![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fic : Of a Mind
Jan. 22nd, 2012 08:33 pmtitle: Of a Mind
author: esklerchaues
word count: 451
disclaimer: I certainly would not dare claim profit or ownership of any recognizable plots/characters.
summary: Moriarty is a piece of work
notes : After seeing the Reichenbach Fall, writing about Moriarty seemed compulsory....
He knows. He knows weapons, numbers and maps. What does not require knowing, he sees. He sees mannerisms, chess moves and opportunities. What cannot be seen, he perceives. He perceives the slightest tremor of the furthest thread of his worldwide web.
He is infallible, but his plans rarely are. It is, in itself, a necessity. He could rely on himself only, but where would be the fun in that? In this age of communication, why would he pass out on the risk of exploiting people? Or rather, he is willing to bet they are predictable, that he can subdue as may minds as he will to the workings of his own.
For a while, he delights in being self-sufficient. He has his hands full of so many ploys and plots he occasionally has to give up one of them lest he compromises another. He is a construction of many faces and many voices. They might add up to produce Jim Moriarty. But they might as well dissolve into nothing, into an elusive man and maybe less than a man, less than Moriarty – the survival of the elaborate strategies often requires that he forsakes all but the sullen skin over his bones.
The schemes rarely make him happy, though they do satisfy him to an extent. His adversaries are pliant, and slow. He is his own stimulation and that rules out any hopes of being surprised.
He compensates by indulging himself. When he does, he wants it to be visible, even to the eyes of the ignoramus. It is there in the cut of his suit, in the expensive shoes and in the way he will suddenly flaunt the Moriarty persona to the media.
Along comes Sherlock Holmes. His mind is a wonder of straight lines and arrows pointing in logically conceived directions. Moriarty visualizes it as the map of a sixteenth century Renaissance city, and reads it that way, too. Sherlock Holmes does not leave much room for spontaneity, but at least he THINKS. Even if his mind is an open book.
He wishes he could sweet talk him into being his nemesis. He starts planning. He enjoys himself. He sets a scheme into motion and he already has a few others in mind that could entertain them for months if Sherlock would play along.
Of course, Sherlock Holmes falls short of his expectations. He feels impatience, disappointment, with an unhealthy measure of loveliness. The problem remains unsolved – the only one that matters, the final one, he thinks as he waits on the edge of the rooftop, one leg dangling in the air, not looking at the ground but at his finely polished shoe. The rest –life – is an unending bore.
author: esklerchaues
word count: 451
disclaimer: I certainly would not dare claim profit or ownership of any recognizable plots/characters.
summary: Moriarty is a piece of work
notes : After seeing the Reichenbach Fall, writing about Moriarty seemed compulsory....
He knows. He knows weapons, numbers and maps. What does not require knowing, he sees. He sees mannerisms, chess moves and opportunities. What cannot be seen, he perceives. He perceives the slightest tremor of the furthest thread of his worldwide web.
He is infallible, but his plans rarely are. It is, in itself, a necessity. He could rely on himself only, but where would be the fun in that? In this age of communication, why would he pass out on the risk of exploiting people? Or rather, he is willing to bet they are predictable, that he can subdue as may minds as he will to the workings of his own.
For a while, he delights in being self-sufficient. He has his hands full of so many ploys and plots he occasionally has to give up one of them lest he compromises another. He is a construction of many faces and many voices. They might add up to produce Jim Moriarty. But they might as well dissolve into nothing, into an elusive man and maybe less than a man, less than Moriarty – the survival of the elaborate strategies often requires that he forsakes all but the sullen skin over his bones.
The schemes rarely make him happy, though they do satisfy him to an extent. His adversaries are pliant, and slow. He is his own stimulation and that rules out any hopes of being surprised.
He compensates by indulging himself. When he does, he wants it to be visible, even to the eyes of the ignoramus. It is there in the cut of his suit, in the expensive shoes and in the way he will suddenly flaunt the Moriarty persona to the media.
Along comes Sherlock Holmes. His mind is a wonder of straight lines and arrows pointing in logically conceived directions. Moriarty visualizes it as the map of a sixteenth century Renaissance city, and reads it that way, too. Sherlock Holmes does not leave much room for spontaneity, but at least he THINKS. Even if his mind is an open book.
He wishes he could sweet talk him into being his nemesis. He starts planning. He enjoys himself. He sets a scheme into motion and he already has a few others in mind that could entertain them for months if Sherlock would play along.
Of course, Sherlock Holmes falls short of his expectations. He feels impatience, disappointment, with an unhealthy measure of loveliness. The problem remains unsolved – the only one that matters, the final one, he thinks as he waits on the edge of the rooftop, one leg dangling in the air, not looking at the ground but at his finely polished shoe. The rest –life – is an unending bore.
