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A young Jim Moriarty enters the bar looking thoughtful today. He's dressed like a student, carrying a bookbag and with (fake) glasses on his nose. He takes a coffee from Bar and goes to sit by the Observation Window, but he doesn't look out of it. He empties the bag of its contents, and sits there looking at that instead.

It's money. A thick stack of fifty pound notes, easily making the tens of thousands. Jim...doesn't look happy about it, or dismissive, or much of anything really. Faintly quizzical, perhaps. After a while he draws his knees up to his chest and puts his chin on them, still watching the pile like it might stand up and do something interesting.

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"Well yeah, they buy the condoms on the way in, the other stuff on the way out."

Vyvyan shrugs. "I don't need to sell drugs. I made a couple hundred dollars a day in summer."

A gentle snort.

'That's not real money.'

At all.

'And what are you doing in America?'

How did he even get there?

"I'm on the run." Vyvyan says. "Someone wants me dead. And it's real money to me. I've never had so much before."

'Someone wants you dead. I can't imagine why.'

You could sand wood on his dryness.

Vyvyan is quiet for a moment.

"Yeah, the people who made me like this." he gestures to the general state of himself.

Eyebrows again.

'Your parents?'

It's a bit much to blame them for that whole mess.

"No." Vyvyan says. "Though my mum pretty much sold me to them, so she's as much to blame. Don't know who my dad is."

He orders a pint. "Turns out I'm a failed experiment. I'm supposed to be watched at all times. I've managed to lose my minder. They probably won't let me do that twice."

He thinks about this for a second or two. Part of it makes sense, given his power and resets. Still;

'What were they trying to make? Given how you actually turned out.'

"A weapon." Vyvyan says.

"There were at least four of us. Neil's parents wanted him to be immortal so he could never hurt himself when he was depressed. Rick's parents wanted him to live forever. Mike signed up voluntarily. My mum just wanted the money they offered her. Don't ask me how they tried to do it, even if I did remember I wouldn't understand."

He stubs out his cigarette. "Long story short, Neil turned out to be a useless weapon because he's a pacifist hippy. Rick's a pathetic coward. I've got the most powers but I'm too stupid and volatile. Mike managed to keep his sanity so he got the job of minder, managed to persuade the researchers not to kill us on the grounds that he would make sure we were too dysfunctional to cause any real trouble, but mostly he followed me round because I was the most dangerous.

"I managed to work some of this out last year, then Mike shot me in the head. Should have done a better job though, because I remembered enough to confront him until he filled in the gaps."

Jim's seen the Young Ones. It's interesting to hear there's some kind of reasoning behind all the madness - far more interesting than it simply being present to try and make people laugh.

It doesn't, in his opinion, excuse Vyvyan for being stupid, or disgusting. At least he's showing some enterprise though.

'A weapon for what purpose?'

"I don't know. I had to stop digging after Mike shot me in the head."

Jim's brow quirks.

'Why?'

"Because I didn't want to be bloody killed." Vyvyan says.

Duh, you're supposed to be smart, Jim.

"And one of these days he might have figured out how permanently."

This is just stupid, and Jim's face says so. Give up? Insanity.

'Then find a different way to find out what you want.'

Duh, that's what smart people do.

'One that won't get you killed.'

"I just escaped. I'm hardly gonna draw my attention to my location, am I?"

Makes no sense.

'...if you need to get info from Mike, your location will presumably change. Y'know, back to England.'

Vyvyan laughs, a lot.

"You seriously think they'd let me escape a second time? And you think I'm thick..."

'I do think you're thick. Almost beyond comprehension.'

Nothing personal, Vyvyan - though you're welcome to be offended - Jim thinks everyone is just that stupid.

Though you perhaps even more than most.

'It shouldn't be about them letting you do anything. Take charge of it, and the decision about the outcome is taken out of their hands.'

"Escaping to the US in the first place was the smartest thing I ever managed to pull off." Vyvyan says. "And I like having freedom and not being dead even if it means I don't know all the answers."

'Then I suppose, good luck with a life of non-comprehension and eventual murder.'

Like Jim cares? Not one iota.

"Yeah? Well I bet you get murdered one day, piss off the wrong person trying to be a smart arse." Vyvyan says, ordering another drink.

'Excuse you, there's no 'trying' about it,' he says, in a bored tone.

'And no, that won't happen.'

"How do you know?" Vyvyan asks.

"I'm a semi-immortal teleporter who can move walls with his bare hands. You don't have any qualms about pissing me off, it's just lucky for you I'm not murderous minded."

'Haven't you met the adult me?'

He's guessing 'yes'. Young!Jim does not know how he's going to die, or that he already has - but he's more sure than anything in his life that his older self is not going to meet his end by making a stupid mistake.

'And if you follow your own chain of logic, such as it is, the answer's right there in front of you. I don't have any qualms about pissing you off because I know you don't have murder in mind. If you did...'

He shrugs, which might imply he'd behave himself more if he thought there was actual risk. Then again, it's Jim. There's a good chance he simply doesn't care.

"Can't remember. Probably." Vyvyan says.

"Anyway, I've got to go restock the van. See you later."

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just_cant_lose - 2018-11-30 22:34 (UTC) - Expand

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vyvyan - 2018-11-30 23:54 (UTC) - Expand

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