[ Life in Asgard is a very absurd thing, but it's a different kind of absurd than he's used to. Talking flowers? Could only happen in Asgard. Or so it feels from his point of view.
This? This seems more like the absurd he's used to. Which ... says a lot about his life.
While he at first stops abruptly in the doorway and stares - gapes, even - by the time she's all settled and has finished talking he's managed to gather himself together. Mostly. A woman he's never seen before, who knows his name, and who carries herself with that air ...
And he left the gun in his jacket. Fuck. ]
I ... wasn't aware I had an appointment.
[ He throws a look out the door. Where is Sherlock? If she's managed to make tea and everything. ]
[ like she knows Sherlock, as if they've spoken. it would have been better than to consider she waited for him to leave before making her entrance. ]
Perhaps studying the curious flowers which seems to sprout about everywhere. I was -- pleased that he did. I was hoping to see you. I already know one Sherlock Holmes but a John Watson.
[ she smiles and it's beautiful and perhaps terrible, too. ]
You know who I am, of course. I imagine he told you as much.
He hasn't actually been outright told who Jamie Moriarty is. But this is probably as clear as she can get without outright saying it. Only thing that puzzles him is that she went through this effort to see him.
Jim Moriarty would never do that. Not just to see him. Is that really what she's doing, though? No, he can't take that for granted. ]
Jamie Moriarty. You were hoping to see me?
[ It's a casual enough question, but the incredulity and confusion no doubt bleeds through. He's never been very good at acting, after all. ]
[ a statement, not a question. He's so different than Joan. Joan keeps herself so guarded around her. Part of her connection to Sherlock left her forever angry with her and Jamie supposes she can understand that and would not have minded except Joan is interesting and curious.
Jim Moriarty does not find the same fascination in her male counterpart and Moriarty has to know why. Where is the difference. The gender is nothing, she wants to dig deeper. ]
I wonder why. Does it not seem natural that we will be introduced to one another? I admit -
[ she pauses, tilts her head, as if considering. ]
I have yet to speak to Sherlock but I find myself less inclined to do so. But you know of me and I of you. Isn't it perfectly natural for us to meet like this?
What is with people from this reality being so invested in him? First the other Sherlock saying he'd be stupid not to request John's help, and now this. He doesn't quite know how to take it. Difference being, of course, in Sherlock's case he was more flattered. This is just ... rather unsettling.
He throws a vague look around the room, and a more pointed one at the tea cup in her hand. His cup. In which there is tea she made. In his and Sherlock's flat. After seeing Sherlock leave and thus breaking in. ]
Perfectly natural? Not really. But considering who you are ... I'm willing to debate it.
[ He purses his lips, slowly waves his hand a bit. ]
Really not Sherlock? No? Okay. He's usually the one people hope to see.
[ And, really, he's fine with that. Since it's all just out of curiosity and people hardly ever end up sticking around. It doesn't matter. Only annoying thing is that when it ends up being dangerous, he gets caught in the crossfire.
Although he supposes that's also the life he wanted. Asked for, when joining Sherlock in his work. Could be dangerous.
He's never actually envied Sherlock being the actual target. Even if he'd also rather he was, because Sherlock being in constant danger isn't anything he approves of either. Basically everything is thrilling but nothing is great. And this isn't a development he's excited about. And he is not moving from this doorway. ]
You consider who I am as if you know me. I have to ask, do you consider me the same as darling Jim Moriarty or are you concluding your thoughts from Sherlock's tales?
[ she smiles. ]
Not used to the spotlight. I wonder, why do you work with him if it's not for fame and from what I've heard, clearly not for sex either.
[ her tone is politely curious. Joan Watson came to Sherlock Holmes as his Sober Companion and it all rolled from there. But what led John Watson to Sherlock Holmes is a riddle to her. ]
[ It's a good thing he isn't drinking tea or he would surely have choked on it. No one ever says anything about it in Asgard, and then people from his reality and alternate ones trip in and suddenly it starts again. Go figure.
Honestly, he's making some assumptions but Jamie's not coming off as all that different yet. She's only ... more refined. Subtle. ]
We were both looking for a flatmate, and then I sort of got roped into it.
[ Looking for the thrill, but he won't say that. ]
Like the sidekick in the fairytale. Or perhaps the hero? dragged into a grand adventure when all they wanted to do was to sit at home and drink their afternoon tea.
[ she raises one eyebrow with a small smile. ]
Then you and Sherlock met because you became flatmates. I find that surprising; why did you stay? he cannot be a very considerate flatmate.
[ He raises an eyebrow, because of course it holds onto consulting detectives. Holds onto everyone. ]
Himself?
[ And then a great deal of things, but it basically all came down to that in the end. Not that John isn't guilty of it too. Their lifestyle. Bringing attention to themselves.
Well. That was mostly his doing. He's still a little angry at himself about it.
That first go, though, was most definitely just Sherlock. Possibly the cab egging him on - he doesn't know, he wasn't there - but Sherlock's an idiot. He needs looking after. ]
[ his answer makes her smile because himself rings true to her. oh if there were a watson there to keep sherlock from falling into drugs. but then there wasn't, the fall was necessary for the tale, wasn't it? but sherlock holmes is dangerous to himself and that is why he needs a watson. to not fall into drugs.
( to not fall into the likes of jamie moriarty, perhaps ) ]
Are you a doctor or a babysitter, John Watson?
[ she gets up, fluid and easygoing, takes a book from the shelf and browses through it ]
[ she lifts her eyes from the book and smiles, something crooked and charming and annoying as Jamie can be. She places a hand over her heart and it's all very dramatic. ]
John Watson, you wound me. Are you not one of finer manners than to ask that of a lady?
[ because, criminal mastermind or not, she does have her manners. she grins, moves back to the armchair. ]
Don't worry, I assure you, by the time Sherlock will come back, I'll be quite gone.
[ her look sharpens into something a bit scolding, as if it's even a question because Jamie is a creature of certainties and confidence. it's part of her allure and it's part of her many flaws. She doesn't address the question, half thinks he doesn't expect her to. ]
[ That gets a snort and he looks to the side. Most of them come down to differences between Jim and Jamie. He's not sure how to go about that. Answers probably come best from just watching. Maybe. He doesn't know.
He shakes his head. ]
Knowing one Sherlock Holmes doesn't mean you know them all.
[ for a moment she seems like she might laugh but it doesn't come ( jamie moriarty so rarely ever laughs and when she does, it is a frightening thing ) ]
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This? This seems more like the absurd he's used to. Which ... says a lot about his life.
While he at first stops abruptly in the doorway and stares - gapes, even - by the time she's all settled and has finished talking he's managed to gather himself together. Mostly. A woman he's never seen before, who knows his name, and who carries herself with that air ...
And he left the gun in his jacket. Fuck. ]
I ... wasn't aware I had an appointment.
[ He throws a look out the door. Where is Sherlock? If she's managed to make tea and everything. ]
action;
[ like she knows Sherlock, as if they've spoken. it would have been better than to consider she waited for him to leave before making her entrance. ]
Perhaps studying the curious flowers which seems to sprout about everywhere. I was -- pleased that he did. I was hoping to see you. I already know one Sherlock Holmes but a John Watson.
[ she smiles and it's beautiful and perhaps terrible, too. ]
You know who I am, of course. I imagine he told you as much.
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Once again: Fuck.
He hasn't actually been outright told who Jamie Moriarty is. But this is probably as clear as she can get without outright saying it. Only thing that puzzles him is that she went through this effort to see him.
Jim Moriarty would never do that. Not just to see him. Is that really what she's doing, though? No, he can't take that for granted. ]
Jamie Moriarty. You were hoping to see me?
[ It's a casual enough question, but the incredulity and confusion no doubt bleeds through. He's never been very good at acting, after all. ]
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[ a statement, not a question. He's so different than Joan. Joan keeps herself so guarded around her. Part of her connection to Sherlock left her forever angry with her and Jamie supposes she can understand that and would not have minded except Joan is interesting and curious.
Jim Moriarty does not find the same fascination in her male counterpart and Moriarty has to know why. Where is the difference. The gender is nothing, she wants to dig deeper. ]
I wonder why. Does it not seem natural that we will be introduced to one another? I admit -
[ she pauses, tilts her head, as if considering. ]
I have yet to speak to Sherlock but I find myself less inclined to do so. But you know of me and I of you. Isn't it perfectly natural for us to meet like this?
action;
What is with people from this reality being so invested in him? First the other Sherlock saying he'd be stupid not to request John's help, and now this. He doesn't quite know how to take it. Difference being, of course, in Sherlock's case he was more flattered. This is just ... rather unsettling.
He throws a vague look around the room, and a more pointed one at the tea cup in her hand. His cup. In which there is tea she made. In his and Sherlock's flat. After seeing Sherlock leave and thus breaking in. ]
Perfectly natural? Not really. But considering who you are ... I'm willing to debate it.
[ He purses his lips, slowly waves his hand a bit. ]
Really not Sherlock? No? Okay. He's usually the one people hope to see.
[ And, really, he's fine with that. Since it's all just out of curiosity and people hardly ever end up sticking around. It doesn't matter. Only annoying thing is that when it ends up being dangerous, he gets caught in the crossfire.
Although he supposes that's also the life he wanted. Asked for, when joining Sherlock in his work. Could be dangerous.
He's never actually envied Sherlock being the actual target. Even if he'd also rather he was, because Sherlock being in constant danger isn't anything he approves of either. Basically everything is thrilling but nothing is great. And this isn't a development he's excited about. And he is not moving from this doorway. ]
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[ she smiles. ]
Not used to the spotlight. I wonder, why do you work with him if it's not for fame and from what I've heard, clearly not for sex either.
[ her tone is politely curious. Joan Watson came to Sherlock Holmes as his Sober Companion and it all rolled from there. But what led John Watson to Sherlock Holmes is a riddle to her. ]
action;
Honestly, he's making some assumptions but Jamie's not coming off as all that different yet. She's only ... more refined. Subtle. ]
We were both looking for a flatmate, and then I sort of got roped into it.
[ Looking for the thrill, but he won't say that. ]
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[ she raises one eyebrow with a small smile. ]
Then you and Sherlock met because you became flatmates. I find that surprising; why did you stay? he cannot be a very considerate flatmate.
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[ From day one, man. From day one. ]
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[ she arches an eyebrow, slowly, and it's elegant and amused. ]
You were so certain he would have himself killed. I wonder why. What threatened the great Sherlock Holmes?
[ she smiles because she knows at least one person who might. ]
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Himself?
[ And then a great deal of things, but it basically all came down to that in the end. Not that John isn't guilty of it too. Their lifestyle. Bringing attention to themselves.
Well. That was mostly his doing. He's still a little angry at himself about it.
That first go, though, was most definitely just Sherlock. Possibly the cab egging him on - he doesn't know, he wasn't there - but Sherlock's an idiot. He needs looking after. ]
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( to not fall into the likes of jamie moriarty, perhaps ) ]
Are you a doctor or a babysitter, John Watson?
[ she gets up, fluid and easygoing, takes a book from the shelf and browses through it ]
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[ A frown. Enough talking about him. ]
How long were you planning to stay?
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John Watson, you wound me. Are you not one of finer manners than to ask that of a lady?
[ because, criminal mastermind or not, she does have her manners. she grins, moves back to the armchair. ]
Don't worry, I assure you, by the time Sherlock will come back, I'll be quite gone.
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Sure of that, are you?
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You have things you want to ask me.
[ not a question. ]
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He shakes his head. ]
Knowing one Sherlock Holmes doesn't mean you know them all.
[ Once again, it also comes down to why him? ]
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[ she frowns, as if the implication is worrisome. sherlock is one of her favorite art pieces, she has no doubt the other would be as interesting. ]
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And you wanted to talk to my why exactly? I'm still not following.
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[ as if it explains everything. her voice is soft around his name and she leans forward, as if to share a secret. ]
Sherlock may be different but he's still predictably similar. You and Joan however, I cannot see the pattern. Aside of Sherlock, naturally.
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Shrug. ]
All right, then. Feel free to share when you work it out.
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[ t h i s s m i l e ]
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Bugger. ]
It isn't.
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You do not seem so certain.
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