[ the letter will arrive two days after their return to the city and he would recognize the handwriting. they have not discussed the continuation of their correspondence, not quite but moriarty writes regardless. it is not too big of a challenge, finding someone who will deliver it from rosalyn's dwelling in house loki and all the way into odin.
but rosalyn exists only on the envelope; inside, the neat, curved handwriting is strictly moriarty. there are two pages in sum, their edges show trace of goldenrod. ]
Dear Sherlock,
We have not spoken of our correspondence but I assumed there is no reason for it to cease, do you find the same?
The purpose behind our arrival here has played in my mind since I left the castle; I know it must have in yours as well. Here, at last, is an examination of our connection to them. If we succeed, it will result in color returning to this world, pigments bursting through the gray. I couldn't help but think such task would be more appropriately given to your Watson rather than myself. The ones who call themselves Gods differ and I wonder, do you think their wrong? The cure to the gray disease is exactly the kind of connection you and I have been contemplating. The fact that the city is in colors in parts probably answers many of our questions.
You asked me what name do I use here and I hope you did not think I would say Irene. We have not spoken of her, you and I. I know you would prefer to think of her as something separate from me and you would are likely to think me ruthless when I say Irene has always been a part of myself. Naturally, she would have been perfect for this setting - by now she is quite the phoenix is she not? rising from the ashes into being; but the truth is darling, Irene was mine and yours. I would never share her with the simple minds who occupy this city. Rosalyn, for all the similarity, is not her. When I finally discard her, I would not spare her a second thought.
Irene is on my mind, darling; she plays on its edges in the same manner she does on yours. You cannot yet remember the time during which I told you Irene had the answers to all the questions I have been contemplating regarding human connections. Truly, she would have been able to offer this city simple solutions I cannot yet give.
You have seen me paint many time, Sherlock and yet I will tell you a secret, I still struggle when I need to apply myself into the world that is the artistic field. I wonder, what colors would you care for me to paint the city with?
I will tell you a second secret, I bear no affection towards the ones who share your name. I suspect it will not change when I will know them. Tell me, dear, what mind of reason would travel to Paris to gaze upon the Virgin of the Rocks and then be satisfied with the paper print they would attempt to sell at the gift shop?
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Date: 2014-01-17 10:24 pm (UTC)but rosalyn exists only on the envelope; inside, the neat, curved handwriting is strictly moriarty. there are two pages in sum, their edges show trace of goldenrod. ]
Dear Sherlock,
We have not spoken of our correspondence but I assumed there is no reason for it to cease, do you find the same?
The purpose behind our arrival here has played in my mind since I left the castle; I know it must have in yours as well. Here, at last, is an examination of our connection to them. If we succeed, it will result in color returning to this world, pigments bursting through the gray. I couldn't help but think such task would be more appropriately given to your Watson rather than myself. The ones who call themselves Gods differ and I wonder, do you think their wrong? The cure to the gray disease is exactly the kind of connection you and I have been contemplating. The fact that the city is in colors in parts probably answers many of our questions.
You asked me what name do I use here and I hope you did not think I would say Irene. We have not spoken of her, you and I. I know you would prefer to think of her as something separate from me and you would are likely to think me ruthless when I say Irene has always been a part of myself. Naturally, she would have been perfect for this setting - by now she is quite the phoenix is she not? rising from the ashes into being; but the truth is darling, Irene was mine and yours. I would never share her with the simple minds who occupy this city. Rosalyn, for all the similarity, is not her. When I finally discard her, I would not spare her a second thought.
Irene is on my mind, darling; she plays on its edges in the same manner she does on yours. You cannot yet remember the time during which I told you Irene had the answers to all the questions I have been contemplating regarding human connections. Truly, she would have been able to offer this city simple solutions I cannot yet give.
You have seen me paint many time, Sherlock and yet I will tell you a secret, I still struggle when I need to apply myself into the world that is the artistic field. I wonder, what colors would you care for me to paint the city with?
I will tell you a second secret, I bear no affection towards the ones who share your name. I suspect it will not change when I will know them. Tell me, dear, what mind of reason would travel to Paris to gaze upon the Virgin of the Rocks and then be satisfied with the paper print they would attempt to sell at the gift shop?
Until we meet again;
Yours,
Jamie Moriarty