ROUX
Hand of the King
A Sheriarty RP...1v1
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The Mighty Fall
- Thread starter ROUX
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Hi Im Red
Real Life Superhero
If there was one thing to be missed, it would be the company. John had got on with his life, only visiting a few times over the weeks, he had a child to look after and the antics of murder and crime were the last thing on the doctor's mind. However in the flat of 221B it was all that Sherlock could possibly think of, sending off a text to Graham every now and then to see if anything new has popped by. Yet every time he has done so all he has received was an annoyed text back telling him that nothing has changed since he last messaged and that he would let Sherlock know if anything suspicious came up.
Yes, the man had become like a lost puppy begging for attention. There was no way he would be caught messaging his brother for company; time spent with Mycroft was like breathing in acid; no one would want to do that. He had wild thoughts of sending off a message to Jim, since the man's reappearance it was terribly hard for him to show his 'hatred' for the man whenever the name came up. However, since he has yet to revile himself in person, there have only been mere speculations on his resurrection. Sherlock knew the truth, though. Saving Moriarty from putting the bullet through his head had been one of the best decisions he's made, and the kiss was even more so.
He had to do something to occupy his time, anything to keep him from burning the flat to the ground. So he stuck with the violin, holding the bow, going over old pieces of music he has composed, and improving them to create the perfect tune. That didn't last long until he picked up his mobile and quickly tapped out a message; finally giving in to talking to Jim.
I've been thinking that it's been much too long since we've last gotten together.
SH
Yes, the man had become like a lost puppy begging for attention. There was no way he would be caught messaging his brother for company; time spent with Mycroft was like breathing in acid; no one would want to do that. He had wild thoughts of sending off a message to Jim, since the man's reappearance it was terribly hard for him to show his 'hatred' for the man whenever the name came up. However, since he has yet to revile himself in person, there have only been mere speculations on his resurrection. Sherlock knew the truth, though. Saving Moriarty from putting the bullet through his head had been one of the best decisions he's made, and the kiss was even more so.
He had to do something to occupy his time, anything to keep him from burning the flat to the ground. So he stuck with the violin, holding the bow, going over old pieces of music he has composed, and improving them to create the perfect tune. That didn't last long until he picked up his mobile and quickly tapped out a message; finally giving in to talking to Jim.
I've been thinking that it's been much too long since we've last gotten together.
SH
ROUX
Hand of the King
Jim Moriarty was an odd person. He didn't like people touching him and he cried in his sleep. He could spend hours reading complicated science books but got restless before watching half a movie. Jim looked strangely at people and muttered stuff for himself. He knew how to torture someone with a knife in 37 different ways (so far) but he loathed touching uncooked meat.
Jim Moriarty recevied a text, and threw his phone out a window.
He ignored the shought from below said window, cracking his neck as he retreated back to the still shady side of the room. He'd holed himself up here for about a month, easily ridding the place of the flat's former residents before moving in himself. it was strange for him, to exist in such a normal residence, listning to people talking and passing on the streets below, sometimes even talking about his apparent reappearance. Jim observed these things, yes, but he himself was anything but normal at the moment.
His hair was a mess, and while it wasn't as much of a mess as it'd been as "Richard Brook", it stuck up in tufts from lack of gel. His pale skin was covered in self inflicted scars and scratches, three of which were still fresh and occasionly bled scarlet on the fabric of the tan couch he was currently on. A couple pill bottles and a syringe containing whatever he didnt inject himself with the night before lay on the coffee table.
Not undersanding was a new feeling for Jim. And at the moment, there were quite a few things he didn't under stand, the biggest being Sherlock Holmes.
Jim had thought he'd figured the detective out completeley. Initially, the obsession hadn't been with Sherlock himself, but rather beating him...yet when he got close enough to observe the specimen face to face, he realized he understood nothing. And Jim Moriarty hated being in the dark. He'd expected the detective to smile when he prepared to pull the trigger up on that hospital, expected him to be glad that Moriarty was finally out of the way. Not to grab his wrist in those strong and slender fingers, pulling the gun out of range and...
The irishman stood up shakily, nearly falling over as dizziness took him over. He found himself ten minutes later, only disguised by a loose hoodie and a pair of sunglasses, knocking on the door of a certain apartment on Baker Street.
Jim Moriarty recevied a text, and threw his phone out a window.
He ignored the shought from below said window, cracking his neck as he retreated back to the still shady side of the room. He'd holed himself up here for about a month, easily ridding the place of the flat's former residents before moving in himself. it was strange for him, to exist in such a normal residence, listning to people talking and passing on the streets below, sometimes even talking about his apparent reappearance. Jim observed these things, yes, but he himself was anything but normal at the moment.
His hair was a mess, and while it wasn't as much of a mess as it'd been as "Richard Brook", it stuck up in tufts from lack of gel. His pale skin was covered in self inflicted scars and scratches, three of which were still fresh and occasionly bled scarlet on the fabric of the tan couch he was currently on. A couple pill bottles and a syringe containing whatever he didnt inject himself with the night before lay on the coffee table.
Not undersanding was a new feeling for Jim. And at the moment, there were quite a few things he didn't under stand, the biggest being Sherlock Holmes.
Jim had thought he'd figured the detective out completeley. Initially, the obsession hadn't been with Sherlock himself, but rather beating him...yet when he got close enough to observe the specimen face to face, he realized he understood nothing. And Jim Moriarty hated being in the dark. He'd expected the detective to smile when he prepared to pull the trigger up on that hospital, expected him to be glad that Moriarty was finally out of the way. Not to grab his wrist in those strong and slender fingers, pulling the gun out of range and...
The irishman stood up shakily, nearly falling over as dizziness took him over. He found himself ten minutes later, only disguised by a loose hoodie and a pair of sunglasses, knocking on the door of a certain apartment on Baker Street.
Hi Im Red
Real Life Superhero
Long waiting with no response made him believe that Moriarty was never going to get back to him. So be it. Sherlock tapped his fingers over the seat of his chair as he glanced around the room. What to do, what to do? He was sat in his normal attire, hair ruffled, dress shirt, nice trousers, gun in had aimed to the wall. He didn't need to see the yellow face, sloppily sprayed into the wall to know where it was so he could use it as a target. He was almost surprised no one has called the cops or came knocking on his door.
Mrs. Hudson, right as he excepted, showing up after he fired the fifth time a knock on the door. He sighed loudly as he pushed himself off of his chair, still holding the gun tightly in his long fingers. "Yes, Mrs. Hudson-" he started to say as he opened the door, however this was not her. No, not unless she's got plastic surgery.
At a loss for words, Sherlock cleared his throat, looking down at the Irishman that stood in front of him. "When I said it has been a while since we've seen each other it was not an invitation to come over to my home for small talk."
Mrs. Hudson, right as he excepted, showing up after he fired the fifth time a knock on the door. He sighed loudly as he pushed himself off of his chair, still holding the gun tightly in his long fingers. "Yes, Mrs. Hudson-" he started to say as he opened the door, however this was not her. No, not unless she's got plastic surgery.
At a loss for words, Sherlock cleared his throat, looking down at the Irishman that stood in front of him. "When I said it has been a while since we've seen each other it was not an invitation to come over to my home for small talk."
ROUX
Hand of the King
"Oh Sherlock...lighten up would you? After all, I did just save you from facing six pointless months overseas awaiting certain death," Jim sighed, looking up at the taller man with tired eyes. He was glad it wasn't the landlady that had opened the door, as he really wasn't in the mood to kill anyone at the moment. Sherlock somehow looked even more beautiful than the last time he'd seen the detective...with those dark curls and high cheekbones, he always wondered why the man didn't have a girlfriend. Then he remembered who he was thinking about, and the sociopathic tendencies.
"Indeed, I'm not here to discuss your drab wallpaper, or anything of the sort," he explained in the singsong voice his enemies had come to loathe. It had once been an act, but as his foes accumulated, so did his usage, and soon enough it was an unbreakable habit of his. "But you owe me something Sherlock Holmes. And I'd like to collect..."
Jim trailed off, enjoying the look of confusion he was getting.
"Indeed, I'm not here to discuss your drab wallpaper, or anything of the sort," he explained in the singsong voice his enemies had come to loathe. It had once been an act, but as his foes accumulated, so did his usage, and soon enough it was an unbreakable habit of his. "But you owe me something Sherlock Holmes. And I'd like to collect..."
Jim trailed off, enjoying the look of confusion he was getting.
Hi Im Red
Real Life Superhero
"Yet here I am not needed for anything, you never came back. Nor have you ever even stepped foot outside your flat unless to see a doctor or for right now to come here," he said brow furrowing and the frown deepening the more that he talked.
"Owe you something?" Sherlock questioned. "If I recollect, I owe you nothing," he stated. Sherlock gave him the once over, letting all the details of what he's been doing sink into his mind. Usually he was hard to read, but right now when he was not his usual self, Sherlock could see that he was on some prescribed medication and has not been taking it. Oh the tale of a crazy man.
Sherlock sighed, walking back into the flat, leaving the door open for Jim to follow in. He sat the gun down on the table and headed into the kitchen. "Tea?" He asked, he already knew the answer and was putting on a fresh pot of tea for himself and a man whim he very much admired. Never would he say the criminal meant more, not wanting to admit it to himself or the world.
"Owe you something?" Sherlock questioned. "If I recollect, I owe you nothing," he stated. Sherlock gave him the once over, letting all the details of what he's been doing sink into his mind. Usually he was hard to read, but right now when he was not his usual self, Sherlock could see that he was on some prescribed medication and has not been taking it. Oh the tale of a crazy man.
Sherlock sighed, walking back into the flat, leaving the door open for Jim to follow in. He sat the gun down on the table and headed into the kitchen. "Tea?" He asked, he already knew the answer and was putting on a fresh pot of tea for himself and a man whim he very much admired. Never would he say the criminal meant more, not wanting to admit it to himself or the world.
ROUX
Hand of the King
"I don't need a doctor," Jim shot back automatically, glaring at the other man's back as he walked off before he closed the door and followed him in.
"First of all, it's your fault I've been cooped up in the shoddy thing. Sheeeerrrrly, was it really necessary to disband my entire contact list? My clients will be furious," he drawled, taking note of his surroundings. He'd already shared his view on the wallpaper, but the rest of the flat felt surprisingly comfortable. He he'd the living room furniture before picking a lavish looking chair, trying to stifle the pain laced groan that sounded as he lowered himself into the seat. He sighed, removing his good and blinking a few times before propping his head up on a pillow.
Sherlock was either being stubborn, or he really didn't understand what Jim was getting at with his last statement. He didn't have the energy to beat around the bush with the detective, and he wanted to get his point across before one of his untimely blackouts took him over again. Plus, he wasn't exactly a welcome presence in the building...any one of Sherlock's associates, Lestrade, John, would beat him to a bloody pulp if they discovered he was alive. In fact, John just might put him back in the ground for good.
When the detective returned with the tea, he settled the man with a steely unwavering gaze as he asked his question. "Sherlock. You owe me why."
"First of all, it's your fault I've been cooped up in the shoddy thing. Sheeeerrrrly, was it really necessary to disband my entire contact list? My clients will be furious," he drawled, taking note of his surroundings. He'd already shared his view on the wallpaper, but the rest of the flat felt surprisingly comfortable. He he'd the living room furniture before picking a lavish looking chair, trying to stifle the pain laced groan that sounded as he lowered himself into the seat. He sighed, removing his good and blinking a few times before propping his head up on a pillow.
Sherlock was either being stubborn, or he really didn't understand what Jim was getting at with his last statement. He didn't have the energy to beat around the bush with the detective, and he wanted to get his point across before one of his untimely blackouts took him over again. Plus, he wasn't exactly a welcome presence in the building...any one of Sherlock's associates, Lestrade, John, would beat him to a bloody pulp if they discovered he was alive. In fact, John just might put him back in the ground for good.
When the detective returned with the tea, he settled the man with a steely unwavering gaze as he asked his question. "Sherlock. You owe me why."
Hi Im Red
Real Life Superhero
Sherlock finished making the tea, pouring the steaming liquid into two separate mugs. He listened to the man go on wishing that he would get to his point already. He came out setting one of the mugs in front of Jim. His face showed no expression as he took his mug and sat back in his chair crossing one long leg over the other. He knew exactly what he meant, and it was a subject that Sherlock never discussed lightly. Not telling anyone the truth about what happened on that roof. How he swept in and was the hero for saving Moriarty from pulling the trigger.
"I don't know what more there is to explain. I stopped you from putting a bullet in your head and I wanted a distraction from my alleged death so I kissed the closest thing to me, before I jumped; and that just happened to be," Sherlock gestured to the man sitting across from him. "I thought that was obvious, what more do you expect me to say?"
"I don't know what more there is to explain. I stopped you from putting a bullet in your head and I wanted a distraction from my alleged death so I kissed the closest thing to me, before I jumped; and that just happened to be," Sherlock gestured to the man sitting across from him. "I thought that was obvious, what more do you expect me to say?"
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ROUX
Hand of the King
"Wouldn't peg you to be one for impulse snogging, no matter what the situation," Jim scoffed. That, he didn't buy for one second. One did not simply make out with their arch enemy right after several near death moments and one tension filled argument, that much was clear.
"And I don't...understand..." He struggled over those words as if voicing each one was as horrible as the act of swallowing a razor blade.
"Why would you save me? After all, if killed hundreds of people, employed hundreds more, and nearly killed you and John Watson. Not to mention that I nearly drove you commit suicide...nearly." He realized if Sherlock had actually done it, if he'd jumped off that building...the Irishman would have followed him down, literally followed him to hell.
"Anyone else would have let me do it. And you were the most qualified...excluding John of course. He truly hates me, the poor lad..." Jim shook his head in mock sadness, knowing very well that his mentioning of John would aggravate Sherlock. He sipped his tea, peering across at the man as he awaited a response.
"And I don't...understand..." He struggled over those words as if voicing each one was as horrible as the act of swallowing a razor blade.
"Why would you save me? After all, if killed hundreds of people, employed hundreds more, and nearly killed you and John Watson. Not to mention that I nearly drove you commit suicide...nearly." He realized if Sherlock had actually done it, if he'd jumped off that building...the Irishman would have followed him down, literally followed him to hell.
"Anyone else would have let me do it. And you were the most qualified...excluding John of course. He truly hates me, the poor lad..." Jim shook his head in mock sadness, knowing very well that his mentioning of John would aggravate Sherlock. He sipped his tea, peering across at the man as he awaited a response.
Hi Im Red
Real Life Superhero
"Highly functioning sociopath, not insane chaotic person who enjoys watching people die," Sherlock mused as he took another drink from his tea. He was crazy, that much was blatantly obvious, and to feel things for a man that wanted to kill everything that he cared most about was something else. Why would he ever want to be involved with a man like Moriarty was confusing, even for the great mind of Sherlock Holmes.
He set down the mug he held draping both arms over the arm rests on his chair. "I wouldn't let you kill yourself, I don't kill people, I do however save them." That was of course disclosing Magnussen, that man sent shivers down his spine, and that was a rare feeling even for him. He never had anyone or anything make him feel such a way. He was very innocent, yet could kill without regret at any given moment. That's what made him put a bullet through his head that day. He wouldn't let anything more to happen with that man around, he had to stop him.
"You make it seem as though you wanted to kill yourself," Sherlock pointed out, "or at least have me kill you for that matter," he added. John, oh yes, today would be one of his routine visits. Sherlock had almost forgot. "Yes, John despises you, and would kill you. However I am not John and therefore do not hate you," he said. If anything it was the exact opposite.
He set down the mug he held draping both arms over the arm rests on his chair. "I wouldn't let you kill yourself, I don't kill people, I do however save them." That was of course disclosing Magnussen, that man sent shivers down his spine, and that was a rare feeling even for him. He never had anyone or anything make him feel such a way. He was very innocent, yet could kill without regret at any given moment. That's what made him put a bullet through his head that day. He wouldn't let anything more to happen with that man around, he had to stop him.
"You make it seem as though you wanted to kill yourself," Sherlock pointed out, "or at least have me kill you for that matter," he added. John, oh yes, today would be one of his routine visits. Sherlock had almost forgot. "Yes, John despises you, and would kill you. However I am not John and therefore do not hate you," he said. If anything it was the exact opposite.
ROUX
Hand of the King
"Of course you don't hate me. According to your words, you're incapable of having that emotion, or any others for that matter. Though why you wouldn't want to replecate the emotion for the good of the world is lost on me," he muttered, clutching the cup more tightly than before, causing his hand to shake a bit.
"Oh I did want to kill myself, very much so indeed. For at that moment, before you stopped me, I thought I had you. And if that much was true, it ment you were ordinary...boring...and after all that excitement, I would have simply had nothing to life for. If you'd have killed me Sherlock, you would have been ordinary. If you'd have let me die and actually jumped off that building, you'd have been ordinary. But then you go and pull something I simply did not expect at all...two something's in fact..."
Jim was loosing his patience with the man, and when he lost his patience, he also lost his rationality. He wanted answers, his head was hurting from the effort it was taking to try and figure the detective out all over again, and he'd had to put the tea cup back in it's saucer due to the increased shaking of his hands as anger and confusion clouded his mind.
"Sherly, I don't have time for games. Stop avoiding me, or I'll make you stop," Moriarty threatened, he dangerous truth showing in his face. He threatened Sherlock before, but somehow this felt more reckless. Before he was the one pulling the strings, and Sherlock was just caught up in his game. Now, Jim couldn't help bit feel like the detective had the upper hand, and it scared him a little to be honest.
"Oh I did want to kill myself, very much so indeed. For at that moment, before you stopped me, I thought I had you. And if that much was true, it ment you were ordinary...boring...and after all that excitement, I would have simply had nothing to life for. If you'd have killed me Sherlock, you would have been ordinary. If you'd have let me die and actually jumped off that building, you'd have been ordinary. But then you go and pull something I simply did not expect at all...two something's in fact..."
Jim was loosing his patience with the man, and when he lost his patience, he also lost his rationality. He wanted answers, his head was hurting from the effort it was taking to try and figure the detective out all over again, and he'd had to put the tea cup back in it's saucer due to the increased shaking of his hands as anger and confusion clouded his mind.
"Sherly, I don't have time for games. Stop avoiding me, or I'll make you stop," Moriarty threatened, he dangerous truth showing in his face. He threatened Sherlock before, but somehow this felt more reckless. Before he was the one pulling the strings, and Sherlock was just caught up in his game. Now, Jim couldn't help bit feel like the detective had the upper hand, and it scared him a little to be honest.
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Hi Im Red
Real Life Superhero
Sherlock merely shrugged, "I thought I would switch it up a little. Make things fun," he said in crossing his legs and stepping up off his chair, "I didn't expect you to pull a gun on yourself so I suppose we are both quite predictable," he said. "Still not understanding human nature," he mused noticing how anxious and impatient Jim was becoming. He had said nothing to anger the man or put him on edge so there was no reason for him to be. However he was a psychopath, anything can set him off.
Sherlock walked to the window, checking his watch, 10 minutes. Sherlock prayed that he wouldn't have the child with him today. Sherlock made a 'tsk' sound with his tongue as he turned on his heel to face Moriarty, "Last time you threatened me things went south very fast," he said with a small shake of the head. I would think lightly about the things you say around me," he said clasping his hands behind his back taking a glance out the window to see a cabbie rolling over to the side of the road. He's quite early today. Sherlock thought to himself.
Sherlock walked to the window, checking his watch, 10 minutes. Sherlock prayed that he wouldn't have the child with him today. Sherlock made a 'tsk' sound with his tongue as he turned on his heel to face Moriarty, "Last time you threatened me things went south very fast," he said with a small shake of the head. I would think lightly about the things you say around me," he said clasping his hands behind his back taking a glance out the window to see a cabbie rolling over to the side of the road. He's quite early today. Sherlock thought to himself.
ROUX
Hand of the King
Jim's stared at Sherlock incredulously. Sure, the man had consistently been the only person not to feel threatened by him, the only man alive that dared to speak to Jim the way he sometimes did. Bit it managed to catch him off guard every time anyway, and it only further aggravated him. At a loss for words at the moment, he noticed Sherlock staring out the window, watching something below, and the criminal figured it must have been John. After all, nothing else could keep the detective's attention for so long.
Thinking quickly, Jim pulled himself to his feet, taking the chance to get back at Sherlock for aggravating him. He waited until the man was occupied again, before stalking over and spinning him around forcefully, pushing him against the window with a wild look in his eyes.
"You owe me, Sherlock Holmes, wether you'd like to admit it or not. You. Owe. Me," he growled, a demented spinoff from one of their past conversations in the pool where they'd first met. He'd originally showed up at the flat with one goal only, but by now his unstable mind was racing with another idea.
He wasted no more time, glancing from the figure who was making his way to the front door with a key below and back to the Englishman. He reached up, clutching Sherlock's shirt in his fists and pulling his face extremely close to his. "Kiss me again Sherlock...kiss me again and I'll leave you alone."
Thinking quickly, Jim pulled himself to his feet, taking the chance to get back at Sherlock for aggravating him. He waited until the man was occupied again, before stalking over and spinning him around forcefully, pushing him against the window with a wild look in his eyes.
"You owe me, Sherlock Holmes, wether you'd like to admit it or not. You. Owe. Me," he growled, a demented spinoff from one of their past conversations in the pool where they'd first met. He'd originally showed up at the flat with one goal only, but by now his unstable mind was racing with another idea.
He wasted no more time, glancing from the figure who was making his way to the front door with a key below and back to the Englishman. He reached up, clutching Sherlock's shirt in his fists and pulling his face extremely close to his. "Kiss me again Sherlock...kiss me again and I'll leave you alone."
Hi Im Red
Real Life Superhero
Sherlock let himself look away from the window momentarily, he was going to need to have Moriarty leave unless he wanted to have a gun pulled on him. The Irishman seem much crazier than he normally was, and though it put Sherlock off guard, he was not one bit surprised. He willingly let himself be pushed against the window, almost smiling at the action. "I don't see how that's what I owe you."
He never had any intentions to agrivate Moriarty, however, sometimes the reactions he got out of him was almost funny. "Oh Jim," he mused looking down at the man with a smile, "I do believe you haven't thought that maybe I do not want you to leave," he said. Sherlock went silent, but the smile remained, almost mockingly with an expression so calm. Of course he didn't want Jim to leave, he much rather have the mans antics in his life. It would seem that through all of this, Moriarty has not thought of that possibility.
"I do hope that you know when John walks in here you will most likely be killed. I suggest my room, he never has a reason to be in there, that is, if you wanted a place away from John so you wouldn't be killed," he said, shrugging his shoulders slightly. Sherlock didn't mind if John came in, he could easily keep the other from being killed. Of course John would think much differently of Sherlock, however, if there was something that he didn't want, it was to have Jim Moriarty die.
He never had any intentions to agrivate Moriarty, however, sometimes the reactions he got out of him was almost funny. "Oh Jim," he mused looking down at the man with a smile, "I do believe you haven't thought that maybe I do not want you to leave," he said. Sherlock went silent, but the smile remained, almost mockingly with an expression so calm. Of course he didn't want Jim to leave, he much rather have the mans antics in his life. It would seem that through all of this, Moriarty has not thought of that possibility.
"I do hope that you know when John walks in here you will most likely be killed. I suggest my room, he never has a reason to be in there, that is, if you wanted a place away from John so you wouldn't be killed," he said, shrugging his shoulders slightly. Sherlock didn't mind if John came in, he could easily keep the other from being killed. Of course John would think much differently of Sherlock, however, if there was something that he didn't want, it was to have Jim Moriarty die.
ROUX
Hand of the King
Jim stared for a few moments, probably longer than he initially should have. Afterwards, he removed his hands from Sherlock, stepped back, and brushed himself off emotionlessly. He was no longer angry, or confused, he was instead amused.
"You think I fear death Sherlock? Or just pain itself?" He asked, his small smile failing to hide the tortured look in his eyes. He looked at the door to Sherlock's room and then back to the first. He could hear John coming up the stairs, he knew that he should have taken the detectives advice and hidden in the room, and that's the exact reason why he didn't.
Sherlock had to be messing with him. Why wouldn't he want Jim gone? Ts not as if that kiss was actually real, it was a distraction...and a damn good one too. There was no way Sherlock would love Jim. No one had ever loved Jom, not even himself.
He sunk back into the chair--John's hair at that-- and sighed.
"Let him come. I'm sure you have bandages somewhere..."
"You think I fear death Sherlock? Or just pain itself?" He asked, his small smile failing to hide the tortured look in his eyes. He looked at the door to Sherlock's room and then back to the first. He could hear John coming up the stairs, he knew that he should have taken the detectives advice and hidden in the room, and that's the exact reason why he didn't.
Sherlock had to be messing with him. Why wouldn't he want Jim gone? Ts not as if that kiss was actually real, it was a distraction...and a damn good one too. There was no way Sherlock would love Jim. No one had ever loved Jom, not even himself.
He sunk back into the chair--John's hair at that-- and sighed.
"Let him come. I'm sure you have bandages somewhere..."
Hi Im Red
Real Life Superhero
Sighing -he seemed to be doing that a lot lately- Sherlock walked across the room and to the door. "I don't think I need to ask you to pretend to be an insane Richard Brook," he said mainly to himself. He opened the door seeing John already hobbling his way up the stairs, "John," Sherlock smiled, "You're here early," he said blocking any view the former soldier had of looking into the room. "Every time you come over it's always long tedious talks of what's happened in one another lives. I'm itching for a case, so lets go and find one," he said like a child that had been bored out of their mind for hours. Which, he had been.
Then Moriarty showed up. Sherlock knew that John no longer carried a gun, but he also knew that he would hesitate to strangle the man. If he could he would avoid having John enter the flat at all costs, even if he could convince the man that Jim was insane and not a threat, it would take some time to get there. Sherlock snatched his coat and put it on, turning up his collar.
Then Moriarty showed up. Sherlock knew that John no longer carried a gun, but he also knew that he would hesitate to strangle the man. If he could he would avoid having John enter the flat at all costs, even if he could convince the man that Jim was insane and not a threat, it would take some time to get there. Sherlock snatched his coat and put it on, turning up his collar.
ROUX
Hand of the King
The criminal slammed his teacup down, not even flinching when the hot liquid splashed over his skin.
Jim wanted a reaction. It had been delicious to get the better of Sherlock - even if for a short time - and he craved the man's rare spurts of emotion. Honestly, he didn't care how, and if getting a reaction meant getting it through John, that's what the Irishman would do.
Now irritably determined by Sherlock's demeanor, and utterly bored from being compliant, Jim stood from the chair again and limped over behind the detective, trying to peek over the man's shoulder. Damn him for being so tall, he thought to himself, before leaning against the man to put the weight off of one of his aching ankles as he offered John a sultry grin that he knew would irritate the army doctor.
"Hullooo, John. Fancy meeting you here, eh?" He beamed maliciously, fluttering his eyelashes for effect.
Jim wanted a reaction. It had been delicious to get the better of Sherlock - even if for a short time - and he craved the man's rare spurts of emotion. Honestly, he didn't care how, and if getting a reaction meant getting it through John, that's what the Irishman would do.
Now irritably determined by Sherlock's demeanor, and utterly bored from being compliant, Jim stood from the chair again and limped over behind the detective, trying to peek over the man's shoulder. Damn him for being so tall, he thought to himself, before leaning against the man to put the weight off of one of his aching ankles as he offered John a sultry grin that he knew would irritate the army doctor.
"Hullooo, John. Fancy meeting you here, eh?" He beamed maliciously, fluttering his eyelashes for effect.
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Real Life Superhero
Sherlock tried his very best not to shoot Moriaty then and there, he should have known the man not to follow his orders. He groaned, dropping his head. Not being able to bear the look that he knew John would give him. For one, John didn't ever know if Moriarty was back for sure, and two, to come back here and see it was true, for Moriarty to be here with Sherlock, of all people... He maneuvered himself between the doctor and the criminal, having to give Moriarty a small shove behind him to do so.
John was shocked at first, and it took him a moment to process who was standing behind Sherlock. Just about to lunge forward ad grab him at the throat, Sherlock interfered with his path. That did not stop him, however, he roughly pushed Sherlock out of the way, disregarding any word that came out of his mouth, his calloused hands reaching straight for the fleshy neck of one Jim Moriarty. He tackled him to the ground, much like he did with Sherlock when he came back, this time was different, he kept a firm grasp around Moriarty's neck, keeping him pinned underneath him with a soldiers force. Ignoring Sherlock's "Get off him, John." Only to have himself pealed off of the criminal and held back by Sherlock.
"Why are you helping him?!" he asked, wide eyed, like he was ready to kill someone...two someones actually.
John was shocked at first, and it took him a moment to process who was standing behind Sherlock. Just about to lunge forward ad grab him at the throat, Sherlock interfered with his path. That did not stop him, however, he roughly pushed Sherlock out of the way, disregarding any word that came out of his mouth, his calloused hands reaching straight for the fleshy neck of one Jim Moriarty. He tackled him to the ground, much like he did with Sherlock when he came back, this time was different, he kept a firm grasp around Moriarty's neck, keeping him pinned underneath him with a soldiers force. Ignoring Sherlock's "Get off him, John." Only to have himself pealed off of the criminal and held back by Sherlock.
"Why are you helping him?!" he asked, wide eyed, like he was ready to kill someone...two someones actually.
ROUX
Hand of the King
"Nice to- see you too- ugh," Jim spluttered, rubbing the sore finger marks on his neck from the chokehold. Even as he stifled for breath however, the nam still managed to keep the insufferable crazed smile plastered over his features. He didn't bother getting up from the floor, deciding to just prop himself up with an arm, coughing twice enforce continuing in his honey laced tone.
"I apologize for the inconvenience, Johnnyboy, and Sherrrlllyyy isn't helping me. You see, I am owed an explanation of sorts - I'm not usually the kind of girl that kisses on the first date," he said casually, though not really expecting John to get what he was saying in the literal sense. Jim took note of the detective's expression and bowed head at the dilemma, giggling satisfied with the calculations in his own head - often what made him appear crazy in front of others.
The fresh pain had felt good, fresher than the dullness of the drugs and cutting. He hadn't taken his jacket off, and would have actually felt rather...exposed of all his self inflicted (well mostly) wounds were put on display. He sighed as he rubbed at the back of his head, his fingers coming away bloody from where his cranium had hit the floor hard.
"I apologize for the inconvenience, Johnnyboy, and Sherrrlllyyy isn't helping me. You see, I am owed an explanation of sorts - I'm not usually the kind of girl that kisses on the first date," he said casually, though not really expecting John to get what he was saying in the literal sense. Jim took note of the detective's expression and bowed head at the dilemma, giggling satisfied with the calculations in his own head - often what made him appear crazy in front of others.
The fresh pain had felt good, fresher than the dullness of the drugs and cutting. He hadn't taken his jacket off, and would have actually felt rather...exposed of all his self inflicted (well mostly) wounds were put on display. He sighed as he rubbed at the back of his head, his fingers coming away bloody from where his cranium had hit the floor hard.
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Real Life Superhero
John had pushed against Sherlock's tight grasp, trying to fight against the grip and go kill the man before him. However for some odd reason, Sherlock was protecting him, he didn't want to know why or how, he didn't care if the man lived or not, John merely just wanted him out of this particular flat. They could settle their problems elsewhere. "I'll be down stairs with Mrs. Hudson, I won't call Lestrade unless I hear things gettin out of control," he knew very well that Sherlock could take care of himself, but if this man was going to pull a 'Moriarty' move on him, then John would step in once more, this time with a gun.
After John had left and went downstairs, Sherlock sighed, finally lifting his head, "why must you agrivate him?" He asked rhetorically. Then his eyes caught sight of the blood, "your bleeding," he stated, the impact of his head on the floor must've been harder than he observed, he took the man by his shoulders and turned him around, gently pushing his head down to inspect the wound, the one he couldn't see in the mop of messy brown hair. "I can't see how bad it is, your week old hair is making it difficult," he said taking his hands off the man.
After John had left and went downstairs, Sherlock sighed, finally lifting his head, "why must you agrivate him?" He asked rhetorically. Then his eyes caught sight of the blood, "your bleeding," he stated, the impact of his head on the floor must've been harder than he observed, he took the man by his shoulders and turned him around, gently pushing his head down to inspect the wound, the one he couldn't see in the mop of messy brown hair. "I can't see how bad it is, your week old hair is making it difficult," he said taking his hands off the man.
ROUX
Hand of the King
"Don't touch my hair," Jim muttered halfheartedly, though he didn't resist as Sherlock pushed his head down.
He shivered at the light touch, unused to such acts of concern. No one had ever been concerned for him, or any other...caring emotion really. With Sherlock...he liked it - but at the same time he was terrified of it. Thus, part of the reason why he'd gone bat shit crazy after both of their "supposed deaths". Sherlock had knocked him off guard completely, and he'd somehow done it again.
Inching away from the detective's hand, he sighed, now realizing he was mentally and emotionally drained, he shook his head slowly. "Ill be fine, its just....nevermind."
He shivered at the light touch, unused to such acts of concern. No one had ever been concerned for him, or any other...caring emotion really. With Sherlock...he liked it - but at the same time he was terrified of it. Thus, part of the reason why he'd gone bat shit crazy after both of their "supposed deaths". Sherlock had knocked him off guard completely, and he'd somehow done it again.
Inching away from the detective's hand, he sighed, now realizing he was mentally and emotionally drained, he shook his head slowly. "Ill be fine, its just....nevermind."
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Real Life Superhero
"Are you sure you're alright on your own?" Sherlock asked, brows knitting together. He knew that the medical answer to his question would easily be no. Because if he was to slip into insanity (which it seemed he was on the brink of it) he may just go into another lunatic, raging murdering spree. That may be something Sherlock would prevent at all costs. He already pulled the stunt of scaring the whole British nation, and they were all still eagerly awaiting his arrival that was never to come.
Sherlock did as told and sat back at his chair, taking up the cup of tea while crossing one leg over the other. "Why don't you take a seat, finish your cuppa and collect what I apparently owe you," he said gesturing to the extra seat across from him with his free hand.
Sherlock did as told and sat back at his chair, taking up the cup of tea while crossing one leg over the other. "Why don't you take a seat, finish your cuppa and collect what I apparently owe you," he said gesturing to the extra seat across from him with his free hand.
ROUX
Hand of the King
"I said I'm fine, Sherly!" Jim lied swiftly, projecting his earlier frustration into his voice as he got up from the floor. He didn't actually want Sherlock to know the extent of his injuries, mainly to preserve dignity and prevent embarrassment. Strange. He didn't usually care what others would think of him - who cared what ordinary people thought? But Dherloct was far from ordinary...and somehow, Jim didn't want the man seeing just how deep the self hate was buried in the Irishman's soul.
He stumbled across the floor, actually loosing his balance and landing in the detective's lap rather ungraciously. He couldn't help he blush that reddened his cheeks as he clung to the armrest, the surprise of his fall leaving him off guard. He could feel the throbbing in his head push down on his skull, and he would later claim that this was what made him lean down onto Sherlock's warm chest. He shivered in appreciation, enjoying the sound of the man's earth beating against his ear, not even bothering to attempt to comprehend all the aversion he would have had earlier to their position. His bleeding head wound and fatigue collided at the same time, and the smaller man promptly passed out.
He stumbled across the floor, actually loosing his balance and landing in the detective's lap rather ungraciously. He couldn't help he blush that reddened his cheeks as he clung to the armrest, the surprise of his fall leaving him off guard. He could feel the throbbing in his head push down on his skull, and he would later claim that this was what made him lean down onto Sherlock's warm chest. He shivered in appreciation, enjoying the sound of the man's earth beating against his ear, not even bothering to attempt to comprehend all the aversion he would have had earlier to their position. His bleeding head wound and fatigue collided at the same time, and the smaller man promptly passed out.
