Remember Me

[Billy Baker]

{ OOC: This sucks a lot. But it get better soon, like always. XD I have no idea how early watchmakers used to get up, but it doesn't matter I guess. This is supposed to be set somewhere in 1800, maybe in the middle.}

The man walked down the street, hands in his pockets. It was bloody 6 AM, he knew that, but he just couldn't get any more sleep. He was a watchmaker and never had to get up much earlier than nine, so this bothered him. He'd never been much of a morning person.

'Well, no use in whining about it. I better make the best of it and order some gin and tonic,' Billy thought.

Billy Baker entered the shabby little pub, located near a dark, uninviting alley but nevertheless his favourite. The pub wasn't located in the alley, but it still had a bad reputation of being a nest for shady people. Billy was probably one of them.When he entered the place two old men hurried past him and out the door, slamming it nervously behind them. He smiled and snorted as he moved towards his usual table, which had been occupied by the two men earlier.

No one knew about Billy's little hobby of murdering people, but there was something about him that made people feel uneasy. It was partly his eyes fault - since eyes tell a lot about the person - but it was also his way of moving, speaking... He just didn't feel right.
Billy sat down at the table, which was located in a corner. It had a great view over the street. He glanced out on the street, but it was very desolate at this time, and then looked around the pub; there were only two other customers there, by a table on the other side of the room. He ordered what he wanted and then continued to watch the street.

Recently he'd felt that someone was watching him and it had made him nervous. Sure, he was fairly well-known, and it was nothing weird to have a feeling of being watched since many people stared at him while he walked down the streets of London, for whatever reasons they might have.
But this was different. This was not just someone who fancied his looks, someone who found him eerie or someone who loathed his guts. Maybe the latter one... but it was still much different. Billy did not know why it was different, it was simply a feeling he had.

He laughed out loud and shook his head, then gulped down his gin and tonic.

"Please, another one! It's a mighty fine morning today, ain't it now?" He said and smiled at the waiter, who walked away from him as fast and politely he could. 'A great day to end someone's life, certainly.' He thought as he watched the 18-year old boy fetch more gin for him. Billy had observed this boy for a long time now and it was about time he did something. Murdering was the only thing that made him feel such a wonderful satisfaction, and that boy - Edgar Wood - was his next victim.

[Sherlock Holmes]

((OOC: Even though it is guessed that Holmes was born (as in, if he were a real person) in the 1850's, lets assume he's that much of a literary legend to time skip, along with Watson, who joins him here because you can't have one without the other.))

Holmes had seemed to have fallen asleep, his eyes closed as he sat at the table at the other side of the room. He was dressed to look like a haggard old man, who had seen much better days. He held an old, splintering pipe between his lips, even though no smoke rose up from it. I could tell that he was planning something-but why on Earth did it have to be here? And why at six in the morning? He told me to look the part he wanted me to play, and my lack of sleep easily showed that, as my eyes showed that-being bloodshot. He had given me some worn out clothes that I bet he had gotten from some beggar off the street, and yet oddly they fit fine. This place disturbed me, and yet I tried not to act to nervous, and kept myself watching Holmes, yawning and nodding off a few times.

"Don't fall asleep, sir." Holmes startled me causing to wake up and almost falling out of my chair. His voice was not that of Sherlock Holmes, but that of some foreigner. Irish? American? Scottish? I really couldn't tell, but it wasn't English that was I was sure of. "We'll 'ave to be gon' soon-can't stay in one place to long, anymore. I bet we're being watched 'ight now-in fact." I tried my best not to raise an eyebrow at Holmes' odd words. I simply blinked, and tried to fall asleep again. A few moments of peaceful slumber passed, before Holmes jumped out of his chair-knocking it to the ground-and diving at me from the other end of the able, shaking my by the shoulders, "idiot, I need you awake!" Holmes glanced over at the other figure in the bar, and over at the waiter, as if he had just come back to reality.

"Sir-what is the matter?" I heard the waiter speak, and Holmes returned to his chair, grumbling and swearing as if we-or I-had done something wrong. "Nah---nothin' someone like you could 'elp with, anywho." Holmes took his worn pipe out of his mouth, and looked out the window, blinking angrily, and ignoring both of us as if we didn't exist. "Is he always this way?" The waiter was referring to me, and he seemed nervous about Holmes.
I quickly realized my position in the matter, and played the part as well as I could, "I couldn't tell ya. He's half mad, half drunk-dragging me to this ruin of a place in the early morn."
"So you don't know him?" He seemed very confused, and I was quickly growing nervous that I was blowing my cover.
"He's a bumblin' idiot, that 'swat, boot him out then! He hasn't ordered anything in a while, he's surly just loafing aroun', like the fool he is."
Holmes' rage continued, and I left-with the waiter being as kind as he could about it. I stood outside the pub, glancing back in at the other figure who had been in the place-he was certainly an odd figure, the place seemed deserted with him in there. I yawned again, hoping Holmes would hurry up with his little charade.

[Billy Baker]

{ OOC: Maybe he has time travelling powers, heh. It'll be a challenge to write in Irish accent without sounding too stupid... but I will try. I don't want to make it... over-obvious that he's Irish, you know? XD; }

Billy had almost fallen into a sort of trance while contemplating certain... matters, but the noise coming from the other side of the room disturbed him, and made him grumpy. However he didn't complain just yet, but listened to the voices that spoke. It was fairly easy to hear what they said because of the pub being so empty, but what they spoke about was of no interest. Drunkards, he thought with despise which was quite hypocritical of him seeing as he drank quite a lot, quite often but no, he was no drunkard. Not in his point of view, anyway, which was a pretty twisted point of view.

He heard how the men spoke in Irish accents - Billy was a smart one, but he didn't think a single thought about their accents being fake, maybe because of the alcohol, maybe because he was at times a little too inattentive - and raised his eyebrows over his unpleasant eyes. They were unpleasant because it was so very hard to make out what was hiding inside them - and therefore what hid inside Billy's mind. The only thing one could make out was that it was nothing pleasant that hid inside that man.
Only unpleasant. Always.
Now he glared over at the men, snorting at the way they acted and he had enough time to start fantasize about them, while one of them went out the door. He glanced over at the one who had been left alone and Billy let his imagination run, but then had to stop because the waiter came up to him. He wondered for a split second if he should swear at the boy for disturbing his peace, or something similar, but didn't. He didn't want to ruin anything after all, now would he?

"Sir, do you want something more?" the waiter asked and Billy squinted his eyes. This boy was green and too naive, one could almost pity him but only almost. Billy saw it as something positive, "No, it's...", but then he stopped as a plan formed inside his skull, "Actually, would you order something strong for the man over there? The price doesn't matter, I can pay. Give me some more gin too, but just a little - I have work today and I have to be able to tinker with them watches without barfing up my breakfast on them ye know?" he said and laughed rather loudly (a very unpleasant sound, that was), "Put my glass over at his table please."

Billy got up and walked over to Sherlock, touching the brim of his bowler hat with his fingertips as a part of his greeting, and said; "Hello, what's the story wit'ye?" and he sat down at the chair which had earlier been occupied by the other man, "Pardon me, but I just had to come have a chat with ye. I happened to overhear yous - ye and that other one - an' couldn't help meself. I don't meet many Irish people around these parts, but maybe I look in the wrong places,"
he said and smiled briefly and glanced at the waiter that came with their glasses, and nodded towards Sherlock's which was filled with some shady looking drink, which looked like it could give you a hangover for at least a few months, "Drink up, it's on me."

Billy thought this would be a good plan, making this man drunk so that he would either pass out, or get his senses dulled, if even just slightly. But the man outside was a problem, not too big, he thought, but still an annoying problem.

"What's yar name? Mine's Caleb Walker, nice to meet'ye." Billy said, lying through his teeth as he was used to. He didn't mind using his Irish accent; it created an excuse for him to come talk to this man. He weren't afraid of someone from his former life to be able to recognize him, no, not really, but it had felt better to learn oneself to speak more like a regular London-citizen.
And if Billy got his way, he would probably never have to see this man ever again anyway.

[Sherlock Holmes]

((OOC: Thank goodness Sherlock likes strong drinks haha. XD, I'll have a table for Sherlock soon. If you want one for Billy just say so. And, yes, both of Sherlock's names are Irish, and I just had to pick Doyle.))


I waited a few more minutes before looking back in at the window, where I saw the stranger talk to our waiter. I wasn't sure exactly what was going to happen, really. I bet he was going to complain, or maybe try to work something up against Holmes. I sighed, what was the point of this? It was so early, what crime would be committed in an empty area, this early in the morning? I shook my head, and when I looked back again, the man was now sitting over with Holmes.

"Hello, what's the story wit'ye? Pardon me, but I just had to come have a chat with ye. I happened to overhear yous - ye and that other one - an' couldn't help meself. I don't meet many Irish people around these parts, but maybe I look in the wrong places,"

Holmes turned his head and watched the other man, and blinked sleepily at him, listening to his every word. I could tell that the other man spoke with an accent, again, and accent I couldn't guess, but one that matched the one Holmes had, to say the least. Holmes then spoke, "Ah, 'tis fine. Ye don't meet many 'folk so early in the morn. See's, I'm hardly ever up t'is early. But, that man there-" Holmes drunkedly pointed to me, his hand wavering one way and this way, as he could not hold it straight, "is a whitness to a crime I 'ave wronfelly been accused of. So, in order to keep 'em silent, I'm takin' him alon' wit' me. Much easier to have a lookout, ain't it?"

"Drink up, it's on me."

I nearly gagged at the look of the drink. Surely Holmes wasn't about to drink it, was he? He knew better then to do that, whatever he was planning to do-it surely didn't have to go that far did it? I turned around and looked around again, not wanting to glance back to see Holmes drink the horrid thing.
"Ah, why not, eh?" Holmes took the drink to his lips, and took a god portion, which he swallowed-or at least, seemingly did. He seemed to gag, and almost cough, but he then shook his head, and simply continued, "'aven't had a drink like 'dat in a long time." Sherlock's eyes blinked, and he seemed to still gag on the drink, but otherwise was fine, as if the drink had yet to have any noticeable effect on him.

"What's yar name? Mine's Caleb Walker, nice to meet'ye."

Holmes nodded, and stated with a drunk air about him, "Meh names Urard Doyle, at yer service." Holmes said this with a straight face, picking out of thin air the first two Irish names he could think of, and lying quite magnificently. I had now turned to watch, and noted that this little talk was going to last a very long time, and I moaned at the thought. It was such a pointless act, and Holmes had done everything in his power to make me clueless on what we were doing, even though he told me one thing at least several hundred times, and that was to bring my revolver.

[Billy Baker]

{ OOC: It'd be nice with a table for Billy, yeah! :3 You could use this picture: http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y59/GinGi...ody-knife-2.jpg I dunno if this fits with the time period that he lives in, since the knife is rather modern... I'm no good at finding pictures. And lol, I have no idea if Caleb or Walker is particularly Irish or not, but it doesn't matter I guess. Caleb means 'dog' though, heh. Oh and did you mean "wrongly" instead of "wronfelly"? XD }


"Ah, 'tis fine. Ye don't meet many 'folk so early in the morn. See's, I'm hardly ever up t'is early. But, that man there- is a whitness to a crime I 'ave wronfelly been accused of. So, in order to keep 'em silent, I'm takin' him alon' wit' me. Much easier to have a lookout, ain't it?”

Billy glanced out at the man outside while listening to the seemingly drunken one’s burbling and nodded silently, "Guess so."

"Ah, why not, eh? ’ aven't had a drink like 'dat in a long time."

He watched the detective with much – though hidden behind an ingratiating smile - amusement. “’Tis good stuff. Best there is. Would’ve taken some meself but… I have job to do. No job no money, which means no booze on the weekends!” he said and ironically drank a little from his glass.

“Meh name’s Urard Doyle, at yer service.”

No bells rang at that name which was reassuring, so Billy felt that he could relax somewhat – but only ever so slightly, since he didn’t want to make any blunders. He wasn’t one to make them, he hadn’t made a mistake one single time before, and he'd do nearly anything to prevent making them. He had to be perfect.

“Ye said somethin’ ‘bout a crime? What crime have ye been accused of… if I may ask?” he asked, curious, “’Tis dangerous times, but I can keep me mouth shut, if ye’re afraid of me tellin'. Besides, I'll probably have forgotten that we’ve even met tomorrow morn'.” Billy said, laughing again. It was true that he was curious about what crime that this Urard could be accused of, since all things horrible made him excited, but mostly he just wanted to keep the conversation going. The sooner the old man passed out or fell asleep the better, or else he might have to do something drastic. He wouldn’t dare to kill Urard, not with the other man standing outside and the waiter nearby. Billy also knew that the pub's owner was there somewhere in the building.
They were dangerous people, Urard and his friend. Billy sensed it. He looked at Urard, feeling anxious but his face showing nothing else but apathy. Once again the strange feeling of being watched crept upon him, and it had to be that man. He wasn't watching Billy like an ordinary person would. Maybe he was imagining things... maybe he was just paranoid - no wonder considering the plot he had thought out and was about to carry out - but he only saw that as a strength.

[Sherlock Holmes]

{OOC: Lol, yes, that's what I meant. I noticed the typo, but then I was being lazy and decided it sound more..Irish-Accent-y(?). So I left it there.}

“’Tis good stuff. Best there is. Would’ve taken some meself but… I have job to do. No job no money, which means no booze on the weekends!”

Sherlock no doubt knew what he was doing; it wasn't hard to see. However, I had no idea what was going on from being left outside, and was becoming increasingly irritated at Holmes simply because he just wasn't hurrying up. I didn't like the look of the other man, but it was probably just because anyone who gets up this early to drink must surely be-it then dawned on me exactly why Holmes was here, and that made me panic. What was I supposed to be doing? If the other man in there was a criminal of some sort, and Holmes seemed to be getting on his good side, then who was I? I decided to simply turn away from the window again, and hope that something would somehow tell me what to do and how to act.

“Ye said somethin’ ‘bout a crime? What crime have ye been accused of… if I may ask? ’Tis dangerous times, but I can keep me mouth shut, if ye’re afraid of me tellin'. Besides, I'll probably have forgotten that we’ve even met tomorrow morn'.”

"Ah-well, then, I bets I can trust ya-" Sherlock leaned over the table, and looked at Billy square in the eye with one of his eyes-a look that seemed to be something along the lines of Holmes being a drunk, and Holmes being crazy as if he had actually done something, he leaned back, nodding to himself before he spoke. "Murder. 'Course its not a hard thin' to guess."
I turned around again, was this other man catching on? I bet he had some sort of feeling that something was out of place, but it had to be my doing as I stood out there, turning and looking around every few minutes. While, Holmes, simply sat there and ranted on about something-it seemed fairly easy, but I knew it was all carefully constructed.

"And, sense you said yah won't remember-" Holmes continued, "I guess I could tell yah who I am accused of murderin'." Holmes paused for a moment, and leaned back in his chair, taking another sip of the horrible drink and then was suddenly thrown into a horrible gaging fit, which naturally caught my attention. It looked real, and I noticed that Holmes had gaged in my direction-or at least toward the direction of the window. Did he want me to re-enter? Whether or not he did, I quickly walked in as Holmes quickly regained his composure-well, to a more or less extent as the drink smelled horrid from the moment I re-entered.
"Ah-there yah are again," Holmes aid to me, as if in anger, "Come 'ere a moment-this here is-a Mr. Walker." I walked over to Holmes as he introduced me to his 'friend', "And, because you've ben' so damn good at lookin' out for meh, I'd like to give you some of this 'ere drink." he handed me the drink, and when I picked it up to drink it, I heard Holmes continue to Walker, as if I was not there.


"Where was I?" He said-"oh, yes, yes-the murder, right?" He smiled, somewhat, and seemed to be hit with laughter, and then he said, shaking his head, "funniest name I ever 'eard," He then looked up and said, under bits of laughter, "'name was Billy Baker." That name-I wondered where I had heard it before, and something told me the other man knew too. I took a sip of the awful drink, and swallowed it even though it almost made me sick right on the spot.

[Billy Baker]

I turn away from what you are Denying all that you have given (OOC: Haha, I see then! ) I find a place that's safe and far In time all will be forgiven "Ah-well, then, I bets I can trust ya- Murder. 'Course its not a hard thin' to guess. And, sense you said yah won't remember-I guess I could tell yah who I am accused of murderin'." Billy nodded. Murder, that was what he'd thought - little surprise there - and he was eager to hear the name of the person. He watched in enjoyment as Urard gagged on the drink, and shortly after that the other man came in, probably out of concern Billy thought. The man looked ridiculously out of place inside the pub and he seemed rather anxious, but maybe that was to be expected since his friend was accused of murder, and he was the lookout. It wasn't odd of him to be on edge but there were certainly something that was odd about it all. "Ah-there yah are again. Come 'ere a moment-this here is-a Mr. Walker. And, because you've ben' so damn good at lookin' out for meh, I'd like to give you some of this 'ere drink." The looks that the man gave the drink was even more amusing than how Holmes had gagged, but Billy nodded politely towards the man. He thought the man looked better suited to drink a cup of tea, but nevertheless he said, "Drink it all up, now," and smiled a smile that was meant to be mildly teasing, but in reality looked rather sadistic, "Nice meetin' ye, mister...?" "Where was I? oh, yes, yes-the murder, right? funniest name I ever 'eard, 'name was Billy Baker." He had to use all his will power in order to contain himself, but even someone who've spent the majority of their life lying and deceiving can sometimes fail (though he never would admit) - the right corner of his mouth twitched, but he took that to an advantage and smiled, making it seem like he couldn't stop himself from being amused by the name either. Billy smiled, showing off all of his pedantically clean, but crooked, teeth and snorted mockingly at his own name - it irritated him that Holmes was actually laughing at his name, he didn't like being laughed at, but he had to put up a facade. The possibility that he was talking about another Billy Baker was rather small after all. He remembered himself that it wasn't the name he was initially born with, but it was difficult since he identified himself much more with "Billy Baker" than the name that had been given to him by... whoever had given him his name. Probably some of the filthy ladies at the orphanage. How he loathed them all. He almost got side-tracked by his own thoughts, as he often did while thinking about things that he hated, but he pushed them away. " Bloody 'ell, that be some foul name," he said, his accent growing thicker, his pace growing faster, making it more difficult to hear what he said, "Makes ye' wonder what kinda ma' 'e had, givin' 'im a name like 'at," Billy Baker said, finishing his drink.

[Sherlock Holmes]

((OOC: Still no table, haha))

" Bloody 'ell, that be some foul name, Makes ye' wonder what kinda ma' 'e had, givin' 'im a name like 'at,"

Holmes continued to chuckle at the name. I had never known Holmes to laugh, but again I had never seen Holmes in action as he played his little acting games. I certainly didn't notice anything wrong with this guy, but certainly Holmes must have. The name seemed like something Holmes picked out of thin air, and in fact I had never heard of the name in my life. It was quite a silly name, and so while Holmes and..the other man laughed at it, so did I. Not quite noticing the danger which Holmes had thrown us into.

Holmes had noticed everything that Billy had let slip. He watched the lip twitch under the cover of glazed, drunken eyes. He listened as the accent got thicker, and Billy spoke faster. "Yeh seem a bit excited." Holmes mused out loud, still in the accent and still in a somewhat drunken atmosphere. "Would yeh like anot'er drink then, Mr. Walker?" Holmes said, still chuckling drunkenly at the name in between his words. "You-" Holmes spoke to me, "buy 'em anot'er drink, right??" I nodded, and set the ungodly drink down and called the waiter over. In a few minutes, another drink was set down before Mr. Walker. "See-they accuse meh of such a crime. But sees-why would I kill someone with such a name, eh? I'd rather see 'em suffer!" Holmes picked up the sickening drink and took a large gulp of it down without a second thought. I began to wonder if he had certainly lost his mind.

"Sees-" Holmes continued, "this man 'ere, well yeh know where he comes in. Witness. Don't yeh suppose he could tell yah more 'bout the crime?" Holmes looked at me again, but when I did not respond, he grew angry, "Now when I ask yeh to speak, you stay silent you Unruly Tramp you." Holmes then continued, "'guess it makes no difference what happened to a man named that. His passin' just gives us a new outlet to poke a little fun at 'em, and to think-to think! He'll never know, I 'onder whats worse, Mr. Walker." I was certainly lost, for each passing second that Holmes stayed here, became another second that I thought Holmes had surely lost his senses.

[Billy Baker]

I turn away from what you are Denying all that you have given (OOC: XD Ah... my posts seems so long lol.) I find a place that's safe and far In time all will be forgiven "Yeh seem a bit excited." Holmes then asked if he'd like another drink, and he made the other man order a drink for Billy. He scratched the back of his head and sighed. "It's the alcohol I reckon. I can get a bit over excited when I've 'ad a lot. I can control it fairly well, but not all the time y'know." he said and pretended to be a little embarrassed over his behaviour. He spoke lies. "Me accent becomes more apparent too. Livin' in London for so long made it disappear rather well. But it will always be there. It will never go away completely." He had watched the drink and thanked for it. Surely it was tempting. He couldn't turn down such an offer but he didn't feel very inclined to drink any more, so he just sipped a little from the glass, acting as if he was too caught up with what Holmes was saying to drink. He didn't want to get too drunk, then he wouldn't feel much excitement when the time came. Holmes babbled some more, but Billy barely took any notice to most of it. " 'guess it makes no difference what happened to a man named that. His passin' just gives us a new outlet to poke a little fun at 'em, and to think-to think! He'll never know, I 'onder whats worse, Mr. Walker." Billy looked at the man and smiled - angry inside but not allowing himself to show it - and reached down to his coat pocket and withdrew a fancy looking cigar from it. He lit it and inhaled its poisonous smoke, felt it enter his lungs. Such pleasure, a horrible pleasure in a way... but according to him, horrible pleasures were the best. He looked at Watson and smiled at him as well, then exhaled the smoke. He didn't do it into Watson's face, but nearly. He had let out a great deal of smoke that spread across the table. "O-oh, that was thoughtless of me... You have to excuse me, I hope you don't mind me smokin'?" he asked but not expecting an answer, not really caring. Billy had realised his mistakes. He had made them. Small - he tried to convince himself that they weren't fatal, at least - but nevertheless... Well, even the sun has its dark spots. Yes... they hadn't been bad. He hadn't lost. He shouldn't have said anything about his occupation. Billy regretted that, and some other things. But no use in regretting it now, he had to continue. "... Anyway. I don't think there's much worse than 'at, no," he pressed his lips hard around the cigar, it made him calm. It was like a baby's pacifier, it was pathetic. He inhaled, then exhaled, "Though I guess he couldn't 'elp it. He didn't choose his name, or did he?" he said, grinning.