Fic: Speech Sounds
Title: Speech Sounds
Arthor: duh_i_read
Fandom: 221B Baker Towers (adaptation of Sherlock Holmes Mythos, see arthor note)
Characters: James Moriarty
Disclaimer: how do you disclaim a public domain work?
Summery:James learned that the best disguises were people’s expectations.
AN: spohistry on tumblr had this brillent idea of an adaptation of Sherlock Holmes where Sherlock is a poor person of color living in the rough part of London. Which, btw, is the best idea I've heard in forever. Lots of folks on tumblr have contributed ideals and art and fic and this is my humble offering of POC!Moriarty.
Kind of inspired by Andrew Scott's performance of Moriarty, but contains no spoilers and requires no previous knowledge of the BBC Sherlock verse.
James Moriarty was a whisper, a text message from a burner thrown into the gutter, an ever changing voice. Before, he painstakingly shaped his speech, dragged a whetstone over the syllables until his accent rang crisp and cutting. Not a hint of the council block when he spoke.
He stood out. Accused of you-think-you-better-than-us-boy? He became suspicious. When the cops came the thugs and the dealers and the crooked dockmen would pointed to the slight boy with the proper accent.
So James learned that the best disguises were people’s expectations; tucked around him based on the cadence of his speech and the cut of his hoodie and the hue of his face.
People were stupid. People were sheep. He took the edges of impressions and folded them like origami, shaping him into what he wanted people to see. Easier over the phone, he added and dropped constants, shorted and stretched vowels to suit his needs. No one suspected. Criminals whispered his name and wondered who Moriarty was.
He was a knowing whisper cooed in the ear. He was south and north and east and west. He was unknowable. He was no one.
Arthor: duh_i_read
Fandom: 221B Baker Towers (adaptation of Sherlock Holmes Mythos, see arthor note)
Characters: James Moriarty
Disclaimer: how do you disclaim a public domain work?
Summery:James learned that the best disguises were people’s expectations.
AN: spohistry on tumblr had this brillent idea of an adaptation of Sherlock Holmes where Sherlock is a poor person of color living in the rough part of London. Which, btw, is the best idea I've heard in forever. Lots of folks on tumblr have contributed ideals and art and fic and this is my humble offering of POC!Moriarty.
Kind of inspired by Andrew Scott's performance of Moriarty, but contains no spoilers and requires no previous knowledge of the BBC Sherlock verse.
James Moriarty was a whisper, a text message from a burner thrown into the gutter, an ever changing voice. Before, he painstakingly shaped his speech, dragged a whetstone over the syllables until his accent rang crisp and cutting. Not a hint of the council block when he spoke.
He stood out. Accused of you-think-you-better-than-us-boy? He became suspicious. When the cops came the thugs and the dealers and the crooked dockmen would pointed to the slight boy with the proper accent.
So James learned that the best disguises were people’s expectations; tucked around him based on the cadence of his speech and the cut of his hoodie and the hue of his face.
People were stupid. People were sheep. He took the edges of impressions and folded them like origami, shaping him into what he wanted people to see. Easier over the phone, he added and dropped constants, shorted and stretched vowels to suit his needs. No one suspected. Criminals whispered his name and wondered who Moriarty was.
He was a knowing whisper cooed in the ear. He was south and north and east and west. He was unknowable. He was no one.