bakerstreet | You're here, THERE'S NOOOOTHING I FEEEEEAR!

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[meme] shipping

You're here, THERE'S NOOOOTHING I FEEEEEAR!

titanic meme ;
▸ post your character ◂
▸ you're now on the titanic! good for you. sort of. ◂
▸ rng for the scene ◂
▸ tag around ♥ ◂
( minor trigger warnings for suicide in the first option! )

scene.

➊ you jump, i jump, getting caught halfway through your attempt at suicide isn't the best first impression, but being saved is a little bit of what you both need.
➋ you could almost pass for a gentleman, in gratitude, the poorer of the two has been invited to a snotty, upper class party. all money talk, but subtle gestures shared between you and your special someone.
➌ real party, the real fun happens in the deck, though, out of the dresses and chugging beer, arm wrestling and dancing in time with dancey music
➍ i'm flying, all that unresolved sexual tension has to result in something, doesn't it? a kiss seems almost inevitable.
➎ like one of your french girls, you all know it, nude drawing of your significant other. not as a porcelain doll, but just as beautiful and perfect as you see them as.
➏ to the stars, sneak away for a moment alone in neutral ground -- not wealthy or poor. just you two and the love you share.
➐ you remember what i told you about the life boats?, trouble in paradise. the titanic has hit an iceberg, and it will sink.
➑ i'll never let go, in the end, one of you pays the ultimate price and dies so the other might have a chance to live.
➒ your choice!, mix together or choose another scene from the movie or even make up your own! bask in the shippy misery

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[I couldn't not.]

Seth looked rather shocked to find himself wound up on the ship. Was he dreaming? Perhaps. The Nexus could do rather odd things to oneself and this---well, it was confusing to say the least. Looking down he realised he was still clutching onto his sketchpad and pencil bag. Was he sketching? Oh goodness was he under some influence? The explorer looked vaguely confused as he stepped back and nearly bumped into the man behind him.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry, old chap. I seem to be a little lost."

The artist hadn't clocked on that he'd just bumped into his angel's counterpart. It was then he noticed the man looked like him, or rather, Balthazar. But then the angel was him. Oh dear.

It could be a dream. It could be some sort of extremely unfortunate portal in time formed by two of the same angel being in close proximity. All Balthazar knows is he's done this before. He's done this twice before, and he didn't enjoy it the first two times--

No, that's a lie. The first time it was a lark, actually. Getting to play at being first mate on a ship that was famously luxurious for its time? That's right up his alley, and worth the exhaustion inherent in time travel. Having to go back to sink it was depressing as fuck.

But this, this makes limited sense, because he's not in his first mate uniform (haha, he still thinks I.P. Freely is pretty funny), nor in period appropriate street clothes, but rather in the sort of outfit he'd normally wear around the Nexus.

He blinks at Seth, registers that he is not in the company of his alternate self, and then swears under his breath, in Enochian. However this happened, they can figure that out later. Right now, he's going to have to focus on making sure the other angel's vessel doesn't die, because they don't have much time.

He slings an arm around Seth's shoulder and guides him hastily away from the walkway, toward a more shadowy area around the corner of the deck. "Well, this is a surprise, and not precisely a good one, if you'll forgive me for saying so."

At least if anyone sees them, they'll just assume they're twins.

"Oh, it's you, old boy! Or rather, my angel's counterpart. You're the other Balthazar who is Lucifer's one. You are betrothed to the King. I must say this is all rather awkward since I haven't the feintest idea how I came to be aboard this mighty vessel."

Seth was confused. Now being led away by the angel who happened to be sharing the same space as him. Once they got around the shadowy area the explorer shot Balthazar a rather panicked look. He shouldn't be here! A man shouldn't be snatched from his own world and thrust into another like this. It was all rather rude.

"Not a good one you say? How so? Us being here together in the same vicinity? Or are we stowaways? Goodness, I do not fancy a cold dip into this icy ocean that is for sure."

The Victorian's eyes averting towards the edge of the walkway, beyond that into the vastness of the North Sea. Seth knew those seas anywhere. The pitch of the ship and the way the wind cut into your bones with it's icy North Wind. He'd been on many a sea voyage and the North Sea was known for it's cruel tendencies for storms and an icy death if your ship wrecked.

It was only a matter of time before Ben decided to take a hands-on approach to learning about Earth history. Unfortunately, Ben never quite learned why this particular ship was famous before he decided to board the Titanic.

Getting a ticket for the Titanic wasn't hard, and neither was slipping onboard as a third-class passenger bound for New York. Anything remotely identifying was left back in the Nexus. Inborn powers aside, he's just another passenger, with no unusual supplies. And bringing a weapon as a civilian aboard a civilian ship would be beyond stupid.

[Solo, Ben. 30. Male. American citizen. Third-class. (His royal blood chafes a little at passing as someone lower-class, but it makes his job easier and fewer questions will be asked.)]

Ben looks ordinary enough in plainclothes, and it's easy enough to convince people to let him through with only a little use of the Force to help persuade them. He's been granted a little more freedom that way, though he doesn't press his luck too hard. The trip has been uneventful, between exploring the deck, taking sketches, and sampling early 20th-century drinks.

When he bumps into a familiar face while looking over a chart of the ship, he's genuinely shocked.

"Balthazar? You're here?"

Edited 2021-09-25 21:32 (UTC)

Just as well that Ben didn't bother with a weapon. You can't fight an iceberg.

Well...actually, you probably could, but the net result wouldn't be very different, in the end. Under better circumstances, Balthazar might pay money to watch someone turn an iceberg into sno-cones with a lightsaber, but that's probably not going to happen just now.

When he turns the corner and runs into Ben (not literally, though that could be arranged), he's wearing a period-appropriate first-mate's uniform, the hat perched at a jaunty angle on his head. However surprised the young man is to see him, Balthazar is at least as surprised to be addressed by name, and he pauses in his tracks to give Ben a piercing look.

"...how do you know me? You're not one of my brothers." He'd know. "Did Castiel send you?"

Let's be honest, if you could fight an iceberg Ben would try. He has a habit of picking fights well above his weight class.

Ben is probably in less danger than some other people on the ship - though his powers are not protection against hypothermia or drowning. He has no idea that there's danger at all. As far as he knows from the person who offered him this ticket for cheap in the Underbelly, the ship makes port in New York Harbor without incident.

He hasn't quite realized that there's a reason the ticket was so cheap.

There's a blank stare. "Who's Castiel? I know you from...well, I don't know how to explain. If you don't know who I am you probably aren't familiar with the Nexus. I'm just here on a trip."

Time is irrelevant to the devil, especially when he is poking around in some other God's realm. He knows the ship as he lands on the deck, not quite invisible but wielding powers so that others ignore his presence or somehow look the other way in a timely matter so he goes unnoticed. Lucifer isn't quite sure why he was drawn here but he definitely knows he needs to be here at this moment. It leaves the angel shaking the salt spray out of his wings as he wanders aimlessly trying to locate the reason for the pull to this ship so close to its demise.

[lmao well it's kinda canon and all. Would love to do anything with a Liam on the Noahtic! smut is a blessing.]

(( points at eyes points at you ))

((fufufu, want me to start?))

(( yes please!! if/when you've got the chance 👀 ))

[It's been an interesting day, to say the least. The Noahtic itself isn't half-bad, Sherlock has to admit, although it's definitely not his usual scene, and he can only stand to entertain women for so long. Thankfully it's now late at night and his hosts are off sleeping or gossiping or whatever it is women get up to in the evenings, Sherlock doesn't know or really care. His thoughts are elsewhere.

He's taken the opportunity to hang out alone on the ship's main deck, watching waves fall from its sides as he smokes against the rails. It's quiet out here, just the ship's engine rumbling, the waves, and Sherlock's perpetually racing thoughts, which keep turning back to the man he'd spoken to earlier.

The mathematics professor.

What a clever man he'd been - Sherlock hadn't been able to get his mind off him since. Everything about him had been striking, from the rich scarlet color of his eyes to the way he'd so easily read Sherlock, like an open book. Even right now Sherlock thinks about him, wishing he was here so that they could converse more...

Maybe he wouldn't be so damned bored, then.

Sighing, Sherlock flicks the tail end of his cigarette into the sea and turns, determined to seek out the other man. Certainly someone as interesting as him wouldn't just be sleeping already!

He'll try each of the bars first, using his hosts' name to get into first class, ignoring the glares from the other patrons. Should he find his professor, it will be absolutely worth it.]

[ He'd excused himself from the parlor a few hours after dinner, leaving Albert to his discussion with the others nobility. Their plan won't kick properly into effect until the following night, but Will's found himself indescribably bored of the banal conversation the older gentlemen have. This is why Albert is Lord Moriarty--Will may be good at playing patient and kind, but his patience runs out far more quickly than his brother's does.

He finds his way back to the staircase and he pauses where he'd stood earlier, head tilted back to examine the lovely curve again. It inevitably comes with the reminder of the mysterious man he'd met earlier, with the rakish grin and sharp eyes. It'd been a very long time since he's met anyone who piqued his interest, and Will takes a moment to allow himself to wallow in the disappointment of being unlikely to run across the other man again. ]

[It's the last place Sherlock looks, even arguing with himself about the stupidity of the idea the entire stroll back to the staircase. What kind of mathematics professor would be sentimental enough to come have another look at it, anyway?

But to Sherlock's absolute, ego-stroking delight, there he is. Sherlock whistles, softly enough not to startle the man, who yet again seems lost in
deep thought.]

Hey, mathematician. Fancy seeing you here.

[ It's a familiar voice, warm, and his lips curve into a smile even before he realizes it. Will shuts his eyes for a brief moment before he responds. ]

Shouldn't little boys be off to bed at this time of night?

Aw, don't be mean. You're at least half as bored as I am, aren't you.

[Sherlock ambles over, already drawn in by the interesting man's aura and unable to keep a grin off his face.]

Otherwise you'd definitely have something better to do than just look at pretty things in the night.

[ That makes him smile, chuckle, and he slants his gaze over to finally look at the other man. ]

There's always time to appreciate beauty.

[So Sherlock hadn't dreamed it up after all - the other man's eyes are a deep , beautiful red. Something about them feels both entrancing and predatory at the same time, and he can't look away for a beat. They're like pools Sherlock could fall in to for entirely too long.]

Sometimes the opposite's fun, too. You ever been below decks, mister noble professor?

[ He has, but that's not something he can say. Instead, Will turns fully, turns his back on the staircase.

He's dressed down a bit since they'd met earlier, his hair falling into his eyes instead of nearly pomaded off his forehead, his jacket neatly folded over his arm. The detective, though, looks as though he could have been just a few minutes away from that earlier moment, the only evidence of the hours in the way his shirt collar is not quite as crisp as it was, the heat and sweat causing it to fold more gently, softly down around his neck. ]

I haven't. It's been busy; I'm sure you understand.

Oh, yeah, I'm sure you have just tons of things to do on a pleasure craft.

[The hall they're in is much more dim than before, but Sherlock's eye is well-trained, and he catches all those little changes in the professor's attire. His own suit is as wrinkled as before, but Sherlock's hair is still pulled back and only slightly more curly than usual thanks to the humidity.]

Listen, unless you've got something better lined up, what say you indulge me in a round of cards.

Cards?

[ He glances at the clock--it's late, but not too much so. Will's certainly to be scolded when he gets back to their assigned rooms, but there won't be any real worry. They're the most dangerous people on the ship, after all. ]

That sounds pleasant enough. Lead on, then.

My room's below deck. Sure you can handle that? I can't guarantee I'll catch you if you get the vapors or something.

[For all his teasing Sherlock is pleased as punch. Finally, something interesting to do, and a challenge at that! He's sure the professor
can count cards, at the very least. Perhaps he knows some other tricks...?

With Sherlock leading the way, they descend into the ship. It's dark and loud, but Sherlock's quarters aren't too far, and while his room is small, it's nice enough. There's a bed, a card table and chairs, a bottle of wine and one of whiskey, and an ashtray that's already a quarter full.]

You a betting man, professor?

[ Will flags down a passing porter, sending him back to the Moriarty rooms with strict instructions to pass his coat and tie on and a coin for his trouble. He loosens his cufflinks, then, as they walk, sliping them into his pocket, and letting himself be just slightly more relaxed, slightly more rumpled as they head towards the belly of the ship.

He takes his companion's room in with a sweep of his eyes and settles himself in one of the chairs, crossing his legs at the knee. ]

That all depends. What are we betting?

[Sherlock notes the gestures but says nothing, simply admiring the man's prudence. Even though he says he hasn't been in the lower class areas, he still knows how to appear once there.

It takes some rummaging in a suitcase filled with more books and papers than clothes, but Sherlock finally digs out a well-worn pack of cards.]

I'm afraid money is out of the question, as I have none. Perhaps you've an idea?

[Sherlock takes the other seat and sits with his legs apart, hunching over the table. When he offers the man the pack of cards, their hands brush purely on accident. The warmth that abruptly builds between against his skin is startling, and Sherlock's breath catches for a second.]

Ah, my bad.

[ This has the potential to be very, very dangerous. Will's intrigued, fascinated, and just barely drunk enough to want to risk it all. ]

A request, then. Or a question answered.

[ He smiles, and goes on. ]

I must warn you, though--I cheat.

Oho? So do I. This is gonna be interestin'.

[That's just what Sherlock hoped to hear. He uncaps the bottle of whiskey and pours each of them a heavy slug, not bothering to ask the professor if he indulges or not - he can already tell.]

You go ahead and deal. After all, you're my guest.

[ Will takes the deck from Sherlock's hands, deftly shuffling them a few times. The cards slot into place between each other, and Will deals without looking away, his hands steady as flicks the cards out onto the table between them. ]

Generous.

[ He doesn't do any tricks while dealing; if necessary, that can happen later. ]

[Sherlock looks nonplussed at first, watching the deft way the professor's hands play the out cards, his experience and talent more than evident in each practiced move.

The sight makes Sherlock's heart race.

He takes out a cigarette and lights up, needing a distraction, then holds up his glass to his guest, offering a toast.]

Cheers, Professor. I suppose my first request of you when I win should be your name, heh.

A little mystery never hurt.

[ There's something about the detective that makes him want to push a little harder, makes Will want to test him, see if he really is as clever as he seems. If he's the intellectual equal that he appears to be. ]

[Oh, that's good. Sherlock's eyes seem to brighten as he hears his favorite word, and he can't help the wolfish grin that appears on his lips, showing off those slightly sharp cuspids of his. He leans in over the table, on his elbows, finally taking a look at his hand as he speaks.

So far Sherlock's been playing legit, simply counting cards, but it's starting to feel like it's time to show off. H wants to impress him, this brilliant, beautiful mystery of a man.]

Nothing like a good mystery, yeah? I know you get me. I'll raise, by the way.

[ Will does the same, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the edge of the cards. ]

We should use tokens. Or something to mark our bets--even if it doesn't have monetary value.

[Sherlock observes him carefully, in a way that shouldn't be easily detected. Even with all the tricks he knows and has mastered, he doesn't catch anything suspicious from the professor, an observation that he finds particularly exciting.

...He really must be extra careful. This may just be a challenging card game, but Sherlock senses something else lurking under the surface of it all. When he looks into the other man's scarlet eyes, he feels like he's about to be swallowed alive.]

No coins weighing you down, eh? We'll make do. Let's see...

[Sherlock smokes and ponders the issue, secretly palming a card and exchanging it with another that's been stuck on the underside of the table. The move is slick, faster than a blink. He's done it a million times.]

Don't have enough books on me. So we're at matches, cigarette butts, clothing, or perhaps...

[A pause, and Sherlock grins again. Sliding out of his suit jacket, he rummages around in a pocket, coming up with a bag of roasted nuts.]

How's this, professor~?

[ He notices the move, and he deliberately slowly slides his gaze from the table's edge up to the cards Sherlock is holding--making it abundantly clear that he saw. Instead of pointing it out, though, he says: ]

Nuts? Wonderful. We can snack as you lose.

[ and deals the next few cards--this time, dealing from the bottom for himself. He's not quite as careful as he normally might be, but neither does he make it obvious.

Please don't disappoint him--it'd be an awful shame. ]

[That slow, knowing gaze from him sets Sherlock's heart pounding, and he can't help but grin wildly. Potentially getting caught has never been so much fun!

Even in his excitement Sherlock remains hyper-aware, catching the way the professor's pretty fingers slip to the bottom of the deck. His only reaction is for his grin to curve into a smirk as he sets the bag in the middle of the table, between them.

Sherlock then takes a last drag of his cigarette, blowing a halo of smoke over William's head before putting it out.]

I wonder if we have the same number in mind right now.

I suppose we'll find out, won't we.

[ He reaches out, dipping his fingers into the bag of nuts, and draws out three to place them down. And then, whenever Sherlock leans in, he's going to reach over to pluck the cigarette right out of Sherlock's mouth so he can boldly bring it up to his own lips.

Will will get told off for it when he gets back, no doubt--the cigarette smoke will linger in his hair and clothes and on his skin. Right now, he can't bring himself to care.]

[Now that's one hell of a play, because it takes Sherlock completely by surprise. He arches a brow, leaning in on his elbows, completely entranced by this strange, fascinating noble.]

Oho. I see the professor has himself a dirty little habit.

[And dammit if he doesn't look fine as hell with those plush lips of his pursed around the detective's cigarette. Sherlock starts to wonder if maybe he's somehow drunk off a couple shots, because another man has never so enchanted him, especially during not during a supposedly friendly game like this.

His grin widens. Yes, this is definitely fun! There's no choice but to push the stakes higher, so he matches the professor's bet with one of his own before casually taking a card, his eyes on William all the while.]

A guilty pleasure I try not to indulge in too often. You won't tell, will you?

[ he keeps the cigarette tucked casually between slim fingers as he raises his brow at Sherlock, holding his gaze. this isn't normal, isn't him--but something about this man makes him giddy. keeps him wanting to see more of what might happen as he raises his bet by another two nuts. ]

It'll be our little secret.

[It's hard to tear his gaze away, but somehow Sherlock manages. He takes a long swallow of his drink to help bide his time, sets down his glass, then spreads out his cards in one smooth motion.]

Four of a kind. I believe your nuts are mine, my dear professor.

Well done.

[ he splays his cards out as well, revealing a high full house--a very good hand, but still not able to beat sherlock's. ]

Hey, not bad, not bad...~!

[Sherlock rolls his winnings to himself, collecting their cards and reshuffling the deck. He's so excited that he nearly forgets about their actual bet, and has to pause in the middle of lighting another cigarette to ask William his question.]

Oh, yeah, a question, a question...

What's your favorite book?

[ Will reaches out, wordlessly taking up the deck when Sherlock pauses to speak. He shuffles it himself, cards sliding easily from hand to hand as he hums thoughtfully. ]

That's a difficult question. I enjoy reading across a rather broad range--I spent a lot of time reading as a child, you see. But I'll admit there's something I find particularly fascinating about histories and biographies.

[ He deals for them, cards flicking between them on the small table. ]

The world, as it is now, is a result of what came before us. It is up to us, then, to create for ourselves and our descendants what is next to come and what we leave for them.

That's not really an answer, y'know.

[And yet, Sherlock doesn't feel like complaining. Listening to this guy talk is nice, so he doesn't really mind not getting a solid answer out of him.

At least, not for now.

Sherlock picks up his hand and spreads his cards, not reacting to the low ranks he's been dealt. Easy enough to fix with the skills he has.]

So teaching mathematics is your way of preparing people for the future, huh.

Math is clean. Elegant.

[ His cards are decent. He has the makings of could potentially be a relatively good hand, and now he has to decide: does he want to throw the round and see what else this detective wants to know? Or should he play to win an answer of his own? ]

[ the tardis on the titanic? what could possibly go wrong! except for the iceberg.

well, that and the aliens/robots/dinosaurs that are trying to sink the ship a little too early and/or enslave the human race.

i'm sure it'll be fine. ]

[ooc: Here for the prompts, so it doesn't have to be the Titanic, per se. I am open to that time period, though.]

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You're here, THERE'S NOOOOTHING I FEEEEEAR!

Balthazar / SPN / ota but unlikely to be particularly serious

wildcard possibly

wild indeed!

Re: wild indeed!

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<3 ((you get pre-Nexus Balthazar just to make this more interesting))

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Oh I am here for anything you want

Sherlock Holmes | Moriarty the Patriot | castmates

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I hope this works pls ignore his misogyny he sucks

Re: I hope this works pls ignore his misogyny he sucks

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((I know absolutely nothing about poker sorry this might suck!))

Re: ((I know absolutely nothing about poker sorry this might suck!))

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((Feel free to have Liam catch his cheat, then sherly can ask to be punished lol. Or not is fine!))

Re: ((Feel free to have Liam catch his cheat, then sherly can ask to be punished lol. Or not is fine

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