pyroprincess (pyroprincess) wrote in wariscoming, @ 2012-02-28 19:04:00 |
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Entry tags: | aurora moriarty, jim moriarty |
Who: Jim and Aurora
What: Father/daughter bonding, Moriarty style!
Where: Jim's house
When: Sunday evening, 26th February
Rating: Torture, fire, psychotic opinions...pretty standard for these two.
Status: Complete, probably.
Aurora was curious as to exactly what her daddy had planned. It wasn't that she didn't know what he did - she knew that he took a hands on approach to punishing people for their indiscretions, and she knew how he ran his business, but she'd never seen him in action. And on the comms he seemed to be implying that she soon would.
She rolled off her bed and stretched, then grabbed her handbag - still fully stocked with all her arson equipment - and then opened her door to head downstairs. She wondered idly did he even know she was in the house? She'd acquired a key the first night she'd arrived, as neither he nor her mother had bothered to give her one, and when she'd come in earlier both of them were out.
_______
He knew she was in the house, that kind of thing went without saying for a man like Jim Moriarty. No there weren't cameras in the rooms but he'd seen her come in the door on one of those and waited and watched until she returned downstairs. Clever little thing he'd raised in the end. Him and his fairytale. And the girl had a penchant for fire which, while he didn't care for it himself did her no harm in terms of a life skill. It was too impersonal for him, though it had its uses. She burned things. Fire, in small doses could hurt beautifully. Exquisite. And it was that lesson he would teach his little girl.
He stepped out of the coded and locked room almost as soon as she'd come down the stairs knowing exactly when and knowing she'd have her arson equipment with her. Older she may be but she still had a ways to go, and if he could help her while she was here why shouldn't she. Time was nothing to him anyway, chaos theory, stepping on butterflies. It didn't matter. One day it would be him and it would be Sherlock and there would be nothing else that mattered in all of the world besides it.
And the great detective would fall. That was just life as it was meant to be. So he'd tread on a few butterflies along the way. No harm in it.
“Aurora.” he finally spoke, having drifted off in contemplation for a moment or two. “Tell me first, what you know of me, of what I do? Tell me what I told you, and don't lie to me, it insults both of us, don't you think?”
_______
She stopped when she reached the bottom of the stairs, seeing her father exit one of his rooms. The rooms that, even in her own time, she was never allowed enter. Oh, she'd tried to crack the code once or twice, but never managed it. Standing silently, arms crossed, she watched him; he had that dreamy, manic look on his face that meant he was thinking, and he didn't like to be interrupted when he was like that. Which she respected; she didn't like it either.
"Daddy" she replied, smiling slightly. “What do I know of you? Well, I know you effectively run crime in this city, and several of the surrounding areas. But nobody really knows you're in charge, bar the boooring complex people" her voice took on a little of his characteristic drawl as she spoke “the local gangs and so on are oblivious. You take a very dim view of those who step out of line, and sometimes intervene yourself, and have a glorious surgical kit that you take out when you do; but I've never seen you use it. And I know that Mom helps you out with all of it. As for me, well, when someone needs to be taught a more monetary related lesson, I destroy their property. With flames and fire and all matter of beautiful ways of doing so.” Her eyes took on a distant look as she finished, and a smile played at the corner of her lips.
_______
"That's my girl" he told her, listening to her as she spoke of what she knew. Oh he'd told her a lot. Told her about what he did. But only to those who deserved his own manner of personal touch. He had snipers, people he sent usually to do the dirty work. Oh how he hated getting his hands dirty. But he did it when he needed to. And this, well this was a lesson. The guy was nothing, a local ganger that had gotten a little uppity and tried to get one up on Moriarty without even really knowing who he was. He'd tried to turn one of his snipers against him, make the guy take a shot on his boss and the sniper had played along. Right up until the moment Jim put a knife to the man's throat and told him not to play the game if he didn't know the rules.
Idiot.
But he'd told the man he was special too. A lesson. Her very first lesson in how to cause true pain and true hurt. How to rip out a psyche before the flames took the body. Slow, simple. His daughter needed to learn control.
“You're going to learn a lot today Aurora, about me, about the kind of man I am.” he told her, his voice going flat as it usually did when he got to that kind of place in his mind. The kind where he was really only partially focused on the conversation. His mind already in that room, with that man. Destruction, slow controlled destruction. “And this is where we see just how like me you are, your mother says it, and I see it in her eyes, she worries. But it's not an easy kind of life, you'll be bored. Life will be so very very dull my dear. But when it's not, when something strikes you, when you find an interest. Oh it consumes, just like your flames. Let me teach you.”
He lead his daughter into the room, quickly pressing the code for access 3255.
The poor excuse for a human was ready, terrified already. The look in his eyes was beautiful. More so when Jim picked up a knife and twisted it in his hand. “I'm sorry Aurora, it's not going to be easy. I mean it was...with me. It was a slow process, butterflies, mice, cats, one time a horse. But that was just curiosity, like you with your little fires. But then you stop seeing them as people. They're just meat. Just leather and meat and slowly but surely you...see potential.”
The first cut was the deepest, or so the song playing in his mind told him. Just enough to show he meant business. Focused on the man he cut a sharp but perfectly thin line of skin from the man's shoulder before looking up at his daughter. “...So...tell me Aurora. How does fire compare to this. Do you have a lighter on you?”
_______
Aurora just listened as her father explained she was going to learn a lot about him. She'd figured as much; he was a lot less cautious around her in this time than he was in her own. But she was fine with that - she'd always wanted to know him properly, know what he was like when he got that look, the one he was wearing now. Raising an eyebrow when he said she'd be bored, she laughed slightly. She was often bored, most of the time in fact - except when she with Alex, or doing some 'work'. People were so normal, it was ridiculous, and without her flames and her love she'd have gone crazy long ago. Crazier, anyway.
Following him into the room she smiled slightly when she saw the man. As she'd hoped, he was going to let her watch him work. “I see the potential, daddy, I do.” The gangsters eyes widened when she called Jim daddy and she giggled. “Like father like daughter, you silly little man" she directed at him, and giggled again. There was tinge of hysteria to it, as she let the last part of the humanity Bats had restored in her earlier slip away.
She watched him strip the skin from his shoulder and smiled slightly. It wasn't as pretty as her flames, by any measure, but she liked the look of pain and desperation on the subjects face. Oh. She'd thought of him as a subject. She was catching on quicker than Jim had given her credit for. “Fire is prettier, but I do like the way he looks. Like a rabbit in the headlights, but one aware of what's about to happen. And of course I have a lighter" she grinned slightly ”a selection in fact.” Opening her handbag, she took out a zippo, a wind proofed variety (like a jet flame, almost), and several standard styles, though with varying nozzles, some of which were directional. Laying them out next to her fathers array of knives she turned to him and smirked. “Take your pick Daddy.”
_______
Now that, that was an intriguing reaction. She'd taken to it better than he'd thought. A couple of little things, a couple of little...decisions. And he'd seen them pass through her head. Oh she wasn't him. Not yet. Too much of her mother in her maybe. Or that boy. He didn't know what future him would do about the boy yet. Yes yes son of an antichrist and all that but it was a connection that he wasn't sure he'd want his family to have in the future.
Ties and all that, ties were bad. They led to feelings. But that was future Jim's problem, and he wasn't going to lose focus now. Not when he had so very much to teach his Aurora. “Take your favorite one. And just use the lightest touch of flame. Hold it against his skin and watch. It crackles and burns slower than your buildings do. But isn't that good. Look at it, watch it change. And look at his face while you do it. That agony, building slowly. Look how he tries to fight it, every second thinking 'maybe there's a rescue', or 'if he has to go out then he'll go out with dignity dammit'. And they NEVER DO.” he finally shouted, still up close to the guy but his eyes still utterly fixed on Aurora, and now holding the piece of skin from the shoulder blade.
“It's just leather. That's all, no different than those boots you're wearing. Just because this...thing had some semblance of intelligence people say he deserves more than a cow. But does he? Or is he just another creature that we can take what we want from. And do you know what he did? He tried to arrange my death. He tried to get to me, to me....that poor silly little boy. He tried to kill me. So now he suffers for it. Feel it Aurora. Not hate, not the wildness that comes with your flames. Just...disappointment in the futility of people like him. Burn him. Burn him till he begs you for mercy.”
_______
She almost jumped when Jim finished his rant with a shout, but suppressed it, smiling instead, fascinated by what he was saying. She had been spellbound the whole way through, hence her surprise when he had shouted. Could she really do what he was suggesting? Torture a man with her precious fire? She reckoned she could, and the certainty spread to her eyes as she gazed back at her precious daddy. Her look had a touch of glee to it, and more than a touch of the insanity he had passed to her. “I'll watch Daddy, both him and his skin.”
Turning, she surveyed the lighters as he continued. There was no favorite, per se; each had a specific use, a specific specialty for which it was utilised. So, thinking carefully, she ran a finger over each of them until she settled on one which was designed for lighting pipes, with a long barrel that could be positioned to maximise the flame. It should be perfect for the task ahead.
Aurora spun around, her choice in hand, as her daddy told her that the man had attempted to organise his death. Her face turned deadly, anger practically seeping out of her pores. But then Jim was telling her not to focus on the hate, but instead on the mans pointlessness, and she took a deep breath. “I'll try not to focus on the hate daddy, I will. But he tried to hurt you. No one is allowed to do that, no one.” But she was willing to try. She closed her eyes for a brief second and when they reopened the rage was gone, replaced by a clinical look that mimicked Jim's own. Running a finger over the wound he had caused, she smiled at the gangster, a dark smile, one that promised oh so much. “You tried to off someone far, far smarter than you, you silly little man. Didn't you realise how stupid that was? I dare say you do now...” Looking him up and down, she tried to decide where to burn. Eventually she settled on a spot just under his chin and grinned maliciously. “Here will do, I think.”
Clicking down the button on the lighter she held it just below the spot she'd chosen and watched in fascination as the mans eyes widened as first his stubble burned away, and then the flesh started to almost bubble. His face was a glorious picture of desperation and pain and he was biting down on his gag with enough force that it looked like his teeth were about to pop out. Looking up at Jim she beamed, practically glowed, looking more like him than she ever had before - and not stopping the flame.
“I see it Daddy. I see it! They're just fuel for the fire....”