Part 1 - Ring Around the Rosie

[wieldtherainbow]

The briefing was, well, brief, given the complicated situation they were being thrust into. Stacy tried to give them as much as she could but apparently her intel on this universe was rather limited.

For this reason, they were dumped rather unceremoniously on a vast planet, with grassy green fields, the dropship that dropped them off retreating on autopilot and disappearing back into the transdimensional ether. It was a lovely planet at the very least, with vast deep blue skies, teeming with vegetation, but oddly, they all would likely find themselves dealing with the unnerving inkling feeling that they were somehow being watched. There were no sentients or even animals in site, however.

The only thing they could do right now was wait. They had been told that they would be found, that they would be offered rings, taken into these different Corps of people, and they they needed to make sure the war ended in a way that didn't devastate life in this universe.

That was something of a tall order.

[ooc: Go!]

Comments

[wieldtherainbow]

They both looked slightly taken aback, but Guy held up his hands somewhat apologetically and said, "Listen, all we know is anyone else that's picked up a yellow ring is pretty much a goddamn monster. Look at their ugly mugs," Guy gestured to the snarling, toothy, quite-frankly-evil-looking bunch. Sherlock cut an odd figure in comparison, but all Guy and Kyle saw was yellow.

"Ain't nobody who gets a yellow ring hasn't done something to deserve it."

[wieldtherainbow]

"Guy's right. We've had some people on our side have to use yellow rings on occasion," Kyle said, thinking of Hal, "but it was a struggle or they had to do it by forcing it through sheer will. The rings didn't choose them like they chose him and he's taking to it like a fish to water, just like all the others."

Sherlock was playing around with his newfound power in the background with ease, calling up various guns and knives and also what was possibly an ice pick and maybe something that might have been a hacksaw. He seemed like he didn't care at all about the fact that it was somewhat disturbing to do so.

John, however, would likely recognize him just trying to figure out a way to fight with the power offensively in a manner that was instinctual and on terms he understood and forensics was the easiest avenue of approach. Anyone looking in from the outside, though...

"Yellow rings are like shorthand for evil."

[wieldtherainbow]

"Except when one chose Batman," chimed in John Stewart, almost chidingly, having heard the whole conversation. "The only reason the yellow ring rejected him was because he rejected it and because he had exposure to green rings. It's possible someone could get chosen as a Yellow Lantern without being entirely bad because they instill fear in others but don't cause actual harm. Unlikely, but possible."

John turned to Watson, "That said, Watson, you're not doing your friend any favors by buddying up to him publicly. The other yellows aren't going to like it."

[nerves_of_steel]

"Sherlock is the best man I know," John hissed at Kyle and Guy. "Say what you will about the other yellows, for all I know it's true. But that man," he moved to point at Sherlock, then remembered John Stewart's warning and refrained. "That man has risked life, limb, and sanity for me and I will not stand here and listen to you insult him because a piece of tacky yellow jewelry decided it liked the look of his reputation."

He realized that he'd spread his feet a little further apart, bending slightly at the knees and balancing on the balls of his feet, like he was preparing to start throwing punches. He took a breath and let it out, forcing himself to back down again and relax, then turned to Stewart.

"Are they going to try and hurt him if they see him talking with me?" he asked.

[wieldtherainbow]

"Okay okay. Cool your jets," said Guy.

Interesting. He'd never seen someone get that up in arms over a yellow before. Not anyone remotely worthwhile anyway.

[wieldtherainbow]

"Probably," answered Kyle. "They can be as vicious with each other as everyone else."

He sounded like he had experience with them enough to know.

He also sounded like he didn't want to talk about how he knew it.

[on_your_nerves]

It was right then that Sherlock chose to wander over, tired of the greens hogging John.

Also, he'd been drooled on.

"One of the yellows drooled acid on my sleeve," he huffed in annoyance, as if to say 'Look what fresh stupidity I have to deal with,' showing him the sleeve that now had holes in it. It looked like he was currently trying to will it into being repaired. He'd had no problems stopping the acid from burning himself at least.

"They're all so dull and they lack anything remotely resembling intelligence. They like to brag about the terrible things they've done rather than hiding it and presenting any sort of challenge with it at all. We're going to have to end this conversation by having a fake fistfight to keep us both out of trouble because of the expectations on us now and they're so dim they'll actually think we've really had a falling out. Especially since I'm using my ring to create background noise so any of them with sensitive hearing won't hear this conversation."

[nerves_of_steel]

John shot a warning look at the other Green Lanterns, then -- well, he couldn't help himself -- he rolled his eyes at Sherlock's complaining.

"I can do basic repairs, I'm not some kind of miracle-working tailor," he said, taking Sherlock by the arm and rucking up the sleeve to check the arm beneath for injuries. Seeing that the burns hadn't gone all the way down, he pulled the sleeve back down and concentrated on the holes there.

"You're going to need to be careful," he said more quietly. "If they're all that 'boring', they're not going to think twice about ripping you apart. Don't get cute, don't be a smart-arse, keep your head down. If you mouth off, they're not going to toss you in for contempt until I can bail you out, they're just going to kill you." He paused, thinking for a moment. "Which I'm sure you've already deduced.

"Look, get through training, don't get killed, and then come find me. I don't want you--" He broke off and gesticulated, forcing an irritated expression on his face in case the Yellows were watching. "Just don't do anything stupid. No Russian Roulette, or sticking your hands into their mouths, or doing anything interesting."

He released Sherlock's arm. The sleeve still looked scarred, but only if you knew where to look for it. Like he'd said, he wasn't a miracle-worker; and his guts were too busy twisting around at the thought of letting those psychotic maniacs take Sherlock with them. The last time he'd left Sherlock alone with a murderer...

He tried to bury the worry under bravado.

"I suppose you want me to let you win this one?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "I think we both remember how it went the last time you told me to punch you as part of your cover."

[on_your_nerves]

"However will I maintain my hobby of sticking my hands in the mouths of strange creatures if I listen to you?" Sherlock said flatly.

"Now if you're quite finished with telling these three I'm not a serial killer in the making and that far more convincing and vindictive individuals have already tried to scare you away from me (unsuccessfully), now might be a good time for us to do this. I promise I'll be careful from here on out."

A pause.

"As careful as I can be. Which...will be more than usual, I assure you."

He'd do what he could this time. No unnecessary risks, just the risks that needed to be taken. This was war. This was their lives now. Some risks couldn't be avoided. Some risks gave them an advantage. Those were the only ones he'd take now.

He frowned. "And it's not a matter of letting me win."

Another pause.

"Do let me win, though. I'd appreciate it."

Yellow Lantern street cred, yo.

[nerves_of_steel]

"You won't," John replied, squaring up to Sherlock in preparation for their fist-fight. "I'm going to have it put in our lease. 'Sherlock is not allowed to put any of his extremities into any orifices without a note from his doctor'. And," he grinned. "It is entirely a matter of letting you win."

[on_your_nerves]

"Are you sure you'd want to word it that way?" Sherlock asked, nose twitching in amusement. Then he took a swing at John with some yellow ring energy behind it.

"And it is isn't. In the least."

[nerves_of_steel]

"Why, got any--" John didn't get to finish his mock-taunt, rolling with the punch and falling onto a hastily-created blob of green energy. He sprang back to his feet and returned the favour with a wild swing supported by green energy. John also protected his knuckles with a construct not unlike a boxing glove. His surgery days might be behind him now, but he still didn't want to ruin his hands.

"Is so," he retorted. Then, more loudly so that everyone who cared to could hear, as he launched himself at Sherlock, "YOU TOLD ME YOU GOT THAT SKULL FROM SOMEONE WHO'D WILLED THEIR BODY TO SCIENCE!"

[wieldtherainbow]

"Easy there, Johnny-boy," Guy said, peeling John off of Sherlock and flicking the prone Yellow Lantern away with another giant green hand. "You don't know what you're doing with that thing yet, you could hurt yourself."

He wasn't even bothering to hide his grin, but it was toothy enough to pass as almost-malicious glee over the Green-Yellow enmity returning to normal levels.

[on_your_nerves]

"You were always so blind! That's what made you useful to me--and that's all you were. Useful. You don't understand power--not real power, like this!"

As usual, his theatrics were on the melodramatic side but actually fairly convincing.

"I was saving you for last," he said in a strange tone that didn't sound natural coming from a human throat.

[nerves_of_steel]

John lunged against John and Kyle's restraining constructs, face twisted in a snarl.

"I hope your bloody ring has a map in it!" he shouted back. "So you don't get lost out there in the solar system!"

[on_your_nerves]

Sherlock's face immediately took on a look of genuine annoyance, but he managed to segue it into one of fake anger and condescension.

"You would say something like that when you're the type that thinks the green is more effective than the yellow," he snarled in a low and dangerous voice.

(One of the ongoing arguments in the flat had been over which colour dish soap was most effective. Not which brand--which colour.)

"You just couldn't handle it all, could you. You couldn't handle what I did to Miss Scarlet. In the library. With the spanner. You couldn't handle what I did to you that night, winding you up until you actually picked up a knife and stabbed away. Do you know how thrilling that was?"

[nerves_of_steel]

John struggled to maintain his wrathful expression in the face of Sherlock bringing up their arguments about Cluedo and dish soap, of all things. (Though he was going to remind Sherlock that he'd admitted that the yellow was more effective if they ever got back to Baker Street proper to argue about dish soap again.) Hopefully whatever changes flashed across his features would read as guilt over the stabbing instead of repressed giggling.

"You'd better survive your training, Sherlock!" he said once he could speak without risking laughter. "Because I want to kill you myself! I'm the only one allowed to kill you, do you hear me? The only one! I've earned that!"

[on_your_nerves]

"You and me then, John. That's how all of this will end; you and me, together, fighting to the death!"

The two of them together, fighting back to back, fighting everyone else to the death.

"Watch your back!" he said as a parting shot.

Sherlock really hoped he would, at least until the two of them were reunited so they could watch each other's backs.

[nerves_of_steel]

"You watch yours!" John shouted back, torn between the urge to turn away -- it seemed appropriate -- and being unable to actually do so. Sherlock was about to go off with a crowd of vicious psychopaths, and John had to let him for the good of the bloody mission. He set his jaw to keep from making any expressions that would give away his thoughts, scowling at the rest of the Yellow Lanterns who had been watching with a more sinister approval than displayed by the Green Lanterns surrounding him.

This was the first time he and Sherlock were going to be separated for any significant length of time since they'd woken up in the Pod Caverns. John wasn't looking forward to it.