Sherlock Holmes (Ruler) (
improbablenotimpossible) wrote2029-05-28 05:32 pm
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Entry tags:
CMO for
thefoundation/
thefundation
"It's my business to know what other people don't." | ||
UNREAD E-MAILS (12) |
VOICEMAILS (1) |
Ruler: [F198]
TEXT NoDecalogue |
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[He doubted they were completely gone, but the ability to recover them? Probably difficult without some outside aid, depending on what the harlequin did. However, he felt an uneasiness in the pit of his stomach, as if Moriarty had put the snake on his lap]
Do you have... a method in mind already?
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[Happily hoisting the snake out of his coat - who is a little unhappy at not being warm - he walks out of the room.
In no time at all, he's back - now clearly snakeless - and sits down where he was, grinning.]
Now then! All I should have to do is...
[He touches a hand to his forehead-]
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There's a minor mana fluctuation, but nothing seems to be happening...
Until, of course -]
H-Hnnnngh?!
[He suddenly grips his head with both of his hands, his fingers lacing through his hair as he starts to scream.]
Aaa-aaaaaagh!!!
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Moriarty? Moriarty -? What's happening?
[The detective examined him quickly, his eyes darting, looking for the way his mana is flowing, signs on his body - any hint]
1/2
At the question, he manages to stop, though his voice is choked with agony.]
I-it...Gahahaaaaaaaaa-! Head...feels like...exploding....Holmes...I-I-almost remember- Aaaaaaah!!!
[He writhes backwards, suddenly - in silence, almost jerking back, his body tensed...]
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His body suddenly goes limp, hands falling away from his hair, which is now down - to just almost lifelessly flop wherever gravity takes them.
But the most disturbing thing...is his eyes.
They're flat and almost empty - that blue seemingly cloudy as he...just sits there, staring into nothing, silent.]
.....
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If he had expired, his body should be dissolving into golden mist, but yet, his fingers pressed against Moriarty's neck for a pulse before loosening the tie and the top button of his shirt, a leftover instinct from living life as a detective. The man pursed his lips, checking those eyes for a response to movement, and then with the EyePhone - to light.]
God damn it.
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After a long, horrible moment...
He finally blinks, light coming back to those eyes as he groans softly, as if he's a sleeper coming out of deep sleep.]
....Who....are you....?
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The confusion seems sincere... but he had been duped before - but he knows this man's tells, every one of them - there's only one other person whose tells he knows better]
Sherlock Holmes, Ruler.
[He answers as he sits up, in a formal Japanese style, setting the phone aside, within easy reach, that horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach was getting progressively worse - ah, this is what nausea feels like? He almost forgot what that sensation was as he waits for Moriarty's response]
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[His response is genuine - confusion, even as he shakily raises a hand, trying to get himself to a sitting position, but never even getting close.]
That's....not...? What...?
[He closes his eyes - and for that moment, Sherlock might be able to see the glitter of tears gathering.]
N-No...I'm....that's....Sh...No, J-James...
[That raised hand ends up grasping towards Sherlock, unsteady and weak.]
...D...Don't....
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Steady... deep breaths. Just sit still for a while, I wouldn't advise making sudden movements.
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....James...Moriarty. That's...Who I am...right...?
[He says it in that same confused tone, like he's not sure himself, blinking slowly.
...Yet, as time passes, his posture begins to get a little better - as his mind reorganizes itself, slots secrets and other things safely away where he won't mumble about them.]
...Archer...I'm an Archer. A Heroic Servant....even though I'm not a Hero...or even Good...
[That last sentence...is full of something. Some sort of deep pain that's never healed over, only sometimes glimpsed at when the mask falls to the floor.
It only takes a moment more before he makes a confused noise, squeezing his eyes shut before looking Holmes back in the eyes -
And finally, Moriarty is fully back to himself.]
...Holmes? What - What the devil are we doing on the floor...?
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You attempted something to recover missing memories and blacked out.
[Sherlock answered - not seeing a reason to lie to the man, especially to make sure he doesn't try that again.]
You were a little disoriented.
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[He puts a hand to his head, though it's clearly just to try and futilely soothe it instead of trying to remember things.]
That would explain the headache...it feels as if there's a riot going on inside of there. And not a fun one, either...!
[He massages his temples, looking over.]
I suppose I should apologize for making you look after me.
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It's fine - and only you would say a riot is fun.
[At least openly, but he supposes that's the Englishman in Moriarty]
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[He laughs, though it's a bit weak - and picks himself off of the ground, brushing himself off.]
At least now I know not to attempt that again - Whatever's blocking my memory is certainly strong enough to force me to black out. I have half a mind to go to that clown and ask him what he's done, but I assume he'll just take the memory of it when I'm done talking to him - I can barely remember anything after seeing the man!
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[He doesn't comment on the weak laugh as he too rises up to his feet in a smooth motion, hands folding behind his back]
That man is a dangerous one, but you do not need me to tell you that.
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[Moriarty just shrugs - before blinking.]
...Oh. It appears I did manage to remember something, but it's just a mere...thought? A word - it doesn't make any sense, personally.
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And what is that word?
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[He shrugs again.]
As I said, it doesn't make much sense to me.
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The rest may come back yet.