bakerstreet | I let her steal into my melancholy heart

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[meme] shipping

I let her steal into my melancholy heart

Darkness Loves Light

No matter how the darkness looms around you - how much you've become the darkness - there's one bright spot in your life - a person who makes everything worthwhile.

It doesn't really matter how they came to you. What does is that they stay. Whether you admit it or not, you seek comfort from them...and, perhaps, them from you, if you're in the same situation.

So, whether you push them away, treat them right, or go so far as to worship them and put them on a pedestal, you don't want them to go now. You crave being with them, or at least being in their presence. Don't ruin this for yourself. After all, what would you do without your little ray of light? You'll do anything to keep them happy and loved. Anything.

Respond to the meme with your character, canon, preferences, and, if you'd like, what position you're character will be in.
Respond to others.

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At first Tyrion thought that this would be just another visit like he had done countless ones during his life. Sure there had been many visits he had actually enjoyed for one reason or the other, but most of the times he was always back, when it was time to go back to King's Landing.

Now he was staying with his father, his sister and a small attendance at a castle of one of his father's bannerman. Much to his surprise the young princess liked to spend time with him and it dawned on Tyrion that if he would stay longer, she would probably develop some feelings for him. He was aware how often she smiled at him.

The young princess was truly beautiful and if she would ever decide to make any advances he wouldn't stop her. It was new to him that a high-born princess was seeing in him the man he was and not just the drawf son of Tywin Lannister.

To sneak away with Princess Veronica was the joy of this stay at the castle of her family. There was no real need for him for being present at most of the meetings, so he had plenty of time.

Outside it was a beautiful spring day. He went next to Veronica, who was in a cheerful mood. They reached an apple tree with a picnic underneath.

"It's a good way to spend this wonderful day. No one will hear our conversation so we don't have to think about what we can say."
Tyrion was certain that they would only talk about harmless topics but being alone with someone you like is always different.

"It's not okay." She gave him a look, feeling bad about it already. There was so little downtime and it wasn't right for Jasmine to waste his. Because that was how she always felt about instances like this, that she was wasting Poe's time with her problems when he could be off relaxing or doing something for everyone else like the brilliant hero that he was. She didn't fight him though, letting him draw her outside and away from the temptation of doing the wrong thing.

The night was quiet and as they walked across the sand she tried to soak it in, to let the quiet wrap around her and muffle those destructive thoughts that never seemed to fully disappear. Would they ever? She didn't know if she could fight this internal war for the rest of her life.

"They're not wrong you know," she remarked after they had sat down, eyes drifting over the dark water. "My being here is dangerous for you all. I'm sure the First Order has only increased the bounty on my head." It was inevitable really. They hadn't wasted any time putting one on her after she switched sides and over time more and more of her contacts started ignoring her calls because they didn't want that heat turning to them. She couldn't blame them but it still stung a little. "And eventually if it's not someone coming after me, it'll be someone coming after you." Like she had.

It was no secret to anyone with eyes that the princess liked him very much, and probably much more than her brother wanted. Veronica was, after all, his only sister and lovely enough to have been something very valuable indeed.

But more than courtiers who talked at her rather than to her, more than people who raked their eyes over her body but never bothered to listen to her, she liked Tyrion. Tyrion who never failed to see her as who she was, who earned every smile from her with just his presence. Neither of them needed to be at the meetings anyways and though it rankled to think that no one wanted his input, she still couldn't help the joy at the thought that they could spend more time together. She smiles at him again,

"So we are to say anything that comes to mind, then?"

Though the things they talked about were hardly ever scandalous to begin with. All Veronica wanted to do was to ask him questions, about his life, about the things he liked, the wines he'd tried, the places he's seen. Her own life was, in comparison, a simple thing and she was, despite what she looked like, a person of simple desires who took her greatest pleasure in sunrises and sunsets, in the season's first rose and the sound of birds singing in the trees.

She laughs as she sits and then draws him down with her, settling herself beside him at what was just barely enough distance for this to still be respectable if anyone came by to see. But then again, no one ever really does. Even her own servants were stationed at the outside of the garden they were in, keeping watch. There's no one close enough so Veronica pours wine for him, offering it to him for a taste.

He shakes his head, dismissive. "First Order has a bounty on me, too. It doesn't matter."

Bounties aren't just for turncoats — they're also for pilots who do significant damage to their ships, take down tons of soldiers, and also manage to miraculously escape being held prisoner. The idea of that didn't bother him. The idea of more agents of the First Order coming after him didn't bother him, either. He didn't expect all of them to turn like Jasmine had, but he was sure that he'd be able to manage any trouble that came his way. Things always sort of just worked out for him. It all balanced out. That was a sort of mantra he'd been holding onto for years, and it rarely ever failed him.

"I saved you. I'm not just gonna ... I'm not saving you and then throwing you out on your own like that. That's not gonna happen. You're Resistance now. As long as you want to be here, this is where you belong. And if anyone's got a problem with that, they can go through me. Got it? Don't feel like you have to do anything. Just let me know, and I'll take care of it."

The way Poe viewed things, it really was that simple. He could solve all his problems by ~~blowing them up~~ pulling rank on lower officers and punishing them for talking trash. Maybe he couldn't make everyone instantly change their minds about Jasmine, but he was doing all that he could on his end of things.

Jasmine turned her head to look at him as he spoke, eyes taking in the way the moonlight illuminated his features. She wished she had Poe's confidence when it came to this. In other things she did but in this it was somehow easier to give in to doubt rather than hope. It likely didn't help that for a long while she didn't consider herself someone worth saving.

"I still don't know what I did to deserve that." she said quietly. "You were the first person to look at me like I meant something. Like I was worth something and not just a hired gun." Her hand between them reached for his, wanting the simple physical contact, and she looked back out at the water again. Poe had saved her, pulled her out of the darkness and brought light into her life. Hell, he continued to do so. She owed him her life, whether he knew it or not, and she couldn't say she was bothered by the thought of spending the rest of her days paying him back. Loyalty couldn't be bought after all, not true loyalty, and she could think of no one who deserved it more.

"Do you ever regret it?" Jasmine asked suddenly, looking back at him. There wasn't concern in her tone, just honest curiosity. "I imagine your life would be a little less complicated if I wasn't around."

"Everything only my ears should hear, Mylady." The ambiguous smile he put on came naturally, still he didn't wanted to turn the conversation into a certain direction. But it was hard for him to not drop a hint here and there, that he thought that she was interesting in more than one way.

"I'm flattered that you allow me to spend your precious time with you. Usually my only companions on journeys are the books in the library of the castle we stay in." On purpose he had left out the second place where he could usually be found.

When they sat down under the tree he noted that she invaded his personal space on purpose but he couldn't care less about personal space and etiquette at the very moment. If they wouldn't have been born into noble families no one would complain if they would sit next to each other like this.

It dawned on him, that it would be easy to exploit the situation and steal a kiss from her. But Tyrion remembered his manners. He should ask for her permission first or being sure that it was alright to surprise her with a kiss.

He accepted the goblet she was offering him. The wine tasted good, yet he had to guess from where it was. "That is a fine wine. Tastes a bit like a wine from Dorne. Correct me, if I am mistaken."

One of Poe's core beliefs is that everyone is worth something. Worth saving. There has to be some good in everyone, because the galaxy is a good place. Everything balances out. He takes her hand when she reaches for his, gaze also going out to the water.

He wanted to explain that, to say that the fact that she was here, that she was even trying to fight whatever darkness was in her was proof enough that she deserved the faith he'd placed in her, but she's asking that question before he can.

"No." His response comes without hesitance. "I don't. I don't — whatever other people think doesn't bother me. Doing the right thing isn't always the easy thing, but that doesn't mean it's not worth doing."

Everything she'd want to say to him would basically cover everything that comes to mind and his statement, his ambiguous smile has her smiling right back, unambiguous, bright and honest in her innocence. She doesn't think that perhaps he'd find her interesting, not when she was so caught in the moment of how interesting he was.

"I will have to endeavor to be as interesting as those books, then."

She was close enough that as she reaches up to brush her hair back from her face, her arm just brushes his. They could be closer, she thinks, though for now she makes no move. Her maids have, after all, told her that while there was nothing wrong with her disregard for personal space, there were some people who might not exactly appreciate it. Perhaps he's one of those people? Then again, she has held his hand before with no repercussions. She's still puzzling over that when he speaks up after that first taste of the wine.

A wine that she had simply lifted right from her brother's stock in the cellar.

"I've never tried it so I cannot say. May I?"

She reaches out, one hand resting lightly against his wrist to tilt the goblet to her own lips if he'll let her.

Edited 2018-04-11 00:02 (UTC)

[ok but hes the 'light'.]

For a city that sits in the middle of the desert, there's a perpetual sort of darkness that lingers around the City. There's no room for angels, so devils and demons and all manner of human shaped monsters fill up the emptiness left behind. It's no particular surprise to any of them when a bit of light spills over from another city, temporary and transient.

He's pretty and polite to the girls, for all that he's serious about finding whoever's leaving bodies lying around the streets of Old Town. Some crazy asshole craving his way through the working girls of Gotham and Bludhaven, who's made the mistake of trying his hand on Old Town girls. Gail lets him stay because none of them have had any luck tracking the freak down. Doesn't so much as give Miho to him as lets the woman go with him.

Miho is. Curious. Small and lithe and silent as a shadow, she tags along after the strange man. Cops don't go to Old Town, but this man isn't a cop. He's something much more interesting.

Weird interdimensional stuff isn't less strange than faking your death live on television, but it's definitely up there. Dick rolls with it, because it's what he does. He's lucky: he finds likeminded people interested in helping. He isn't Nightwing, here-- he doesn't have the gear-- but he's Dick Grayson and he's always got the skill set.

And he hates this Jack the Ripper wannabe hurting innocent women just trying to make a living.

He's not, strictly, sure of Miho's past, but that shouldn't matter. It's what you do with your present that makes a person. So they walk through the streets, and he thinks up what to do. "The last murder... it was only three says after the one before it. He's getting bolder." A pause. "Or she. But these kind of things are usually 'he's."

She likes that he talks to her, though it's a bit pointless. Miho doesn't speak, but she listens, sharp and attentive. Still some of the newer girls are like him sometimes (chatty and nervous because Old Town is about as safe as you can get in the City and nowhere is really safe), so she signs back.

Getting sloppy. Catch soon?

Dick knows enough of sign language to guess most of the words, but he doesn't have the confidence in his own clarity to sign back. So he just smiles, and speaks directly to her so she can read his lips. "Hopefully." He gives her a thumb's up. "Things like this always have a trigger. We just have to find what his is."

That actually pulls a smile out of her, eyes hooded and eyebrows raised. There's an air of predatory amusement around her. Can hear

But more importantly, a trigger. Miho perches lightly on the edge of the rooftop they've huddled on. She turns back to him and points to herself. Wouldn't that be an easy thing, if the trigger of this killer were the girls themselves.

"Oh! Sorry." He smiles and scratches the back of his head, embarrassed but only momentarily. Her suggestion, caught from the corner of his eye, distracts him from that. "No!" He holds up his hands. "That's too dangerous, especially when we don't know anything else about the target. The trigger could be something else. Someone says something mean on the subway, and that makes him want to murder a prostitute. I've seen stranger cases."

Dangerous, he says. Miho's smile sharpens, razor bright and brief. Balanced on her toes, it's a matter of momentum to lean over and press a kiss to his cheek then let herself fall. She's a tiny woman, fluttering grace and unsettling silence. Miho lands on the railing of the fire escape on the building across from him and stands with her head cocked slightly.

"I-" he should have seen that coming.

His smile isn't sharp or crooked, it's big and lights up his whole face with obvious excitement. A challenge. He can't resist those.

Dick's own grace isn't fluttering or small, but it is fluid. He has all the hallmarks of a performer, but without most of the extra, unnecessary flair. He won't sacrifice competency to look good, but he can almost always find a way to strike a balance between the two.

He lands next to her on light feet, barely making a sound. "Was that supposed to prove something?" That grin is still firmly in place.

She likes the way he moves, likes the smile he gives her. It's bright and lovely, not something that belongs in the shadows. It's rare that she finds someone as interesting as this, so she signs playing

But well, to be more on point. I'm dangerous.

"I never said you weren't," he concedes, though he didn't know quite how capable she was until just now. "My point is, we don't know how dangerous the murderer is. No one's invincible, not even pretty girls with nice moves."

He turns up the intensity in that smile.

"We should look at the latest crime scene. Do you think it's been cleaned up yet?"

She gives him a skeptical look before nodding. Still there. Cops don't come here. And the girls tended to avoid the latest hot spots, even the ones who went on the stroll particularly well armed. Miho lept from the fire escape railing, landing lightly in the alley below, turning a little to make sure she was being followed.

And she is. Given full range to show off, Dick likes an audience. He bounces from the railing to the escape, from that to a nearby light pole, down to a fence, and then the ground, all the way light-footed and easy.

He isn't out of breath when he lands next to Miho. If anything, he's invigorated.

"We can get more information on the perp there. His methods and technique. Then we make a plan." So he jostles for control of this mission. He doubts Miho has his experience, but he hopes she's open to learning.

Showoff, but there's blatant appreciation in Miho's expression. He won't have to fight for control here, anyway. Miho is more attack dog than investigator and now she acts more as a guide and go between.

She leads him towards the spot of the last murder, passing a few girls here and there. They don't recognize Dick, but Miho is well known and that's signal enough to respond to any questions Dick might have. There's a handful of cars as well. The killings haven't affected any of the clientele and business is business. The location of the most recent killing is in one of Old Town's many side streets, a little more secluded than the normal spots the girls preferred, if they weren't taking a date to one of the hotels.

It's a sad little scene. No rain recently to wash away the blood, though the body is long gone. Somebody had broken Gail's orders to stay well clear of the area, a bouquet of flowers left at the very edge of the side road.

Dick sees the flowers and frowns. "You know these girls, right? Do you have a way of telling if the flowers were left by a prostitute or the murderer? They like to leave calling cards, return to the scene..."

But enough about that. Dick steps inside the bloody, dirty room and begins observing. "She was in bed when it happened, not surprising. Probably posing as a John-- is that the correct term? Well, he clearly began stabbing her on the bed. She managed to escape before she bled out, though; he can't be very strong, or isn't securing them. He caught her and cut a major artery..."

Miho balances lightly on her toes, studying the flowers. It was a large bouquet, not the sort one of the girls... Ah.

Giving the bouquet a hard kick into the room, Miho leapt over it, grabbing Dick around the waist to drag him over to the other side of the bed, dragging the bloodied mattress with them. She was strong for her size and the momentum worked in her favor. The shrapnel bomb was more noise and mess than anything. From under the mattress, Miho signs against Dick's chest: from murderer.

Dick swears (a light one, dangit) as the shrapnel bomb destroys a fair portion of the evidence in the room. He looks over at Miho-- "Are you alright? How did you know-?"

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I let her steal into my melancholy heart

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no worries! i can be too sometimes, it's all good

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dick grayson | dc (rebirth) | ota.

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not familiar with miho's canon so forgive any mistakes!

i'm gonna die

:))) ur fault.

i love it tho

same.......

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