Sherlock Holmes (Ruler) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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shinytoybox2019-05-22 10:16 pm
improbablenotimpossible) wrote in shinytoybox2019-05-22 10:16 pmEntry tags:
improbablenotimpossible) wrote in shinytoybox2019-05-22 10:16 pm
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The shift continued to not end for a while.
Three tries, in fact.
Once again, it is 4 am, and once again, they are commiserating in a room - Moriarty's this time, which is clean and well kept.
The man himself is lying on his bed, groaning once before sitting up and placing a hand over his face.]
What is the Manager doing...I fear my guts will be permanently injured at this rate.
[Indeed, the pain of their wounds is only getting stronger as time goes on. Of course, they tried different solutions and fighting methods, but...]
At least this last time, it was the Army in Black instead of Nothing There.
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[He leans against the wall, hissing softly]
I suspect our Manager might be trying to extract more EGO from them.
Least we know to pull our punches if that damn bird gets in the way.
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[He grumbles a little, but then sighs.]
Still, it seems that Nothing There has already been plumbed, so we will be moving onto the other Alephs in the facility. Army in Black seems to be next, so we will most likely have to live through a few more resets...frustrating.
[He sighs.]
And yes - Punishing Bird is quite...cute, if you ignore it.
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[He sighs, rubbing his hand]
Hard to imagine that we more or less don't fear death long as we're here. Some could call it hell.
[The man glances towards the door - knowing like every morning, they get a few curious looks from the light sleepers, but nowhere near as much as the first time]
We'll see what nonsense the Manager will bring us once the orders come in.
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[Yet again, the words spill out of him without thinking - and he tries not to show it, shrugging easily.]
...Still, we're showing quite the mental fortitude for being stuck in this sort of situation. Many others would have easily gone insane by now.
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[Though it only been a few resets - it's a question of how much longer they can tolerate the resets and looping day]
And we're learning what we can do with what little power we have in this Wing...
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[He yawns a little, blinking.]
What little power...hm, I suppose so. But - aren't you holding back, somewhat?
[After all, those punches....they weren't being augmented by the EGO weapon at all.]
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[He puts a hand behind his neck, rolling his shoulders, pausing for a moment, studying Moriarty for a long, thoughtful moment, considering if he should confirm or deflect.
Well if they're the only ones aware of the resets, might as well confide a little]
So you noticed then?
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[He reaches down slightly under his bed - and pulls out his pistol, casually emptying the clip and tossing the 9mm pistol over to Sherlock.]
Feel free to look it over, if you'd like. It's nothing more than an average gun.
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An ordinary pistol should not have the effect I've seen before, or make the sound that it did.
Odd... odd indeed.
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[He gestures for the weapon back, as he hands over the clip, to allow Sherlock to examine the bullets, which are also normal.]
Then again, your own strength is something to be feared. I've seen you unbend metal easily - while that EGO weapon hides it, I know it isn't that strong against physical objects.
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Well, you caught me. It's something I've been able to do for a long while, handy on the occasion but not something I want to show off.
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[....Wait, was he not sure himself? And purposefully got on this topic to verify his theory?]
How wonderful. Though I suspect you still have a few secrets, I suppose I do as well.
[He cocks back his gun, clipless as it is...and then aims at Sherlock, pulling back the trigger.
Whiz-
Even without a bullet in it, he'll feel a brush of something graze his cheek...along with the thud of a dent the size of a rifle caliber bullet suddenly appear on the wall behind him.]
...Such as, That I use this kind of gun to keep causalities to a minimum.
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[He instinctively holds still as the gun cocks - barely flinching as the specks of drywall hits his cheek.
Message received loud and clear - don't try anything funny with him]
Yes, it would certainly help in that angle.
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[He pauses, for a moment.]
...Much like that one abnormality in the facility.
[The Freeshooter.
His grip tightens on his gun, as his eyes seem to tremble for just the smallest moment.
And then, he lowers it, setting it down near him.]
Well. I suppose - we should be getting some rest, again. Another busy day, after all - another day to nearly die.
[He gives a smile, but it's closed mouthed - warm, but also...not all there.]
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No, it's not the time to pry. He inclines his head at the clear dismissal, a ghost of a smile appearing.
Mystery on mystery, so he is not the only one with enigmas surrounding him.]
With any luck the calendar may change soon.
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[And yet,
There was no luck.
All there was in the end, was -
Suffering.
Over and over again, the different abnormalities breaking out. Smiling Bodies, Blue Star, Even Apocalypse Bird - it kept happening, resets over and over.
It's hard to remember how many resets this is - but this time, Moriarty doesn't even bother knocking on the door, merely waiting until Sherlock wakes and opens it, entering in without a word or prying eyes.
He doesn't even care about the books, as he just bodily flops face down on the other man's bed, letting out a low groan as he feels the pain of the Bird's teeth on the entirety of his body.]
God....damn it......
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He didn't even protest Moriarty flopping on his bed, or that he's effectively pinned]
Damn that bastard... what is he trying to do that he has to do it in one day?
[The man groans low in the back of his throat]
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[His own mind is angry - angry at their helplessness, at the continual repeated tries of their life, that the manager - the fucking manager - never seems to take into account their suffering-!
Heated words spill out of his mouth, and this time, he doesn't try stopping them.]
That man never cared about anything but his own goals, and is practically deaf and blind to anything telling him he should stop!
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Fuck that stubborn fool, there's nothing that's worth the pain and suffering, this damn sisyphean torment...
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[He doesn't stop to consider where this is coming from.]
The damned idiot - how much longer must we be forced to go through this?! How far will he go?! Ayin!!
[The moment he says that name -
[ ] never wanted his creations to be used to hurt people. The chemicals and drugs he made were meant to better mankind, not harm them.
That's why he insisted on so many rounds of clinical trials on animals, gathering data. But it wasn't fast enough, and Cognito was too much of an incredible mind-enhancing drug to not experiment on.
When he heard of Elijah and Giovanni's outcomes, he went right to the source.
And in his haste, he was confined to the lab that created the very things that took people's lives.
When Moriarty comes back to himself, he's breathing heavily, the prick of tears shocking to feel.]
...What...?
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[He whispers, sharp and low, hissing like a snake - the name meant something. Something bad - no, wrong? It's fogged up, something from the time before he found himself wandering in some unknown place.
Why is it familiar? The name causing his chest to ache with regret and anger. He hunches over, arms wrapped around himself, watching as Moriarty grew still, tears springing up]
...Is that... is that his name?
Why...
[The question dies on his lips]
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[He props himself up, wiping his eyes in a stunned fashion.]
...Did you....see that, too? Cognito....
[He's heard it's name in passing, somewhere, but...
Who was that? What was he remembering?]
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[He answers numbly. Cognito - the name suggests something of the mind]
We're seeing the same things, know the same name...
[His brows knitted, why is it? Did it involve what he cannot remember of his past?]
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And then speaks.
And when he does, it's...
in the same tone a younger man might use, his normally old tone somehow lacking.]
...Do you...not have much of a past, either?
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