IC Contact

[unpuzzling]

Hopefully, this will be important.

[leave all means of private IC contact here. as a warning, Sherlock has stupid texting habits like a teenage girl. be prepared for really ridiculous acronyms.]

Comments

✉ ʟᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ. ᴅᴀʏ 400.

[considered]

[ this letter is different than than the first. no paint tracing on the outside but little drawings of ivy. as if her mind was preoccupied and she had to focus on a task to clear it. they have spoken of Jim Moriarty via the bracelets but he might have guessed her mind is racing with more thoughts than she let on. ]

Dear Sherlock,

I should firstly say, thank you for your letter. I can guess you knew what your letters meant for me when I was still imprisoned. I don't know if you will find it odd that they still do now. There is a claim to be made her, am I not still imprisoned? are we not all prisoners, we cannot truly go and come as we please.

You have written to me of admiring them for their ability to adapt. I wonder if I sound cold when I ask if it's not a disadvantage in a way? I can clearly see how the human ability to adapt would help in this city. We are quite like plants in that manner, even when unrooted, human may still blossom in the strangest of places.

But is this process not, in turn, make them forget that they are, at the end of the day, prisoners? does it not allow them to make a life here and start to think of that life as mandatory and perhaps even pleasing?

In that manner, Asgard is the perfect prison. It gives its inhabitants a goal and an important one at that and it can pass off as somewhat pleasing, even with the war. These efforts are perhaps admirable but are they not dangerous? Isn't there a devil in the details here? I don't know if I find it wise to get too comfortable. You will say the war does not allow for anyone to become comfortable, I know. but life in its shadow seems natural to so many here.

I understand that John Watson cannot offer the same insights as his female namesake did and that is not a surprise. They share a name and perhaps a role but they are not one and the same. As you said, I cannot offer you these insights either as I struggle with the same questions you do and not more successfully, I should add.

In your letter, you have asked me of the other Moriarty or the idea of one and now it seems Asgard had saw it fit to provide you with an answer. There is irony there, can Jim Moriarty be an answer? Or does he, perhaps, inspire even more questions?

You have recognized him in the spider. I do not hope that you did, I know so. You must have remembered I had my lieutenant draw the same metaphor for you, once. You have faulted me for claiming that a Holmes needs a Moriarty in a different way than he needs a Watson. I have thought of it and I stand behind my claim, still. Jim Moriarty is not an evidence of it or at least, not yet. It remains a thought and nothing more.

I cannot escape my name, I know of it. Perhaps, for a time, I wondered if I could. Sans a web and sans a need to admit to be Moriarty - perhaps I could have simply be Rosalyn. Jim Moriarty's arrival had shown me that I was wrong. The day would come where I'll use my name, I cannot tell you why I haven't the moment I saw him. I do not know myself.

Will you tell me of your days? I imagine you reading over cups of tea. I trust you imagine me painting and you are not in the wrong. But if there is something else that fills your hours that you will speak of, I will listen. I work on various pieces at a time. I found some paint here and some herbs to turn into pigments. They are sold mainly for food, I do not trust the one I bought them from knows I meant to turn them into paint.

I know this is not New York City dear, nothing here is alike. I was never assuming it was. But you must know I am glad that you are here in this city. If only because I think its concept interest you and also because it provides me with a way of voicing my thoughts of this to you.

I am certain, Sherlock, that you would bring many new shades into our gray city. Perhaps they would be hard-won but I do not doubt that they would be beautiful.

Do you sleep at all? I find it to be a trouble here.

Ever yours,

Jamie Moriarty