27-Action

[jimfromit]

[ In the corridors of floor six lurks a certain creepy Irishman. He's not dressed in his usual fine suits today, he's blending in with the plain clothes look and carrying a rucksack.

Of course he's not noticed, he's blending in like an ordinary face in the crowd. It makes him feel dirty...looking so ordinary and average but it's a necessary evil.

It's not long before he finds door 620...the home of Elizabeth Tudor, the first piece of his new game.

Picking the lock is so easy he could do it in his sleep. Moriarty wished there was sombody else he could pay to do this but with the castles unpredictable nature towards its tenants there really wasn't anybody he could count on.

Oh how he would kill for a Moran around here.

Getting back to the matter in hand he sucessfully breaks in. After taking a minute to admire the decor of one of England's greatest monarchs he removes an item from his rucksack and puts it on a table in plain sight.

It's a model replica of Sir Francis Drake's ship "The Golden Hind" except there is something off about it...there's something almost mechanical about it.

Moriarty hides in the shadows of the room and waits for it's occupant to return home.]

Comments

[commandsthewind]

[Elizabeth's days, as always in this place, meandered as they didn't in court. Court, for all it's finery, it's beauty, had a structure order. If only for the Cooks sake. Spending her own days at her leisure was... strange. The empty mornings were followed by empty afternoons.

But certainly not unwelcome, if exceedingly dull. Well, when she wasn't apparently being a dragon. But that was as it was, at least every other day was an assassination attempt. There was no small amount of joy in that.

It could be unpredictable, but most days weren't and there hadn't been anything else happening at the moment. So the ship in her room was... odd.

She knew this room too well for it not to stand out, and it hadn't been there when she left for her morning ride. Perplexed, she came closer to it, setting down her coat against the chill of winter, continuing to stare longer. Poisoning happened less often here, it was true, but a life time of having these attempts made her cautious even when she wasn't being paranoid about the very air she breathed.]

Now which fey brought you here...?

[jimfromit]

[And the fish takes the bait.

Of course he's not silly enough to rely on a timed mechanism to deliver the punch line...why leave anything to chance?

Jim is a remote control type of guy.

When Elizabeth gets closer to his present he pushes a button on the side of his watch. Upon doing so the ship makes a clinking sound before the mouth of the figurehead opens and starts to produce this strange gas that quickly fills the room.

Are you starting to feel sleepy your majesty?]

[commandsthewind]

[Well, that wasn't good.

Elizabeth's eyes widened and she startled back immediately. Holding the heavy heavy material of her sleeves to her face, breathing through that to keep out the best.

Air she needed air. There was more than one kind of poison, she knew. They'd tried to kill her at one point or another with enough of them. But this she needed air for it. Which she wasted no time to stumble towards her closed door, moving quickly as she could even though her whole body wanted to sink down.]

[jimfromit]

[Oh such a fighter...everything the history books said she was.

Jim already had his gas mask on. He lunges at her from the shadows. Holding her arms and staring into her slowly fading eyes through his mask.

No clue to his identity aside from his cold brown eyes.]

[commandsthewind]

[No. Not this again. Never this again. She couldn't bare this, how many eyes of men had she'd looked into, at one point or another.

To hell with all of them, none of them would ever succeed. Not really. She was a queen, she was eternal, they could kill her body. But they would never kill her name.

But this didn't feel like death, this felt like something else. Just quiet numbness that seemed so hard to fight. Weakly she struggled, trying to twist in his grip.] G-God...

[God keep her, God protect her. From whatever the hell this was. There wouldn't be any peace, this drowsiness of her mind and limbs was no comfort. The small, dim part of her mind knew whatever would follow would be hell, but at least, hopefully, not war this time.]

[jimfromit]

[At the point he's confident the gas has taken a hold of her he lets go, takes a step back and admires his handiwork.

This wasn't anything personal Elizabeth...you're just the right piece for the right game.

He tilts his head before giving her a little creepy wave as she hits the floor.]