Intro | No Event | Light or BYOA | Cannon mates are <3 but all welcome
No, No, no no no no no.
He'd won. He'd beaten Sherlock, taken himself out of the game. Solved that very final problem and now he was...in a hotel. Nothing much, nothing fancy. Just a hotel. But without Moran, without any of his snipers, his people, his contacts. Was this hell? It was too luxurious to be the hell Jim Moriarty had expected to find himself in for all his sins. It definitely wasn't heaven. That would just be silly, if admittedly hilarious. Side of the angels indeed. Whatever would dear Sherlock have had to say for himself then?
But Moriarty was never without a plan, was never without resources for too wonderfully long, and he found something, just a simple silk ribbon lying on the bed he'd woken up on. It was enough. He was always fonder of the close personal touch on the rare occasion he did deign to get his hands dirty.
Touching the ribbon though it wasn't death he wanted to bring to people though. Pain and pleasure always worked so well and in such equal measure. Why could they not do so here?
"Interesting." he said simply, looking around the room for a moment before moving toward the open door length of ribbon held as if a weapon between his hands
[OOC: This is Jim Moriarty from the BBC's Sherlock, he's a modern version of the books villain and is very very different in a lot of ways and a lot more obviously psychotic, M/F, M/M, BSDM either side, if someone can actually make Moriarty submit then hell to the yes but he's a natural dom. He'll be very fond of pain even to the point of knives but run stuff by me. Nothing that belongs in the toilet, other than that I have very few limits. Cannon Mates would be ALL OF THE LOVE!]
He'd won. He'd beaten Sherlock, taken himself out of the game. Solved that very final problem and now he was...in a hotel. Nothing much, nothing fancy. Just a hotel. But without Moran, without any of his snipers, his people, his contacts. Was this hell? It was too luxurious to be the hell Jim Moriarty had expected to find himself in for all his sins. It definitely wasn't heaven. That would just be silly, if admittedly hilarious. Side of the angels indeed. Whatever would dear Sherlock have had to say for himself then?
But Moriarty was never without a plan, was never without resources for too wonderfully long, and he found something, just a simple silk ribbon lying on the bed he'd woken up on. It was enough. He was always fonder of the close personal touch on the rare occasion he did deign to get his hands dirty.
Touching the ribbon though it wasn't death he wanted to bring to people though. Pain and pleasure always worked so well and in such equal measure. Why could they not do so here?
"Interesting." he said simply, looking around the room for a moment before moving toward the open door length of ribbon held as if a weapon between his hands
[OOC: This is Jim Moriarty from the BBC's Sherlock, he's a modern version of the books villain and is very very different in a lot of ways and a lot more obviously psychotic, M/F, M/M, BSDM either side, if someone can actually make Moriarty submit then hell to the yes but he's a natural dom. He'll be very fond of pain even to the point of knives but run stuff by me. Nothing that belongs in the toilet, other than that I have very few limits. Cannon Mates would be ALL OF THE LOVE!]