drybones | test drive meme: pre-game opening #1

Too many. Move. [With out wiating for her he turned and headed for the empty street, keeping note of where the taller buildings were. THey needed something strong and high.]

[She stays at his side, careful of their surroundings. He didn't have to worry about things as they walked, but she had to skirt around them.]

[Yellow eyes darted to the door Yukito mentioned and then he nodded, agreeing with her. His hands force the door open with probably too much strength because it was indeed open. A normal person would think twice before entering an open basement, but Ryoki is a special boy, so he doesn’t. He walks inside, bat still in his hand and making sure Yukito is behind him, following.

Of course the basement was occupied by two zombies. But Ryoki didn’t panic. No, instead, he huffs and a sadistic smirk that Yukito is probably not used to (she might only have noticed it once before, when the half fought Tetsu) grows on his face as he holds the bat up. He had no excuses to hold back now, he could unleash all of his anger and blood-lust without any problems because this became “natural”.

And with that in mind, and the pleasure pooling in his body, the hunger for a fight itching and the need for blood scratching the back of his mind, Ryoki throws himself at the undead, bat swinging to it one right on it’s face and probably crack it open.]

[When they were afr enough away that he felt safe, he turned them towards a small tower of brick and steel.]

[She watched him look on.] These buildings, they'll keep us safe?

[He raised an eyebrow at the other man, expression slightly mocking.]

Better than most? What is it, then?

[ He had to admit. This entire situation was beyond unnerving, and even insulting. Him, a fictional character?

The walking dead was an entirely different problem.

But this was a game, wasn't it? Someone dragged him here for some game, and he would be damned if he didn't have his go at understanding it. If he lost.

But there was another problem presented to him, in the form of him. Jim Moriarty. There was a rush of thoughts, memories, and even, god forbid, emotions at the sight of the man.

All Sherlock does, however, is fix him with a solid, steady glare. ]

You.

[ well, it was lucky for Sherlock that this one had his powers limited. Not that he knew it, but if the hit was a tad harder? There would've been that disgusting sound of cracking bone.
His jaw set, as he could finally take a deep inhale, stare unwavering.

The game was still on.

His eyes flicker over to the offered hand. Generally speaking, it would've been easier to accept it. Would've been easier to actually get up, to stabilize himself with the help. But it would be adding insult to injury. And Sherlock's own ego couldn't afford said insult.

So he rises on his own, avoiding the hand on principal. His movement is still unsteady, and there's an unpleasant rasp in his throat. And yet he straightens, spine stacked

A flinch in the form of a blink, a twitch of his lips. 'my clever Holmes'. It almost made it sound like if the other man could, he would have his control over Sherlock. It set him on edge. ]

The name you gave me. Luke. It can't be far from the real name, given how high you value your own being. So, gods whose names start with 'L'. Isolating anything from Christianity, no offense. Disregarding any minor gods-- and before you say so, thats not a complement.[ his eyes narrow again, head tilting as he scans the other over.] Lugh, the Celtic solar deity. Or Loki, the trickster god.

Luke is closer to Loki. Your skin is colder, which would techinically fit the myth of you being son of Laufey. [ he pauses, before adding, for the sake of his argument, and perhaps maintaining his grounded view of the world:] All hypothetical, of course. You could have had precise defense training.

[It might be a game, but Jim could appreciate the nature of it. Stick everyone in a life-threatening situation, add in the additional panic by telling them they're not real. People would begin to question everything, either fall under from the pressure or rise up and declare themselves a hero...

Normal people were so adorable.

And then there was Sherlock. He could be quite ordinary at times, too. But he thought differently, he thought himself clever. Jim would enjoy watching him crack.

Flashing the detective a smile, Jim stood to properly greet him. His voice cheerful and in the worst way possible.]

It's good to see you too.

[He gives Jim a wry smile.]

What is what?

[He watched the other stand, refusing the hand Loki offered. Oh very good, very good indeed. Proud, stubborn, defiant and willing to dig in deep for what he wants.

If Sherlock wnated to keeping playing, so would Loki.

Listening to the others reasoning, arching a brow at reference to Christianity, smirking at the dig at Minor deities.

The reference to Laufey however makes his smile grow cold and hard. Well then.]

But of course, purely hypothetical.

There is no way a god of any kind could exist in your stable little world where the rules are known to you and you are the best player. [Another chuckle before he pauses, looking Sherlock over with an intense kind of speculation.] One wonders though, how well you could bear having those rules broken?

[ he's relieved to see her largely unhurt; the dust and fatigue aren't immediately concerning. he saw a few shambling corpses on his way through town, but now that the sun is setting, he doubts it's safe to stay outdoors. ]

Come on. We should get inside.

If we are fortunate. [He heads towards them, fast and quiet.] And clever.

[He tilted his head, watching Loki expectantly. The man wasn't what he'd deem 'ordinary'. He seemed clever enough, but that would need to be proven. His clothing and his way of speaking were clues enough. It didn't matter to Jim if this man was as mentally unstable as he looked, because either way he'd likely be dangerous. Quality entertainment.]

If the stories we were told were not the truth, what is?

[ An exhale. Well, at least right now, breathing wasn't exactly...boring.

But as said earlier, once Sherlock enters a game, he won't just back off without even some form of victory.

At the hardening smile, he can't help arch a brow, suddenly willing to let that smugness of his surface.

He realized this man (?) could actually hurt him, but push for push? Nevermind the fact that Sherlock was getting some sort of thrill from this game, despite all his glares, and even discomforts. ] Did I hit a nerve, Loki?

[ But that self-assurance is quick to waver at the inquiry Loki offers. He peels his gaze away, instead for a brief moment casting a glance around them. At the very least, there was no sight of the undead.

He swallows. ] Precisely. If gods existed, it would a completely different world. Science would be answered with miracles, and logic would hardly be useful when everything can be explained by simply blaming -- or calling -- to the so-called higher powers.

[ a beat.] It's ridiculous. [ though there's another pause, as he directs his attention back to the other. A snort. ] And let me guess. You're going to take a go at breaking those rules.

[ the diversion is used only to keep himself from focusing too much on the possibility. Though their entire situation was already pushing it. The walking corpses? Though truth be told, not even Sherlock could know his reaction if what he was certain of about his world was suddenly....wrong. Doubt was not something often felt. He'd like to keep it that way. ]

What is the truth? Not my place to say. I am one who deals with lies. [Loki gives a little shrug and a ghost of a smile.]

[He rolled his eyes at that, it wasn't what he'd wanted to hear. Being cryptic doesn't make a person clever.]

That much is obvious, I was curious as to what your theory was.

Edited 2012-06-15 15:55 (UTC)

[The smirk, did he think himself victor now that he guessed Loki's name.]

Not a nerve.

[A lie but it was no matter. He see's the tiny falter, the swallow.]
Magic and science? Are they really so different? The application of knowledge put into practise so that we may see the world anew.

You assume the gods care to answer you.

[Loki grins. Why should he attempt to show what he could conjure, weakened as he was when pushing the other intoa corner was so much fun?]

Running from the idea, are we? Is it really that bad to find you were wrong? [Loki sets his hands behind his back.] Is it not said that knowing how little you know is the best way to understand all?

And if I had none?

[There's a chuckle and he leans back against the wall.]

Then if we are fiction, we should use this chance to press the bounds of our knowing and if this is simply a ruse? What does it matter. We are here. What is important is what we do next.

Do you have a theory, Jim?

[ in this case, it was small victories at a time. ]

Of course not. [ its a quip back as his tension does not recede. ]

Magic is an impossibility. [ can he really afford to think otherwise without compromising his comfort?] The world needs precision , facts. Its made of equations and connections and links, even if most are too dull to see them. Why should I believe differently?

[ A mild scowl. ] I don't assume the "gods" care, because there are none. If they existed, I would know. [ such confidence in his abilities. ]

[ he doesn't answer the last questions. He was running, but he wouldn't admit it, would he now? And yes, it would be so bad to be wrong.] I know what is relevant to my needs. I don't claim to know everything. I see, remember, acquire new data--

[ he cuts himself off , choosing to take another diversion. Another idea.] Can you prove it then? What you are. [ perhaps if he tempts him--

He steps forward, closer, on the edge of invading Loki's space. ] Prove me wrong, Loki. Show me how little I know.

Is it? And you would know this how?
[Loki smiles, mad gleeful joy in his eyes. How hard will you cling Mr Holmes?] Can you say you know how a thing works or how it would not when you are utterly ignorant of it?

[His grin grows sharper.]

And how would you know of this?
[He didn't need to admit, Loki knew well enough that he was scrambling for whatever purchase he could find. The shift in gear doesn't surprise Loki, the tactic was often his to use though he did it with far more elegance. The look he gives Sherlock is almost affectionate.]

As you wish, Sherlock Holmes. [He lifts his hand a gently touches his fingers to the others temple, quickly summoning what magic he could.]

Don't forget to breathe. [Loki casts his spell with a flex of his fingers sending memories, all the images, sensations, sounds and smells of Asgard, the AllFather, Thor, the Bifrost, Jotunheim and Midgard in it's infancy. All the things people would recognise from his myths.]

Because I -- [ he had replies, retorts, more quips and rushed phrases ready on the tip of his tongue.
But how did this man see right through him? Through his stoic demeanor, picked at his doubt.
At first, his brows draw together at the look he receives. Endreament - the word passes through his mind, and his own expression shifts to that of confusion, suspicion, irritation all at once. But when he senses, more than sees, the rising hand, his reflex is to cant his head back slightly. Away.

He flinches at the cold touch.

Images. There's a rush of them, of things that look like memories, feel like memories even if they defy all logic -- they're played within his mind. It's an overload, an assault to his senses and he numbly realized why Loki reminded him to breathe --

Because he couldn't. Eyes firmly squeezed shut as his own hand jerks up to the other's, closing around the wrist as he attempt to drag it away from -- to make the rush stop.
But that thought, of wanting the connection to be broken only lasts for a moment. Whilst his grip doesn't fall away, eyes snap open as he forces himself to take in a gasp. Pupils dilate, he stumbles.

What did he just see?

It was just the slightest touch away from being too much. Too much to accept, too much to understand. There was no device, no human who could communicate images like this but --

It was also on the brink of thrilling. If he could show him this, what else could be shown?]

That was -- [ what do you know. You've stumpted him speechless. His response is a stare. There's a spark of doubt, disbelief, awe within it.

He wanted to see more. He needed to understand.
He knows he should turns around and run if this really is the God of Mischief. But he can't. ] What else?

[He saw because he's had over a millenia to practise, he saw because lies are seeing through them in others is his trade.

Loki watches impassively as his memories assult Sherlock, the mortal struggling to handle the impressions filled his senses. He smiles, approving with a hungry grin when the other doesn't break away, but sees.

He lets go and watches patiently as the other stumbles, speechless and in awe. There's a certain high to having that effect, to breaking the barriers of anothers world and there and then he rides the high.]

Yes?

[The smile he gives is all teeth.] You'll have to be more specific, Sherlock Holmes. There is so much out there than you cannot imagine.

How do you feel?

[ there was certainly something invigorating about this entire place. On the other hand, it could simply be someone trying too hard. Sooner or later, survival would become key, wouldn't it?

Because there were no heroes.

Sherlock watched the other rise. There was a brief spark of a thought that perhaps them being here was one of Moriarty's plots.

But then, he wouldn't be here himself, would he? Or perhaps he would, if only to watch.

But the walking dead? No, Moriarty's was creative, and all this seemed like one huge cliche.] Oh, I'm sure.

[ He doesn't offer much else yet, careful, scrutinizing. ]

[ Assault is right, and it takes Sherlock longer than he would have liked to recollect himself.

The rush is -- incredible. Disorienting, numbing, but heightened.

And the high is far greater than anything else he has tried. It could easily become an addiction.

His gaze flares. The moment of hesitation -- he should be cautious, he shouldn't be so brash -- passes quickly. There is a possibility of seeing more.

He is driven by the urge to understand and is almost derailed by the question.]

What -- I'm fine -- [ not like cares much about that - about the daze, his head swimming. ] How much more?

[ hold on. The gears are turning: ] -- You're not human. [ he will perhaps, perhaps, accept the possibility now.

The fact that his world was turning upside down hasn't yet dawned on him. ]

Edited 2012-06-15 19:11 (UTC)

test drive meme: pre-game opening #1

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oh. oh hello.

C: and I'm sorry for tl;dr-ing like...all my tags ;~;

:)

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I love TL:DR so no worries! <3!

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<3! I know I've said this before but uggu I'm loving this so much.

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So am I!

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:)

Re: :)

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