#ℒ

[fangsforhire]

Anonymous bared their pretty throat : Jim is a sheep. Beep Beep!

‘A sheep, nah he’s more like a wolf in sheep's clothing, really.  Did you fall for his little act? Then again in his words, that is rather the point.’

Mimicking the irish drawl was second nature, grin tugging at immortal lips, bemused at the idea of Jim being as ordinary as the rest of them. Following others was not in his vocabulary, he did all he could when he was being Moriarty to stand out from the crowd. ( There weren't many who could whisper his name without resorting to a flinch or two, and yet his bond with him ran deeper than mere myth and legend. He’d seen glimpses of the man underneath the flesh, the human whom he’d regretfully become rather attached to. ) Jim was a damn enigma, unpredictable, thrilling. It still irked him how one man could change his entire attitude and make him abandon former vows. He’d sworn never to work anything but free-lance, and yet there he was, pandering to his whims. Fucker. 

‘I wouldn’t let him hear you call him that, he’ll turn you into shoes… somehow.’

[fangsforhire]

poxsonmenace  bared their pretty throat : ❛ When you take a man’s life, you’re not just killing him, you’re snuffing out all the things he’ll ever become. ❜

‘Mhm? What is this? Death guidance, 101?’

It was just like Moriarty to give no context wasn’t it? The weapon in his hands he’d been absently mindedly cleaning was placed down as he glanced over at the criminal with a quirked brow. He was no stranger to murder, he’d been taught how to kill from the get-go. He found it was as easy as breathing and his conscience rarely raised its head these days. ( Not to mention he had a scientific approach to assassinations in general. It was in his job description to leave emotion at the door. It was just that - business but he wasn’t oblivious to how final death was - at least in the mortal world. ) He possessed unparalleled knowledge of both Heaven and Hell, making him the most well-informed individual on matters related to the afterlife. It hadn’t stopped him from continuing to take hits though, or the feeling of victory when the bullet finally met flesh. 

‘Yeah, you take away his future. Kinda the point, no?’

[fangsforhire]

thecockysniper  bared their pretty throat : 🖕 Flip my muse the bird/a similar gesture

‘How old are you, three?’

Lips twitched in mirth upon watching Sebastian from across the room, leaning back into his chair. The two were like peas in a pod, both of them capable of immaturity and petty comebacks. It was always rewarding having likeminded company and Lucien wasn't easily offended, taking their harmless banter for what it was - fun. ( Was it any surprise then that his retort was to stick his tongue out as he stood up from the chair, heading for the liquor cabinet, considering his options. ) Perhaps Jim's insistence on them bonding had finally allowed them to pave the way, for he was in high spirits and laid back enough to walk around, sleeves pushed back, humming a tune underneath his breath.

‘Its late somewhere, right? Fuck it. We aren't even due to show our faces until past noon tomorrow, so what's your poison?’

[fangsforhire]

kingofthewebxxx said: 🔭

‘You humans and your gadgets.’

There was an awful fondness that came from watching Moriarty tinker about with telescopes, and it wasn’t the first time that he’d ventured up onto the balcony to witness him reposition the lenses, face full of concentration, aligning himself to the left and right and back again. ( No, it wasn’t, but it was the first time he’d been bold enough to intervene. ) Swiftly crossing the roof top, to prevent a tantrum, and aim his scope with precision, making quick work of assisting him before skipping away, assuming that would be the end of that. Really, he hadn’t expected himself to stay. It wasn’t like it had been planned, but one look in his direction had weakened his resolve and caused him to sink onto the stretched out blanket. ( His excuse? He was on the clock. Sebastian was asleep and he had several hours before he would be relieved again, so duty called. ) Besides, he’d already made the bed he might as well lie in it? So stay, he had, making himself comfortable, with his head tilted towards the Heavens, tongue crossing his teeth; doing his best to be silent, only to start to allow his passion to show. Voice full of elation.

‘You probably know this but stars form from Interstellar gas, mostly hydrogen molecules. When these clouds are pushed into a spinning motion, a small mass begins to form and continues growing. And when it reaches the right temperature, nuclear fusion occurs and a star is born. They’re the most memorising thing in the universe. I envy their life cycle.’ 

[fangsforhire]

fxckingmoran said: “I can take care of myself.”

‘Did I ever say that you couldn’t? Jeez Moran! Stop getting your panties in a bloody twist.’

{ Scorn in his tone, MISCHIEF danced in sapphire blues. Hand that had been stretching towards Sebastian to offer assistance hovering awkwardly now that backup had been refused so offhandedly. ( Tssk. So much for teamwork. Neither of them fit for this kind of joint assignment. Both solo players in every fashion. ) It was one of the reasons they had clashed so viciously in the military. Lone wolves as it were. }

‘So what you want me to just stand here lookin’ pretty or some shit? I feel fucking useless.’

[fangsforhire]

@attofinale​ followed from | ℒ |

‘You’re welcome, sugar. I love being perceptive.’

Holding in his laughter was proving PAINFUL; ribs threatening to crack as he heard Jim’s demands. ( Was he actually hiding? How fucking adorable. ) Squinting he eased his way inside that remarkable mind; sensing a tingle of agitation underneath the aggravation. Jim had gotten himself into one hell of a bind. Those men were remorseless; they took no prisoners.

‘Say please. Say please Lucien, kindly would you come rescue me like a knight in shining armour?’

He was going to PAY for it. No doubt a knife would become lodged in his sternum when he finally reached him. Yet, stifling giggles; he proceeded to multi-task, sprinting and cursing at the sudden static. ( Oh, well… he’d either cut the line or he’d lost connection. Perhaps that would teach him for taunting him, when he was in such… peril. ) Telling himself he wasn’t perturbed by the situation however; he finally slid inside - wrestling. One, two, then three. The butt of the rifle making contact with his skin, as the fourth dived on him.

‘Hate to break it to you, but I’m not a cage fighter.’

Flinging him through the air, he cleared his throat, calling for Jim in a sweet and sickly voice, hoping to avoid the wrath of Moriarty, and instead receive some credit. By the looks of their progress, he’d just gotten there in the nick of time. 

Phew!

[fangsforhire]

‘Target in range; moving in.’

Moriarty’s response was less than IMPRESSED. He sounded utterly infuriated as Lucien informed him through the earpiece; their sole communication cackling with static - proof that he’d just abruptly ended the connection. ( Great - he couldn’t win. ) Either he was ranting because he wasn’t kept in the loop or he was complaining because he was. Talk about fucking awkward. The man was enough to give him whiplash. It was a good job he enjoyed the hit.

Well LESS more so in a case like this; but when Moran was out of the country, beggars couldn’t be choosers. Not to mention he’d rather single-handedly accomplish all assignments if it meant being left alone. ( Teamwork hardly his cup of tea. ) On the contrary, as much as he loved to socialise sometimes; working with humans was tedious. They were so goddamn slow, their skills far from magnificent to a lightning fast immortal who could lessen the caseload in a matter of hours.

Nah he much preferred the DEAD; even if they did stink; he mused to himself; taking the detour necessary to avoid detection. This well-guarded businessman already suspicious to say the least. ( Just how many times had he looked over his shoulder or ordered his men to do so? ) Lucien could hear his rapid pulse, smell his embarrassing unease. By the time he’d reached for his weapon; could even see the sweat staining his forehead.

Talk about PATHETIC; it was a blessing to know he would soon be deceased as it seemed unlikely anything could go wrong until  - a shot that wasn’t his own echoed out. ( Cutting through one of his hence-men; the spray of blood heavy in the air. ) Gritting his teeth, he whirled around - hackles theoretically rose, assuming Moriarty had sent out a lackey only to freeze. The scent of another feline unmistakable.

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?

[fangsforhire]

Curiosity wasn’t a sin but shouldn’t one exercise CAUTION?

The BITTER taste of alcohol on the tongue was far from a saving grace; hands balling into fists as he confronted his current dilemma. Moriarty, a name crafted to bring shivers to the spine, a forbidden term that was only squeezed from the life of the dying. Discovering his origins had been tedious to say the least; research proving gruelling. The man was as invisible as himself. Trying to dig dirt upon him was pointless. Yet as he’d delved into his past, ( for he was hardly going to work intimately with a stranger ) he’d found himself rather… well enthralled. Like a moth to a flame, he’d become tangled in that fucking web. Odd jobs turning into regular routine, and then? He’d fucking met him. 

That pompous prick had FORCED his hand; breaking his ultimate rule. Never let it get personal. Oh, there were many reasons he slaughtered in the shadows. Humans were addictive in all the wrong ways; they wormed their way in and left you conflicted. ( Hadn’t he learned his lesson? Why hadn’t he cut contact - why in the name of fucking sanity had he allowed him to have such influence over him? ) Draining his glass; he couldn’t help but suppress a groan. Not only had he allowed him to walk away unscathed, he’d sought him out. Drowned his sorrows in his presence - told him too much.

There was going BACK now, huh? No, he was in it for the long hall; playing with FIRE; permitting its delicious dance, ready to make a deal in blood, for he got the feeling - that mysterious mad man wanted more. Wanted things he shouldn’t give; his undying loyalty. ( A thing he had reserved for centuries. ) Oh, did it make his skin crawl, the urge to continue to get intoxicated finally dismissed. Making one heavy decision, crystal was discarded; abilities sizzling as he located his vehicle and climbed inside. The dashboard shone to life; computerised systems detecting the quickest way to his abode, for he knew. Of course, he fucking did. Alas, tires SKIDDED across asphalt, putting the bar behind him, sunglasses slid into place as his attention became fixated on the drive; allowing the firm grip on the steering wheel to take him away momentarily. ( If this was a mistake; he’d correct it. Moriarty wasn’t a special snowflake… yet. ) Soothed by that thought; the sleek sports car ground to a halt; destination reached, aware that Moriarty was probably in for a surprise. For it was hard to tell whether he believed half the crap he’d come out with. Well he’d FIND out.

[ Message : M. ] You wanna know me? Come outside. Just be warned; you might finally find the distraction you’ve been looking for. I live on the edge and hey. Who knows if you’ll survive? ~ ℒ. xo

[fangsforhire]

{ A WARNING to the people; the good and the EVIL. THIS is war. }

FLASHBACK;

‘Name?’

The officer BARKED at him impatiently.

Azure eyes glanced from the newspaper he’d been pretending to read; tongue running over teeth. What on earth had possessed him of all things to join the bloody army? ( So yeah sure he was bored, but that was nothing new. )  Through the centuries everything grew tedious; what difference was another potential world war going to make?

‘Strix.’

He answered, licking his lips as he ROSE and placed down the article he’d been half-heartedly scanning ( Instinct prompted him to stand to attention the way he’d been taught; respect something he was capable of. ) Hell, in a way the army would be beneficial.

It’s not like he didn’t need some SOLID structure, a schedule of sorts to avoid falling off the wagon in more ways than one. ( Besides the examinations he really didn’t desire; he could avoid through compulsion. ) Which was necessary for he’d never be able to pass without aid. They tested such things as blood, agility and it was fucking impossible to hide the truth, huh ?

Well the latter wasn’t too much of a problem.

He’d grown used to REDUCING his speed on a daily basis. Playing the human, blending in. It was all a matter of survival. Humans were oblivious, unaware of the horrors around them. ( Unless you counted this war business and he supposed most would; it was far from pleasant. ) Even he knew that and he was used to the sight of crimson. Really, people dying for bloody power? Then again this was how it always went and he wasn’t surprised history was repeating itself.

‘Accepted. See Moran.’

The man had finished checking everything was in order. SHIT. He had zoned out again. ( Something he tended to do during unnecessary procedures ) though he was soon nodding and following the line of troops to the correct door; hands sliding into his pockets.

Considering it was TIME for business, he wasted no time in knocking.

After all, there was no going BACK now, was there?

~

{ To the SOLDIER; the civilian; the martyr; the VICTIM. THIS is war. }

PRESENT;

‘Did you say - fucking Sebastian Moran?’

MORIARTY cocked his head as he interrupted him, a dangerous look in those devoid black eyes, almost reptilian like as he tapped the desk with long manicured fingernails.

‘Yes,’

he crooned, daring him to BREAK him off again, though Lucien was currently frozen in his chair, eyes distant and almost disturbed. Moran. ( Thy Moran? ) As in army Colonel and more…?

No it couldn’t be.

Sebastian was a POPULAR enough name, Moran had to be too… surely reality wouldn’t bite him like a bitch he didn’t wish to fuck? Surely this Moran couldn’t be the same one? ( It was ridiculous to think that their paths would cross again; it was absurd to recall his army days just from a name alone. ) Moran had one lifetime; he had thousands, the chances of-

‘Ah, here HE is.’

Moriarty flicked his tongue, almost GRINNING maniacally as he looked up at the sound of a creak of a floorboard, the vampire’s body turning in the chair, eyes wide. ( The scent was goddamn familiar. ) Hell more than familiar, it was reassuring and forbidden emotions rushed to the surface.

How could this be fucking possible?  

[fangsforhire]

{ Hide behind an EMPTY face. Don't ASK too much, just say; 'cause this is JUST A game. }

God how he sometimes detested chasing shadows.

The THRILL having ebbed away as frustrations increased. Moriarty’s name had spread like fire through the criminal underground; quivering lips revealing little. ( M was infamous, elusive and a goddamn pain in his arse. ) Discovering his empire had lead to more migraines than he could tolerate and still, his intel was minuscule.

Fortunately, he could live with that; or so he’d thought.

A SIMPLE arrangement had been set up, his money sent into an offshore bank account by wire transfer. Sharing minimal contact information in return. M knew him as L. He hadn’t expected to crave more. Nor had he envisaged he’d receive it. ( Oh but the man was everything he’d visualised. Over-dramatic, unpredictable, exhilarating. ) A perfect match to his own slipping sanity. Like a moth to a flame he’d drawn him in, enticing him to play his games, and in a way, he’d been intoxicated.

Yet now he was cold stone SOBER; back to reality with a jolt, and he fucking knew the truth. It had been a lie. A delicious deception. ( The dark haired man nothing more than a performance. ) For M’s identity had been exposed as his suspicions were evoked and the so-called mastermind behind all this theoretical bullshit?

John fuckin’ Watson. Talk about disappointing.

Now, fingers gripped the printed documents he’d DUG deep for; everything in him screaming to slaughter Richard Brook for hoodwinking him. He was so goddamn ordinary - his mind revealing all Lucien needed to know. ( Trembling as he was confronted by a practically pissed off immortal, he didn’t stand a chance against. ) Yet it had been too easy; too tedious and so instead he’d left him to blubber in his own urine and gone out on yet another wild goose chase. Tracking the sole man responsible for his wrath.

Gaining his ADDRESS had been effortless, binding his time until he was alone, only to sneak inside; unsure if he’d been warned by Brook - his last memories of him sobbing at least somewhat satisfying.

‘Well well, the cat’s out of the bag, hm? Now give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you.’

[fangsforhire]

vangxards

‘Honestly, if you considered that aggressive, you’d hate to see me in a bad mood.’

{ Light TEASING replaced prior irritation; shrugging casual shoulders. His temper tantrums tended to escalate to blood-baths. Little reining him in from lashing out. ( Gabriels comment hadn’t dampened small spirits. On the contrary. ) Nodding towards him a casual hand gestured the bar-man back. } ‘Choose whatever you want then. I’m not guessing for ya.’

[fangsforhire]

@maniacollision  followed from | ℒ |

‘Ugh really, after I asked oh so nicely?’

{ Glare doesn’t FALTER; fixated on that very conspicuous machette. ( Jesus christ, is it necessary? He already has a loaded deadly firearm; how many weapons does one require for reassurance? ) Isn’t like he’s so much as moved a muscle, stance utterly indifferent. Not his first rodeo - as unfortunately trouble stalks him like a predator hunting its prey. }

‘Answers to what? Einstein's riddle? Honestly, love. No idea what you’re talking about.’

{ Response is drawled from parted LIPS; hands raising in mock-surrender. Naturally not knowing when to shut it. ( Then again who can blame him? For once he’s done zilch to warrant such interrogations. ) Releasing a harsh exasperated sigh. So much for a peaceful stroll, huh? }

[fangsforhire]

‘i don’t like being told what to do.’ - Sophia

SOFT ANGST STARTERS.

‘Oh well, my heart bleeds for you.I mean really - who fucking doessweetheart?’

{ Scoff of DISBELIEF left immortal lips dripping insarcasm, sapphire irises ablaze with irritation. Oh ifone thing grated on him? It was rules. ( Their existenceoffending him on a personal level and yet when one workedfor the likes of Moriarty? ) Toeing the line to an extentwas absolutely necessary. Playing with fire got you burned to a crisp. }

‘Unfortunately mad-men don’t really carewhether we want to behave or not.I know, I know. It’s highhhlyinconsiderate ofthem.’

[fangsforhire]

@arcanxc​​​ followed from | ℒ |

‘The one and only.’

{ Dry response LACKED the usual arrogance, tension radiating through muscles to be expected. Therapy was never a great comfort. ( He was a brutal and impulsive creature with a fractured mind and damaged soul. An utter enigma to many. To be dissected down to flesh and bone? Rare. ) Yet there was still a risk and if he had to admit to one fear; it was simply that. Quite plainly - himself. }

‘Don’t mind if I do.’

{ TONGUE pressed to the roof of his mouth, movements graceful despite his trepidation. Years of constant isolation had rendered him puzzling to read. Yet humans were also fascinated and drawn in by his very presence. ( There was something forbidden that they sensed. ) Often it was an advantage yet right now it would quickly become an annoyance. He had no desire to be prodded and poked phycologically. }

‘Let’s just get this over with, shall we?’

[fangsforhire]

poxsonmenace said: ‘best. funeral. ever!’

‘Are you serious?’ { Eyes darted from his RIFLE in irritation; unable to believe what he was witnessing. Moriarty plopping himself down chomping a sodding apple. Expression a picture. Clearly in his fucking element. ( Well that made one of them; how was he supposed to concentrate when Jim was going to criticise him or offer recommendations he didn’t require? ) Returning to observing his target; he adjusted the scope. Exhaling sharply. }

‘Don’t know why you’re so chipper. It’s hardly the funeral of royalty. Besides if you don’t keep it down it will be your bloody funeral.’

[fangsforhire]

diabolicaltendencies ‘ you saved my life... ' (From Jim)

‘Well - duh! Isn’t that what I’m paid to do?’

{ It was effortless to play it off as a GESTURE of loyalty, far more painless than admitting tragic truth. That Jim had gotten underneath immortal skin. ( That it was unbearable to consider a world where he did not exist. ) It was appalling.   How could one human cause such devastation and yearning? Because it was never one without the other. He was damned regardless. }

‘I’m just glad you’re okay; you bloody idiot. I mean really? What actually fucking possessed you?’