Consulting criminal. Chaos-creator.
Mostly bored with silly humans, so do try to be entertaining.
[NSFW at times, triggers will be tagged, will RP with anyone at any rating, just drop me an ask.]
[Click here for info and threads.]
((My girlfriend got me/Jim a Claddagh ring and matching earrings. Jim preened at the crown. We are pleased.
Jim would like to say hi to his loves and says that Sebastian and Jack have fresh hearts in boxes at their bedside, courtesy of people who pissed him off on Valentine’s~ Also Tyson gets a bushel of apples and a new pair of shoes.
And of course Self gets a charm for the shop- which allows blood samples taken at a distance. Hopefully it will be useful.))
There are times when racing about London like a fool has its benefits. He watches quietly as a great mind works, hushing his sniper as he soaks in every detail, the quirk of the brow, the curve of lips. It betrays his affection, and he in turn only spurs the other on. It’s a secret romance, and he prays that neither of them will ever acknowledge it.
It’s a long night of terrible dreams, and a genius mind is capable of creating the worst horrors, and so it inflicts itself on its host and captor. Only one pair of arms is strong enough to hold him together when he’s falling apart, only one is allowed.
It was a charade, he told himself as they ate and drank and laughed, peaceably side by side in a way he had never allowed of himself before. It was a game, a ruse, a joke, and yet words which would only be spoken years later, rang true. ‘However hard you try, it’s always a self-portrait.’
Sometimes, when the world was devastatingly dull, there was one that he wasn’t blind to, one who outshone everyone else in every aspect, understood him from the bones out and from the eyes in. There was naught he placed above them, and he would freely admit it, which was a first in very many ways.
It’s funny how he never took notice for so long, assumed that they were someone else’s and didn’t bother interrupting, but nevertheless they caught his eye, and eventually caught his lips. He’ll always think of it that way, even though he was the one to instigate the kiss.
It was all so simple, to get caught up in the act, to prove the world wrong, and somehow it skipped his mind that anyone would bother to care. A bullet in his mouth and the deed was done, and his hollow eyes would never see the broken soul he left behind.
[[returning things is all, dearling. And ooooooh lovely good to hear~ also um. take care?]]
[[I noticed. We tried not to see but are glad?
Hehe, there’s so much sass in my head, I can’t even.
I’ll try. My heart decided it was a Time Lord. taptaptaptap.]
[[missed you too m’darlin~ Sunshine would send his if he were conscious, I’m sure ♥ also ooooooooooh we’re intrigued]]
[[I hope he’s okay and even more than that I hope you’re doing well!
Intrigue is good. I’ve found a muse that turns my Cct into a sassypants and it’s hilarious and wonderful (and he gets laid).
Also a couple of my muses have figured out how to fiddle with my heartbeat patterns and I’m not sure if I’m totally comfortable with it but it’s quite interesting!]
[[/joins in
hullo you! I’ve missed ya~
Cct sends his love + also says he may have someone to introduce Self to soon]]
Sunshine is probably about as proud of his Mirror Self as Self is of his achievement- if there is one thing he can take genuine pleasure in, it is the work done by himself.
A pleased hum is his response as he weighs words, judging which ones he’ll let drip past the silence. “I’ve a hybrid or two that could use. Conversation.” He settles on eventually. There’s an unspoken invitation in the sentence, just as there always is when he discusses work: Self is welcome wherever he is.
A light chuckle, like a belated thought dropped into actualization.
“I’d love to watch,” he murmurs with a smile. There is always so much to learn from himself, and it’s a pleasing thing, the wealth of knowledge that the two of them tackle together, brains parallel processing their reality so they can coax it into any shape they like.
No matter what else may happen to his personality, there is one thing about Sunshine that is a constant: he sows chaos anywhere he goes. It’s the only way to keep him entertained, after all. Watching Self remember the poisons brings them back to Sunshine’s mind, and he ghosts a bit closer, watching the mice in Cct’s hands with great fascination.
While he watches, he can’t help but pull up one of his augmentation charms, allowing himself to move at much greater speeds than normal. The only way it manifests is in the speed with which he flickers through a few new gestures he’s coded in, attempting to push the bots to their limits.
“Elegant indeed.” Sunshine murmurs, disengaging them from his hand in order to look around the lab again, gaze in the middle distance- this was a useful gift indeed, and he was looking forward to seeing what situations it can be used in.
To say that Cct was proud of his miniature underlings was an understatement, and he let an escort swarm whir to the doorway, a little glistening claw opening the door once they were given the access code, and flowing invisibly into the next room. They reformed as a little ball on the desk, where a machine was at work tailoring Sunshine’s glove.
“It should be tested and ready by the time the week is out.” He smiled. “Got any idea what you’ll be doing with it first?”
#[A warning would be sufficient] #[Mycroft understands his p o s i t i o n if we are displeased] #[also I apologize if Pup’s previous… entanglement pops by for a visit]
#A warning it is #What is ours should NOT be touched. #And fear not- we are m o r e than capable of dealing with his… #ilk.
#Shall we #/reclaim/ #what’s ours?#[[welp #so much for lurking until I could breathe may as well start in on another drabble he’s not #allowing silence]]
Easy enough to access the shared folders, with the help of Sunshine’s latest augmentations to himself. The code is read, Sunshine in silence while he scans and absorbs information, experimenting here and there while he goes to get a feel for the programming.
The grin gets Sunshine’s attention, and the rose coaxes a delighted laugh from him. He accepts it with a flourish, running a finger over one of the petals in appreciation.
Three seconds and he’s trying something out himself, collecting a cloud of nanobots for his own dallying, shaping it into the closest imitation of a building in flame that he can manage- though he’s good at most things he tries, unless he’s using equations to figure out angles and the like, Sunshine is hopeless with art.
He hums quietly, then laughs again from the sheer delight of the beauty to the design of the gift.
Cct recognizes it for what it his, grinning. A promise of more havoc, and suddenly he’s remembered the swarms that he’d warned Sunshine away from. He pushes another button and they come to him, the posion-laced bots staying out of his system while the relatively harmless ones create an invisible barrier against the venom. He skips over to a cage, letting out two little mice, holding one in each hand and observing them with a mock-serious face.
Within moments, the one resting on the swarm is dead, a few residual twitches the only evidence to the neurotoxin. Cct dumps the body in a vacuum bin and gestures the poison away, returning his attention to Self (not that it’s really ever left, but he can pretend).
“It goes without saying that you can use any poison you like,” he says with a small smile.
#Seeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelf #we have the best mirror yes we do #help I’m rolling around in all my feels
[Don’t worry so are we. Self is the best after all <3]
Speaking around his Self isn’t a chore, as for once in Sunshine’s life, he’s speaking the exact same language as his conversational partner. Sunshine takes the chart, scanning it briefly before he’s assisting in the facilitation of the transfer.
The gestures are mere millimetres off the ones he’d have designated himself, another testament to how well he and his other Self had chosen each other. He flexes the hand, trying out a gesture or two to get a feel for the machines.
“It’s most appreciated.” A pause, and then he’s flicking through the list, as quickly as he can, testing and pushing at the nanobots. “Wonderful work, dearest.”
Cct beams, because the only praise he covets is that from Self, and he’s glad the present will be well received.
“Gestures can be altered as needed, and even while in use.” He calls another sector of bots to him for demonstration. “Learning modes, intelligent bot-design with fully editable code to keep them in your boundary conditions.” He pulls up the referenced code on his computer, pushing it into the shared folders with Self. With a playful grin, he sweeps the nanobot cloud into shape, tiny gestures molding them just so~
And he hands over a (to anyone else startlingly) solid, crystal clear rose to his mirror.
Ooh. Sunshine’s eyes glue to the claws, to the blade, and yes, that is an appreciative, mildly covetous look in his eyes, though it’s banished in favour of simple appreciation. “Beautiful,” he replies, voice matching Cct’s own.
At the offer, the faint smile he wears broadens and he nods. “If you’d not mind, I would love to.”
“Wouldn’t invite if I minded,” he murmurs. Unnecessary words seem to both flow easier and end up withheld when Self is around.
Cct passes over the chart of gestures that he’s created before gently touching their palms together, the motion of their hands rotating together telling the nanobots to transfer over to the other man’s skin.
“A sleeve is in the making for you, of course. I’ll send you the design so you can set your own buttons.”
It’s good to be back in the lab that is so akin to and yet so different from his own, and Sunshine smiles in return, nodding to acknowledge the warning. He brushes the fingers of his hand quietly against the back of Cct’s, moving to glance quickly at the nanobots. His hands go back into his pockets, and in seconds he’s done his observation.
He rolls his neck, his shoulders, settles into his skin, and then waits for Self to communicate.
Cct slips on a partial sleeve for convenience, it has buttons that control each of the groups of nanobots, though the individual buttons are invisible, known only to the practiced user. As the first sequences are activated, a cloud of robots comes to sneak into Cct’s epidermis.
He turns his palm upwards to Sunshine. “Gesture control,” he murmurs, showing off the forming claws around his fingers, indistinguishable from his nails until Cct’s hand turns again, claws melding into a blade in the palm of his hand. “Care to try?”
