improbablenotimpossible | CMO for thefoundation/thefundation

[He relaxes considerably as the snake was returned, wondering what Moriarty was up to. The mana flowed and - at the sudden grip, the screaming - he immediately grabs the man's shoulders to steady him. Their rivalry forgotten, his revulsion at touching the man - that didn't matter, seeing the man appearing to be in such pain stirred the part of him that wanted to help people.]

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]

[The odd thing is, there's no signs on his body - his mana flow is normal as well. Yet, he's still screaming, his fingers practically buried into his scalp due to the pain.

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...]

[...And then, like a puppet with it's strings cut...

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.]

.....

[He instinctively reaches, and grabs onto the man as he drops, grunting slightly as he lays the man down, quickly kneeling - his breath catches in his throat at the sight, flashing back to the drenched body he pulled out of the falls.

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.

[There's still a pulse - yet he doesn't react as his tie and shirt are loosened, nor does his eyes respond to movement...but they contract as the eyephone's light hits it, which is a good sign, right?

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....?

[His heart catches in his throat at the moment, feeling tight. Sherlock breathes in, out - he can't panic again.

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]

Sh...erlock....Holmes...?

[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....

[He ignored his instinctive call to not do it, but he grasped the man's hand to help him sit up, almost startled by the display of tears in the man's eyes. Something squirmed in the back of his head at Archer's confused mumbling, something hissing in warning, like somehow - something is very wrong. Dangerous]

Steady... deep breaths. Just sit still for a while, I wouldn't advise making sudden movements.

Edited 2019-05-31 06:10 (UTC)

[He won't be making any sudden movements - as he sits up, he slumps over, supported pretty much only by his own frame.]

....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...?

[That pained way he said 'good' seem to resonate in something within him in a way he can't quite put his finger. But as Moriarty seem to gather himself, the tension that coiled him in seem to ebb, and he exhales. Once the man questioned him about their position, he lets go of his hand]

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.

Mrrgh....

[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.

[The servant shook his head]

It's fine - and only you would say a riot is fun.

[At least openly, but he supposes that's the Englishman in Moriarty]

Openly, at least! Come now, you've had to have seen how plenty of our fellow countrymen throw themselves joyfully into the throng when the opportunity arises!

[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!

That is true, there was that business with that messianic cult...

[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.

Hm? Of course - I am on the same path as he is, so I am well aware of how dangerous he is.

[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.

[And that immediately piqued his interest]

And what is that word?

"Canary."

[He shrugs again.]

As I said, it doesn't make much sense to me.

[Ah, likely it came from what questioning Mayuri might have done before the other Servant's memory was wiped. He files it away, not entirely sure if there's a deeper significance other than that harlequin tried to capture Watanuki, but he'll keep it in mind when he does his own searches]

The rest may come back yet.

"It's my business to know what other people don't."
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