true to the canon, i want jim to be this like brilliant scholar who writes papers and does absurd math problems and shit when he's not blowing things up and/or flirting with sherlock
"Terminal property": I suspect it's halfway that Jim just likes to consider John both 'terminal' and 'his property,' as it were, but there's also a rather roundabout mathematical way that this can symbolize, "there is only one way this can end..."
Fill 4/? - Zero Sum Game
anonymous
July 8 2011, 17:07:32 UTC
He’s lying back on a luxurious couch, fingers barely gripping the edges of his book, when someone comes to report to him that Sherlock has received his message
( ... )
Fill 5/? - Zero Sum Game
anonymous
July 9 2011, 19:11:24 UTC
The drive to Cambridge is an hour and a half; Sherlock pays a cabbie triple fare to make it in an hour. Jim grins at that, decides not to let anyone touch John for those extra thirty minutes, just because it makes Sherlock’s expenditures pointless.
That Sherlock has gone to Cambridge for assistance is especially pleasing to him; he remembers watching the detective (well, not a detective then, of course) out of the corner of his eye in lectures, thrilling to the realization that he was not the only one for whom all of this was simple, stupid, boring. He had shifted his position from the far rear of the lecture halls to fourth row, centre aisle, directly behind Sherlock, so that he could watch over his shoulder, read his notes. It turned out Sherlock didn’t take notes, just like Jim; the writing on his papers dealt with science, logic, murder. Kindred spirit, or so he thought, but Jim already knew some things could not be spoken aloud
( ... )
fff, sorry. I'll have another section right away - only it became necessary for a brief amount of time to do my own research instead of Jim's. Back to Jim's tomorrow.
Fill 6/? - Zero Sum Game
anonymous
July 14 2011, 20:01:24 UTC
He can see his old publications flitting across the screen, see them pause every so often, pull a relevant reference and keep that open as well. It’s a little irritating, not knowing why they’re choosing the papers they are (what is it like in their tiny little brains? it must be so confusing), but he watches nonetheless as they move back and back through the list of everything he’s written.
He hasn’t wanted to leave any traces, which means staying out of the systems controlled by… certain branches of the government… but eventually the inability to watch begins to wear on him. That’s the best part, after all, and so he gives in to the temptation, types a few terse commands, back-hacks through the reverse Turing test system (CAPTCHA; the idea is brilliant, but is quickly falling to the rapidity of technological development) and locates a camera outside a window
( ... )
Thanks awfully. Sorry this has slowed right down, but I had to go and put a bloody plot in it, and now look what's happened. In any case, I've got a lovely information-theoretyheavy monograph that might make a bit of story over the next couple of days.
Fill 7/? - Zero Sum Game
anonymous
July 18 2011, 16:21:18 UTC
What Jim enjoys the most is seeing when Sherlock finally has the rough outlines of his entire cipher, because that means he’s gotten to the beginning, means he’s working on the last bit… means he’s found his own name, written there in numbers shifted by a VIC cipher - a paper no one understood, of course, because the variables made no sense. Jim knows the real solution to the problem posed in his hypothesis; he’s used it since, to publish further papers, to make advancements in a field that is still nascent (not really, Jim’s developed it quite far, but no one else has managed yet to understand at all).
The Nihilist ciphers are favourites of his, despite their obsolescence, because he can create by hand in them, and he loves to create by hand. Sherlock can crack them, too, or should be able to, and that’s the key, of course - that Sherlock focuses his full attention on Jim’s work, only to find this last, delicious fragment of information, this is your fault, you could have stopped thisJim grows bored, goes down to the basement, and
( ... )
Fill 8/? - Zero Sum Game
anonymous
July 19 2011, 20:40:36 UTC
“What did you say?”
“I said - that Sherlock - isn’t like you…”
“You said axiom of separation.”
“If you already knew, then - ” John’s speech still punctuated with laboured breathing, “why did you ask?”
“Water,” Jim snaps in Moran’s direction, not even looking to see if the order is followed. “What did you mean?”
John smiles, slowly, lazily, but it’s a product of the drugs they’ve given him, and not his own innate inclinations. “You said paradox,” he says, “and I resolve it.”
“Axiom of extensionality,” says Jim. “I have you now, and Sherlock has nothing left that I can’t take.”
The water appears at his elbow, Sebastian’s face a rictus of disgust - is Jim actually talking to this drab little man, only interesting in what comes from him, the blood, the noises? - and Jim gives some to John. Not much, not quite enough, but it will keep him talking.
When he drinks, John coughs. “Axiom of regularity. No matter how hard you try - ”
Jim nods to Sebastian, and the blond-haired man steps forward and hits John.
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I adore Jim's method of thanking Seb. And the special fountain pen.
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That Sherlock has gone to Cambridge for assistance is especially pleasing to him; he remembers watching the detective (well, not a detective then, of course) out of the corner of his eye in lectures, thrilling to the realization that he was not the only one for whom all of this was simple, stupid, boring. He had shifted his position from the far rear of the lecture halls to fourth row, centre aisle, directly behind Sherlock, so that he could watch over his shoulder, read his notes. It turned out Sherlock didn’t take notes, just like Jim; the writing on his papers dealt with science, logic, murder. Kindred spirit, or so he thought, but Jim already knew some things could not be spoken aloud ( ... )
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He hasn’t wanted to leave any traces, which means staying out of the systems controlled by… certain branches of the government… but eventually the inability to watch begins to wear on him. That’s the best part, after all, and so he gives in to the temptation, types a few terse commands, back-hacks through the reverse Turing test system (CAPTCHA; the idea is brilliant, but is quickly falling to the rapidity of technological development) and locates a camera outside a window ( ... )
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Is.
Amazing.
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(Don't give me math equations when I'm responding to this story, Mycroft, that's just creepy.)
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The Nihilist ciphers are favourites of his, despite their obsolescence, because he can create by hand in them, and he loves to create by hand. Sherlock can crack them, too, or should be able to, and that’s the key, of course - that Sherlock focuses his full attention on Jim’s work, only to find this last, delicious fragment of information, this is your fault, you could have stopped thisJim grows bored, goes down to the basement, and ( ... )
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“I said - that Sherlock - isn’t like you…”
“You said axiom of separation.”
“If you already knew, then - ” John’s speech still punctuated with laboured breathing, “why did you ask?”
“Water,” Jim snaps in Moran’s direction, not even looking to see if the order is followed. “What did you mean?”
John smiles, slowly, lazily, but it’s a product of the drugs they’ve given him, and not his own innate inclinations. “You said paradox,” he says, “and I resolve it.”
“Axiom of extensionality,” says Jim. “I have you now, and Sherlock has nothing left that I can’t take.”
The water appears at his elbow, Sebastian’s face a rictus of disgust - is Jim actually talking to this drab little man, only interesting in what comes from him, the blood, the noises? - and Jim gives some to John. Not much, not quite enough, but it will keep him talking.
When he drinks, John coughs. “Axiom of regularity. No matter how hard you try - ”
Jim nods to Sebastian, and the blond-haired man steps forward and hits John.
“Gently,” comes a ( ... )
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