paradisalogs | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who: Conan and YOU
What: Nightmare
When: Now
Where: Inside Conan's mind

Conan gasps desperately for air as he skids around a corner, nearly falling into a puddle as he does so. He is barefoot and dressed in a hugely oversized pullover and jeans, the clothing obviously intended to be worn by someone twice his height. Blood is smeared halfway across his face, probably coming from a deep cut on his head.

His surroundings seem to be what you might expect from any alley on such a dark and rainy night. Dismal, dark and slick with rain. But there is something wrong about the perspective. Everything stretches high up into the sky, further than the eye can see in the darkness.

Carefully pulling up the trailing edges of his jeans, he presses himself up against the wall and listens for any sounds of pursuit.

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"What do you mean? Of course that's your name," Spike was getting the feeling maybe his friend had finally lost it.

He takes a step or two, pauses, and rolls his eyes.

That's how it's going to be, then.

He turns, and takes off after Shinichi at a jog.

Now that takes him by surprise.

He follows at a distance behind Conan. Whilst Paradisa likes to share the fun, it's also quick to share the danger too. Sometimes it never really leaves much time in between.

If this was the case he’d like to know exactly what he was up against.

Edited 2012-10-09 16:42 (UTC)

He keeps moving, trying to make up for his short legs and slower pace with unexpected moves through alleyways and small spaces.

"Actually I'm pretty sure I do," Dairine retorts, keeping pace with him. If it was dangerous around, she wanted... no, needed to know why. Otherwise she risked being a liability.

Edited 2012-10-09 01:22 (UTC)

"Don't be ridiculous. Why would I call myself something like that?" He was annoyed at the interruption to his plans.

Spike was getting very worried now. Maybe he had amnesia or something...though that wouldn't explain the sudden change in setting.

"I don't know, it's YOUR name."

The boy is clearly headed for the glow of a burning building a few blocks away. But he never makes it that far. Just as he reaches the street there is the sound of several more explosions nearby. He throws himself to the ground and rolls back to the alley as several bullets barely miss him.

"It is not."

"Then what is it?" Spike folds his arms. "Because when I last saw you, that was the name you were using."

"My name is Shinichi Kudo." He crosses his arms. "And I don't have time to deal with this."

"No, you just need to get out of here. I'm taking care of this."

He ducks onto a sidestreet.

Ok now he's getting annoyed. The castle yet again is violating his "Not getting his hands dirty".

He's taking cover by a side alley next to where Conan is. What was going on here? Had the castle sent him into Conans personal timeline?

"...Okay the castle has definitely done something weird to you," the dragon replied. "And WHY don;t you have time?"

Dairine follows him. What else is she supposed to do? It's not like she knows the area well enough to wander off on her own.

"And what a good job you're doing, bleeding all over the place," she quips, gesturing towards his head wound. Her concern dulls down what could have been very mean jab to light teasing. But Dairine's tone suddenly becomes sincere. "Look Conan, I know you're pretty independent. You're smart and a quick thinker -- I was too at your age, but even the most intelligent people sometimes need someone else to have their back."

"I already said."

He turns and starts walking away.

Conan is breathing hard and listening carefully. They had snipers. A 400 yard range if he remembered right. Which directions had the shots come from?

But even all his observational skill could give him any warning of the man in black coming up behind him who seizes him by the neck and pushes him up against the wall. As he does so he bends over and whispers something to Conan that makes him pale to an unhealthy degree.

Who would have thought that you could have survived as a child, detective.]

The snipers, the bombs...this has an air of familiarity to it.

He's joined up the dots now. With everything he's seen and experienced in Paradisa. It was always possible certain worlds might be...parallel to his own.

Conan was running from his version of Moriarty's network.

A smile appears on his face. He wants to know more. He wants to watch how it all transpires.

Yeah don't expect any help on this one Conan.

Spike frowns, and follows, keeping up as best he can.

"You still need to see a doctor!"

"That can wait for later." Conan waves dismissively as their surroundings melt away and reform into something entirely new. If Spike had been familiar with Conan's world, he might have recognized the observation deck of Touto Tower.

Conan blinks as his memories return. "Spike? What are you doing here?

Right now Moriarty's presence has mostly slipped Conan's mind. No, right now all of his attention is on Gin and calculating how to get out of this situation.

Quickly Conan goes through his options. There weren't may. His position prevented him from reaching his shoes or belt. His only chance was his wristwatch. But he couldn't forget that this person had proven himself to be at least partially immune to the sedative before. No, the belt would be better. But he needed a distraction to reach it.

He glares furiously at Gin as he racks his mind for an idea.

"So? What will you do to me?" He chokes as the hand on his throat tightens.

The little dragon looks around in confusion, where the heck are they even now?

"...Where'd that other place go?" he turns and smiles a little when Conan speaks however. "Oh hey you finally remember me!"

Conan might have given that statement more credit if he hadn't known for a fact that he was actually older than she was.

And he knew that she had no idea what she was asking to get involved with. This danger was his to deal with. He refused to expose anyone else to it.

"I don't need any help. I can handle this myself."

"Yeah, I-" He trails off as he recognizes the structure.

"How did we get here? I haven't been here since I was home."

He didn't really like to think about the last time he had been here. It had been one of the moments he still wasn't entirely sure how he had survived.

"You're...home?"

Spike has a bad feeling about this. A really, really bad feeling.

"A few minutes ago we were in some alley and you were talking about being poisoned and calling yourself by a whole other name."

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