bakerstreet | (no subject)

(no subject)

Dignity? Modesty? Propriety? Being able to keep secrets? These things are someone else's problem now that your character has been somehow given a super dose of truth serum. No matter what they do, they cannot help but tell the truth. They are compelled to do it and, by God, nothing's gonna stop. Nothing can stop them.

How to:

→ Post with your character . . . who has just been dosed with the ultimate magical truth serum, blurting out something they would otherwise lie about or keep secret. Maybe they are in the middle of spouting off an unpopular opinion, an embarrassing personal fact or admitting to a favorite sexual position or partner? Run wild the idea. Just . . .
→ DO NOT LEAVE YOUR COMMENT BLANK. It's your character and their secret.
→ Other characters reply with their reactions. Shenanigans ensue!
→ If confronted with a question, your character MUST answer all of them honestly.
→ Have fun and be excellent to each other.

Idea based on previous memes, notably this one; this incarnation reposted from here.

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Details, Sebastian. Where? How? Would you like me to scream anything fancy? [Still amused, very much so, but also interested. Someone might be taking notes...]

[Yes, they'd both do it - of course. And Jim tries to catch Sebastian's gaze, to hold it as he thinks, remembers.] Oh, yes... memorable night. And morning.

[The gaze is met with a steely stare down like Sebastian is silently challenging Jim to make something of that dirty, dirty little secret. There's a brief pull at his lips, a wry smile that's gone just as quick.]

Right now? Right here. Your tie around my fist while I tighten it. Choke you. I like trying to make you scream, almost as much as I like when you talk filthy, but I want to cut it off. Leave you gasping for air. Gasping for more. I want to leave bruises you'll feel for days. Marks you have to cover. Ones just at the edges of your clothes so I can see them when you move, know where I've been. Take you hard and fast so you can't walk right, leave you a fucking mess.

Oh, that would be a treat, wouldn't it? Please, Sebastian, fuck me harder, make me come. And a hand in my tie means I would get to face you, even? How very... considerate.

[Jim is rather fond of those blue eyes, of the promise and the challenge they hold. Daring Jim - oh really? Dangerous.] One more secret and we will, right here, right now. Desk, chair, wall - I'd even let you choose. But it has to be a good one, a good secret - something better, something even more personal. Something you will never-ever repeat again, never tell anyone else, something that will just stay between you and me. [Just like their secret - should Sebastian decide to accept Jim's offer, of course. And yes, Jim knows that the truth serum is still working and that he could simply ask for the information - but that wouldn't be the same. Still worth it, Seb?]

Edited 2013-01-30 23:06 (UTC)

[Even if he's teasing Sebastian, the words seem to have an effect as the sniper- swallows thickly, lips part just slightly to drags a slow, deep breath in. Yeah. Just like that, Jim.] Actually the easiest way to asphyxiate a person with a tie is from behind, more pressure on the-... yeah.

[It's almost a stall because Jim would already know that but his brain is running through what he could possibly offer Jim, what could possibly fit the requirements. What Jim doesn't already know. What Sebastian would be willing to share.] ... ... About what? [Give him some direction here, boss. What could satisfy the great Moriarty?]

[The smirk is still there, but his voice is low, the unnerving sing-sung tone gone.] Is that your way of asking me to bend over?

[About what? Oh, this little question is doing it for him, Sebastian's willingness to give in, to please, to spill his secrets and tell Jim, and the fine fabric of Jim's suit pants does little to conceal how much he's enjoying this. What he wants, though? Is what Sebastian is not willing to share, something from the very core of Sebastian Moran, something that will hurt a little to get out. There's admiration hiding in the darkness of Jim's eyes - and need, longing.] About you. About me. The last thing you would want me to know.

Edited 2013-01-31 09:35 (UTC)

... yes. [Curse his inability to use the usual verbal foreplay in the face of direct questions]

[And don't think he hasn't noticed your interest, Jim- he wants to do something about that but Tiger can't play without sharing something first, can he? Something about Jim, something about him. There's an uncomfortable tightness in Sebastian's chest that sticks in his throat for a moment. Admitting this meant confessing things he doesn't even really want to admit to himself.] I need you. [The way he grits that out you'd think he's grinding broken glass between his teeth.] Really. Need. You've done things to me I'd rip a man's throat out with my bare hands for even thinking and god knows I fucking hate you because you are the singularly most infuriating, inconsiderate bastard I have ever met but, fuck me, I'd be a liar if I said I didn't like it. Want you to keep doing it. To keep pushing. If the job doesn't kill me, I hope you do. Slowly. Intimately. Because if you go first-

[Discomfort, written across every muscle.] There's no replacement.

[Sebastian doesn't like admitting need like this but Jim's the only person who can slate his thirst, give him everything he ~~needs~~wants, satisfy him completely in every regard. For fucks sake, he talked his way into Sebastian- fucking straight Sebastian Moran's, fucking I-can-get-whores-not-to-charge Basher Moran's pants and now even prostitutes pale in comparison.

This is a man who prizes himself on complete independence, but that's not quite true anymore. What's left for a man given everything when that's taken away? His entire world has shifted in Jim's employ; working for anyone else would be a joke. No, people like Sebastian and Jim are wild fires, all passion and indiscriminate destruction, feeding each other and feeding off each other. Anyone else would just be consumed, burned alive and a fire without fuel can only burn itself out.]

Yes? Mhm, have you come to a decision, then? [Desk, chair, wall.] Or would you prefer we'd move this, to the bedroom maybe? Or since you mentioned getting off in the shower, how about the bathroom? Me against the tiles... Tell me. [But this time Jim's words are less of a teasing - they are holding an unspoken promise: tell me and we might do it. This is your chance, Tiger. Rightfully earned, because admitting that can't have been easy.

Sweet words, confessions of love - and Jim would have reconsidered and ended this, appalled and annoyed and... disappointed. This is better, much better than emotions could ever be - more carnal and gritty and dirty, the essence of 'them', their common ground.]

If the job doesn't kill you, hm? Slowly and intimately. [There might be the barest hint of a shiver.] Be sure to keep those words in mind, Softpaws [- in case you should ever like a repeat. He swallows, licks his lips, the focus of his dark eyes still resting on Sebastian's face. Time to play, kitty.]

Edited 2013-01-31 20:13 (UTC)

[It wasn't easy to admit that, but the results, Sebastian thinks, will be well worth the bruised and bloodied ego. At least until Jim brings it up later when he's not having trouble keeping his mind off fucking his boss.] Yessir.

[Like he could forget those words. He had thought about how Jim might do it. He'd gotten himself off in the shower thinking about it, too. The way Jim would kill him, slow and precise and intimate, keeping him alive as long as possible. All the time in the world to think about dying, think about Jim then. And those void-like eyes.

Sebastian moves forward then, hand coming out to grip Jim by his tie and drag him into a kiss whether or not he has permission. He earned this, he earned pulling that tie tight as he crushes his lips against Jim's, presses his tongue to the criminal's lips to demand them to part.

Desk or shower? What are the chances he can push his luck and get both?]

[For Jim, this is more about power, about prying into the very core of Sebastian and messing around with parts of Sebastian's self that the other would usually keep guarded and protected. You are mine.

The corner of Jim's mouth twitches at the 'Yessir' and there's almost something like appreciation on his face. Pupils dilated, his eyes are dark as the mouth of a gun, two guns pointed at Sebastian, the deadly weight of Jim's gaze. He could kill you, Sebastian - he could blow up the whole world, burn it, end future, past, and present.

Kissing. The one thing where Sebastian might actually be the better, the more practiced attacker, because (normally) Jim doesn't care about the gesture and never liked it an awful lot. He can't stand the smell of people, the scent of their breaths, the thought of their spit and tongues and teeth - it's revolting. Sebastian is different, though. After-shave and gun oil, cold smoke and kerosene, sweat and blood and pain. On the best days, Jim can taste his own expensive cognac on his breath, can scent the faint trace of gunshots fired in the cold of the night clinging to the fabric of the sniper's clothes. His lips part - not at the first touch of tongue, but soon enough, granting entrance and meeting Sebastian's tongue with his own.

Swallowing thickly, feeling the restriction, feeling the fine fabric of his 250$ tie pressing into the skin of his throat, Jim hums, a low rumble in the depths of his chest. He likes this - but he also likes the thought of the shower. So if you play well, kitty? Jim might actually play along.]

Edited 2013-02-01 12:01 (UTC)

[It's that gaze that sets Sebastian off, keeps him crawling back for more. As a man was addicted to danger, to chasing the next big high, to pursuing the edge of near-death until something manages to drag him over, everything he wanted was right there in that bullet hole gaze. Jim could burn the whole world, and Sebastian would offer him the matches.

Kissing was usually too intimate and gave the wrong impression with one night stands and quick fucks, but with Jim... With Jim it registers as another means of domination, of force and struggle and violence and power. Never soft and tender, never gentle, sometimes too much teeth and blood gets drawn between them. This time in no different, aggressive and claiming, tongue pressing against the one offered. Sebastian's not going to easily risk his momentary advantage, fingers sliding up the tie to rest at the knot only to pull the fabric tighter around Jim's throat, starting to restrict his air. First one who breaks it off is the first defeat of the game, isn't it? And you can bet Sebastian will play dirty.

Already the space between them is closing as the sniper draws in close, trying to force Jim back for the step forward he takes. The need to get Jim caught, pressed between him and something hard is near overwhelming. Desk first, play his cards right, finish up in the shower.]

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(no subject)

Jim says 'worth it'?

Oh! Good one, Jim.

:) Sounds a bit like L'oreal, though. 'Cos I'm worth it ;]

Haha! And that's how Sebastian gets that fantastic hair flop.

LOL omg yes xD And finally the explanation for Jim's immaculate hair style.

Consulting Criminal fantastic hair duo!

Hahahaha, omg <333

Causing crimes and looking super!

That will be the new inoffical slogan! Come to the dark side, we have awesome hair.

Well I'm sold! (also, how did I forget this thread :|)