Moby Dick will drive anyone to murder [Open]

[aboutthatevac]

[[OOC: Kerrigan is in the brig for around three weeks ICly. Characters can come up to her at any point in those three weeks here.]]

Kerrigan was used to cells. At least this time there wasn’t a mass of purple flesh on the floor, pulsing as it spread closer to her. That had been a different place- in another life and yet the memory remained. The fear remained.

She was defenseless. No, that was not true. Even without weapons Kerrigan was far from defenseless. The power dampeners may have taken away what was left of her psychic powers but she could still defend herself if needed, as unlikely as it was. Several weeks in the brig for stabbing someone a dozen times even after she’d told them exactly who they had in custody. It was laughable. It wasn’t what she deserved.

Maybe that was why they’d given her Moby Dick to read. Kerrigan only had her omnicomm for a few hours of the day and there was nothing else to do in here so she was allowed to read selections from the Media Library. She told them she didn’t care and to pick something randomly. They had to have given her this book on purpose. Not only was it torturous but the message was fitting- a man obsessed with revenge. The story had potential if only reading it didn’t leave her wanting to claw her eyes out (if only she still had claws). She would read and toss it aside. Then after hours and hours of nothing but silence and thinking and remembering she would start reading again. Anything to get away from the memories.

Comments

[on_your_nerves]

"Ah, so they espouse cruel and unusual punishment here?" said a voice she was possibly not expecting to hear. "Good to know if I ever find myself running afoul of the law."

Terrible to have that be your only book.

Somehow, he'd acquired a tailored suit. It wasn't quite tailored to him specifically (something he planned to remedy soon), but whoever it had once belonged to must have had a similar height and frame.

Whoever this 'Lex Luthor' had been, he'd had impeccable tastes, and Sherlock was grateful his belonging had been left intact in his mansion in the city.

[aboutthatevac]

Kerrigan could say that she'd been through worse but they both knew that all ready.

"Not a fan either?" Kerrigan didn't set the book aside immediately but she could only delay for so long. She looked up at Sherlock. "You recover quickly."

[on_your_nerves]

"I had some assistance in my recovery. Obviously. Much like the aid of that young woman with the water who stabilized me."

He went on, "As for Moby Dick, I'm not a fan of most literature, let alone literature as banal as that. Melville's details about the whaling industry were an interesting example of using fiction as an accounting of fact, but those were, unfortunately, rather boring facts."

He leaned back in his chair. "Whenever I read fiction for enjoyment growing up, I always preferred detective fiction in which the authors used the most accurate forensic science or investigative methods they had at the time."

[aboutthatevac]

Kerrigan wished she could remember what books she enjoyed reading as a child.

"You didn't come here to talk to me about literature."

[on_your_nerves]

"Of course not."

For a moment, he sat there staring at her through the shielding.

Then he said, "I'm here to discuss why you tried not to kill me."

[aboutthatevac]

Kerrigan stared back. Her eyes widened but aside from that she showed no sign of confusion. "I know I didn't hear that right."

[on_your_nerves]

"You heard me."

His face wrinkled up into a skeptical expression, and he waved a hand at her.

"Look at you. You're a trained killer, that much is obvious. Killing other people is as thoughtless as breathing for someone like you. Yet here I am--thirteen stab wounds and you didn't even sever the descending aorta and you only nicked the celiac artery. You had clear access to my throat, my eyes, my liver..."

Sherlock shook his head just slightly. "No trained killer stabs someone thirteen times without even one of the wounds being an instant kill unless they weren't actually trying to kill them, unless some part of their mind--even if it was an unconscious part of their mind--didn't want to kill."

[aboutthatevac]

Kerrigan's expression hardened. Her brows creased.

Sherlock wasn't the only one who was puzzled by the fact that he was still alive. She knew why she had stopped, even if she had declined to share that with Security. The tobacco reminded her of Jim. She may not have been able to listen to herself but Jim...

That didn't explain how Sherlock had survived her wrath for half a minute.

But if a part of her hadn't wanted to kill Sherlock then where the hell had it been during her entire reign as the Queen of Blades? How many lives could have been saved if she had been stronger?

"I don't know."

[on_your_nerves]

"You said you were the Queen of Blades. A bit affected for a title, but you made it quite clear you suffered something traumatic during the time you carried it. Then when you were at your most vulnerable, your most damaged, the ones that brought us onto this ship only traumatized you further by doing what they did to you."

He'd found it quite traumatic himself, when it had been forced into his head by her.

[expendable_mind]

"You know, I sort of expected you here a lot sooner and more often... That, or having to clean up various Daligig entrails from all over your body after you dismembered many of them." The voice was familiar, and it came from the nearby shadows.

Even in his laid-back ways, Splicer couldn't help but show up if his 'Queen' was upset. That, and an odd friendship had grown between the two, even if it felt one-sided at times.

Soon enough, the area in front of the cell shifted and got distorted until his frame came into view, and soon enough, his visage was as clear as day.

"How ya holdin' up Sarah?" he asked casually, a bit of concern in his voice.

[aboutthatevac]

"How do you think?" Kerrigan snapped. She let out a breath and her voice was calmer when she spoke again. "I've been through far worse. Don't bother asking that question. I'm sure there are others you could ask."

She leaned her head against the wall. "I knew this would happen eventually."

As for the comment about the Daligig that wasn't for lack of trying. But breaking the bones in all of her limbs made it clear she couldn't exact her revenge without a plan.

[expendable_mind]

"You know, I'm starting to think you like me asking when you know more than anyone that I'll continue to do so," he mused with his usual smirk. Nonetheless, she pulled over a beat-up chair from nearby and sat in front of the cell looking over at her.

"Yeah, I sorta did too." He looked over at her book and raised a brow. "Man, couldn't you have chosen something else? I mean, I haven't read that particular one, but the movie adaptations throughout the years have been horrid."

[aboutthatevac]

"I don't like you asking. And the book is what they gave me." She could ask to for a different book but she didn't want to tempt fate and get an even worse book. At least this was so bad she could almost laugh at times. "Aside from that I'm fine. Are you satisfied?"

Why did she even bother lying?

[expendable_mind]

"Alright, if ya say so." he replied nonchalantly.

Any normal grunt would have just walked away, really, most terrans didn't bother submitting themselves to snarky, or dismissive remarks since most of the grunts had heard em all.

But, considering Splicer was no normal grunt.

Splicer rummaged through one of his belt pouches and procured a small device a bit larger than the palm of his hand. Sliding it through the cell bars and placing it on the floor, he sat back and looked over at Kerrigan.

"More'n likely ain't your thing Sarah, but hey, it might be better than the book. It jus' got basic games like those you'd find in the cubicle units of the lazy Dominion workers. Poker, blackjack, solitaire, pinball, some maze game and other random simple games." He didn't give a reason, or anything else for that matter, he simply offered her his usual casual smile.

[aboutthatevac]

She looked at the device for a moment before turning it on to check if he was telling the truth.

It could be a ploy. If she were the Queen of Blades she would never accept it. But she wasn't, was she? And if she read much more she'd go mad and succeed in killing someone this time.

"Is this one of the ways you spend your time?"

[expendable_mind]

"Well I play a much more advanced plethora of games from a ton of centuries... I kind of collect them. Hobby and all that jazz." he started with a big smile.

"Though, I'm not sure the officers would be very pleased if I brought you one of my bigger rigs with the more advanced games and crap. Figured this little thing was small enough that they wouldn't really bother with taking it away yanno?"

Don't worry Kerrigan, it's only a glorified version of a 'More than 10,000 Games!' gig.

[aboutthatevac]

"Thank you." The words didn't come easily but she said them anyway.

She paused and looked at the games. "Aside from the SHODAN incident have you ever..." She turned the device over in her hand. "Lost control and attacked someone?"

[expendable_mind]

Splicer nodded and smiled. He knew they weren't easy, but that made them all the more precious cause she had meant them.

At the latter question he shook his head and tilted his head as he let out a sigh. "Nope, and good thing too... Don't wana go through that shit again man..." He paused and looked at her with a raised brow, "Why do ya ask?"

[nerves_of_steel]

A man stopped slightly more than an arm's distance from front of her cell. He was somewhere in his late thirties or early forties with blondish hair, a military bearing, and a serious expression on his face.

Depending on what she'd gotten off of Sherlock Holmes' brain while she'd been in there, she might even recognize him.

John clasped his hands behind his back and sank his weight, anchoring himself on his spot of floor. He assumed that there was some limiter on her abilities -- after all, what would be the point of imprisoning a psychic and then allowing her visitors if they couldn't? -- but getting close hardly seemed like a good idea.

"So. You're Kerrigan."

[aboutthatevac]

Aside from his thoughts at the time, Kerrigan hadn't gleaned much from Sherlock's mind. But given the Sherlock's insistence that she tell "John" how sorry he was, she had a good idea who this man was.

"Are you John?"

[nerves_of_steel]

All John knew was that she was psychic and capable of dumping her experiences into someone's head. He just started with "everything probable" and intended to narrow it down best he could from there.

"Dr. John Watson, yes," he answered neutrally. Behind his back, the fingers of his left hand fluttered, flicking out and curling back into a fist in the one outlet of expression he permitted himself in her presence. Other than that, he intended to be entirely composed. Controlled. Opaque.

He paused and assessed her for a moment, trying to get some sort of read on her. If she was going to dismiss him out of hand, he didn't want to waste his breath on threats or promises.

"I imagine that I don't need to tell you that he's fine," he said finally. Even if Sherlock hadn't come down here himself (the idiot), John imagined that Security would have told her if the charges had changed from "assault with a deadly weapon" to "murder".

[aboutthatevac]

Kerrigan stood. "Good." She knew that his prognosis had been positive but hadn't received confirmation.

"He was calling for you. He wanted you to know he was sorry."

[nerves_of_steel]

Though she hadn't said them maliciously, her words impacted on John heart like a body blow. It was all too easy to imagine Sherlock bleeding out and dying, John's name getting fainter on his lips with every passing second. All too easy. The only outward sign of the impact however, was a tightening of the lips and three more flickers of the fingers before the curled into a fist so tight he could feel the bones creak.

"We talked," he replied coldly. "Cleared the air."

He wanted nothing more right now than to take a swing at her. But even had they not been separated by bars and a force field, even had it not been incredibly inadvisable to get within range of her, he wouldn't have tried. He was furious, absolutely aching with rage, but he was never so far gone that he'd take a swing at an unarmed woman in a jail cell.

Besides, she was standing and facing him head on, which would seem to indicate that she was paying attention to him. That was what he'd wanted to know.

"That thing that happened," he began again. "It isn't going to happen again. Understood?"

[aboutthatevac]

"I don't take orders unless you've earned my respect." Usually not even then. "But I've all ready made plans to prevent it from happening." And at the very least to make sure that her next murder would be her last.

[nerves_of_steel]

"Call it a statement of fact, then," John said, steel lacing the neutrality of his tone. "I couldn't care less about your opinion on the matter so long as the problem gets taken care of. If you've taken care to set precautions yourself, so much the better for me and everyone else on board."

He wasn't going to make threats. Making threats would mark him as a potential threat should she take up the crew-stabbing knife again, however low-powered, and he wanted to be as low-priority as possible. He should have stayed away entirely for the best possible chances of remaining low-priority, but that hadn't been an option.