to deal with the recent memory influx – not that he's actually looking for one, thank you, because bottling it up is clearly the superior method – and he's restless at the museum waiting for Nicole to catch up with him.

He's already made a few calls reaching out to people, but there's something else he needs to address, something that plays into the state of the city and actively goes against his moral compass. After all, if he's speaking out against Will it's only fair and right to call Mycroft out, too.]

So. After recent events we can now deduce two things: I'm the better fencer and you're the reason for Graham's little agency speech.

Text

[holmesice]

[Sherlock's recently died and he is so not in the mood to deal with this.]

Shut up and go away.

{There's a space of a few minutes.]

That was simply a matter of using an umbrella where a sword would do so it doesn't count, and yes, so what?

action; afternoon 380

[howdull]

[Sherlock has seen John on the obituaries and the slight niggling worry he's had over not being in contact with him the previous night or two is coalesced into certainty. Damn it, this happens every time he goes alone to deal with a patient. He'd not be surprised if it was the patient himself who had turned on John. Again.

He strides up to Mycroft, where his brother is investigating the bunker with that sort of lacklustre energy that always seems to infect him when he has to do field work, and stands over him with his hands stuffed in his pockets.]

We're leaving. Now. Hurry up, or be left behind.

[holmesice]

What on earth for?

[He turns to focus on Sherlock. He's not seen the obituaries yet, and the words are out of his mouth the moment he realizes what's happened, without bothering to check the network.]

Ah. It's John, then. Bound for a funeral home or two, are we?

[His face softens, not for any sorrow on Watson's actual loss, but because of the effect it would have on his brother. Again.

How painful sentiment was.]

@librarian; video; Night 430

[cahooted]

[Okay.

This. He can do this.

It's not like phone calls are terrifying, anxiety ridden things to be avoided at all costs or this whole thing is awkward at all. He can do this! He is an adult?? Ish?? He's taller and he can grow a beard and, okay, yeah. Recording now.]

Mr. Holmes. Sir. Hello, hi. My name is Flynn Carsen, which I know you know, but I don't know how you know that, which is the reason for my message.

I am having some memory issues and I have used this device to familiarize myself with the events of this city and the correspondences that have been taking place. From the data I have gathered everybody here seems to... like me? I seem to be on surprisingly good...ish terms with an impossible amount of people but I happened to detect a certain animosity in our past exchanges.

So I was wondering if you were willing to answer some questions.

... Uh, and if you could call me back for that, that would be great, I don't really know how this thing works. I mean, I found the video function? Obviously, but it's just, there's no manual and it's really weird that you have to press the screen, it seems kind of unsanitary after a while, I don't even have anything to clean this thing with, it's just my fingerprints over everything and--

Right.

Um, bye.

Perma-audio

[holmesice]

[Bloody hell, what is this nonsense?

It takes Mycroft .0000213 seconds to realize that this was not the Flynn Carsen he knew, and another half a second to skim the network for an obituary.

Wonderful.]

If you're not annoying enough ordinarily, now you must inflict an entirely new level of irritation upon me.

Go away and don't contact me again.

[There, that ought to do it. At least until his death price wears off.]