Professor James Moriarty

         ‘ AN AMATEUR in the field of deduction           is the least of our concerns. ’

     “-Not this realm, actually… I hail form Asgard.” It’s risky, telling a mortal such a truth from her lips-though, this one did not seem so harmful to her as previous others had before him. “I’m…a traveler of sorts. There’s energy within me I use to travel, to aid in the birth of stars & realms, & quite a bit more… “

   “Fantine,” she replied softly, not quite sure how to respond to such a movement. Had she been a child, she may have curtsied in response, joining in the game. But she was not a child, not anymore, and that playfulness was gone. “My name is Fantine.” 

The bathroom too, was massive. With a large silver clawed foot tub, and all the oils, powders and perfumes one could image. Moriarty enjoyed the comforts his money and power could get him, and he spared no expense.

moriarty’s parents are so creative they named all three of their children JAMES MORIARTY. you can clearly see he takes after them.

     “-This tea… it’s perfect; like nectar… “

“-Tea ? “ It’s a foreign drink to her, one that has the woman’s head tilting as bright cerulean hues give the male a swift once-over, one of curiosity before she finally places herself in the new chair. 

   “Y–Yes, Monsieur,” she replied, shaky hands adding the money to her purse lest he change his mind. 

“-but first, introductions,” he place a hand on his chest and offered her a slow, respectful bow “-I am Professor James Moriarty, may I know you name, beauty of the docks?”

   “I’m working, Monsieur,” Fantine replied, trying to focus on the one speaking, trying to focus on not attempting to tuck hair behind her ear. Hair that was now too short for such a thing. There was a nervousness in her voice, even she knew that, but for now it was not something she could help. The answer was as diplomatic as she could make it, her cheeks warming at his description of her. She had been long damaged, but he couldn’t know that

   Fantine wanted to stand, someone approaching, but another cough broke through her. Either he was a man she could try to convince to take her, new to the work as she was, or a policeman here to move her back towards the area her kind was normally found. Sickness would bring her no pity in this world, and especially not the bloodied handkerchief in her hand.

A fair woman.. damaged by society. Clearly ill, and needing help. When she almost felt, a simply look from him had the man on his left rush to her side to assist her “-you look damaged dear woman,” he said, his voice soft and even toned “-tell me.. do you have a home to go to? Or have the streets claimed you due to unfortunate circumstances?”

The relic is far from knowledgeable of Midgard, though she can give quite the guess as to her location upon the earth.

       ‘   EVOLUTION WAS wasted on your gene pool.