Consulting Criminal

Jim Moriarty Trapped in the pocket world. And before you ask, yes, Jim Moriarty, like in the books.

[jcmesmcriarty-blog]

If pocket universes are like pockets... I wonder if we could turn this place inside out and dump everything out.

And where we’d end up then.

[jcmesmcriarty-blog]

//yey! That's great you're still into it! It gave Eve a chance to get better too! I have an idea for a starter, but if you have one feel free to go ahead if you wanted~

//Absolutely! I’ve been playing around with starter ideas but none of them are very good, do you mind starting?

[mycroftholmesworld]

Deal with the Devil

Time and circumstances turned enemies into friends and viceversa. Moriarty was one of his worst enemies, well he was even the only one he could remember, but here he was walking towards his cabin. Sure, this all situation wasn’t making Moriarty and Mycroft friends, but they had to work together now, thus the memory loss made Moriarty an Iceman’s ally and allies weren’t enemies. Moriarty was still an enemy though. This was complicated. Perhaps suits were the only thing in common between them.

Mycroft told to the other man that he owed him a favour and that this favour was very valuable, but in reality Mycroft couldn’t even remember how intelligent he was, however he had to be very smart because Moriarty accepted the deal. Mycroft understood that he was supposed to be very intelligent because of his surname and what he read in his blog…especially because of what he remembered from Moriarty’s life.

Mycroft walked out from his room and he was heading towards Moriarty’s cabin. Oh, right, the tiger. Mycroft sighed rolling his eyes. There weren’t noises or other signs that the tiger was near so Mycroft walked quickly to Moriarty’s room. Luckily, it seemed that the tiger decided to adventure in another part of the boat. Mycroft arrived at the right door so he knocked, but he just waited for few seconds before inviting himself in “Excuse me, Mr. Moriarty…” sarcastic tone “…but there is a tiger outside” Mycroft closed the door behind him observing the cabin. It had to be strange seeing him without an umbrella, especially seeing Mycroft so comfortable without an umbrella in his hand…it was one of the side effects of forgetting things.

[jcmesmcriarty-blog]

Jim was lying on his narrow bed, staring at the ceiling. He’d considered presenting himself more formally--in another world with a better setting, he would have. Theatrics were his thing. It was hard to find theatrics that worked in a small ship’s cabin, however, so he’d settled on his current position, feet propped up on the wall and hands laced behind his head. He rolled his eyes as Mycroft entered without waiting for an invitation. “You’ve foiled my plan. I was hoping it would find you.” He said in a dully sarcastic voice that mirrored Mycroft’s.”Mr. Moriarty though... I like it. Very formal.” Come to think of it, no one else used Mr. around him. He’d have to think on why that was later.

“You know, I once heard a joke about amnesia. I forgot how it goes, though.” Jim pulled his legs down and sat up. He smirked faintly as he regarded the eldest Holmes. He looked different than when last Moriarty had seen him. It was apparent that the memory loss had taken a toll. On the outside Mycroft was still cold and sarcastic, but Jim had to wonder how deeply that ran. Perhaps he would be able to find out, now that Mycroft had asked for his help to understand the internal clockwork of his head. Somewhere there was a broken gear that prevented the memories from ticking. And somewhere else there was one that worked, that still spilled out all the memories of Jim.

He’d been wondering how exactly he would help Mycroft remember ever since he’d agreed to help. And turning the possibilities of favors he could ask around and around in his head. Jim had decided eventually that the best approach was to figure out how the memories had been lost in the first place, and go from there. He had free access to play with Mycroft Holmes, who was suddenly at his mercy, and that was a delicious idea. The favor would keep, and when he needed it, he’d know.

Jim patted the bed next to him companionably and looked up at Mycroft with gleaming eyes. “Have a seat.” He offered. “Doctor Jim is in.” The slight mocking was always there in his voice, like background static in a slightly faded radio station.

[mycroftholmesworld]

Memory Loss.

[jcmesmcriarty-blog]

Aren’t we all attention seekers? Put people in a tiny world where their lives are at risk, give them phones, and what’s the first thing they start doing? Blogging about it. It’s so terribly human.

It’ll be quite a lot of debt, are you sure you’re going to come running when I snap my fingers? I’ll be ever so disappointed if you don’t, and it’s never good to make daddy disappointed.

There’s lots of things on this ship that make me curious. That’s the nature of this world. But yes, I’m curious. Mycroft lost his memories! Come see the eight wonder of the world–his empty head! Fascinating.

Clients? Well… not exactly. But you focus on your memories, I don’t feel like bragging just yet.

[mycroftholmesworld]

I need help to regain my memory, that’s why I’m blogging about it.

Please, don’t call yourself daddy is quite…repulsive.

Not just curious about my memories, but about yourself too. You should be curious about the fact that I remember you and you only. I hope that is not making you uneasy. Of course not.

Listen, Moriarty. If you don’t trust my word about the debt then trust this: I don’t want to survive, I want to live, but if I can’t have my memory back then it is just a matter of surviving and you should know very well how boring and futile it is.

I don’t just want to survive, Jim. I’ll repay my debt.

[jcmesmcriarty-blog]

Fine. I’m curious, I’ll help, blah blah blah. Don’t thank me, just see you keep your word.

Isn’t Sherlock the one that’s supposed to swoop in and save the day, while I watch with amusement? I can already tell this is going to be exhausting.

Stop by my cabin sometime, we’ll talk. If you can remember enough to find it, I suppose.

In the meantime, have fun surviving as you so dramatically emphasize it.

[mycroftholmesworld]

Memory Loss.

[jcmesmcriarty-blog]

Oh, look. At least you’ve retained your personality. Joy. Same old skeptical Ice Man.

What, you’re going to sic Sherlock on me? I’m terrified, really.

 Debts, however, I might be interested in. Granted you ever regain your memory, I’m not sure how useful you are like this. Can’t put ice back together once it’s shattered unless you melt it first. That’s what’s happening here–look at you, reaching out so desperately now that you’ve lost your dear, darling memories. Surround yourself in the people you used to remember, really open up for once in your life. Except it won’t work.

Maybe I’ll help you, though. Maybe. If I’m not busy with more important things. I have got a schedule to keep, you know.

[mycroftholmesworld]

Oh, you and your nicknames are always so charming.

No, but I remember how you are obsessed with him, writing his name all over the walls in your cell. It’s very telling and very showing, you are an attention seeker.

I’m not useful like this, instead I can be useful to you if I regain my memories because I always repay my debts, Moriarty.

Reaching out? I’m not reaching out to you. But, there must be a reason why you are the only person that I remember. Aren’t you curious, at the very least?

However, nice ice-reference, I’m the Iceman, I got it, that I remember. Probably, I remember it because it’s correlated to you.

You need time to mingling? Searching for new clients? My help is more valuable than some few clients that you could find here and you know it.

[jcmesmcriarty-blog]

Aren’t we all attention seekers? Put people in a tiny world where their lives are at risk, give them phones, and what’s the first thing they start doing? Blogging about it. It’s so terribly human.

It’ll be quite a lot of debt, are you sure you’re going to come running when I snap my fingers? I’ll be ever so disappointed if you don’t, and it’s never good to make daddy disappointed.

There’s lots of things on this ship that make me curious. That’s the nature of this world. But yes, I’m curious. Mycroft lost his memories! Come see the eight wonder of the world--his empty head! Fascinating.

Clients? Well... not exactly. But you focus on your memories, I don’t feel like bragging just yet.

[mycroftholmesworld]

Memory Loss.

[jcmesmcriarty-blog]

It’s raining, it’s pouring, the old man is snoring

he went to bed and he bumped his head

 and he couldn’t remember in the morning.

How did you manage to lose your memory, that’s what I’m wondering? I imagine it went something like that.

Weren’t those good times? Why do you like umbrellas, though? That’s a good question to start with. I’ve always thought it was to push people away. Your little hermit’s cave in a crowd full of people. Or maybe it’s just your horrible fashion sense and accessory choice. We might never know.

I don’t know why you remember me instead of everyone else–certainly not my choice. It’s probably fate, that’s it. We’re still relying very heavily on this could help you, though. I might be more interested in watching the old man bumble around, crying and moaning about everything he can’t remember.

[mycroftholmesworld]

Oh God. You are like this even with Sherlock? Can’t actually remember it, never saw you interacting with him.

I truly hope we…I will know and not just about the umbrellas.

There is no fate, we are too clever to actually believe in it.

About helping me…I don’t remember my brother, but Sherlock remembers me, surely he won’t like the fact that you don’t want to help me. Instead, if you help me, then I would owe you one and I truly believe you will need it because of your nature: you are the scorpion who needs to poison the turtle.

[jcmesmcriarty-blog]

Oh, look. At least you’ve retained your personality. Joy. Same old skeptical Ice Man.

What, you’re going to sic Sherlock on me? I’m terrified, really.

 Debts, however, I might be interested in. Granted you ever regain your memory, I’m not sure how useful you are like this. Can’t put ice back together once it’s shattered unless you melt it first. That’s what’s happening here--look at you, reaching out so desperately now that you’ve lost your dear, darling memories. Surround yourself in the people you used to remember, really open up for once in your life. Except it won’t work.

Maybe I’ll help you, though. Maybe. If I’m not busy with more important things. I have got a schedule to keep, you know.

[mycroftholmesworld]

Memory Loss.

[jcmesmcriarty-blog]

The king without a palace… dear me. That is unfortunate. You do like umbrellas though, good job. You’ve figured out one thing.

I could probably help you, not that you’ve ever been nice enough to me to deserve it. Pity, as I’m sure you’ve got a lot of ground to cover. Especially here, you’ve really got to know who you are. Who knows what might come out otherwise?

Good luck, Mycroft Holmes. I wish you the best. Really.

[mycroftholmesworld]

James Moriarty. I remember you. Why do I remember you and not my own family?

Weren’t you the king? Yes, I remember that you wore the crown jewels to start a Machiavellian plan against…Sherlock. We are enemies so I guess those wishes are sarcastic. About your sarcasm, let’s not talk about umbrellas, I still have to understand why I like those so much especially when it doesn’t rain…maybe you know it, or maybe not, I must not be a sociable person seen that you called me the Iceman. Oh, really? You could help me, however I don’t see how. Even though, there must be a reason if you are the only person that I remember.

[jcmesmcriarty-blog]

It’s raining, it’s pouring, the old man is snoring

he went to bed and he bumped his head

 and he couldn’t remember in the morning.

How did you manage to lose your memory, that’s what I’m wondering? I imagine it went something like that.

Weren’t those good times? Why do you like umbrellas, though? That’s a good question to start with. I’ve always thought it was to push people away. Your little hermit’s cave in a crowd full of people. Or maybe it’s just your horrible fashion sense and accessory choice. We might never know.

I don’t know why you remember me instead of everyone else--certainly not my choice. It’s probably fate, that’s it. We’re still relying very heavily on this could help you, though. I might be more interested in watching the old man bumble around, crying and moaning about everything he can’t remember.

[mycroftholmesworld]

Memory Loss.

I have been reading my blog to understand who I am because I can’t remember. I was planning to not say anything and pretend that I still remember, but it couldn’t go far. For what I understood from the blog, I am Mycroft Holmes and I like umbrellas very much considering that the last blog post I wrote was about a brolly that I lost. I can’t remember anything more than what I read in my blog, at least for now. However, perhaps you can help me. Please, to all the people who I had a contact with at least once, please, help me to remember who I am. For example: what was I doing before losing my memory? Perhaps some of you might know it? Living without knowing who I am…it is not living. It’s just surviving. Please, help me. 

Thank you.

[jcmesmcriarty-blog]

The king without a palace... dear me. That is unfortunate. You do like umbrellas though, good job. You’ve figured out one thing.

I could probably help you, not that you’ve ever been nice enough to me to deserve it. Pity, as I’m sure you’ve got a lot of ground to cover. Especially here, you’ve really got to know who you are. Who knows what might come out otherwise?

Good luck, Mycroft Holmes. I wish you the best. Really.

[soldiermandanny-blog]

Soo..

[jcmesmcriarty-blog]

There’s lots to learn here.

Since you’ve experienced both–which did you prefer? Human and drowning in emotions, or being free of them completely?

[soldiermandanny-blog]

Good thing I’m not opposed to learning.

Human and drowning in emotions. There’s far too much to feel in this world to miss out on it.

[jcmesmcriarty-blog]

I wonder if that opinion will last here or not.

[mycroftholmesworld]

Where is my brolly?

[jcmesmcriarty-blog]

Oh dear. It’s the end of the world. Your brolly is missing.

[mycroftholmesworld]

Missing like the gun you used on me, James. You should know the disappearance act very well.

[jcmesmcriarty-blog]

Oh good, this again.

[mycroftholmesworld]

Where is my brolly?

It was in my hand and then it disappeared. I’m not even surprised, but if you see it then please let me know. Yes, it’s just a brolly, but…just please let me know.

[jcmesmcriarty-blog]

Oh dear. It’s the end of the world. Your brolly is missing.

[jcmesmcriarty-blog]

Exploring - Jim and Eve || Event 7

[thetruequeenofpurgatory]

It was a loaded question, and Eve was wary about how she answered. On one hand it was in all the movies that he was the enemy and Irene had feelings for Sherlock. So it made sense that she would get all upset when she found out Eve attacked Sherlock. But how would this man in front of her feel about it? He seemed pretty okay with hearing her speak of Lucifer, Eden, and killing countless people. But she didn’t know what it was like their world. Despite not wanting to get shot, Eve was curious to see how Jim would react to hearing she damaged people from his world so easily. “A while back I had a rather messy disagreement with our favorite detective. Broke him open and such. Irene found out and got her revenge when I was temporarily out of commission. So I just got a little revenge. Showed her what fear really is, and painted the sidewalk with her blood.”

His confession halted her. It looked like she really wasn’t alone in this place. Alone as in everyone here seemed so set on being the hero she was starting to think it was contagious. Finally someone else saw how unworthy of their lives they were living. And it was a human, even more fun. Changing back from Irene to herself she kept a small smirk on her face. The words were on the tip of her tongue, and she believed she could learn anything from him if she just asked right.

Then he asked his questions. It was beautiful. Something rushed through her that she hadn’t felt in so long. Hope, maybe? “Alliances are wonderful if formed with the right people. Or in our case, I guess it would be the wrong people.” She told him before walking over towards him.

Dropping to the floor in one solid motion, Eve placed both her hands on his knees and lifted herself just below with his face. The move was more submissive than she would have liked, but she believed it would help the whole process if he saw himself as the one in control and that it was his idea. He seemed smart enough, and had been at the top of something powerful. If there was one thing she learned about humans, it was they always craved more. She mastered her perfect monster and had never gotten a real chance to use his abilities. If he wanted more, she would give him an unlimited amount. “My talents are for more then I could ever describe. Hunters in my world would kill me just for having them. Would you like to see them? How about I give you a gift?” Her words were soft, sweet, and oh so carefully planted just right.

[jcmesmcriarty-blog]

Jim regarded Eve unblinkingly. He was entertained by Sherlock Holmes. If he had died from the encounter Eve spoke of, his mood might have taken a downward shift. Quality entertainment was hard to find in real life, that was why he had never gotten around to killing Sherlock. Not until his last plan at least, then he’d tried a little. He would need to remember that Eve was more dangerous than her outward appearances might suggest, of course. In no world was there anyone that was completely loyal. For the right price, alliances and loyalties could shift. Although the way that this one was headed, something solid and almost trustworthy looked to be in the future. “Impressive.” He commented, little inflection in his voice.

“The wrong people indeed.” Jim mused. He hadn’t expected her to drop down in front of him, but the motion brought back that familiar feeling that had been sadly lacking so far in the Pocket, other than when he had held Mycroft Holmes at gunpoint. He had been lying low for long enough that every inch of him was itching to do something. Watch people kneel in front of him, just like Eve was doing now.

The abilities she spoke of only increased his interest and that creeping feeling inside of him. He placed his hands lightly over top of hers and lifted them up, nodding slightly. His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip.“Yes, a gift does sound... intriguing.” Jim didn’t want to look as desperate as he felt to receive the gift she was speaking of. He’d channel this impatience once he’d actually gotten it, and had a chance to try the gift out. Maybe on someone that had it coming--Mycroft Holmes’ face still danced at the back of his head, tinged with annoyance at that horrible bossiness the older Holmes possessed. Or perhaps he would go after someone smaller, more breakable. They could be a trial run. “If you’re willing to give it away, I certainly won’t say no. We need all the edge we can get here.”

The brief thought crossed his mind that he shouldn’t be jumping in blind, should probably ask what exactly she was giving him. But on the other hand, a surprise could be so much more fun. Jim settled upon a vague question that could give him some clues as to what was going to happen, throwing some caution to the wind. “How exactly will this gift transpire?”

[soldiermandanny-blog]

Soo..

[soldiermandanny-blog]

It’s complicated, to say the least.

Right.. You probably know less about this stuff than I do.. It’s an emotionless robot of sorts. Big thing made of tin, mostly.

[jcmesmcriarty-blog]

There’s lots to learn here.

Since you’ve experienced both--which did you prefer? Human and drowning in emotions, or being free of them completely?

[deaducing]

I was here all along, apparently.

[jcmesmcriarty-blog]

Might want to hide before Mycroft finds you. He’s been terribly worried.

[deaducing]

Has anyone seen my coat and scarf? I realise I have impeccable style, but that doesn’t mean anyone can just come into my quarters and take whatever they’d like.

[jcmesmcriarty-blog]

Well look who’s back.

[soldiermandanny-blog]

Soo..

[soldiermandanny-blog]

Hello, Jim.

You don’t entirely sound too thrilled about that.

I guess you could say that, if being turned into a Cyberman is your cup of tea.

[jcmesmcriarty-blog]

Yes, well. You don’t seem to be jumping up and down either, and you’re the one that was brought back to life.

Cyberman? 

[soldiermandanny-blog]

Soo..

[soldiermandanny-blog]

Hello, I-don’t-know-your-name. But nice to meet you, I suppose.

I was hit by a car and then I exploded, two separate events, both ending in my death. So I’m alive again? Or am I some sort of ghost because I’m certain there are people here that haven’t died yet. That I know of.

[jcmesmcriarty-blog]

James Moriarty. Call me Jim.

Yes, you’re alive again. Which is lucky for you, I suppose. Second chances and all that, very exciting. 

So you died twice? Sounds like an interesting story.