An independent roleplay and ask blog for Richard Brook. Will interact with anyone from any fandom.
M!A: None, but accepting.
Tracked tag: storiesbybrook
Both mun and muse are of age.
This blog does have NSFW content.
The photos, images, songs and gifs...
He grabbed his instrument and began to pluck at it as his mind was racing already, drug searing through him as this new turn of events came to him. “Hmm… Yes, indeed.” His eyes narrowed some, thinking intensifying. “One visit will not be enough for me to do what is needed. I’m sure you can give me enough information-but Moriarty is probably already counteracting ways of stopping whatever you may tell me. Leaving would prove to be your death-so, sadly, you must stay under my watch until I finish the job. He won’t kill me-not yet at least. Plus, this will be too interesting and fun for him to pass up. That is his weakness.”
Frankly he hadn’t the foggiest clue what he was going to do once he left Baker street, he certainly didn’t think he’d be able to continue living at his current flat… But staying here? “Excuse me?” He didn’t even have any of his things here… and what about his job? He had auditions and – He really hadn’t thought this through had he… “I’m not staying here.” Richard couldn’t possibly stay here… too many factors didn’t fit in. Besides, didn’t Sherlock grasp that he practically invited the twin brother of the most wanted criminal in London to flat share? Not to mention Sherlock was a complete stranger.
Well, this was definitely a different job than usual. No killing targets from afar, no cleaning up bodies after others. No. Keeping an eye on the boss’ brother. It was different, but Severin surely wasn’t complaining. It was an easy job. Sure, it took him a lot of time and he had to be careful but it was the easiest thing in a long while.
The man made a mental note to thank his boss and most likely his brother as well for this. For now, he needed to keep his mind at the guy he was following. The bloke was called Richard and all Severin had found out was that he was so terribly mundane. He couldn’t believe that this was Jim Moriarty’s twin. They were nothing alike. Sighing deeply, he casually followed him from a decent distance.
Severin did not realize that the other was on to him. To be honest, he had thought he was doing a marvelous job and that he would never be noticed. Suddenly, Richard picked up his pace, Severin did so too. Maybe the guy needed to go to the bathroom badly or remember he needed to make a phonecall. It didn’t even cross his mind that Richard might feel a bolt of fear because he was being followed.
It was rather dark and cold that night, people going to warmer places. The streets were slowly getting more empty and quiet. Curiosity spiked when Richard unexpectedly turned into an alley. That was odd. The past few days they had taken the same route every time. They were relatively close to the flat so it was unusual for Richard to not continue his way. That, and it was dangerous for thin framed, unarmed young men to walk through alleys like that at a time like this.
Severin jogged after him and went around the corner. No Richard to be seen. Confused, he walked a few steps deeper into the alley. When he passed the inlet where Richard was waiting in, he felt both incredible relief and some kind of horrible dread. He stood there, awkwardly, for a good long moment before he scratched the back of his head and mumbled a hello. “So. Uhm. This is awkward. I-.. guess I shall be going now. Don’t stay in here too long, it’s not safe.” Dreading an angry call of either Jim or his brother, he turned around and walked out of the alley.
However, he couldn’t really leave. It was his job to stay near the man, so he waited next to the entrance for Richard to start moving and go home again. Severin was having an internal reprimand- where his mind scolded him for being so uncareful and blunt- when he heard a sound behind him coming from the ally.
The young man coming into view was, needless to say, not what Richard had expected. A thick muscled man with a rough face and gruffy voice, perhaps… but a slender framed, youthful faced man muttering a surprised ‘hi’ was not what he had pictured.
“Hi…” The actor found himself murmuring back, doe eyes blinking at the man. His brow furrowed as the other continued to talk. Not safe? The guy who had been stalking him for however many days, who did god only knew what for his brother – who just so happened to be the criminal mastermind in all of London and most of Europe – was talking to him about safety?
Right, so not a murdering pedophile who kidnapped people… Still a right weirdo though.
Richard wasn’t in the mood to chat, especially with a man assigned to keep tabs on him and report to brother dearest. All he wanted to do was work: go to auditions, get a job, act. Wasn’t that simple enough? Why was it Jim felt the need to uproot that whenever he found himself finally finding a normal routine?
Without another word to the other man, he turned and moved back down the alley to the other end. Though with the quick movements and slippery pavement it was easy for the actor to lose his footing. Falling was perhaps not the most common thing for someone trained in physical movement to do, but at least he went down gracefully, landing on his arse rather than his face.
If it wasn’t cold enough being early evening in London, it certainly was now with wet trousers. He’d somehow managed to scrap his knee on his way down too. Great, what a way to top off a completely rubbish day.
Pushing himself up quickly, Richard cleared his throat and hurriedly made his way home as if nothing happened; he refused to look back at the man he was sure was still following him – most likely laughing at him now. He was so done with the day. He was going home, taking a nice hot shower and crawling into bed.
Upon arriving back at his flat, that was exactly what Richard did, he stripped his clothes and tossed them into the hamper – glad to be rid of the sticking jeans – and made a bee line for the shower. He only took the time to change into a pair of loose pajama bottoms before making his way into the kitchen. His stomach had been growling at him all through his shower and it wasn’t until he started drying off that he realized he had missed lunch.
Of course he knew-but getting the exact information and seeing if this was one of Moriarty’s plans was far more important. Obviously, this wasn’t. Nervous, scared, anxious-yes, the signs of truth were all there. “He’ll come after you, you know. Jail won’t save you, nor will protective custody. Turning yourself in is a deathwish, so also wishing to stop him is a impossibility. Now-obviously after he is dead; You can go about with the trails and dull stuff saying you were forced-which is easily believed considering your record and his. But if you want to stop him, than you’ll have to stop being dull with this turning yourself in lark and think.”
“Mister Holmes, I signed my death order the moment I stepped through your doorway.” He was sure Jim knew by now. The clock was ticking, his brother wouldn’t be pleased – and that was putting it mildly. Dead? There was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t really want Jim dead just… stopped. “I am thinking.” Richard looked up, dark eyes meeting the other man’s. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
It just keeps getting better. What a grand day this was turning out to be. “For what, pray tell?” He mused, leaning back with a raise of his brows in question, motioning for the other to come sit across from him. “And you do know I just solve crimes-I don’t do the arresting. Not as fun.”
“For acting as my brother a few times…” Wasn’t knowing about crimes technically a crime? Richard moved to take a seat across from the detective, “I know.” The actor nodded adamantly, “But that’s the point.” He would have thought for all his brother went on about Sherlock Holmes it all would have been obvious to someone like him. “You solve the crimes, not the Yard. I’m turning myself in to you,” Richard nodded towards the taller man. “Because only you can catch my brother. It’s not enough that I do time, I have to help put a stop to it….” He looked down, doe eyes locked on his hands which were picking at one another in his lap. “He’s hurt people…” His voice was barely above a whisper.
He went and sat in his chair, locking his fingers together as he watched the other intently-the meth and heroine coursing through his blood now but not enough for him to be lost. Just enough to keep him calm and not bored.
He muttered, before turning his head and raising a brow. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure? I do hope you know I don’t like autographs or watch plays or telly.”
Richard shifted in the doorway, briefly wondering if he should remain there or officially enter the flat. With just another moment of hesitation he moved forward, stopping just outside the sitting area. "No, I didn’t figure.“ Somehow he thought his brother and Sherlock Holmes would have more in common than either would care to admit.
Music drummed through the speakers so loudly the floor shook and the walls vibrated as the lights flashed. The group he was with cheered as the tall blonde they were with swayed her way off the stage, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she took her seat again. Richard had never been one for karaoke, but it was closing night and everyone wanted to go out for a cast party. Who was he to say no?
The Irish actor grinned at his costar who had muttered something he couldn’t make out whoever it was up there singing now. Another few sips and his drink was gone, alcohol burning down his throat and warming through his limbs.
Standing, Richard waved a hand at George, the guy next to him, before making his way towards to bar for another drink. “Yeah, hi.” He smiled, setting his empty cup down. “Another?” The barkeep took the dirty glass and got a fresh one to fill. While he received flack for it, Richard always preferred the mixed drinks. If he was going to drink something, he might as well enjoy the taste of it… even if there was still that alcoholic burning aftertaste.
