Micolash, Host of the Nightmare (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
grantuseyes) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
nexus_crossings2017-10-12 07:51 pm
grantuseyes) wrote in nexus_crossings2017-10-12 07:51 pm
This Mortal Coil
Micolash is in the Nexus Plaza, thankfully looking cleaner and smelling better than the last time he'd been asking questions. The cage is still in place, of course; why would it not be? He even looks a little healthier! Not much, as his skin is still sallow and gaunt over angular bones and features. But at least not as unsteady and proportionally more alert as well.
He's not quick to ask a question, however. The scholar is instead on a sofa, long legs pulled up onto the seat with him and folded in front of him. The rest of the sofa, normally big enough to seat three, is piled with books. Easily two dozen, if not more. A glance at the covers that are visible will show a selection of possibly recognizable names: Erwin Schrödinger. Charles Hartshorne. René Descartes. David Ray Griffin. The one he has open on his knees right now is a collection of Thomas Aquinas' summae and related theories.
The scholar is content to immerse himself in this reading for hours on end, but eventually, he seems to recall where he is. And that he can ask questions if the fancy takes him.
"What do you think. Or believe. Happens after death?"
Getting RIGHT to the heavy stuff, it appears.
He's not quick to ask a question, however. The scholar is instead on a sofa, long legs pulled up onto the seat with him and folded in front of him. The rest of the sofa, normally big enough to seat three, is piled with books. Easily two dozen, if not more. A glance at the covers that are visible will show a selection of possibly recognizable names: Erwin Schrödinger. Charles Hartshorne. René Descartes. David Ray Griffin. The one he has open on his knees right now is a collection of Thomas Aquinas' summae and related theories.
The scholar is content to immerse himself in this reading for hours on end, but eventually, he seems to recall where he is. And that he can ask questions if the fancy takes him.
"What do you think. Or believe. Happens after death?"
Getting RIGHT to the heavy stuff, it appears.
no subject
Now that he's upright, Micolash offers a pale hand! Once it's taken, it proves to be cold and clammy. Wonderful.
"I am Micolash. Once Headmaster of Mensis, once Host of the Nightmare. Now simply Micolash." A shame. He so misses both of those titles.
no subject
"Surely there's a story behind that," Sherlock smirked, in references to those odd names. His voice indicates he's just humoring him, but information was information, even if it was...well, wild. "I'm Sherlock Holmes."
no subject
This is one of those moments when he finally hears the man's name. Sherlock...
The hand that had taken the other man's in greeting tightens its grip and the other hand snatches at Sherlock's wrist, intent on grabbing onto it as well. Micolash's face has become one of frantic realization, eyes wide and unblinking, his voice lowered in the same.
"You. You're the beast Ashlynn is looking for. Aren't you?"
no subject
"Beast?! Ashlynn? I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."
The word bristled on his lips. The body was transport, yes, but the body was also much better when human and not a rodent. He hated being called what he was.
How did this man know what he was?
There was something wrong in his memory palace. A whole wing, collapsed. Debris everywhere. He knew he'd been missing something, he just didn't know what. And he could not trust a single person here.
no subject
"You're lyingggg~," he replies in an unsettling singsong. "Your sisterly friend has told me all about you." His grip has only tightened now in his increasing glee of this discovery. What providence! What fortune! That he gets to be first to come across this marvelous specimen, to be the one to march him back to his newfound friend, Ashlynn! And what a reunion it shall be. He will not harm the beast, no. Of course not! That would be a clear disservice to the lady, as she'd told him in no uncertain terms that he was not to be hurt.
But that doesn't mean he can't satisfy his scientific curiosity first.
"Show me," Micolash hisses. "She said you can become beast, then man, then back again. I want to see it."
no subject
The detective's eyes widened--
"What friend? I haven't the foggiest, and you're spouting off nonsense, let GO!"
He wasn't going to put himself in a vulnerable position--if he shifts fully, right here and now, he could easily be captured, put in a cage, anything--
RP with Micolash: goes from 0 to 60 in weird and creepy at the slightest drop
His bony fingers are still vice-like in their grip, his eyes still wide with fervor, his smile still sickly and forced. The excitement he'd felt when he first heard of this unique breed of beast, one who retains the ability to change one way or the other, to keep his faculties intact? Oh, but it bubbles back up with such intensity, such elation! This situation is tremendous to his research, to the nature of the Beast Plague! What differences and developments can be found? What can be replicated and sussed regarding the dire transformation of man to animal? And why such a creature as a rodent? That's a new one!
But. Miraculously? Something manages to pierce the frenzy Micolash is gripped by. The man demanded he be let go. And while courtesy's priorities drop dramatically when fresh Insight is afoot....The scholar thinks of Abysa. His caretaker since finding the Nexus. How would he react if he found Micolash like this? Clutching a strange man against his will and comfort? Demanding things of him?
Even if his own morality is stunted enough that this kindness only comes in such a roundabout way, it's still a small blessing that the caged man hesitates... then loosens his grip fractionally. And then finally opens his hands fully, releasing Sherlock's forearm. Takes a step back. Arms still held in the same position, face still locked in that unsettling glee.
"...She is looking for you, you know," he eventually murmurs, unblinking. "She wanted me to take you to her, were you to be found..."
>:D
However, in the excitement, his blue-green eyes seem to be...somehow, impossibly, completely overlaid with black. And a split second later, they are back to their normal hue. An unfortunate price to pay when things get heated on a good day, and ever since he'd found himself wandering this place, his control had withered away to near nothing. Instincts amplified. Bits of brown fur might be visible at the edge of his sleeves.]
Hmph.
I really don't know what you're taking about. I don't know anyone here.
no subject
"...No?" he finally says, the word not a question but a confused statement. "No." Firmer now, asserting it. "No, she said Sherlock was her friend. I am unquestionably certain of it." He won't add that she described a man that sounded a lot like himself, down to the same height, but it's still a detail the scholar retains. "And she said that he was a man who changed into a beast, a rodent, at will. And that is where my interest-"
The eyes returning to blue is what makes him notice they'd changed at all. Micolash stops mid-sentence when he spots it. And then his own starts to searching feverishly over Sherlock once again, skimming for clues, for changes.
...fur.
Micolash's arm jerks, as if he'd been tempted to grab the other man's wrist again. But he stops himself. And then just wordlessly points at the man's wrist instead, his smile reappearing. Oh, but he feels so wonderfully validated right now.
Whoops! Sorry I totally botched the formatting on that previous reply lol
—he glances down at where the other man is pointing.
Damn. Sherlock quickly tries to pull his sleeves down but it’s mostly out of embarrassment now that the proverbial cat is out of the bag.
“I’m much more than a beast or a rodent.” It’s almost snarled. There was a reason he valued his intellect, his human side far more. He was a brain, the body was just transport, but being a mouse was a terrible means of transport, and his mind could easily turn to mush in the throes of instincts. Many people who knew what he was, once they discovered it, forgot about his intelligence and focused on what he was and what he could do. Plus, they could easily take advantage of him once they knew.
it's fine!
"I do so hope when you've been reunited with your friend, Ashlynn, you will let me examine you in full? Oh but you must! The answers I could glean from you..."