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Moran has a minion!

Jim the Magpie




Moran


The Reborn Tigrean
Owner: Moran

Age: 7 years, 9 months, 1 day

Born: March 4th, 2012

Adopted: 7 years, 9 months, 1 day ago

Adopted: March 4th, 2012


Pet Spotlight Winner
November 3rd, 2014

Statistics


  • Level: 357
     
  • Strength: 892
     
  • Defense: 893
     
  • Speed: 888
     
  • Health: 892
     
  • HP: 892/892
     
  • Intelligence: 735
     
  • Books Read: 735
  • Food Eaten: 0
  • Job: Pawnbroker


When the world stopped turning

Prologue

A small square room. No windows, no visible door. Just darkness. Somewhere in a corner sat a tall man, staring in front of himself. Not that there was anything to see.
No, that was not quite true. There was something to see. Something he knew just existed in his mind. Somebody else was in the cell with him. A smaller man, sitting there in a yoga position, all relaxed. Well kept dark hair, an expensive suit hugging his slender frame. A pair of expensive shoes on his feet.
The man in the cell stared at the figment of his imagination, mouth dry, hands searching for something to hold on to.
‘What’s wrong Sebby?” he heard the one sitting in front of him say, ‘You don’t look so good. Were you lonely without me?”
The tall man hugged his arms around himself, trying to block out the sing song voice of the phantasm.
“You’re not real.” he murmured, body rocking a bit back and forth, “you’re not here. You don’t exist.”His words earned him an amused laughter.
‘Aww, Sebby, don’t say such mean things. You’re making me all sad.’
The tall man felt the ghostly image creep towards him suddenly. He felt warm breath against his skin, his body starting to tremble even more. No, it wasn’t real. He was not there. He could not be there.
‘Tell me, Seb. Tell me why you’d say such mean things?’
Sebastian Moran squinted his eyes shut, trying to focus, to clear his mind. His breath hitched as he turned his head away, not daring to move or try to push the figment away.
“Because you’re dead Jim.”
His voice sounded all hollow, empty. It was reflecting his mind and soul. He was only a shell. An empty bag of skin. Sure there were organs, bones, all those little things that kept his heart running. But there was nothing beyond him merely existing.
“You’re dead, Jim. You shot yourself in the head. You’re dead and buried.”
The ghostly image started to giggle again, the sensation of someone’s breath against his neck fading.
‘Oh right. I forgot. I’m sorry Sebby.’
Then there was silence again. Breathtaking silence. Deafening silence. Moran hastily opened his eyes again but there was nothing. The hallucination had left him. Jim had left him. He would not return.
The sniper let himself fall on the side, laying there, not moving. Jim was dead. He had blown off his damn head and died. He had left Sebastian behind. And had not allowed him to die too.
“Fuck you Jim,” the tall man murmured, closing his eyes again.
And somewhere in the darkness he could have sworn he heard Jim answer.
‘Not now. Maybe later.’

Jim was dead.
It was a fact.
Nothing in this world could possibly change that.
Sebastian Moran knew it too well. He remembered the day so clearly, the images burned into his mind. Jim’s big plan. His great game.
How could Sebastian have known what the consulting criminal was going to do? Up there on the rooftop with Sherlock Holmes. Moran didn’t see it coming...no...maybe he didn’t –want- to see it coming. He should have realized that Jim was going to do something self destructive. He should have been there to stop him. Wrestle the gun from his hand. Shoot Holmes with it.
All those thoughts were haunting him. Jim was gone. His empire, his spider web started to fall apart. One after another left. They had been only as loyal as their wallets.
Dekker had been the last one to leave; he had visited Moran in the flat he and Jim had shared. He had found the sniper there in a catatonic state, barely there, barely listening.
“He’s dead, Moran. There’s nothing we can do now. We gotta move on. Life has to move on. Come on, get a hold of yourself. It’s not going to bring him back.”
But Moran didn’t reply and Dekker had just sighed and left. Nobody could help that guy. He had tried to figure out what the relationship was between the boss and his bodyguard but everything had been just wild speculations.
Sebastian started to drift again. Just back then when he had arrived in London after being dishonorably discharged. There was nothing left for him again. Jim had given him direction, purpose. Now there was nobody holding the leash anymore but the tiger was unable to run off and find prey on its own.
He had been on Holmes funeral. And seen the look in John Watson’s eyes. It was the same expression he saw when he was looking into a mirror. How funny…
Two, almost three years passed by. Somehow Moran managed to get by. He was surviving, nothing else. He tried to find a new employer but something inside him had broken down and he felt his finger tremble, his hand shake in a way he never thought possible.
It was then when they found him. Not that he had tried to hide. There was no need to, really. At some point he realized though that he was running low on funds and that nobody else would be there to use Jim’s money with Jim gone. So he decided to use it to at least pay the flat rent and the other expenses. He was not interested in buying fancy clothes, sport cars or travel around the world. There was nothing he needed and no place he wanted to be at.
The man behind the counter at the bank was polite and tried his best to help his customer. He gave the tall man a bit of an odd look though. Obviously the client wasn’t in best health with the paleness of his face and the dark shadows under his eyes. He walked off to get some of the needed papers then returned after a while, addressing Moran.
“Excuse me, sir? My superior Mr. Vanderbilt would like to talk to you about a few technicalities.”
Moran shrugged his shoulders but followed the man behind the counter and down a hallway towards an office door. Opening it he stepped through just to realize that he was not going to get any money today.
In front of him at the table sat a man he had heard about before although he had never met him in person. But Jim had talked about him.
Mycroft Holmes.
There were just too many Holmes in this damn city.
Behind Sebastian at the now closed door stood two men in dark suits. From the way they gazed at him he knew that both were armed and ready to shoot him if needed. It was not needed though. Moran didn’t intend to even draw his weapon. Instead he started to laugh. This was just too hilarious, although he couldn’t tell why.
Mycroft looked the man curiously over. Colonel Sebastian Moran’s life filled a small folder. But there was enough to make one realize why he had worked for Jim Moriarty. Being an excellent marksman was just one of the reasons. Right now however the tall man didn’t look –right-. He looked like he was only still walking because dying was so bothersome. Like somebody who had nothing to lose.
“A pleasure to meet you, Colonel.” Mycroft started, gesturing to the chair on the other side of the table he was sitting at. “Please take a seat. And I hope you won’t mind if my two friends take care of your gun?”
Sebastian didn’t struggle as they took his gun and knife, patting him down to make sure he didn’t hide a bomb somewhere. So ridiculous. He never used bombs. That was Jim’s forte. Sitting down he stared at Mycroft, waiting for him to speak up again and explain to him what they wanted.
“As we both know you were an acquaintance of Jim Moriarty. And as we both know Mr. Moriarty decided to end his life in a most dramatic fashion. The public however believes that the man who died and was buried is not Jim Moriarty but Richard Brook, beloved actor.”
Sebastian stared at him blankly, as if he didn’t understand a word Mycroft was saying but in his mind he was trying to piece together the parts they were laying in front of him.
“We want you to give as all and every information you have about Richard Brook. In return you’ll be rewarded with what I would call ‘Free from Jail’ card and a ticket to wherever you think you might like to retire to.”
The sniper slowly tilted his head to one side, still giving Mycroft the feeling he was talking to somebody very dense or who had no grasp of the English language.
But when Moran started to laugh again, Mycroft knew that he could not expect any help from Moriarty's former employee. This man was still loyal, even now after his boss had died. They would not get a single piece of information from him.
Mycroft sighed, looking a bit regretful. He had instructions what to do next. Some people still thought there were ways to make Sebastian Moran talk. But Mycroft Holmes knew better, now as he had caught a glimpse of what was going on inside the sniper.
He gestured to the two men who grabbed Moran to handcuff him and drag him away.
This time Sebastian struggled.

------------------------------------------------------------------Hartwood prison was where the scum of Britain was sent. The worst criminals. Those that would not only face a life time in prison but also eternal damnation.
But Sebastian Moran didn’t believe in hell. He was already living in it. The prison did not scare him. His cell mate was an ugly gorilla sized man named Joe. Or another of those bland names this type of criminal had. He didn’t care. But he made sure to leave a lasting impression on ‘Joes’ face when the ape man tried to grab him and explain the rules to him.
Moran’s movements were fast and efficient. Joe would not bother him again. And word spread quickly that this newcomer was not the kind of person you’d make your prison bitch.
Even so the sniper had to be on his toes. They tried to intimidate him of course. It was four of them that one time. They managed to catch him off guard, roughed him up but Moran fought back with the intensity of a wild animal. He had to stay in the prison ward for a week but he got lucky. They didn’t –break- anything. Broken limbs were bothersome.
There was also that part in the shower. Not that anybody dared to touch him. The joke about dropping the soap remained just that- a sick crude joke.
“Hey, Moran. What’s with those scars on your chest?” one of them pointed out some day. Sebastian looked down at himself, fingers tracing the outlines of faint yet still visible letters. Jim had left them there. He had carved his name into his flesh, marked him as Moriarty’s possession. “Looks like a name. Don’t tell me you had a butt buddy, Moran.”
He could hear the glee in the other man’s voice. The laughter stopped abruptly though when the sniper grabbed his face and smashed his head into the tiles of the shower room. He didn’t kill him, although he had wanted to in that moment. But after that the other prisoners tried to avoid being alone with him.
Somebody recognized him some day. Rumors made its way around.
“Hey, were you not working for-him-? I heard you were his right hand man.”
After that he found himself being offered cigarettes and booze. Obviously Jims name still meant something among these criminals. They bugged him for stories and Moran told them. He never told them about the things Jim had done. They were not worthy to hear them. But he told about his part of the story. He told them in a way that made them look at him odd again. They were impressed and they were disturbed. It was the kind of look Jim would usually get and it filled Sebastian with a strange sense of pride.
Every few weeks they would bring him into a room to interrogate him. Or rather to remind him of their offer. Usually it would be Mycroft but when the men looked at each other both knew what the answer was. Mycroft knew that nothing could make Moran betray his boss and Moran slowly realized why they insisted on knowing more about Richard Brook. There was just one possibility and it struck the sniper like a blow to the guts.
Holmes was still alive!
He had to be!
And they had to clear his name. But with Jim dead only one person had the key to most of his secrets. Could reveal more of the truth. Sebastian’s face darkened as he was ushered along the hallway. This was not fair. Jim would have seen it coming. It’s not possible that Holmes could have outsmarted him.
Then he realized that he was not brought back to his old cell. Instead they pushed him into a dark place without windows. There was no bed, no chair, nothing. Just darkness that hugged him gently as the door closed and locked behind him.
So they were getting desperate. They thought that a bit of darkness and a bit of loneliness would get to him? Sebastian chuckled as he slowly sat down in a corner, leaning his head against the cold wall. He was already alone. This wouldn’t change anything.
The first 24 hours he just sat there, sometimes dozing off. He would get food but he never saw anybody bringing it. He just smelled it and searched around for the bowl. He knew they had cameras in here, watching him. The next day he started to look for means to keep himself distracted.
Those watching him were confused by his movements. He was repeating the same gestures again and again.
“I think he’s going crazy.” one of them said. But Mycroft knew better.
Sebastian was assembling his rifle. Again and again. Trying to recollect the memories of the things he had done. Trying to bring back the memories of Jim.
After a week he felt himself start to slip, cracking slowly. It was as if his mind was being corroded. And it was then when Jim started to appear. At first it was just a shape. But then it suddenly grew limbs, eyes. Here was a voice. Jims voice. He was giggling and shouting and cooing. Sometimes he would get so close and remind Sebastian of the good times they had. The crazy times they had. The times when they shot things together. He’s whispering dark things to him, nice things, naughty things.
Jim that bastard. He knew Moran could never get away from him. It was not love, no. Jim Moriarty was not capable of love. And Sebastian would have never called it that either. He needed Jim. He needed him and hated him and would have loved to strangle him. Just to press him against a nearby wall and kiss him roughly until Jim was out of breath.
The days started to became a haze. Hours rolled away and Sebastian was talking to Jim. Until he realized he couldn’t do it anymore. Jim was dead. He had to send him away. He had...to let go. “Go away Jim.” he whispered as he laid there on the ground. He didn’t notice the cell door open. He barely felt hands grab him and drag him away. In his head he heard distant sirens. And gun shots. It made him smile. He knew neither existed but those were sounds he knew and cherished.

---------------------------------------------------------The next time Sebastian woke up he found himself in a comfortable seat, a seat belt around his waist. Sitting abruptly up he then realized that he was sitting in a plane, from the looks of it first class. A stewardess approached him, offering him something to drink. Moran took the offered wine glass like in trance, sipping from it. He was dreaming. Maybe he had even died. Gazing outside he saw crystal clear blue water and small islands.
The plane landed safely and somebody approached Sebastian as he entered the airport.
“Colonel Moran?”
Sebastian nodded numbly since there was no other reply possible. He followed the man to a car and slipped into the backrest. Then he finally looked over himself for the first time.
Ugh. Somebody had dressed him in a most garishly colored Hawaii skirt. It was almost hurting his eyes. And he found a pair of shades in the breast pocket of it. He was also wearing a pair of short pants and a pair of white simple tennis shoes. He looked like...a tourist. Dammit. His dreams were getting out of hand.
The car drove him through an unknown city until it reached what seemed to be a large beach resort. Another man awaited him, greeting him politely with a bow, gesturing him to follow. Moran did so and if only to see where this dream would lead him to. He was guided to a private beach area, nobody around but a single person, which was resting in a beach chair under a colorful umbrella.
Sebastian slowly stepped closer, the sand making crunching noises under his feet. He felt the sun burn on his backside as he approached the one in the chair. Then the person suddenly sat up. It was a small man, skin rather pale looking, dark hair well kept, wearing a pair of shades that matched Moran’s and a shirt that was equally as tasteless color wise.
But it wasn’t the shirt that caught Moran’s attention. It was the man’s grin.
A moment later he was upon him, pushing him down, Sebastian’s hands finding the man’s neck, squeezing down.
“Did you miss me, Sebby?” Jim’s voice sounded choked yet full of glee, “daddy missed you too.”
Sebastian felt Jim’s fingernails rake over his neck, leaving bloody trails before he finally let go of the other mans throat, breathing raggedly with Jim.
“You...you…fucking bastard!” the sniper yelled, “You’re dead! I know you are! I saw you!”
Jim’s body was still shaking with laughter.
“Didn’t I look pretty? I fooled everybody, even Holmes. He looked so shocked when I pulled the trigger.”
Moran swallowed, staring down at his employer. That sneaky little fuck. He had fooled them all. And yet…
“Holmes is still alive.”
Jim gazed up at Sebastian as the sniper said these words.
“I know.”
Sebastian stared down at him, eyes wide. Then his body started to tremble and twitch, fingers pushing lightly against Jims throat but instead he grabbed the collar of that ugly shirt, pulling the other man up into a crushing, brutal kiss.
Biting at Jims lip he tasted the other mans blood. That was when Sebastian realized he was not dreaming. Although it still felt like it. Pulling away after a moment he squinted one eye shut, looking Jim over who was gasping for breath, licking his bloodied lip, rather amused at his sniper's reactions.
“Damn it, Jim. That’s the ugliest shirt you ever wore.” Moran grunted then, starting to grin. “I think I better get you out of it before the color sends me on a murder spree.”
Jim’s laughter sent goose bumps trailing down all over his body.
“Then you better hurry, Seb, before I consider that offer.”


art (c) Spy
overlay (c) Swirl
Story (c) me
Profile (c) Chelsea

Pet Treasure


Intense Edible Body Paint

Misplaced Mission Details

Be My Bae-B-Q Sticker

Wooden Playing Cards Case

M Sticker

Flames Matchbook

Rusty Cigar Tin

Sniper Miniature

Silver Bullet Shells

Set of Safe Keys

Make-It-Rain Wallet

Major Drills Badges Of Honor

Flashback Material Girl Prayer Beads

Bi Pride Sash

Spice Gum Pack

Too Hot To Handle Candy Heart

Daily Pills

Extra Strength Pain Pills

Regular Strength Pain Pills

Ice Bag

Tension Bandage (Face)

Tension Bandage (Hips)

Tension Bandage (Ankle)

Bag of Blood

Bloody Wet Specimen

Butterfly Bandages

First Aid Kit

Large First Aid Kit

Pink Bismuth Travel Pack

Ibuprofen Travel Pack

Acetaminophen Travel Pack

Suture Kit

Bloody Patch Kit

Gilded Drinking Flask

Dainty Drinking Flask

Belted Glass Drinking Flask

Six Pack of Amber Ale

Six Pack of Pilsner

Six Pack of Stout

Velvet Whiskey with a Gray Bag

Velvet Whiskey with an Orange Bag

Vodka

Whiskey Decanter Set

Riverside Aged Whiskey

White Bear

Black Bear

Rhubarb and Tequila Cocktail

Mojito

Bloodthirsty Mary

Bloody Mary

Woowoo

Sample Size Oatmeal Stout

Beer

Pilsener Glass

Glass of Wheat Beer

House Amber Lager

House IPA

House Honey Lager

House Porter

Glass of Bock Beer

House Oatmeal Stout

Amber Fossil

Brewski Brand Brewski

Ale Flavored Beer

Centropolis Stout

Autumn Harvest Yellow Ale

No Hander

Frostberry Vodka

Zombie

The Smoker

Vodkatini

Gin and Tonic

Caipirinha

Whiskey Sour

Mint Julep

Gin Fizz

The Haze

Cat Scratching Post

Ginger Clipon Mustache

Old Masters Violin

Riding Crop

White Party Beads

Consulting Detectives Door Knocker

Stone Skull Totem

Silver Cigar Case

Carved Antique Pipe

Mystery Box

Hazard Map

Hangmans Noose

Fossil

Fearsome Guardian Mask

Golden Tiger Makeup Kit

Twilight Lifelike Tigrean Doll

Marsh Lifelike Tigrean Doll

Cream Lifelike Tigrean Doll

Arid Lifelike Tigrean Doll

Dawn Lifelike Tigrean Doll

Common Lifelike Tigrean Doll

Mint Tigrean Head

Chocolate Tigrean Head

Orange Jelly Tigrean Head

Chocolate Tigrean

Richard Tiger Plushie

Satisfied Teagra Beanbag

Tiger Velvet Sticker

Zodiac Tiger Spirit

Unremarkable Tiger Plushie

Golden Tiger Cub Squishy Doll

Common Tigrean Plushie

Beast Terrible Claws

Tiger Bones

Bloody Shark Jaw

Pointy Shark Tooth

Stubby Shark Tooth

Precious Mako Shark Plushie

Precious Great White Shark Plushie

Precious Whale Shark Plushie

Precious Nurse Shark Plushie

Precious Thresher Shark Plushie

White Tiger Grrr Candy Heart

Simple Black Leather Collar

Simple Red Leather Collar

Camo Nylon Leash

Black Nylon Leash

Chain Leash

Heart ID Tag

Diet Dry Dog Food

Small Dog Crescent and Bone Biscuits

Centropolis Pet Bed

Pinhart

Cake Spider Sticker

Gray Felt Spider Plushie

Orange Felt Spider Plushie

Yellow Felt Spider Plushie

Hairy Horror

Arachnid Possession

Wooden Playing Cards Case

Drills Boot Polish

Stack of Coins

Poker Chip Erasers

Delish Decked Out Playing Cards

Hand of Seven Cards

Crazy Eights Deck

Nine of Diamonds Playing Card

Nine of Clubs Playing Card

Nine of Hearts Playing Card

76 Card Games

Tome of Death

Tacticians Guide

Science for Pets I

Getting Lucky With The Irish

Naughty List

Eye Catcher: Hidden

Murders 101

Work Out Guide

Lotsa Love Card

Steel Typewriter

Calligraphy Pen

Blue Insignia Pens

Fake Heart Shot

Slit Neck Makeup

Fake Temple Shot

Simple Oval Cufflinks

Innocent Shirt

Blood Trail

Suspicioid

Army Jacket

Dark Brown Steel-Toed Boots

Black Steel-Toed Boots

Khaki Hiking Backpack

Grimdark Gentleman Straight Razor

Counteraim Ring

Police Rifle

Intrepid Soldier Automatic Rifle

Police Thigh Holster

Police Shoulder Holster

Police Bullet Proof Vest

Police Gloves

Police Walkie

Police Shades

Police Cuffs

Outback Kukri

Epic Muse

Lost Man

Heart for You Sticker

Srsface

Pickled Eyeballs

Juicy Eyeballs

Subject Eyeball

Twitching Skeleton Prop

Spiked Punishment Collar

Mini Heart Dark Chocolate

Copper Saute Pan

Copper Pot

Copper Casserole Pot

Coffee

Carton of Two Percent Milk

Flowering Jasmine Tea

Flowering Hibiscus Tea

Box of Dried Chrysanthemum Buds

Ytivan Yeti

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