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[Sherlock Holmes is on the roof with his magnifierkind focusing the sun's rays to set fire to Imps. And trees. He may not be being very careful, really. It all looks the same from up there and the weaponization of a magnifying glass is quite interesting.

He is a mad scientist with a death ray. He really can't help but laugh at that.]

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[Sherlock smirks as he watches it work.]

You're not the only one with abilities, though mine are very much along the lines they've always been. Now it's practically intuitive with how clearly I can observe and understand things.

So your cleverness has become a power instead of a trained skill?

[John ran his fingers over the wound once again, hot and surrounded by a soft pale glow, tracing across Sherlock's palm and leaving in their wake undamaged skin. When John lifts his hands to look, he lets out a ragged breath of shock.]

What do you know, it worked...

Edited 2012-05-22 14:44 (UTC)

As I knew it would. Have a bit more faith in me, John.

[He smiles and takes his hand back.]

It's a little unfair but I like not being too much altered. The weapon is fine by itself. Let me see yours in action.

[John lets the other pull away, then reaches both hands back to take the guns from their holsters, holding them out as if to display them for the other man. They're a pair of the same gun he carries with him normally, sleek and black.]

Nothing special. They seem fairly standard as far as guns go.

I want to see them in action. I kinow what guns look like.

[He gestures towards the edge of the roof.]

Alright, alright.

[John takes a breath through his nose, eyes glancing over Sherlock's features, before he turned on his heel and faced the edge of the roof, lifting either gun and targeting a pair of trees in the distance. When he finally pulls the trigger, the bullets seem to vanish, until a split second later they crop off a branch on either of the two trees, perfectly on either side.]

[Sherlock whistles, smiling with approval.]

I like those. Let's keep those.

Says the bloke who can set things on fire at will.

[John tucks the guns away, but he can't help but grin a bit too. It's contagious when Sherlock does it.]

Daylight weaponry maximized at noon.

[He waves his magnifying glass around dismissively.]

Trade off. Inexhaustible force of massive destructive power requires debilitating limitations or I'd simply rule over everything.

Can't have that, now can we?

You'd get bored with ruling everything in a couple of hours.

Perhaps.

What is the point of all this do you think?

This place? No idea...

I mean, the powers... suit us, to a degree. Though yours are far more powerful, so there's an indication of hierarchy at least between people who have their... pajama outfits and people like me who don't.

[John gnaws on his lower lip thoughtfully, looking out over the checkerboard landscape.]

[Sherlock nods. He enjoys listening to John's perspective. His ability to make broad deductions is fairly good. He has good instincts. It's the more minute things he struggles with.]

What do you think of the symbols?

[This feels kind of like that time with the shoes, when Sherlock encouraged John's deductions despite John's inaccuracy.]

I saw a couple of people with similar symbols on my way up so... some kind of title, perhaps? A grouping? Teams, perhaps, like a sport?

Maybe symbols are similar because... there's something that the people that wear them have in common?

[Sherlock nods, pursing his lips together.]

And the colors?

Not sure, to be honest... Could they have to do with the symbols too?

Very good. Much better than last time.

...You already know what's going-- Right, of course.

Why even bother asking me then?

Because if I didn't ask you, you'd think I didn't care. I care very much that you continue to try and to improve. This is me validating your efforts in a way which cannot be interpreted as false praise as you seem to find it more belittling than anything else. It reinforces the desire to improve either way and one day you will be precisely right, earn exact praise, and feel at long last accomplished. Don't deny yourself that moment by asking me to stop.

[He looks around with his magnifying glass.]

The colors and symbols do indeed correspond. As do the designs of the pajama suits. I'm a Seer and therefore I wear the clothes of the seer in the color of Mind. Which appears to be green. Those who know their true worth have been more or less promoted in abilities to the position of godtier.

Oh, and I am cheating a bit with all this. Obviously.

[He stares at Sherlock in surprise; not only was he doing this for John's benefit, but he was outwardly admitting it. Normally, these moments, the ones they discussed not too long ago whilst tumbling about on the floor of Sherlock's room, were something that John recognized and cherished privately, unknowing if the other man even realized he was going about something for his partner. John is taken aback by that, as well as his refusal to stop just so that the doctor would have a moment of accomplishment in deduction sometime in the future, that he'd earn Sherlock's praise. His throat feels tight with emotion at that.]

Sherlock...

[John opened and closed his mouth, floundering for a response as Sherlock carried on, deducing smoothly on the meanings behind the symbols and colors. Shaking himself, John finally spoke.]

...A 'Seer of the Mind'...

[His mouth quirks fondly.]

Yeah, that suits you perfectly. Godtier, too. Of course.

[Then his expression wavered.]

So... I'm not on the same level as you because I don't see my 'true worth'...

[He shifted, rolling his shoulders tensely.]

I see...

Trust me, we'll be working on that last bit. I'm a little disapointed in you, John. I didn't think you were less than confident in your own worth.

[John's face twitches in a small wince, darting his gaze away from the other man. Disappointing Sherlock is almost more painful then admitting his limited self worth.]

Don't bother. It's only significant for this event, right? Nothing more then a few days of walking while everyone else floats about. I can deal with that.

Edited 2012-05-25 19:06 (UTC)

It only makes a difference for this event. It still matters. Especially as I'm the cause. Again: cheating. Appologies.

[Sherlock tosses his magnifying glass, playing with it.]

So, what would you like me to burn?

[John's shoulders draw up defensively.]

Burn? No, wait, Sherlock, in a minute--you're the... Your new mind powers are telling you you're the cause?

[He shifts his weight. He feels like he should protest naming the other man as the cause so bluntly, but he knows... he knows that the downward spiral he'd fallen into after Sherlock died isn't that easy to shake off. But, as he found out, Sherlock had done it /for/ John, and he shouldn't put himself in charge of fixing this result, it wasn't fair...]

...It's not your fault.

I never said it was. I said I was the cause. You're at fault. Well... maybe Moriarty. It depends on how much is internal to begin with and how much was internalized as a direct result.

[He spies another Imp and aims hsi magnifying glass at it. Vroosh~]

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