Moran is Unamused

[the_urban_tiger]

Look.

We got off to a bit of a rough start, but you've been very accommodating. Nice journal. Plenty of history fleshing out. Even got me new icons and everything. But what's the point of flashy pictures if you won't actually let me talk to anyone?

No- No, shut up, I'm not done. What you're doing goes against everything I am and that means you're doing it WRONG. Do you really think I care if I make someone uncomfortable? That's my JOB. I get paid more than the bloody prime minister to do it (among other things), and let's be honest. I don't even have to be paid to do it. If they don't want to play with what you're calling an 'unofficial interpretation'? They can ignore me. That's the glory of this entire thing, innit? Don't hit reply, scroll on, end of problem. You don't make friends (or enemies, or corpses) by playing by in your own sandbox. But here you are, running preemptive damage control and cock-blocking my every attempt to interact with people. There are so many of those doctors and detectives strutting about and you just want to watch? No. Fuck no.

And the two you actually let me set up with, you haven't even let me reply to them recently. You realize I'm setting up a grand game myself, yeah? That means I need to see it through. The good doctor is walking right into my snare and I want blood.

In short, knock it off, I know what I'm doing, and if you're pissing me off. If I say I want to talk to someone, fucking step up and let me do it. Do we have an understanding?

And, as an aside, thank you for tea blend. How many people get their own personally-tailored drink? Think you can do me an alcoholic one?

Comments

[playthings]

Oh they find our work and our skill reprehensible, I think. It wont take long for them to realize the reprehensible bits are the most enjoyable.

[the_urban_tiger]

That's the odd part- it's not like I'm the first in our line of work over here. Seems to be the bread and butter of this one.

[playthings]

Shame that she can't take the time to appreciate your talents. This one here seems to be all nerves and worry whilst simultaneous plotting all my next moves against a certain detective. Quite dull, really.

[the_urban_tiger]

We're coming to an agreement. Rather, we had better be.
... would you like some help with that?

[playthings]

Best just to ignore their protests. Or make them wish they hadn't denied you in the first place.

[ A sinister sort of smile creeps onto his face. ]

I'd be a fool not to say otherwise. Difficult to keep my hands clean.

[the_urban_tiger]

There's the angle I've started playing.
[he echoes that smile]
Allow me to handle the mess, then. I've been craving a good game.

[playthings]

Good boy.

[ Perhaps the phrase is condescending the the tone is filled with nothing but pride. ]

Up on a peg or two too high for their own good. A bit of your expertise would do them a world of good. Can't have the pawns thinking they're so clever, no, no, no.

[the_urban_tiger]

[ Honestly, there's worse things he could be called and that pride more than makes up for any damage to his so obviously frail ego. There might be a muttered 'not a dog' somewhere in there.]

Mm, no. Best nip that in the bud before it grows. Would you prefer them removed or just... reminded of their place?

[playthings]

[ It's a delicate balance Jim likes to maintain. After all, what would their relationship be if he let on like they were proper chums. How unseemly would that be. ]

Oh for my pal Sherlock I think reminders are more effective. But so many heart strings ripe for the plucking... Who to choose, who to choose?

sorry for that ridiculous delay

[the_urban_tiger]

Go for his occupation with the Detective Inspector? I don't suppose the rest of the Yard would be quite so keen on letting him play with their things without the big man there to tell them to.

[ Of course Jim doesn't need his help thinking these things out; the man is always seven steps ahead with the sniper close on his heels. Not that he wasn't prone to moments of brilliance himself now and again. ]

Or perhaps his landlady.

no worries~

[playthings]

[ That's the great thing about Sebastian, though. He's just clever enough to assist in this process wonderfully. If anything, his accomplice's equally cruel frame of mind makes these conversations quite a treat. ]

Naaaah, mother hen is best left for later. That policeman will get our message across much better, don't you agree? Bringing Scotland Yard to its knees is always worth the headlines.

That was a hectic weekend

[the_urban_tiger]

[ They earns a wry smile. Clearly someone is pleased by the idea of making the headlines by going after the Yard directly. ]

How would you like it done? Are we spilling blood this time?

[ He certainly hopes so; Sebastian vastly prefers any time he's allowed to make a proper example of someone instead of leaving them shaken but alive. Aiming to miss always left him... unfulfilled. Wanting. ]

it happens. sorry for *my* slow lol

[playthings]

[ Jim has to contemplate this one for a minute, a hand covering his mouth, gripping it truly, in deep thought. The strokes which would normally caress a beard or mustache do nothing but contort flesh. A moment passes before he snaps the hand away and tosses Sebastian a smirk, though his eyes are wild with excitement. ]

I think you're on to something, Sebastian, yes. Make a mark or a few, however much you like, but make sure he knows the name. My name. Make sure the only soul he utters it to is the Ice Man. [ Because Mycroft Holmes is the only person who will understand the significance and isn't currently faking his death. ]

It's all good, my friend!

[the_urban_tiger]

[ The request earns the slightly cant of head. Marks. Marks implies the D.I. was going to live, didn't it?It would be dangerous to do anything in person to a policeman who'd know your face, would be gunning to take you done. Not that Sebastian will say no because that's not how this worked- if Jim wanted something done, he'd find a way to get it done. ]

We aren't killing the policeman, then? How badly do you want him to bleed?

[ There's the grin again, wicked and eager. ]

[playthings]

What was that?

[ It's a calm, casual question he throws at his associate, barely warranting a response. He doesn't even bother throwing a glance in the man's direction as he says it. ]

[the_urban_tiger]

[ Have a blank stare, as the sniper refrains from sighing. He knows better than to take liberties where corpses are involved. The wrong person dead can cause monumental problems. ]

Do you want him dead, Jim? After he relays the name, of course.

here comes the crazy... i'm not even sorry. hope this is ok.

[playthings]

[ Wrong answer.

Jim bridges the gap between them swiftly, reaching out to grip the defiant sniper's lapels to draw him down to his level. Sebastian is a taller man than he, but height doesn't matter when his face is an inch away from the other mans, filled with all the malice he can muster. ]

WHAT WAS THAT?

[ He screams it full on, insanity brewing in the dark pools of his eyes. But after a moment it passes, though he keeps a tight grip on the man's shirt still for good measure. ]

You know, Sebastian, I am fond of you. [ He says it delicately, voice smooth as honey. A contrast. ] A man I had lunch with just last week told me I should expand my collection...I am a hunter after all, he says. Go to one of those, what do you call them?—Taxidermists.

[ He relinquishes Moran from his hold, immediately adjusting his cuffs afterwards. ]

Cross me again and I will not hesitate to hollow you and mount you on my wall myself.

This is where I politely refrain from explaining to my coworkers why I'm grinning like this.

[the_urban_tiger]

[ It doesn't matter whether or not he fully understands what he's done wrong. Being yanked down the half foot to be at eye level makes him stagger slightly to keep his balance, but there's not even an attempt to defend himself. No snarling or recoiling or struggling, just a bow-tight defensiveness in his muscles and those blue eyes fixed on Jim in the most impassive expression he can muster.

Moriarty was a wild fire. Usually Moran was the first to provide the petrol, fan the flames but he knows better than to feed it when it was directed at him (unless he was looking for a fight, but can it really be considered a fight when it was still one-sided?). No, he's going to play the good dog, scarcely breathing as he meets that gaze. Certainly he's very aware of the danger he's in and every muscle is aching to fight and free himself, dispatch the threat but he only wets his lips with a quick dart of his tongue. ]

Yessir. Thank you, sir.

[ He straightens himself after a moment to ensure he's been given permission to recover, smoothing his dress shirt with a hand and readjusting his tie. He's not sure he should press for details again. ]

hahaha perfect because I was grinning like an idiot while I wrote it.

[playthings]

[ Sebastian Moran has presented a bit of a conundrum for Jim, truth be told. His comment about being fond of him was not an exaggeration though perhaps the sentiment was off. In his mind all the world is a game he's playing, and winning in fact, while each piece plays their part either in his hand or in his opposition. But Sebastian hardly fell into either of those categories. He was a necessary ally that evolved from a disposable subordinate to a confidant. They had an understanding, despite Jim's questionable stability and sinister intentions for the world.

Perhaps the loyal hound imagery isn't unfounded. Moran always came back, despite the occasional beating. It's a shame Jim enjoys it so thoroughly. ]

Spare me your sniveling, I'm not a Drill Sergeant. I have others that need proper elimination, but you know the Holmes brigade mustn't die at my bidding.

[ Because Sherlock Holmes is special. This sort of game requires tact and finesse, and brutal killings make the playing field uneven. ]

Insane!Moriarty is the most exciting Moriarty! ... also, why am I writing so much. I am sorry.

[the_urban_tiger]

Sniveling? I wouldn't dream of it.

[ Rather in the same way that there's not a damn thing Moriarty would ever be able to do to make him cower, Sebastian's submission was placating and detached; perhaps not entirely insincere but far more indulgent than honest. He was much too proud to submit to Jim's moods without a much more substantial threat or a far different approach.

No, his loyalty to Jim was, in some regard, dog-like after all. (He detested the notion, however. Tiger he could wear with pride, Dog was just insulting). You could strike a dog and they may only shy away despite being much bigger and with jaws and sharp teeth more than capable of crushing the offending hand and tearing tendons from bone. Not to say he wouldn't bare his teeth and go for the throat when he knew he could get away with; he knew his was bigger. Stronger. Capable, and yet Jim is the only man who can command him. He allows it because Moriarty is the only employer who had ever really given him what he needed wanted, the only one who probably ever would to such a degree. Perhaps, to some extent, Jim made a masochist out of him because he knew it was always worth it to endure. The adrenaline junkie in Sebastian was attracted to the danger, the madness, the ridiculous challenges like a moth to the flame.

And walking alongside the fire was far more exciting than observing it from the somewhere safe inside. ]

My mistake. Allow me to rephrase my earlier question: how far can I push him?

never apologize! i *love* it. also having waaaay too much fun with this.

[playthings]

Dream, mm? Simpering then, i'd imagine.

[ The moment for Jim's seething rage has passed, and he throws Sebastian a teasing remark lightheartedly. The pendulum swing of his mood has come and gone without too much consequence if the light hearted banter is any indication.

To him the sniper was that tiger placed in a cage for his own personal use. But what would he reap from letting someone who he saw only partially on his level hear words liket hat from his own mouth? No, this was something Jim only had to say once to those unfamiliar with Moran's unique brand of ferocity before it became a known in all of his dealings, but he'd never hear those words come from his mouth in normal conversation the man. That would compromise their delicate balance. ]

Speaking and walking will be necessary. I trust you'll be creative, though you always are.

then this is good! very good, awful good.

[the_urban_tiger]

[ With Jim's good nature returned, Sebastian is back to his usual self, no longer appeasing and quiet. It's all confidence and that casual slouch of shoulders that does nothing to make the sniper look any shorter. He reaches into his pocket to pull out a cigarette case of carefully hand-rolled cigarettes, selecting the left-most one and sliding it between his lips. There's a comfortable smile cut across his lips again he chuckles at the remark as his gaze raises back up to Jim.

Already there's strategies, scenarios he's running through his head on how to handle this- assaulting the D.I. directly and getting away relatively unscathed in the longer term. Things like this took tactical thinking. ]

I always am, Jim. I'll take good care of him. Anyone else you need done in the interim?

sorry for the slow.

[playthings]

Nothing as important as the Detective Inspector, but something just as delicious.

[ Jim pulls his cell phone from his pocket, fiddling with it a moment before handing it to Sebastian. One the screen is a photo of an attractive brunette woman clad in a cocktail dress sitting in what appears to be a hotel bar. Should he choose to flip through the additional photos, he'll see a progression of images showing her leaving the bar, receiving a key card at the front desk and entering a group of elevators. There's one final image of the same woman in typical street clothes entering a taxi. ]

Teresa Grayson, ex-intelligence, attempting to gain contacts in the private sector since her recent and unfortunate dishonorable discharge. She knows too much for her own good.