entranceway | [Video] Entry 001

[The camera flickers on, revealing John sitting up from being sprawled on the ground, holding his head. He groans, hissing to himself. From the grass around him, it looks like he's on the front lawn of the mansion. When he finally peeks through his fingers, the doctor notices the camera--likely his phone. He reaches for it, looking slightly perplexed when he realizes it's recording video--technology was never really his strong suit. He glances around, and when it's obvious he sees nothing familiar, he holds up the camera properly, looking into it with confusion, but resolve.]

This is John Watson, speaking. I'm currently in an unknown area and any sort of information would be... wonderful, thank you.

[The hinting of his military background dissolves slightly at the end of his request, and he gnaws at his lower lip as he observes his surroundings once more. Running a hand through his cropped hair, he mutters to himself;]

Well, one thing's for sure, this certainly isn't London...

[He then snorts in a self deprecating manner.]

Of course it isn't, John. Obvious deduction.

[He's speaking as if mimicking someone else chiding him, but the line of his mouth and the expression in his eyes is fond, if a bit sad, as he looks off. After a moment he remembers he's still on video. Clearing his throat, he fumbles with the phone uselessly a couple of times until the transmission finally shuts off.]

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John Watson? As in...the John Watson?

[Okay, let's just...let's just hold up a minute. To make sure that this isn't some kind of ridiculous joke. This is John Watson. Not the one with the funny moustache from the films she's watched, not the one from the books (not quite, anyway), but it appears to be the one that the much more modern Holmes would be familiar with.

His jacket isn't all that Late Victorian, anyways.]

Are you all right, have you- I take it you've just arrived here?

[...Well, he's not really used to hearing his name said with a "the" so prominently before it. John is a tad flustered he's been recognized, especially by a lovely woman. It was possible she read his blog, but normally Sherlock was mentioned within a few seconds of the doctor being recognized; he was the reason John's blog was so popular, after all.]

Arrived not long ago, yes--I'm sorry, I don't think we've met before, how... do you know me?

[Normally he'd be far less blunt and fumbling around a lady, but he's a bit overwhelmed for a few reasons at the moment.]

[Living in Wonderland for so long has done something truly awful to her manners, clearly.]

Oh! Oh, I'm so sorry, do forgive me. My name is Evelyn Carnahan, I've read your-

[Uh.]

-stories.

[She smiles encouragingly. New arrivals can always use the extra boost to feel more reassured of their surroundings.]

[His ears heat up in a flush, and John is torn between being embarrassed and proud. It was one thing to see the hit counter go up on a computer screen, it was another to meet someone in person who had read his writings. The doctor smiles sheepishly.]

It's no problem at all! Forgive me for being so forward. Nice to meet you, Evelyn. I hadn't gathered from what Sherlock told me that people here could read my blogs...

A pleasure to meet you as well, John.

[Oho, well, blogs. About those.]

Well, it's- I suppose I haven't really read your blog per se.

[Her smile turns apologetic.]

I'm- I suppose the best way to describe the mechanics of this place would be to tell you that not everyone is from the exact same era, although Sherlock might have already filled you in on this.

[But, then again, this is Sherlock Holmes, the Master of Not-Telling-People-Things.]

I'm not...precisely from your time period, doctor.

[Oh... Oh. John highly doubted he would ever get used to this.]

So... This place not only takes people from different worlds, but different times as well...

[Sherlock is also the master of Not-Telling-People-Things-Tactfully, as evidence by how warily John asks his next question;]

...You know me from those books, then? The ones Sherlock was waving about.

[She offers another I'm-so-terribly-sorry grimace.]

I'm afraid I do. In my time, the year is 1926.

[Those books being written not by Doctor Watson, though, but by one Arthur Conan Doyle.]

I realise that all of this may come as a great shock to you, and if you'd much rather speak face-to-face, I would understand. I find these communicating units rather impersonal.

[John tries to offer her a reassuring smile.]

It's fine, just... confusing, I suppose. I haven't taken the time to read through the books myself... Not sure I'm ready to, honestly...

[Or if he'd ever be... It's a tad jarring seeing your life in parallel on the pages of an old book.]

I'd be happy to meet up. Far better that I'll get to know my fellow residents properly, right? Though... I don't really know my way around yet...

[It's quite all right, John. I'm sure Evelyn would hate to learn that she's from a 1999 film, but let's not delve so far into meta just yet. In-person introductions still need to happen, after all.]

I don't blame you.

[She laughs.]

I can come and find you, if you'd like? Having been here some months now, I suppose I'm an old hand at the place.

[He smiles when she laughs, a small quirk in the corner of his mouth.]

That'd be great. I'm in room 022 on the second floor. If I'm not there I'll probably be next door in room 021.

022?

[Surprise, surpri- Well, not really. Sherlock lives in 021, it only makes sense that John would be next door.]

I'm right down the hall from you, actually, in room ten. I'll be over shortly.

[Evelyn ends the transmission and walks the incredibly short distance to Doctor Watson's room, knocking on the door. True to her previous statement, she's wearing something a little dated, but just because the style is nearly a century behind doesn't mean the clothing is ill-fitting, thank you very much.]

John? It's Evelyn.

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