milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Jim had a lovely day yesterday, and is in a great mood. So great he's in danger of getting annoyingly manic, which is why he's brought himself downstairs. Better to annoy random others than Sherlock. Unfortunately, that also means that he's at a loss for things to entertain him - he tries a walk, but is bored within ten minutes. The music in his headphones isn't enough, making Bar flick through a few hundred TV channels gets old very soon, and he only manages twenty minutes on the piano before shutting the lid and tapping his fingers over it restlessly.

And then he spots the dog. And smiles.

Ten minutes later he can be found crouched on a sofa by the fire, with ~~Buster's~~ Bonehead's baseball bat in one hand, and a dog biscuit in the other. This thing is going to learn to sit, one way or the other. Every time he manages it on command (mostly by accident), he gets half a biscuit. Every time he doesn't...well, even a half-chewed bat does the job it was intended for.

[OOC: catch him anywhere in his wandering around the bar, or with the dog. Open until next week! Link warnings for tattooing, jealousy that does not come from Jim, disgusting amounts of devotion and happiness, and inevitable NSFW behaviour.]

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The stern face breaks for a moment: Thor laughs, brief but real. "Who said these rules were human?"

Come on, man, he knows your species is insular -- and technologically primitive enough to have reason to be -- but seriously? A place like Milliways, and you think the Landlord and his guest-rules are human ones?

"If he's your dog, teach him as you like. But not under this roof."

(It's worth noting: Thor has no particular reason to assume this dog is a mortal one either. For all he knows, a baseball bat wielded by a human is a gentle swat to Buster. If that's untrue, then there may be a moral obligation to step in, but that's relevant to Thor as an individual. It's not relevant to Thor as a Security member, whose jurisdiction extends only within Milliways, and primarily only within its buildings.)

'He's not my dog.'

As if Jim would own something this ugly. He wouldn't go with any of his outfits, and would clash horribly with the decor of his suite. Besides. Stupid. Jim doesn't surround himself with anything stupid, which is, incidentally, why he's already fed up with this conversation. He still looks amused, but his eyes are turning cold.

Perhaps it would be sporting to point out that pissing him off tends to lead to things, people, property, buildings (such as this one) ending up damaged. But Jim's never been sporting and anyway, why ruin the surprise?

(He's also not sure this situation is worth starting a Thing over, though Thor will probably have to be taught a lesson at some point.)

'And you may not be human, but I don't think you're very bright.'

Sucks to be you, darling.

Mildly, "If you would request clemency, I'll hear it."

Jim laughs, open and bright. Sharp.

'Ask you for clemency?'

Dear God. This one really is thick.

(It's a familiar kind of laugh, in ways he deliberately isn't thinking about right now.)

"I didn't think so."

Thor says it cheerfully enough. He likes to give people chances to point out mitigating circumstances, on general principles, but this guy doesn't seem interested in that.

(And -- sorry Moriarty -- but after the whole human rules thing, which Thor reads as either thinking that humans established and maintain Milliways or that human is synonymous with people, Thor is in his turn wondering if this guy is a bit thick.)

"Come, then. If you want to leave a message for anyone first you may."

Jim raises his eyebrows again, and doesn't move. He would be very amused - and furious - to hear Thor's thoughts on the human rules, when he only meant the rules that apply to people here, also apply to every other entity. But more than that, this whole thing is stupid, and he wants no part of it.

'I didn't say I was agreeing.'

It's Thor's turn for his brows to quirk up.

"Nor did I ask you to."

That's sort of what a sentence means, Jim.

'Then it appears we're at something of an impasse.'

The corner of his mouth turns up.

'Or maybe I'm just waiting for you to manhandle me.'

He licks along his bottom lip, amusement only growing. This whole thing is so stupid, he's gong to have some fun with it. And it's not like Thor isn't hot. Jim leans on braced arms, eying him up and down.

'Drag me where you want me.'

Thor rolls his eyes.

If humans didn't choke so easily, he'd pick him up by his collar and carry him that way. But they do. And with someone less determined to make an ass of himself, Thor might continue the discussion, but Jim seems to be determined to make that as fruitless as possible.

So, fine. If Jim wants to argue like a child, he can get carried under one arm like a child!

With his own arms pinned -- and facing forwards, so he doesn't even get a good butt view while he's getting hauled off to the Security office. And with the same ease that an adult human might carry a baby, too; Thor barely seems to notice the weight, whether or not Jim decides to struggle.

He does not decide to struggle. He just laughs, limp as a rag doll, and humming a tune under his breath.

'This is really doing it for me,' he says in an entirely bland tone, as they make it through the office door.

'But you said you'd let me leave a note.'

Yeah, watch how much Thor cares.

He deposits Jim in a cell, and steps back through the wall.

"I did."

The easy thing would have been to accept this with honor and dignity and walk over to the bar under your own power to leave a note, like a reasonable person, of course. But naturally Jim didn't opt for that one.

"Write one and I'll leave it with Miss Bar. You have my word that I will not read it."

Of course he didn't. If Thor's going to be a dumbass, so is he. Besides, he was bored today and this has livened things up nicely. Briefly. Obviously, it's about to get a lot more boring for a couple of days, but at least there are walls to write on.

'It hardly matters if you read it, sweetie. X reads all my mail anyway.'

He holds his hand out.

'Paper?'

"Baby?"

Oh hey look writing supplies.

(Baby knows Jim rather better than Thor does, so Jim's mun can pick what the writing implement(s) in question are. Pen? Markers? Dull crayons?)

'I'll have you know,' he says, in an overly (and therefore obviously fake) officious tone, 'that I intend to write a strongly-worded letter to your superior about this.'

Or not. He'll just give X shit about employing half a brain cell to work on her team, even if said half-cell has muscles attached. In the meantime, he scribbles a note to Sherlock in the pink crayon provided.

Locked up again, darling. Two nights. You don't have to visit, but can if you like. xxx

This gets pushed words-forward onto the glass, and Jim fixes Thor with a thoroughly bored expression.

'Sherlock Holmes. See he gets it.'

Thor takes it, without great interest (without, in fact, reading it), and folds it in half.

"Did I not say I would?"

Why is he not surprised that this guy casually questions a warrior's honor, too? (This child? He's sure acting like it. But no, he seems human, and that means that developmentally he's almost certainly not. Provisionally, Thor guesses badly behaved adult.)

"What's your name?"

Excuse you! Jim has perfect manners, when he decides to use them. He treats his ultimate adversary with the utmost respect, even while telling him he's going to ruin his life, then kill him.

'I'm surprised you remember that far back.'

Jim picks up the pack of black markers provided - Baby knows how this goes - and slides one free of the plastic. He uncaps it, and tosses the lid into the corner.

'Jim Moriarty. Now go away. I've got work to do.'

With nearly anyone else, Thor would be making some extremely pointed comments about what insult Odin's son will and will not stand, and who, exactly, is in a position to give commands to Odin's son. (Odin and Frigga. There you go, that's the list.)

The comments are still there, mentally, while he gazes at Jim in a long moment of disdainful, annoyed assessment.

Then he goes over to the Security desk, and settles in to take his time about writing the relevant notes, and reading through any other files. He'll drop Jim's note off as promised, but in his own time; he didn't give his word to do it immediately, and he's at no Milliways patron's beck and call, thank you.

Jim can try to talk to him, if he likes, but Thor is going to be ignoring him at this point.

Jim has no interest in talking to him. He returns the gaze coolly, easily, projecting back a world of can't-care-won't-care. There's not a shred of fear in him, no annoyance, nothing but rock-solid faith in his own superiority.

Then he turns to stand on the cot, to start a very long, very complicated mathematical equation that'll take most of this whole wall to get through.

It's almost worth getting locked up so he has the time to get back to numbers. Everything else melts away. He'll come back 'round to the oaf with the surfer hair at some future point.

Edited 2017-04-18 19:53 (UTC)

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