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john druitt had a chest monster ([info]exquisiterush) wrote in [info]colligo_threads,
@ 2010-12-11 00:31:00

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Entry tags:james watson, john druitt

Who: John Druitt and James Watson.
What: Sherlock Holmes and Jack the Ripper walk out of a library.
Where: In and around the Grand Library.
When: Evening.
Rating: TBD.
Status: In progress.

He had forgotten this place, forgotten the time he had spent without the curse that had come with his ability. Somehow the months back home, lost in a haze of rage and drugs, seemed even crueller with the memory of what it had been like here. And now he was back, but that thing was still inside him, and with it the rage and that violence that tore at him every day. He'd been managing it, barely, but now with Helen's life slipping away by the moment, and little hope of saving her, it was getting harder and harder to keep control. He couldn't...no, he wouldn't let himself be mastered by this parasite. He was better than this. He could be better than this. He closed his eyes and took a moment to steady himself against one of the bookshelves, just breathing.

The suits of armour were certainly taking their time, he mused, almost as if they were waiting for something. But what? The unspoken question was answered when he opened his eyes and saw someone he had never expected to see again. Even having been here before, having seen Ashley alive again, this shocked him. With Ashley, there had always been doubt. Even when he'd told Helen there was no chance, he'd wanted to believe that the lack of a body meant she was out there somewhere. He'd been there when James died, had watched it happen unable to do anything to stop it. Between this and recent events with Adam, he was getting more than his fill of dead men. He stared for a moment before working up the nerve to speak, his voice tired even as the words held his typical snark.

"Not that I'm complaining, old boy," he said, "but I expected the ghost of Christmas past to look a bit different. Perhaps like Helen, before she started colouring her hair."


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[info]exquisiterush
2010-12-11 09:56 am UTC (link)
"Oh, I've no doubt you would pester me into eternity given half a chance," John said with a smile that somehow managed to be at once both fond and derisive. "But if you wanted to be Marley, you would have to be quite a bit older, and I must confess I prefer you in good health. And thus Christmas past it is." He was glad to see James, more than he necessarily wanted to admit. As infuriating as the man could be, and as much baggage as there was between them (nearly as much as there was with Helen), he had been one of John's dearest friends and his death had pained him greatly. James Watson was a brilliant man, and more importantly a good one, and his death had been a great loss.

"You never miss anything," he assured James. "You did die...and nearly two years ago." He looked around. "You were right, you know, as much as it pains me to say so. It was too easy...there was so much more going on than any of us realised." And because they hadn't realised, he had lost his daughter and the tenuous hold he had gained on his sanity.

"As for where we are," he addressed his friend's question, "I very much doubt you would believe me if I told you." The knights finally chose to make an appearance, and John took both PDA's, before stepping back. "Thank you, gentlemen, but I believe we can see ourselves out." Taking hold of James's arm, he teleported them to the steps outside the library. "Now," he said, handing James one of the PDAs, "in answer to your question, though I maintain you won't believe me, we are in a city called Colligo." He smirked. "And I trust your passion for the classic languages will clue you in as to the humour of our hosts."

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[info]holmesianmodel
2010-12-11 08:36 pm UTC (link)
"Undoubtedly," James agreed. "I've had my fill of being older, thank you. I wasn't quite this handsome, after all." Of course he said that just to be a pain in the ass. He was just happy to be alive, even if he was here with John. Not that it was a bad thing, it meant that he could keep an eye on him. They'd put that all behind them, but still he'd keep an eye out, just in case. "I'm not going to have to put on a silly robe and a big wreath on my head, am I? I hardly look like St. Nick." Well maybe if you tilted your head to the side.

Good to know that he hadn't been dreaming that he died. "Two years? And now this?" That was definitely interesting. What would just decide to pick a person out of the ether and pluck them here, two years after death. Not to mention, who had that kind of power in the first place? "It feels like it just happened a moment ago," he confessed. In fact he could still feel the aching of his limbs.

For once, James decided not to look smug about being right. Well, not more than usual anyway. "Well if I was right, and it was two years ago, I've missed quite a lot. You should catch me up." Even if they weren't anywhere they were supposed to be. The knights caught him off guard, and he wondered what they were, but before he could go over to touch them, well John was grabbing him and teleporting them. He looked as confused as ever, taking his PDA. "Colligo? Hm. I suppose that would explain the knights back there."

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[info]exquisiterush
2010-12-13 10:27 pm UTC (link)
"No," John agreed with a laugh, "you certainly weren't quite so handsome." It was good, talking about this without the grief that had accompanied James's passing. Emotions were a point of difficulty for him, and it really was best that he avoid the more intense ones. At the suggestion of a robe and wreath, he laughed outright. "God no," he said. "You would look utterly ridiculous." Though the more he thought of it, the more he felt it might not be such a bad idea.

"That's because it was but a moment ago for you," he explained. "This place is rather unique in that regard. People are brought here from various points in time, and even other realities. "But then I expect you realised the power of this place from your physical state." After all, James was as young as he had appeared before his death, and his suit did not seem present.

"You've missed out on quite a bit," he agreed. "And it's a rather long story. I'll start with the immediate aftermath of the Source Blood." He took a moment to gather his thought. "The Cabal had...done something to Ashley. I don't know what it was, but it changed her. She stole the blood and took it to them...and they experimented on her with it. Her and some others. They made them into soldiers...completely controlled them...and made them attack the Sanctuaries. Tokyo was destroyed. Clara was killed in the UK Sanctuary...and then they attacked our Sanctuary. We managed to stop most of them, but..." He stopped, forcing himself to remain composed. "There was still Ashley and one of the other soldiers. Ashley regained control and...teleported herself and the other soldier into the EM shield." His tone was calm as he spoke, too calm for a man speaking of the death of his daughter, but he knew it would be dangerous to allow himself to dwell on his emotions regarding the subject. "Helen was devastated."

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[info]holmesianmodel
2010-12-14 01:10 am UTC (link)
If there was anyone who could make fun of his own death, it would be James. It had sucked sure, for all of them. Dying wasn't just passing away with no pain. It was awful. Now that he was back, he was okay with laughing about the whole thing. "I always get the damn Ghosts of Christmas mixed up. At least it's not the dark robe and the skeleton, now that would be bad." There was no way he was putting a wreath and a robe on, not for anything. "I think I'll pass."

"It all sounds rather remarkable. Someone has to have considerable power to do that," he said with a sage nod of his head. He was going to have to try and figure out what kind of power someone would need to do these sorts of things. For his own peace of mind. He glanced down at himself and then nodded, "It's amazing, not having to wear that blasted thing. It almost makes me feel like doing a jig... Almost." Lord knew that if he tried, John would video tape it on put it on those youtubes thing.

No one would want to see that.

James listened to everything John had to say, taking it all in. Too bad there wasn't that thing where people looked down on you from heaven, or whatever nonsense and kept track of things. It was easier than having to have someone fill him in. He hadn't expected to hear that about Ashley, and he frowned. "That's awful, I can't imagine. I'm sorry you all had to go through that alone. I'm so sorry, John." He didn't really know what to say, what could you say to someone that had lost their child? He had no idea.

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[info]exquisiterush
2010-12-14 07:20 am UTC (link)
There was something strange about discussing his friend's death while the man was obviously alive, but with recent events he was becoming used to people being alive who he had believed were gone. Even without the peculiarities of this place, Adam's reappearance was fresh enough in his mind that it was not too difficult to accept James as alive and well. "Well, Dickens was hardly the most interesting of writers," he said. "Now, if we were talking about Conan Doyle, I have no doubt you would have no difficulty following along." He enjoyed teasing his friend on the subject, and he sincerely hoped he would be able to witness James meeting with Sherlock Holmes if the man was still in the city. The detective had certainly proved interesting when John had spoken with him, and he could only assume a discussion between the man and James would be even more so.

"It is beyond anything I can imagine," John admitted. "Of all the things we've encountered...there is nothing I can think of that is capable of all this." He looked around. "It is as if this place is a self-contained world. To bring people here...and to keep them...it is beyond anything I can think of. When I try to teleport out of the city I just end up back in that library, and nobody has ever managed to leave of their own accord that I have ever seen. When I was sent back, it was the power of this place and no work of my own." He smiled over at James as the topic turned to the absence of his suit and he nodded. "It is truly amazing, my friend. And now that you've said that, you'll have to do that jig sometime. I've know doubt Helen would love to see it. I know I would."

It was strange. People had offered their condolences after Ashley died, but it somehow meant more coming from James. Perhaps it was because most of the others, excepting Helen, hadn't cared that Ashley was his daughter too or that he felt her loss as keenly as her mother did. James understood though, the way he always understood. "She's alive here," he said, "or she was the last time I was here. It's hard to say if she's still around." He paused and looked down. "I...killed them. The Cabal. I killed all of them. I thought it would make up for it somehow...for losing her." He looked back up at James. "I meant what I said. The things I did in Whitechapel...that wasn't me...those actions weren't mine. But this...I wanted them to die. I enjoyed it. And even though they were evil...worse than I ever was...it's a far greater stain on my soul."

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[info]holmesianmodel
2010-12-14 09:42 am UTC (link)
It was definitely a bit odd to be thinking, and talking about one's own death. Though if you couldn't laugh over that, what could you laugh at? He almost felt bad, worse even for the ones that got left behind. For James, it had hurt, sure but then there hadn't been anything. Next thing he knew, he was in Colligo. Everyone else was constantly losing people, they had to stay behind and deal with all that sadness. James rolled his eyes at the mention of Conan Doyle, and made a face. "I should have never agreed to that. Though I suppose I would rather be me then some idiot in a Dickens novel. And not one word about Scrooge." He gave John a pointed look.

He supposed that someone must have tried all of these things before, ways to get out, what happened when they did, the extent of this place's power. That sort of thing. But still, he would have to check it out himself. He wasn't one to take someone's word for it. "Hm, that's very interesting. Clearly something is physically keeping us here, but I suppose we should figure out what it is. It doesn't seem like it's only a force field, right? And clearly it interferes with teleportation. That could be a number of things." Yes, tests were in order. "I am not doing a jig." That was final. "Not for anyone."

James really and honestly did mean it, when he said how sorry he was. He couldn't imagine having children. Or what it would be like if one of them died. He'd heard that it was the most painful thing a person could go through emotionally. He wouldn't wish that on his worst enemy. "She is? Well, that's good. I'm glad that I'm not the only one back from the dead." Maybe being here wasn't so bad if it meant that people were alive again. When John said that he killed the Cabal, James wasn't quite sure what to say. Slowly he nodded his head. "Well I.. I'm not sure I can blame you. But what do you mean, those actions weren't your own?"

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[info]exquisiterush
2010-12-14 07:00 pm UTC (link)
"I would never compare you with Scrooge, old boy," John said with a small smile, falling easily back into they old banter in which they often engaged. It was comfortably familiar. "There is not a less apt comparison in all the world. Though I will agree that you should never have consented to being the model of Arthur's detective. For someone so clever, you really can be terribly dense at times. The picture he painted of the cold and analytical genius hardly suited you. And why you had to toss my name into the mix, I'll never fathom. I am as far from the dear doctor as one could possibly get." Except not so far as he claimed. His temperament had been more like the fictional doctor's before his ability had changed him. And he had certainly been a devoted friend and sounding board to James.

"I can teleport anywhere in the city," he continued his explanation, "just not out of it. And honestly, I'm in no hurry to leave. Helen is here and safe, Ashley too. And you're alive as well. Even Nikola is more tolerable in this place. Perhaps it's selfish of me to say so, but I believe I'll take my time in sorting this out." He didn't want to go back to a place where Helen could very well die and James and his daughter were already dead and gone. If that made him a bad person, he hardly cared to be good. And why should he? Let them have a bit of peace in their long lives. There was no harm in it.

Losing Ashley had been worse than he'd ever imagined, even having as little time to know her as he had...or perhaps because of that fact. Even now, he couldn't bring himself to truly regret killing the Cabal, though he could acknowledge that it had been the wrong choice. If he could change things, he would do it again and again and again and never alter his choice. Then came the question he had expected and dreaded in equal measure. There was every chance that James wouldn't believe him, and he desperately wanted to restore his friend's faith in him. "After I killed the Cabal, the bloodlust that Nikola's efforts," he wouldn't say torture, "quelled returned. I...lost control. Went back to certain old habits. I wanted Helen to kill me, so I...provoked it. Unfortunately, she saw fit to resuscitate me. When she restarted my heart, there was a power surge and...something got out."

He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "An abnormal...a sort of energy being. It was violent, merciless, seeking only destruction. Sound familiar, my dear Watson?" He closed his eyes. "It had moved from me to the Sanctuary's electrical systems...and that's when we realised that it had been inside me all along. It had latched on, at some point, when I was teleporting. I apparently made a suitable host environment, since my body converts to energy when I teleport. I would have liked nothing more to be rid of the thing, but as long as it was outside of me, it was a greater threat...I took it back and left so as not to be a threat to Helen." He sighed. "I know this is difficult to believe," he said, "and that it sounds like the worst sort of excuse, but I am telling you the truth. You know me, James. You know I was never like that before my abnormality. You must believe me. What I did...it wasn't me. But until there is a way to remove this...parasite, I can never be free of the things I've done."

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[info]holmesianmodel
2010-12-14 11:55 pm UTC (link)
"Well you should have seen him, he was so happy with the idea, and he was running all these things by me, I just couldn't tell him no." The guy had all but given James puppy dog eyes, not to mention he had been writing a bunch of stuff without even asking at first. Then when he had enough things written, he had presented it to James and asked very nicely. "I don't know where he got all that, I guess he just thought it would sell more copies. And he was right though, I mean let's face it, a book about actual me wouldn't sell for a dime." He shrugged a little, "It was the first name I could think of. It just sort of came out. Might as well, right?" Too bad there wasn't such thing as likeness rights, or James would be a millionaire. Or well he should have been anyway. Eventually James had decided not to make Conan Doyle change it, even if he knew that he would never say such things as Sherlock Holmes often said or even the things that Watson said in the books.

James hm'd slightly, thinking to himself as he usually did. Yeah, he was going to have to test some theories out for himself, see what happened. "I certainly don't want to go back to being dead, so I'm just fine with staying here as long as possible. Even if I hear that odd things happen. Zombies, I heard? I've always wanted to see the walking dead. But you're right, I'm not in any rush to figure this all out either. I just don't think I'll be able to help myself." Definitely not, and he was sure that Nikola was doing god knew what on his own. "When you left here before, the first time and went back .. home, as it were, did anyone wonder where you were? Like you had been missing? Well like everyone had been missing?"

Maybe James shouldn't have been surprised that after killing the Cabal, that those desires had returned. It was probably natural. All he could do was frown at the thought. Though he wasn't expecting to hear that something had shot out of his chest. "Like a giant electric parasite?" was all he could say for the moment. And then John called it a parasite himself, and he just gave a little bit of a sigh. "It does sound a bit far fetched, John. Especially that you took it back and didn't try to destroy the thing. Maybe by now, you secretly like it." Oh he didn't know. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that, I don't know. I'll believe you. But you have to find a way to get that thing out of you and gotten rid of properly."

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