IC INBOX FOR DAYBREAK

[hatesdeerstalkers]

James Moriarty
UN: 128nemesis

STATUS: Mathematics Professor ACCOLADES: PhD In Mathematics, Bachelors in Astronomy, Criminal Mastermind

BIO: Tutoring is available, though I do ask that you set it up with me to make sure that there will be no schedule conflicts for the both of us.

© TESSISAMESS

Comments

[strings_theory]

You free for some dumb shit?

[hatesdeerstalkers]

Depends on what 'dumb shit is' - however, my schedule is completely clear at the moment.

Where should we meet?

[strings_theory]

Uhhh, somewhere that I won't be overheard, preferably? Have a reputation or some shit to uphold, after all.

[hatesdeerstalkers]

Then I would recommend my office - it's quite well insulated.

[He may have...made some modifications. it's fine.]

[strings_theory]

[It's totally fine when it's exactly what she needs.]

Gimme about ten minutes and I'll head down that way?

[bolderfell]

[It doesn't take too much fishing for Therion to narrow down which of the faculty dorms belongs to the math professor. As soon as he deems it reasonably safe--there's never going to be no risk, not in his line of work, but it's long after noon and Moriarty ought to be teaching or holding office hours or something, doing calculus for fun, whatever--a nigh-unnoticeable Therion slips into the Savant apartments and starts in on #107's locks. Soon enough, he feels the mechanism click open under his fingers, and, slowly, silently, he eases the door ajar.

There, he pauses. Suddenly, this feels chillingly familiar. Half his nightmares this week have started just like this, right foot over the threshold to find nothing, nothing, and the fall.

But Therion swallows, exhales, opens and closes his hands, and forces himself into calm. He's awake, and he's done this a million times. The floor is right there. So, with all due superstition, he taps his knuckles carefully on the door for good luck, puts his right foot forward, and sneaks inside to see what's not nailed down or on fire.]

[hatesdeerstalkers]

[In truth, Moriarty had known the young man was going to pay him a visit. That moment of interaction at the Paintball match had been enough to confirm it, after all.

And though he truly was in his office at the moment Therion broke in, the young man would have felt the brushing of spider silk against him as he snuck in - alerting Moriarty to the fact that he had an uninvited guest.

With a grin, he leaves the papers he was grading, and calmly begins to walk towards the Savant apartments.

But, for the moment, Therion truly is alone inside his apartment - and it looks, actually, quite plain. There's a couch and a television - two, actually, a modern flat screen and an old CRT - along with quite the array of old to modern video game systems along with their games, carefully put away.

There's the kitchen to one side, and a hallway leading off to the bedroom and bathroom. Where would he like to go first?]

[bolderfell]

[Hmm.

Well, rooms like these are about what he'd expect from a normal math professor, but not one at a school like this. Certainly not one who outfits an entire paintball competition from his own private funds. Therion glances around, looking for the obvious: motion sensor alarms, safes, expensive art. Ultimately, what he tries first is the bedroom. He wants to be in and out, after all, and generally, people feel safer hiding things where they sleep than in areas they might use to entertain.

That door gets a careful examination for traps, too, before his standard good luck knock and entry.]

[hatesdeerstalkers]

[No safes or expensive art in the area, though there's also no motion sensor alarms or traps on the door to his bedroom - though pushing it open just reveals...

..A very plain bedroom, with a bed and two dressers, along with a desk with a nice, back-supporting chair and a laptop.

There's also a very torn shirt hanging on the back of the door with what looks like dried bloodstains, but given what happened during the Hunt, that might not be surprising. It looks like Moriarty tried to clean and repair it a little before giving up on it, judging by the blotches here and there and the clumsy stitching.

Definitely not what you expect from someone with apparently a bit of money stashed away, but he's also clearly not the kind of person to just leave things out willy nilly.]

[bolderfell]

...

[Therion wrinkles his nose, but carefully lifts one sleeve of the shirt for a better look at the thing. After what he saw during the Grimm attack, he's curious. Does the damage seem like it should've been fatal to whoever was wearing this shirt?]

It's dumb-ass question time again!

[strings_theory]

Question.

Since you've been around for fucking ages and shit.

How much different is the word whore now than it was back then? Just curious.

For no reason what-so-ever.

[hatesdeerstalkers]

....It depends on what context you use it in, honestly.

[strings_theory]

How the fuck does that matter? What?

I GUESS LIKE IF YOU CALL A CHICK THAT OR SOMETHING?????

[hatesdeerstalkers]

Yes, but it could be incredibly insulting if you said it to, say, a woman of noble birth, but a mere title to an actual prostitute back in the day.

Whereas today, it is mostly an insult towards any woman.

[strings_theory]

I.

What.

Jesus fucking shit dude, what the hell.

Goddammit.

OKAY SO, LIKE. Good to know, I guess???? Fuck.

Before the Galra plot

[bolderfell]

[Something like a month and a half has passed since Moriarty offered Therion his... what. Assistance? Tutelage? Sure. To be honest, Therion originally had no intention of taking him up on it. He had any number of reasons not to, and not the least of which was his pride.

Something's come up, though, and Therion needs to talk to someone--someone who already knows his lifelong profession. Since Moriarty already made the invitation, and since Jolyne independently endorsed his advising skills, Therion slips into the faculty apartments once again and knocks quietly on Moriarty's door.

Look. Office hours are for schmucks, and also for people who aren't a thousand times cagier and more suspicious than they need to be.]

[hatesdeerstalkers]

Just a moment!

[There's the sound of shuffling, along with a TV suddenly being turned off - before the door's opened, and Moriarty blinks at his new visitor.]

Ah, Therion! Please, come in - You'll have to excuse me, as I wasn't expecting visitors.

[Moving aside, he goes into the kitchen.]

Tea, Coffee, Soda?

[bolderfell]

...I wouldn't mind coffee. Thanks.

[Fun and weird psychological finding: Requesting small favors of people often makes them like you more than refusing to burden them. Who knew?

Even though he's not planning to rob Moriarty this time, he still taps his knuckles on the doorframe and leads with his right foot. Superstition takes no holidays. He lowers his hood and loosens his scarf, looking much less in his element as an invited guest, and half-follows Moriarty towards the kitchen.]

Sorry for intruding. I didn't want to be seen.

[hatesdeerstalkers]

[Why do you think he acts the way he does? He's well aware of all the little tricks of the mind to get someone to see him as more amicable and trust him.

He smiles at the knocking - ah, that old tradition - before shaking his head and bringing out the coffee and a few snacks.]

No, no worries! I was merely lazing about, anyway.

[Setting it down on the table in front of his couch, he turns to Therion.]

So! What brings you here, hm?

[bolderfell]

[Though he's had plenty of time to think over his question, Therion still hesitates to ask. Quiet, he trails after Moriarty and considers the couch before he gingerly takes a seat at the far end.]

I assume you've been at this longer than I have.

[At crime? At magic? Either way, really. Therion's only just twenty, and even if he doesn't know how old Moriarty really is, it's a safe bet the man's got a year or thirty's experience over him.]

For years, my powers worked a certain way. Helped me get into places, hide in a crowd. Pick up a nice trinket here and there. ...You know the gist.

[He's familiar with 'this sort of work' and all. Therion laces his fingers together and looks at the professor.]

Can you think of any reason they'd suddenly change on me?

After surgery recovery

[improbablenotimpossible]

There's something I found while examining our respective blood.

Are you sitting down?

[hatesdeerstalkers]

Just finished streaming - what is it, Holmes?

[improbablenotimpossible]

Well, the results were - not what I expected.

[Moriarty will get a notification of a file labeled "Results.PDF" - if Moriarty looks at it, he'll see what's clearly the genetic charts of two individuals with notes on identical markers... which there is a lot of them.]

Now before you asked, I ran it multiple times on different machines.

[hatesdeerstalkers]

[He opens it, expecting something about deterioration or regen, something alarming but not anything that would shake his worldview.

Instead, what he gets...is something he could have never imagined.

He's not stupid - though now, he desperately wishes he can't understand what the identical markers are telling him.

Yet...it all makes sense. Horrible, horrible sense - the reason Holmes was the only man who could ever rival his genius, was...

Because they'd come from the same goddamn womb. More than that, they were -]

...We're Twins.

[He sends that without thinking about it.]

get over here now

[For that to be entirely lowercase and without punctuation?

Well, that's pretty much a massive sign as to how much this is effecting him.]

[improbablenotimpossible]

I'll be right over.

[He was there not more than a few minutes later, knocking to be let in, before folding his arms over his chest.]