[ And without much ceremony, the door opens, Aberdeen stepping back, her device in her hands, fingers blindly typing out message after message. She doesn't say anything, just leaves him to set the ball rolling. ]
[ action ] also i'd apologize for tl;dr but at this point it's just holmes
[ And whether she's listening or not, he does begin his tirade, safely once the door is shut behind him. ]
Cooperation is the keyword, but their inattentiveness is their immediate downfall. What remains the question is if the list is meant as a warning of sorts, a means for inciting cooperation among the crew - also possibly supplementary, also likely, and has not yet been ruled out, nor will it in the near future - but rather it serves more as an example rather than a warning. Warnings are not encoded. Warnings are pasted in large, blocked letters. "Caution". "Keep out". "No trespassing". And though it's the trespassers who are undoubtedly being focused upon, the list is incomplete.
[ He's been pacing this entire time, and the thought process comes out in one, long, seamless spew - it's hardly even intelligible, how quickly he speaks and how fast he translates his thought process into actual English language. His nails scratch angrily at one of his arms through the sleeve of his jumpsuit, and he has yet to have turned his gaze to Aberdeen, or even acknowledge her presence. ]
[ But she's smart. She's very smart. And at the time being- he doesn't want to implicate John or Watson. Not just yet. ]
[ Therefore, she'll make a terrific sounding board. ]
The message was palpably meant for those whose names would be on it - for those who would figure it out, a simple encryption, and solved within hours, minutes for some. Hacking obviously being the easier of the solution but my research on the ship herein has been my only saving grace, thankfully - though not luckily, as I knew the information would come in handy, and less luckily it was later than sooner - but the question I mean to ask is this:
[ And now he does turn to Aberdeen, and when he looks up, his eyes are wide, they're bloodshot and too sharp, and his fingernails are bloodied around the cuticles from where he's been biting. ] The list is incomplete. Why? A pattern amongst those listed? Or mere laziness?
Edited 2012-05-17 19:23 (UTC)
[ action ] oh god never I LOVE HIM alkjsdf i'm sorry i'm not nearly tl;dr
[ She doesn't say anything, doesn't do anything — all of her still save the tap tap tap of her fingers on the keyboard, the occasional chime that tells her that you've got mail. Even the click of metal that usually comes from her mouth is silent as she stares at him and lets him talk, lets him rattle himself breathless and frenzied and she wonders when he looks at her if that bloodshot look in his eyes is sleeplessness or inspiration or something else (chemical).
After a long silence, she finally speaks, her fingers stilling. (Proper silence.) ]
Do you need me to listen or do you need me to talk?
[ action ] OKAY GOOD BECAUSE HE'LL NEVER STOP also never feel obligated to match me in length lmfao
[ He says quickly and far too harshly, but she shouldn't take it personally - he's holding up a hand to her. It's clear she's a sounding board for the time being, and her participation is certainly welcomed if she'd like, but only if she's contributing something useful. ]
[ As for his eyes, well. Chemical, he wishes. Inspiration, more than likely. Sleeplessness, always (lately). He doesn't move for along minute, and the gears ticking in his head are practically visible, but they're grinding along, they're rusted, slowed, and he hates it, he absolutely loathes it. His heels bury into his eyes after a moment, and when his sleeves ride up in the slightest, it's clear that the scratching has been more of a regular occurrence than a passing hobby. ]
There's no illusion of safety when they have people so easily taking the ship and doing with it as they please - Megamind, and his mutiny; the angel, and his influx of demons; the doctor, and his "fear gas," [ the last of which is said with a bit of an uncharacteristic quake to his voice. It's affected him more than he's liked to admit, ] and so the attempts to lull those who aren't on the actual list would be utterly fruitless, and with hints so overly clever and meretricious, there's no way the solution would be so simple.
Which brings to mind the overlooking, but the same logic applies - so carefully documented, who has been causing the trouble and who hasn't; so carefully watching those who haven't sat back and merely enjoyed the ride, even though the ones listed are the most palpable of the bunch and the most widely known - the martyrs, perhaps, the most obvious in order to make the point the most clear, but they would only need a few for that - just a small handful would more than suffice; no, they included more and more, over a dozen (?), and each one all have the same thing in common: troublemakers.
[ And when he looks up to Abderdeen this time, he seems to be looking, actually looking at her, his eyes focus and he tugs at a sleeve of his with a bit of wariness, eyeing her curiously. For the first time since he's entered the room, she's more than a human brick wall - she exists. ] Why am I not on the list?
[ Too harsh and too quick but she doesn't take it personally. (It is, in its way, the answer she'd asked for and Aberdeen is more than accustomed to listening.) When his sleeves ride up, Aberdeen's attention drifts to his forearms and she's reminded of the previous Aberdeens — the ones that came before her, now decommissioned, their eyes gone deaf and their minds gone soft. They wouldn't bring her into the Order without full disclosure of what she was getting herself into; and some of those Aberdeens, wore threadbare and thin by too much noise, had arms much the same. (Something inside of them, trying to get out; sometimes Aberdeen knows what that feels like.)
There's the urge to reach out and touch him but she doesn't know why and she doesn't think it's appropriate.
Again, she stares, waits to see if he starts up again before she answers. ] Is your intellect asking? Or your ego.
[ Four months he's been on the Transquility. Four months with small bouts of excitement, but a case with dead ends abound. The last time he'd been without a case this long, it had been three months, and he'd been shooting holes into his wall whilst on enough drugs to kill an elephant. ]
[ Here, there is nothing. There is quiet. There are books and there is eating, sleeping, smoking, there is the network to watch and, occasionally, blissfully, there is fight club. He hasn't been sober since university. And it's very slowly eating him alive. It's lucky he was too lost in his thoughts to notice her eyes drifting to his own, but now that he's not trapped in his own tangle of yarn inside his own skull, he's self-aware, and his arms fold behind his back. ]
Intellect. [ His voice is decisive, before he raises a chin and gives a delicate sniff. ] Both. They can't have seen what I've been working on.
[ He folds his arms behind his back and again (for some reason she can't quite discern within herself) it irritates her. Is it pretense, is it shame? (Whatever it is, she isn't sure it has any place between them but now isn't the time or the place to push. The detail gets filed away for later, her eyes lingering for a moment too long on his elbow before meeting his gaze again.) Sherlock says intellect and that gets her tilt her head in silent question. Then he amends and says both and her expression smooths (that seems more accurate). ]
The list is partial or otherwise random and provided in order to incite derision or confusion, without any possibility of actual solution. Smile's intentions aren't clear and without comprehensive intel, the conclusions drawn are pure supposition. [ A pause. ] People are driven by the desire to find pattens in chaos. And sometimes those patterns exist.
[ She takes a step forward, closer, settling her weight square in front of him. ]
But sometimes they don't.
[ action ] /CLUTCHES IT TO HIS STILL EXISTENT BOSOM
[ Sherlock Holmes represses absolutely nothing in his life. There is so little he has ever been ashamed of in his life that he has felt the need to hide from anyone. His reaction to Crane's fear gas is one of those things. His drug use is intermittently another. His scratches and claw marks being a direct symptom (or consequence?) of one (or possibly both) of the latter is a matter of concern, and his own private business that he doesn't care to ever share with anyone, particularly strangers. Those he cares more for, who have tentatively edged their way into a circle of people he genuinely cares for, the story changes mildly. ]
[ It's very small, but- He supposes Aberdeen has made her way into that group of people. He's not entirely sure when that happened. Maybe it was the moment he met her. ]
[ He watches her step forward and his fingers thread behind his back. He doesn't budge otherwise, doesn't back down even from a gaze so steely as hers. He likes it. It's not like any of the others'. It's honest in its lack of warmth, and he can appreciate it. ]
Precisely the reason I find myself so disappointed with the information at hand. So many seem to think we have made such a large breakthrough, but really all we've leard is what it is we already know: those who are capable of those own thoughts, those who are capable at all, and those who are going to potentially cause a considerable amount of trouble for whoever it is that wants this ship to run so smoothly as it hasn't been so far.
[ His head tips to the side a little, to make her gaze follow his own; a small psychological trick. ] The last crew was entirely wiped out. Disappeared without a trace, and they've yet to tell us why, how, or any other detail between. Therein lies where out attentions should be pointed. { Not, he seems to be implying, whatever it is he has hidden beneath his sleeves. ]
[ She follows his gaze, but not because she's so easily lead. She follows his gaze because she wants to follow it and when she reads the entirety of his implication, she allows her eyes to shift back in near defiance. (I do what I want, when I want to. And when I want to be invested in you, you'd better not stop me.) Still, for his sake, that shift last only a moment and she meeting his gaze again, her mouth thinning. ]
Not everyone, [ she corrects. ] Ward and Resnik are supposed carryovers from the previous crew. [ And after a beat, she adds: ] You should talk to them. Preferably in person.
[ Aberdeen can tell when a person's lying because she can hear the physiological changes that happen to a body when the lie occurs. Subtle changes (pulse, pace, swallow) but just like a person can fudge a lie detector test, Aberdeen's methods aren't infallible. Perhaps it says something that she thinks that Sherlock and his powers of observation are. ] One look, and you'd know.
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i won't insult your intelligence enough to inform you about what you already know, so i merely want to set up a meeting place. off the network.
[ locked | 100% ]
earliest convenience.
[ locked | 100% ]
[ And he's there within moments, knuckles rapping. He really does have nothing better to do; why would he waste time? ]
[ action ]
[ action ] also i'd apologize for tl;dr but at this point it's just holmes
Cooperation is the keyword, but their inattentiveness is their immediate downfall. What remains the question is if the list is meant as a warning of sorts, a means for inciting cooperation among the crew - also possibly supplementary, also likely, and has not yet been ruled out, nor will it in the near future - but rather it serves more as an example rather than a warning. Warnings are not encoded. Warnings are pasted in large, blocked letters. "Caution". "Keep out". "No trespassing". And though it's the trespassers who are undoubtedly being focused upon, the list is incomplete.
[ He's been pacing this entire time, and the thought process comes out in one, long, seamless spew - it's hardly even intelligible, how quickly he speaks and how fast he translates his thought process into actual English language. His nails scratch angrily at one of his arms through the sleeve of his jumpsuit, and he has yet to have turned his gaze to Aberdeen, or even acknowledge her presence. ]
[ But she's smart. She's very smart. And at the time being- he doesn't want to implicate John or Watson. Not just yet. ]
[ Therefore, she'll make a terrific sounding board. ]
The message was palpably meant for those whose names would be on it - for those who would figure it out, a simple encryption, and solved within hours, minutes for some. Hacking obviously being the easier of the solution but my research on the ship herein has been my only saving grace, thankfully - though not luckily, as I knew the information would come in handy, and less luckily it was later than sooner - but the question I mean to ask is this:
[ And now he does turn to Aberdeen, and when he looks up, his eyes are wide, they're bloodshot and too sharp, and his fingernails are bloodied around the cuticles from where he's been biting. ] The list is incomplete. Why? A pattern amongst those listed? Or mere laziness?
[ action ] oh god never I LOVE HIM alkjsdf i'm sorry i'm not nearly tl;dr
After a long silence, she finally speaks, her fingers stilling. (Proper silence.) ]
Do you need me to listen or do you need me to talk?
[ action ] OKAY GOOD BECAUSE HE'LL NEVER STOP also never feel obligated to match me in length lmfao
[ He says quickly and far too harshly, but she shouldn't take it personally - he's holding up a hand to her. It's clear she's a sounding board for the time being, and her participation is certainly welcomed if she'd like, but only if she's contributing something useful. ]
[ As for his eyes, well. Chemical, he wishes. Inspiration, more than likely. Sleeplessness, always (lately). He doesn't move for along minute, and the gears ticking in his head are practically visible, but they're grinding along, they're rusted, slowed, and he hates it, he absolutely loathes it. His heels bury into his eyes after a moment, and when his sleeves ride up in the slightest, it's clear that the scratching has been more of a regular occurrence than a passing hobby. ]
There's no illusion of safety when they have people so easily taking the ship and doing with it as they please - Megamind, and his mutiny; the angel, and his influx of demons; the doctor, and his "fear gas," [ the last of which is said with a bit of an uncharacteristic quake to his voice. It's affected him more than he's liked to admit, ] and so the attempts to lull those who aren't on the actual list would be utterly fruitless, and with hints so overly clever and meretricious, there's no way the solution would be so simple.
Which brings to mind the overlooking, but the same logic applies - so carefully documented, who has been causing the trouble and who hasn't; so carefully watching those who haven't sat back and merely enjoyed the ride, even though the ones listed are the most palpable of the bunch and the most widely known - the martyrs, perhaps, the most obvious in order to make the point the most clear, but they would only need a few for that - just a small handful would more than suffice; no, they included more and more, over a dozen (?), and each one all have the same thing in common: troublemakers.
[ And when he looks up to Abderdeen this time, he seems to be looking, actually looking at her, his eyes focus and he tugs at a sleeve of his with a bit of wariness, eyeing her curiously. For the first time since he's entered the room, she's more than a human brick wall - she exists. ] Why am I not on the list?
[ action ] HRNNNGH i enjoy their interaction sob
There's the urge to reach out and touch him but she doesn't know why and she doesn't think it's appropriate.
Again, she stares, waits to see if he starts up again before she answers. ] Is your intellect asking? Or your ego.
[ action ] fucking. this.
[ Here, there is nothing. There is quiet. There are books and there is eating, sleeping, smoking, there is the network to watch and, occasionally, blissfully, there is fight club. He hasn't been sober since university. And it's very slowly eating him alive. It's lucky he was too lost in his thoughts to notice her eyes drifting to his own, but now that he's not trapped in his own tangle of yarn inside his own skull, he's self-aware, and his arms fold behind his back. ]
Intellect. [ His voice is decisive, before he raises a chin and gives a delicate sniff. ] Both. They can't have seen what I've been working on.
[ action ] ugh CRADLES THEIR CR SO CLOSE alkjfs
The list is partial or otherwise random and provided in order to incite derision or confusion, without any possibility of actual solution. Smile's intentions aren't clear and without comprehensive intel, the conclusions drawn are pure supposition. [ A pause. ] People are driven by the desire to find pattens in chaos. And sometimes those patterns exist.
[ She takes a step forward, closer, settling her weight square in front of him. ]
But sometimes they don't.
[ action ] /CLUTCHES IT TO HIS STILL EXISTENT BOSOM
[ It's very small, but- He supposes Aberdeen has made her way into that group of people. He's not entirely sure when that happened. Maybe it was the moment he met her. ]
[ He watches her step forward and his fingers thread behind his back. He doesn't budge otherwise, doesn't back down even from a gaze so steely as hers. He likes it. It's not like any of the others'. It's honest in its lack of warmth, and he can appreciate it. ]
Precisely the reason I find myself so disappointed with the information at hand. So many seem to think we have made such a large breakthrough, but really all we've leard is what it is we already know: those who are capable of those own thoughts, those who are capable at all, and those who are going to potentially cause a considerable amount of trouble for whoever it is that wants this ship to run so smoothly as it hasn't been so far.
[ His head tips to the side a little, to make her gaze follow his own; a small psychological trick. ] The last crew was entirely wiped out. Disappeared without a trace, and they've yet to tell us why, how, or any other detail between. Therein lies where out attentions should be pointed. { Not, he seems to be implying, whatever it is he has hidden beneath his sleeves. ]
[ action ] brainbros :c
Not everyone, [ she corrects. ] Ward and Resnik are supposed carryovers from the previous crew. [ And after a beat, she adds: ] You should talk to them. Preferably in person.
[ Aberdeen can tell when a person's lying because she can hear the physiological changes that happen to a body when the lie occurs. Subtle changes (pulse, pace, swallow) but just like a person can fudge a lie detector test, Aberdeen's methods aren't infallible. Perhaps it says something that she thinks that Sherlock and his powers of observation are. ] One look, and you'd know.