Take a trip, they told him. Get out of the States, go somewhere new, go to relax and get away from the horrors he faced in his every day life. Seemed a bit illogical, to send him away from his friends, but it also held an appeal he could appreciate and so he packed a bag and got on a plane.
Only… he didn’t remember getting off the plane and getting on the streets.
His disassociation kicked in hard, waking him with rain dripping onto his glasses and holding his head in confusion. He looked around the unfamiliar city he had found himself in, swaying dizzily. There was a roaring in his ears that sent him to his knees, grasping at a streetlight. He had been on the plane… then he’d blinked, and now he was here…
“Not again…” He groaned, holding his head between his hands as he shook.
A little boy with dark curls tiptoed through Victor’s house. He was Sherlock, but not the Sherlock that had stitching and slicing, nor the Sherlock who had fallen from a rooftop. No, this was a young Sherlock, and while he retained all his adult memories, physically, he was a child again.
And he was bored and more than a little bit alone. He wanted very much for someone to come play pirates with him, now that he’d remembered what they were. He needed a first mate. Or someone else to play with him, to be the evil boat-police (as he called them) or sea monsters. "Hello? Someone play?“
Months had passed since Silas visited his expected place of origin, and things didn’t go as well as he had hoped. He did find some things that may have led to his human life, but he found more anguish than he expected, and he found a darkness in himself that drove away one of his most trusted companions.
Now separated, Silas had left Eve after he saw her home safely, and then he left to scour the world for himself. But no matter how far he went, no matter how ancient the ruins he walked, nothing brought him any sort of content. Whether it be because he was completely alone, or he knew he ruined something precious with Eve, something just didn’t feel right within himself.
After eight months had passed, he once again found himself wandering back in the direction of Eve’s home. Maybe she was still there, maybe she wasn’t. But he didn’t want to see her directly just yet; he just settled himself down for a week, hiding amongst crowds to get himself situated, stealing only minimal amounts of blood to keep himself satiated. No sign of her yet, but he knew that eventually he had to face her, since that was his original plan.
The only problem was, he didn’t exactly know where she was. So after about a week and a half, he sat in the middle of the night on a bench by a river, idly skipping rocks as his mind wandered.
“I know it’s officially the ‘Republic of China’, but I secretly don’t like that name all that much. Taiwan is Taiwan to me; they’re two separate cultures and China can’t take that away.”
Jasper wasn’t too much into politics, but he did have a bitter spot for when other people corrected him. Not that this nice woman had, but he had a bad habit of rambling to strangers. “Sorry, I hope I wasn’t boring you.” he apologized as he reached down to scratch the head of his cat.
Only six days had passed by since the incident with Eve and her morphine and of course he had been worried about her. Despite her addiction, Eve still had goodness in her heart, though he feared how long that was going to last until the drug would drain it from her. And as much as he wanted to stay away from that, he knew a part of what was causing her to do this, at least, and he knew that there was a way that he could stop this.
He made himself a plan and made his way back to Eve’s flat while she was sleeping, making sure she didn’t notice him in reality. He would only allow her to see him in her dreams until she got better, no matter how messy it was inside her mind. If he had any power to help her out of this hole she dug, then he would.
Victor never wanted to be turned into a Llamia in the beginning, not when he had a daughter waiting for him at home. But Laurelai’s hunger wasn’t satiated until she had a companion at her side, and in grief, Victor never returned home in fear of what Mireille would think. Of course, this didn’t mean that he left his family alone completely.
Over the years, he would sneak out to watch his daughter grow from her window while he stayed in the shadows, and when she was old enough to go out at night, he would always make sure she returned home safely whenever he could.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t there to save her when she was attacked by a monster, a blood reaving savage that took no mercy on her, but because Laurelai knew how much this girl meant to Victor, she gave her a second chance.
Now Victor chooses to step out of the shadows and reintroduce himself to a long-awaited relationship, as painful as it may be in the beginning. But he’s not going to give up so easily on her, on himself, and he’s not going to let her murderer walk away so easily.
After a day of teaching Bod French History and Biology and working at the morgue, Eve returned home and began to make dinner for herself. She checked the clock often, knowing full well that Silas will be visiting for their nightly experiments. While her dinner cooked, she wrote down her notes into her notebook of what will be done tonight and theorizing possible results.
It was difficult to break the habit of disappearing and pop up wherever he wanted; he could easily knock on a door and wait for Eve to answer. So after the sun had set on the next day, after he saw Bod home and safe, he left for the night and stood at Eve’s door, giving a soft three knocks.
send me ❤ and I will bold all that applies to your muse
I would kill for you. • I would make love to you. • I would fuck you. • I would protect you. • I would hurt you for a selfish cause. • I wish we had more in common. • I want nothing to do with you. • I want to see you cry. • I want a future with you. • I want to destroy your future. • I do not care what you do. • I am indifferent towards you. • I want children with you. • I love you ( platonically ) • I love you ( romantically ) • I love you like family. • You are my family. • I could fall in love with you. • I would lie for you. • I would fight by your side. (this could be cause conditional… not sure about Salma’s face rn) • I will never let you go. • I would hold you while you cried. • I would hug you. • I want to kiss you. • I would stay by your bedside if you were ill. • I want to fall asleep with you in my arms. • I want to forget you. • I will never forget you. • I only want to make you proud. • I wish I could make you happy. • You deserve nothing. • I will never forgive you. • You confuse me.
Sherlock is slowly regaining his very high opinion of his intellect and feels insulted when baby voices are used or redundant explanations are given. He’s starting to feel superior—intellectually—to everyone but Victor and possibly Eve. He thinks himself equal to the creature.
Silas was old. He always was, even since the very beginning. The only difference now was that he could feel it, physically. He had abandoned his home in the rural graveyard once again, as the ghosts were used to, but this time he had no mission. He had no work to worry about, no trail to track, no souls to save.
And, to be quite honest, it was such a weight off his shoulders. Whether or not his body required him to breathe or not, he finally felt like he could now.
The place that he had traveled to, in fact, was the place where his memory went no further back. The first time he opened his eyes as his accursed self; an abandoned little village close to Selsey, where the clouds were thick enough to hide the evening sun. There was a light fog, but he could still see easily enough.
He had a feeling that this fog had been stuck here for centuries. Maybe this was a curse on the land as well.
There were houses half-buried in sand, mostly made of stone and wood, and he could still see bits and pieces of shipwrecks peeking out of the waves. And somehow the dock he stood upon seemed to last the time weighed upon it.
“I used to have dreams of drowning…” he thought aloud to whatever soul wandered behind him; be it corporeal or not. He didn’t much care at this point. “I feel like it’s important for some reason…but–” He softly shook his head as he looked down at the murky waters. “–I can’t remember for the life of me.”
(( *clears throat* Come at me, ladies!…. Really though I love this wonderful mess Margo have gotten herself into.
Oh and mymindissuperb mun, Margo could be in the future verse without problem seeing as she doesn’t stay dead, she can die but she only stays dead for maybe a week or so(Depending what caused her death, I’m working out some things about her), it takes her mind a very long time to remember what happened before her death (it’s computing pretty much) but that’s another thing that could be toyed with at a later time. *hint Creature, Margo angst hint*
If you cuties have any promts and ideas just throw them at her, I adore where all of this might go (even if Margo most definitely might get hurt c:) Well toodles~))