shakiest voice test

[iwillssskinyou]

So it's true what they say. Eeeeeverybody loves you once you're dead. Figures, right? You go through life just existing and nobody notices, nobody cares –– I mean, come on, I haven't even made it to international news yet and look at me.

[ He gives a theatrical huff of a sigh. ] Then you do something as ordinary and boring and predictable as stick a gun in your mouth and suddenly everyone wants to be you. [ Those last few words trickle from his mouth in a lazy sing-song. ] What's with that?

Point is, honey, I'm here to put an end to it. [ And now? Now he's all business. ] You. Can't. Be. Me. You're too stupid... Too normal... Like everyone else.

Nooo, I want you to stop before it gets out of hand. Stop before I MAKE you stop. [ Not that he can do much, but he doesn't have to know. Shhhh. ]

Comments

[deduce]

It's really not as easy as that.

_{[ Oh, look. Sherlock knows more about this than you do. Poor baby. ]}

[iwillssskinyou]

Of course it's not, Sherlock. It wouldn't be fun if it was.

[ Oh, we can't have that! He'll just pretend he was feigning ignorance, yup. ]

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

I highly doubt anyone loves either of us anymore.

[Well, more accurately, Sherlock doesn't deserve to be loved, but lets not split hairs.]

[iwillssskinyou]

You don't think so? Sherlock Holmes, no –- people don't love him. People don't like li~ars.

But Rich Brook? [ Slowly, slowly, a grin creeps upon his face. ] Everyone loves a good story about a tragic actor. His dvd sales will probably get a major boost now. That is, if anyone can find any outside of Germany. They love him there. [ Absentmindedly, he faintly adds: ] Reich Bach...

[ And, normally: ] Yeah, so, it's just you people hate.

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

You disappoint. Your madness will be your downfall.

[Sherlock pulls out his phone and shows Moriarty a few images.]




Need I say more?

[iwillssskinyou]

[ If Moriarty felt any ounce of upset as he studied Sherlock's pictures, he certainly didn't let it show. There wasn't a flicker of change in his expression until he finally looked up after a second or two and pulled a face. ]

The first one is really sexy, but is that someone dressed up as you in the second? Kinda dangerous, doncha think? [ His pitch jerks into a high falsetto as he sings: ] Someone doesn't know about my gunmen! [ the falsetto drops to a lazy drawl and a half-grin tugs at his lips. ] Our good doctor had better watch his back. I don't trust the sniper to know the difference between you and one of your trusty fans.

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

[He sighs.]

I let that work the first time... I let you get to me. But not again.

[iwillssskinyou]

John's not important, then? Very good, I like that.

You really are me.

[ He knows that's not what you meant, Sherlock, but it's much more entertaining this way. ]

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

If I am... you made me.

[iwillssskinyou]

Exactly.

I made you....and I destroyed you.

Shame it's over already; I was having such fun. Oh weeeell.

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

As long as I live, you will loose, Moriarty.

[iwillssskinyou]

Not really -- I kind of already won, didn't I?

And I'm a wee bit dead now so...

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

You are as dead as I am...

[iwillssskinyou]

You're not really suggesting I survived a bullet to the brain, are you? Maybe you ARE stupid.

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

I've been thinking about it. I became overly sentimental when you began to threaten my friends. Now? I've had time to consider all possibilities.

There was no spray out the back of your head from where the bullet would have punched through your brain when the trigger was pulled, just the pool of blood after you fell backwards - A pool of blood is easy to mimic.

And your mouth didn't fill with blood either. That kind of wound should have produced a great deal of blood in both areas.

[iwillssskinyou]

Good, ve~ry good! I was afraid you'd missed that. [ And also missed the lack of mention of a second suicide in the papers. ] Of course, it would've been more impressive if you'd realized that right away but we can't expect too much, can we? Not even from you.

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

[Papers? He was a little busy to read the papers himself.]

There was no need. After all, my plan was successful.

[iwillssskinyou]

Your plan? You had a plan? Oh, pleeaaase, enlighten the class.

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

[He stands there with his hands clasped behind his back.]

You're clever, you work it out.

[iwillssskinyou]

[ He approaches Sherlock until they're mere inches apart, much as they were on the roof. He's pokerfaced until he starts to talk, and then he cracks a grin. ]

Was it to ignore the glaringly obvious fact that my death was staged and "die" anyway so you could be rid of John? Bravo, if it was. I imagine he's grown awfully boring by now. Most pets do after a while. [ His grin wiiiiidens – he's just trying to be annoying, now, because you make it so deliciously fun, Holmes. ] Could've been an easier way about it, though. The sniper could've done it for you.

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

[Sherlock doesn't directly respond to anything Moriarty said.]

You had snipers on three individuals....

[And that's all he has to say.]

[iwillssskinyou]

... Yeah. We've covered that.

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

The snipers were, ultimately the key. I had no way to know if they would know if your death was staged or not. I had already worked out they were listening in.

[Sherlock was the player playing the player who thought he had him played.]

From that point, I had no choice but to complete my plan.

[1_truth]

That won't work.

[iwillssskinyou]

[ What? Who are you? Ordinary person. Ew.

Maybe we can have some fun though~ ]</small] . . . Pardon?

[1_truth]

[Not exactly ordinary but hey, if that's what he wants to believe Conan is not going to correct him]

It doesn't matter that you're smarter than your mun-I'm smarter than mine, and she continues to play me. What the mun wants the mun gets.

whoops, totally missed my HTML fail until now

[iwillssskinyou]

[ He studies you for a moment, Conan. His gaze is cold and calculating -- this ain't no Jim from IT. At least, not at first. It doesn't take long before his expression softens and he almost seems friendly. ]

And you're okay with that? Not that there's a choice, I suppose. [ Cue heavy sigh. ]

/pats

[1_truth]

Of course I'm not okay with it! She's had me get sick, stuck with chickenpox, beat up, and shot multiple times. But there's nothing I can do except complain on here-even then, she just ignores it.

[iwillssskinyou]

Not very imaginative, is she? [ He hums a disappointed note. ] No, mine wouldn't be either. That's the problem. If only they knew how to be interesting...

Ugh.

[1_truth]

I wish she wasn't that imaginative so she couldn't find ways around the fact I don't, nor will I ever have a childhood fear. [...Sounding awful sure of that there Conan. Are you forgetting that you are a child?]

[tigerkiller]

I would have just-- shot him, for you, you know. [ Moran's fiddling with his lighter, a cheap, plastic thing, because he has no patience as far as keeping track of anything vaguely sentimental goes. He's only a little agitated, given the circumstances-- mostly just seeming put out, verging on angry. ]

And you could have, ah, I don't know-- left a note?