the-devil-and-i:

Lucifer’s interest peaked when Moriarty began to describe his progress on the Horsemen. He was more than a little pleased to hear that the man had made such significant headway and he showed this in a considerate flick of his eyebrows as he continued steady eye-contact with him. Death was the big one, so to speak. War would come first, as tactically speaking, he was what was necessary at this time. What he needed was a way to split apart Dean and Sam Winchester, bring War into the game and play things correctly and they would take separate paths as they were destined to do. Once Dean was out of the picture, Sam would immediately be vulnerable and that would be the best point in time to strike.

He would need to bind him, all of them, to himself. That way, he would have some control over the actions. They were quite big pieces in this game, knights so to speak. And he would have to play them carefully in order to ensure his success in the bigger picture. But it was all coming together so smoothly, and he was really beginning to see the benefits of having strong connections like this man James Moriarty, and his enemy Sherlock Holmes. They were becoming invaluable in his little scheme. He knew he could find the time to raise War as soon as he could, and even if Sherlock and John agreed and they got the soonest flight to Kansas, he could easily use that ten-hour flight to bring about War’s reign.

His lips flicked into a sharp smile, “I’m very pleased with you,” he said, almost seductively, “and since you’ve put so much work into this so far, would you like to be present when I raise and bind War?” He supposed it wouldn’t be a bad thing to throw the man a bone, perhaps it would even fan the flames and work to his benefit.

Missouri wasn’t far from where he would be taking Watson and Holmes, realistically, once he had led them there, and after Dean and Sam had split ways and he had made first contact, he could bring in Death soon after. It would be almost perfect, it would show Sam how hopeless it was. No doubt the boy would run to the conflict, maybe even try to intercept him; then he could meet him in person. But it would only drive the shaft further between him and his brother, as it should rightly be. If he laid the horsemen down hard one after the other, they would break, and Sam would buckle. Perfect.

His eyes had slipped back down to his pyramid of cubes, hands unclasping as he fiddled with it, pushing it together, levelling the edges as best he could with their irregular shapes. There was a sharpness in Moriarty’s tone that Lucifer didn’t quite appreciate, and he looked back up at the man again, trying to get a reading on him through his body-language rather than just skipping to looking inside his head – which he was almost certain the man didn’t know he could do. His head tilted slightly to one side, before he finally just said, “I require an experienced finder, because there’s something I need which is hidden from my view,” he looked back down again, brushing him off, “nothing of your concern.”

Truth be told, he would rather use a blinded detective than give this unstable criminal any chance at gaining leverage over him – even if he could obtain Sam faster, even twist him into saying yes (though he doubted his capacity to do so as a mere Human), he didn’t want Moriarty to know this only hurdle which was keeping him back from achieving his goals. If the man had that, he had everything, and that was a risk he wouldn’t easily take.

Moriarty’s follow-up question betrayed his feelings a little more clearly. He had expected the man to at least be a little upset, he clearly wasn’t ‘all there’, and seemed more than a little meticulous when it came to this sort of scheme. So he could imagine that hearing this would be delayed would irritate him quite a bit, Lucifer knew he didn’t like having things out of his control, and surrendering this plan to Lucifer and then finding out that he wouldn’t deliver soon would be frustrating for such an anal man. But still, he didn’t appreciate the curtness in which he was addressed.

His gaze turned a little icy as he replied, “I intend to take them out of this country, and I intend to keep them alive until they have served their purpose – and the task I have set them is not going to be all that quick and simple; even for a man of such infinite intelligence,” his tone mocked Sherlock slightly, and there was a slight roll in his eyes as he spoke the last phrase – a Human trait he was almost certain he had picked up from spending time with either Sherlock or Jim. “And if this makes you unhappy,” he said, leaning back on his seat and shrugging with his palms facing up in an almost ‘what can you do?’ sort of gesture, “well…”

His eyes flitted back to meet Jim’s moving from amusement to challenge like a switch had been flipped. He didn’t like this man thinking he could demand such information. Sure, they were a partnership, but that hardly put them on equal footing. The power they had, was incomparable, because it was so utterly different. And that’s why they worked together so well, but they were both equally cocky and stubborn, both scrambling for the top. Lucifer just knew that that pedestal belonged to him. 

As Lucifer seemed to take interest in his news, Jim couldn’t help but feel a bit accomplished since he’d done so much in such a sort span of time. Well, it wasn’t as if he were working alone on this, many people who didn’t even know his face were busy reading and searching at his command. Once he’d concluded, he watched Lucifer’s face for any sign that the Devil was pleased with what he’d heard. A feeling of pride washed over him as the “man” across from him lifted an eyebrow once in a sign of surprise and a way of saying “well done” without actually speaking the words aloud. Of course, this feeling of accomplishment was kept to himself mostly, the only sign of his pleasure a small smile that turned up the corners of his lips. His slight smile widened into a crooked grin as Lucifer spoke words of praise shortly after the movement of his brow. 

At the offer to come with the Devil to raise War, Jim’s smile faded, returning to the slight one he’s had only moment before. Jim couldn’t help but feel as if this “present” came with strings attached mainly due to the fact that it was Lucifer presenting such an offer. After a moment’s thought, taking only about half a minute to come to a decision. “I’m glad to be of some service. Wouldn’t be fair if I left you to do all the work I asked of you while I sat and did nothing, now would it?” It was a rhetorical question that needed no answer. “As for this present you’re presenting, I would love to accompany you and observe the raising and binding of this Horseman.” His own voice was a purr, matching Lucifer’s almost seductive tone, if not being completely so.

Once the conversation proceeded to Jim questioning about Lucifer’s said delay, his more pleasant mood receded and was replaced by the flicker of anger and annoyance at being told Lucifer would be taking longer than expected, a sort of delay popping up at the same time the Devil had made contact with the consulting detective and the army doctor. Jim had expected that both would be finished with their side of the deal at relatively the same time, which should have been only a couple weeks. At least, that’s how long it would take Moriarty to finished finding everything needed for the last two Horsemen. For all he knew, those he had working for him might have made some sort of breakthrough in the time he’d been sitting here, waiting for Satan to show.

His gaze remained on the angel before him, dark eyes slightly narrowed, waiting to see how the Devil would respond to his questions and his tone of voice by the end of his questioning. As of right now, he feared nothing, not even the wrath of Lucifer, for he had an ace up his sleeve, a trump card, that could very easily ruin the fallen Angel in a matter of seconds. Of course, said action wouldn’t be required just yet. It wouldn’t be needed until Lucifer decided to piss Jim off enough that such a weapon should be used. So, he simply waited for the response of the angel, who seemed quite concerned for a moment about his pyramid of sugar.

Upon hearing Lucifer explain in extremely vague terms what he’d be using Sherlock for, Jim leaned his chin upon one of his hands, the other drumming slightly on the other arm of his chair. Nothing of his concern? The consulting criminal mentally scoffed at that statement. Surely it was of his concern if it would be effecting a plan of his, causing it to be more time and effort and money than need be. Despite his evident irritation, he remained silent, wanting to hear what the Devil would say concerning his second question.

The second question was answered with more clear terms, explaining a bit more what Sherlock was actually going to be used for. His annoyance at not being told what was actually happening and the true reason for the delay ebbed ever so slightly. Still, the true reason was still unknown to him and Lucifer didn’t seem all that inclined to respond. For a moment, the thought of allowing this to pass without any sort of retaliation passed through Jim’s mind, even thinking about saying it to the Devil, somewhat apologizing for acting as rudely as he’d done. Of course, that crumbled a simply as the cubes of sugar making up Lucifer’s pyramid and all because the fallen angel had to mock him, telling him there was nothing the man could do to alter Lucifer’s plans.

Lifting his head from his hand, he once more folded them before him, resting them on his lap. He pursed his lips as if he were thinking about something, as if attempting to find the right words to say. His eyes had drifted to the table before him after Lucifer ad finished speaking, so before he began to speak himself, his gaze returned to Lucifer’s face, meeting the Devil’s own gaze. “I have to thank you for at least explaining part of what it is you’re intending to do; I don’t feel as left in the dark as I did moments before.” He paused, dark eyes cold, gaze stony and unblinking, as he looked at the fallen angel. Sure, the difference in power was immense between both parties and for a week, it had worked quite well. Now, though, the two were butting heads, attempting to win out over the other in hopes of becoming the dominant player. And it would continue as such until one gave up or was so much higher than the other, such quarrels were useless. Jim wasn’t one to lay belly-side up, though, for someone else, so he would keep fighting for the advantage until he had nothing else to do.

“And I will admit, I’m not very pleased with the fact there will be delays, but I do understand that it happens. Of course, I would understand it completely of you would explain exactly what it is you’re searching for. Not that I would go after it myself, you have Sherlock for that now, but I would like to be completely removed from the shadows in this instance. You must understand that, don’t you?” His brow furrowed and a frown came to his lips as he finished, but the expressions were fake and hopefully Lucifer would be able to pick up on that. “But, since I’m not all that happy and it seems as if you believe there is nothing I can do, let me change your mind on the subject.” His voice had turned deadly, as if poison dripped from every word, challenging the Devil, attempting to prove that a human could very well end an Arch angel as simply as an Arc angel could end a human

With a snake-like grin, he leaned over the side of his chair and, with one of his hands, careful removed the angel blade from it’s hiding place on the bottom of his chair. Rising slowly to return to his original position in the chair, Jim admired the blade as it came into view above the table, easy for both to see the celestial weapon. It gleamed and shined with what seemed to be some sort of inner radiance, a silvery glow cast on the table and the consulting criminal’s arm. Twisting his wrist, he inspected each edge of the blade, smile still plastered on his lips. “Amazing interments, this. Can’t break them, can’t scratch them, can’t even get them dirty. Well, except with blood, but it doesn’t cause the metal to rust. I must say, your race’s craftsman ship is amazing.” Jim paused, eyes moving from blade to Lucifer, a deadly look in his eyes. “Oh, and the part I find most interesting about this blade: it can kill angels. But I’m sure you already knew that.”

(Source: consultingcriminal-atyourservice)

the-devil-and-i:

Two men in an abandoned café, one dressed-up, one dressed-down - stop me if you’ve heard this one. It wasn’t exactly the least-conspicuous setting for two criminals of their own worlds, sitting together to discuss the demise of another. Lucifer didn’t care much about his appearance, in fact people seemed to avoid him somewhat, so whatever fashion faux-pas he was committing, it was working to his advantage. Jim Moriarty seemed quite his opposite though, well groomed, immaculately dressed, clean-shaven and just presentable. 

Lucifer could see the intensity of James’ stare without having to look up from his fiddling fingers. And his lips spread into a shallow smile, “don’t worry, I have plans for your little friends.” And in truth he did, he had been toying with ideas for a while, Moriarty’s one request was that Lucifer find a way to destroy his reputation, take him to the peak in his career and then bring his fall. That he was still figuring out. It was the plans for his afterlife he’d been setting in place. 

He slid over the bowl of sugar cubes with one finger, flinging it towards him, before he carefully unloaded it one-by-one. And he started to build as he waited for the man to finish speaking. He inclined his head slightly to the left when Jim finished for a bit, telling him he hadn’t taken offence. He’d be more offended if he was referred to as an ‘ordinary person’ or a person at all. He didn’t speak still, getting the sense that the man wasn’t finished.

Lucifer’s finger paused for a beat, holding a cube, hovering above his little project and waiting to be placed. Moriarty was silent for a moment and then asked a further question. Lucifer had been waiting for it, he knew if he didn’t bring it up directly, Moriarty would worm his way there eventually. He didn’t speak for a moment, just finished placing the cube down delicately. And then he finally looked the man in the eye.

“You’re half right,” was all he said. Just staring at the man for a moment to drive the point home. His body was rigid in that stare, and then he suddenly became fluid again and looked away, back to working on his sculpture, “I presented myself as a client, a Human client. And though the case is essentially fabricated, what I want is real.”

He looked back up again, pulling himself away for the sugar, and clasping his hands together on the table, fingers delicately interlaced. The thing was, despite his slobbish appearance, he was actually quite graceful - no pun intended- there was a definite flow to all of his movements that made him look a lot lighter than he probably was. “So there may be a delay in this side of the agreement. In fact, there will be a delay.” Assuming Sherlock followed through in his agreement to take the case. Which Lucifer was certain he would, after all, the fact that Holmes and Watson could see something wasn’t quite right with dear old Morgan Campbell was what would intrigue them to really find out the truth. And locate Sam while doing so. 

He watched Jim through his half-lidded eyes, expression as bored as it ever was, though he would admit to being curious as to how the man might react to this news. Lucifer already knew him to be quite unstable. 

Of course, as was mentioned, Jim was as dressed-up as he could possibly get, what with his dust-free Westwood and perfectly shiny shoes and neat tie, it was impossible not to perceive him as a man who liked to look as best he could. Though, it was just as likely that Jim only dressed as he did to flaunt the money he possessed and had acquired through his work. Lucifer, though, would never need such trivial things to prove his power and position, which was the reason the consulting criminal kept quiet even despite the voice that was nagging at him from the back of his skull telling him how terribly horrible his clothing choice was.

Waiting to hear a response, his dark eyes never left Lucifer, gaze slightly lidded so it didn’t seem as intense. He was doing quite well in keeping himself at a level state currently rather than fluctuating between moods, which was quite common for Moriarty, the insane criminal. It was even at the point where it surprised himself, if only slightly. Either way, it didn’t matter if his true self shone through or not since the Devil knew entirely well the unstable mind of the man at the table, mind set on one thing, a thing he’d been obsessing over for quite some time now. So, at the mention of having plans for Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, his whole demeanor brightened some what, the half-lidded eyes now opened fully, posture a tad bit more straight, an interested expression on his face. Even if the plans were for their afterlives, it was still plans, ideas for the man and said man’s companion. “Oh, is that so? Perfect. Glad to hear you’re making some headway on your side.” He didn’t ask what Lucifer’s plans were, seeing as there were plans which meant the Angel was still thinking and deciding the perfect way to bring Sherlock Holmes down. No need to get his hopes up over an idea that wouldn’t even go through anyways.

It was quiet between the pair once more, Jim taking up his fresh cup of tea and taking a small sip of it simply to wet his pallet before adding, “While you were making you acquaintance with Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson, I was able to get a bit of my side of the deal done. The city for War to be brought up from, Arundel, is all set and ready to be torn apart for the Horseman. Was waiting to let you know about it before we turned people on one another.” He paused for a moment, allowing the celestial being across from him to get it all and then continued. “As for the other Horsemen, I’ve gotten a bit closer to finding where Pestilence and Famine need to be raised from, but Death was quite easy to locate. Actually, he’s already free, but that doesn’t change the fact he needs to be summoned to Carthage, Missouri, where you can bind him to you or talk him into working with you, whichever it is.” Jim stopped talking then, having reported all he needed to for the time being to Lucifer. As he made more progress, he’d let the Devil know simply through a prayer or by summoning him with a prayer.

Again, there was silence between the two “villains”, one unmoving, the other stacking the cubes of sugar into a pyramid as if bored. As the blue eyes of the Devil met his own, Jim didn’t react, simply gazed back and listened to what the fallen angel had to say to him. Yet, despite not looking away from his eyes, Moriarty noticed how still Satan had become, his entire body like stone, as if trying to prove something to the man, that he’d only been partly correct in his assumptions about how Lucifer was able to talk to Sherlock without raising suspicion without the detective seeing through his guise. As the Devil pointed out the fact he’d gone to Sherlock acting as a client, Jim found it entirely unnecessary for the angel to point out the fact he had gone acting as a human. Despite that fact, though, Jim kept his mouth shut and simply allowed Lucifer to continue without interruption.

While the news that the Devil’s side of the agreement would be delayed to whatever falsified case he’d presented to the consulting detective annoyed and somewhat upset the man, Jim allowed none of that to show through in his body language. Instead, he drummed his fingers on the arms of his chair as if thinking over something, if not what the Devil had just told him. While there might be a way to get his way and have Lucifer stay on task, James had to think about whether doing so would be a smart decision on his part or if it would only result in him getting nothing of what he was hoping for, either because he’d be forced to kill his help or because his help would kill him before he’d be able to do anything about it. He ceased drumming his fingers and leaned forward a bit in his chair, hands now folded on his lap. “What was it you want that you need Sherlock Holmes to help you find?” The consulting criminal spoke without much inflection, as if he was bored, but there was still a sort of demanding undertone that said he wanted to be told a straight answer rather than some evasive statement. 

“And why might this delay what it is I’ve asked of you?” This question was asked in a slightly different tone. Jim allowed some of his annoyance and anger to slip and taint the words as they left his lips. While he didn’t want Lucifer to know just how upset he was, Moriarty still wanted to portray that he wasn’t all that pleased with this sudden change in plans. Of course, if the Devil did decide to be evasive and answer with not-truths, that would be when his threat would present itself; all he had to do was reach around the side of his chair and he’d be able to hold it before him, a nonverbal threat to the Arch Angel for not doing as had originally been agreed upon.

(Source: consultingcriminal-atyourservice)

consulting-detective-sh started following you.

Oh, well, look who it is. Hello, Sherlock, my dear.
And might I inquire how are you this fine evening?

plunderingpretty started following you.

Hello, name’s Jim Moriarty. And you are?

captainoftime:

consultingcriminal-atyourservice:

 captainoftime started following you.

Name’s James Moriarty, but Jim works just as well.

Captain Eloise, at your service. Figuratively.

Oh, you tease, Eloise. If you don’t mind my asking, and I doubt you would since you announced yourself as such, what exactly are you the captain of?

 captainoftime started following you.

Name’s James Moriarty, but Jim works just as well.

the-devil-and-i:

((Following on from this~))

“You’re supposed to finish with ‘amen’,” Lucifer smirked from across the table, like the Cheshire Cat. “Not the most eloquent of prayers, but I suppose it will do.”

The smile faded as his eyes drifted lazily over the café he’d been summoned to. He rested his head between the thumb and forefinger on one hand, leaning into the table. It was of course an improvement to how they had met the previous time - because he wasn’t sitting in a flaming circle of holy oil, and he wasn’t surrounded by enochian sigils, or anything of the sort. But right then, he thought he might prefer the isolation of a dank basement to being forced to sit with these Human’s. Irritated by how they tried to replace Him, worshipping eachother, themselves, machines. It was blasphemy, and their never-ending curiosity with everything. Knowledge they would have been blessed with if He had wanted them to know. They were such lowly creatures, yet they thought they were of such huge importance.

How had he ever been expected to love them above himself?

More disconcertingly, how had he been replaced by them in his families eyes - by his brothers, and Father, and Michael? He was almost disgusted with himself for having to associate with these beings, even the one before him who he found to be not quite as disdainful as the rest. But if this was the cost of being able to restore the Earth to how it was supposed to be - so be it. He would do what he had to to bring back the beauty on Earth only once matched by Eden. 

Of course Jim Moriarty had called him here with the promise of interesting news, but he of course expected the same in return. Lucifer’s plans for burning Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. But what had he to give the man but the beginnings of ideas and the news that there would inevitably be a delay if Sherlock took his bate to find Sam. Because right now, with burns forming on his temporary vessel, finding Winchester was his top priority. The Horsemen close by. But he could see that raising them was going to happen much sooner. So he would have to concentrate on them simultaneously. 

“I’ve just come from meeting your little detective friend, and his partner,” Lucifer said, half-lidded blue eyes trailing across the café. His free hand was fiddling with a brown sugar cube, with some mild curiosity. Was it not enough that He had given them the blessing of Sugar canes that they had to strip them from the land, and manufacture them into convenient cubes. Such a travesty. So far from what they were intended to be. So alien and horrible.

But that didn’t stop him from flicking it and pressing his finger into it gently until it started to crumble. 

“Curious things,” he said in his own time, gaze drifting to the trails of sugar across the table, pushing them together, pulling it apart. “The taller one quite intelligent by your kind’s standards, but disappointingly knew nothing of my world. I’m sure he had some suspicions after meeting me, but he couldn’t quite see through the act.” He spoke slowly, his voice a lazy drone. But he was certainly glad to hold up the tiring ‘Southern Hick’ act he’d been playing for Sherlock and John. It was so tiring to pretend to be one of them, to constantly have to lower one’s intelligence to the point where you feel there might be no return from the murky abyss of utter stupidity.

He stretched his upper back again slightly, on thinking of the small arch he’d adopted. Nick hadn’t been so fond of that. Apparently he had a bit of a bad back anyway. 

“I think I frustrated him,” he said after a time, still looking at the sugar he was spreading across the table as a smile graced his lips, “oh dear.”

His snake-like grin still sat upon his lips, even as the Devil appeared out of thin air, the sound of ruffling feathers announcing the being before he even appeared in the seat opposite of him. Before he spoke, he waved his hand briefly at the criticism of his prayer as if to shoo the comments away. “Never been one for prayers, so I wasn’t quite sure on how to go about doing it.” he said with a shrug, shoulder raising a a fraction and then lowering. As he began to speak, the other people in the cafe got up from their seats and left the small building. They were actors, people to make the place look less empty and suspicious, but as soon as Moriarty began to conduct business of some form, they new that was the cue to leave. 

Jim sat motionless in his chair, grin fading to a rather blank, almost bored expression, as he watched Lucifer take in his surroundings, most likely unamused by the set of their meeting this time, out in the open in front of others. Well, not so much anymore now that the possible spectators had left, leaving the two to have their chat without fear of others that had nothing to do with their dealings overhearing. Sure, the basement would have been a better choice had Jim been afraid of others catching on, but he figured no one would truly understand their conversation without having some previous knowledge on either men. Or man and angel. While watching Satan, James couldn’t help but notice the burn-like markings on the Angel’s face. Those hadn’t been there a week ago. Had Lucifer gotten into some sort of scruff with holy oil or another angel? Or did it have something to do with the extremely powerful celestial being occupying a human body? Too much stress on the pathetic slab of meat and air? Jim couldn’t be sure, he wasn’t all knowing when it came to Angel’s and their vessels, just on how to summon one and how to kill summoned angel should things proceed in that direction.

As Lucifer mentioned having met with the detective and army doctor, Jim showed a bit more interest, unfolding his legs and leaning forward a bit, folded hands resting on the table. He waited to see if the Devil was going to add on to his statement, dark eyes on the sugar cube in the Devil’s fingers, before speaking himself. “Ah, isn’t that grand. And what did you think of them?” He wasn’t going to jump into the subject of the how the Devil, should he have come up with and idea, would proceed in burning the man’s heart out with John was confronted with some sort of collateral damage in the process. The consulting criminal was expecting the Devil to have at least come to a decision or at least narrowed it down by now, much like how Jim had been able to narrow down the locations of Pestilence and Famine while the locations for War and Death had been decided.

Silence began to stretch between the two as Lucifer continued to be fascinated or simply intrigued by the cube of sugar, rolling it between thumb and forefinger before crushing it into individual granules. While the silence would have normally been fine with Jim, he couldn’t help but feel a bit edgy, a flicker of excitement in his belly at the prospect of getting ever so closer to ruining Sherlock Holmes. So, rather than sit there and allow the pent up energy to show through his calm demeanor, Moriarty unfolded his hands and reached over to the tea kettle set out on the table along with his empty cup. Pouring himself a fresh cup of the steaming liquid, he pulled the cup to him and proceeded to add a couple cubes of sugar and a dash of cream to the drink, using the spoon he had to stir the tea, sugar, and cream into a mixture of light brown liquid. By the time Lucifer began to speak again, his tea was ready and he lifted it to his lips to sip idly and listen to the Devil’s thoughts on his targets.

It surprised Jim slightly that the detective didn’t know anything about the supernatural realm of the world. Surely it wouldn’t be too hard for the man to learn of it. Then again, though, Jim hadn’t known much of it before he’d begun his research on dealing with the darker side of the world, so maybe Sherlock didn’t know because he never needed to know. Well, if that was the case, that surely meant Jim had something he didn’t have and would likely not have for some time. Again, another surprise. Holmes hadn’t been able to see through the Devil’s act? Either Lucifer was a magnificent actor (better than Jim himself) or Sherlock was being careless, a prospect that seemed highly unlikely and would have made Jim grimace if he hadn’t been keen on keeping himself composed. If that was the case, that meant that Sherlock was a waste of time, not as extraordinary as previously perceived. Shoving those thoughts away, Jim set the cup back onto its saucer.

“That is a bit disappointing, both that he knew nothing about the supernatural and didn’t see through to what you’re true intentions were. Either Sherlock is putting too much faith in what you were telling him or he’s losing his touch. But, in a way, both of those things help you get closer to him without alarming him anymore than any ordinary person would, no offense.” Leaning back in his chair once more, Jim set either hand on the arms of his chair, fingers digging into the slightly cushioned frame. 

A smirk teased the corners of his mouth up. “Not very hard to do, really. Man doesn’t deal well with others,” the consulting detective remarked with a single-shouldered shrug, tilting his head to the side. “I’m curious as to who you presented yourself as to talk to the man. Normally he won’t have anything to do with a random person off the street unless they’ve got a case for him to work on…“  The smirk was gone and was replaced with a serious look of curiosity, brows furrowing slightly so there was a crease between them. This was indeed something that could be interesting to the well-dressed man. “Did you wave an interesting yet fake case in front of his nose to incite interest in you?”

(Source: consultingcriminal-atyourservice)

It’d been a week since he’d performed the ritual and summoned the all powerful celestial being to the basement of a law firm in London. The meeting had gone rather swimmingly, both laying out what it was they wanted to accomplish and what the other would be willing to do to acquire the assistance being asked for. The specific tasks Jim had requested from the Arch Angel was to burn Sherlock’s heart out in any way that seemed fit to the man, other than literally setting fire to the rhythmic beating organ and letting him die from that. No, it had to be something dramatic, something that would be made into a fairy tale in the papers of London, possibly something reminiscent of an old fairy tale title. Yet, for the fallen Angel to accept such a demand, Jim had offer his own share. Luckily, he’d come prepared and had done a great bit of research on the topic of the Apocalypse as described by the Bible and other religious fanatics information, which was why he was able to offer helping the Devil bring forth War, a Horseman of the Apocalypse. Of course, it would have been expected that Lucifer took advantage of the consulting criminal and pretty much make him his pet, seeing as now Jim Moriarty had been told to find the rituals and sacrifices for all the Horsemen: Pestilence, War, Death, and Famine. But, even despite that, James cared very little about becoming a human pawn to the Devil and quite enjoyed the prospect of what the Arch Angel could think up for the dear Sherlock Holmes and his pet, John Watson.

Now, back to the subject of Lucifer and the Horsemen. Jim had, as mentioned to the Devil, found a perfect place for War to be brought up from, especially since this Horseman didn’t require a specific location for the ritual to work. The location in question was a little place, a market town in West Sussex, known as Arundel. It was a quaint town and very little knows came out of it and anything that did was good news. Another qualification was that everyone was pretty friendly in Arundel, all friends with one another and never really terrible arguments and disagreements to be accounted for. All in all, a perfect place for War to come about. And, as it were, in the past week, the Napoleon of Crime had finished setting things up and had people waiting for an order to start the chaos that would spark the main part of the summoning ritual for the Horseman of War. All he had to do now in regards to the quaint town would be to ask when Lucifer wanted the ritual to be started. As for the other three, research was still being done, though there was more information on them than a week previous, especially on Death. Jim had a location and a ritual for the Pale Horseman, which was the same as when Lucifer brought him back the first time, even though this particular Horseman had outlived his companions during the prep for the Apocalypse right after Lucifer was freed from the cage. Despite that, though, the ritual Jim had found was actually for binding Death to Lucifer and make the Horseman do as was commanded of him. The last two, Pestilence and Famine, weren’t all that picky when it came to where they were brought up from, but they did require specific sacrifices before they were able to walk the earth once more. Moriarty had people working on that currently, getting closer and closer to the full details with each passing day.

At the moment, while imagining what the Devil could have thought up for the flatmates, Jim sat in a small cafe, no one but he and a few other people occupied the booths and small tables set out. Despite the size and location of the establishment, it was a very high-end one in London, mainly because Jim indirectly owned it. But, no one would ever be able to track it back to him, there were too many hoops to jump to even get a whiff of where James Moriarty came into the story. The reason he owned it was so he could sit and think and not be bothered by others he didn’t want anything to do with, the ordinary people stalking the street like a sickness. It was also a perfect location to meet with people face to face without sparking much suspicion. 

As for why he was there at the moment, a steaming cup of tea with a splash cream and two sugars, was for the express reason: to meet with someone. Of course, he hadn’t contacted said someone and wouldn’t until he knew exactly how to go about doing it. He’d never been religious and had barely allowed a thought to be wasted on the subject or anything pertaining to it, so when Lucifer had told him the best way to contact the Angel would be to pray to him, Jim was a tad skeptical in his abilities to do such a thing. Though, he figured it couldn’t be much different than calling someone and leaving a message for them on the machine. His fingers were steepled before his face, eyes unfocused and glazed as he thought, mind whirling about multiple different things at once while at the forefront of his thoughts was contacting Satan. After sitting for a minute or so more in that position, he closed his eyes and leaned back in the small cushioned chair. There was only one way to find out how his praying worked and that was to actually pray to the Devil. A bit of a smirk played about his lips as the thought came to mind. Before sending a message to the Angel, he cleared his mind and then projected his prayer into the emptiness that was his mind.

‘Lucifer, I’d like to meet with you and go over what either of us have gathered in the past week. You know, short of like a check in. Wouldn’t mind knowing if you’ve come up with in the burning of Sherlock. And I, myself, have some interesting news to share with you. I assume you know where I am, so I’ll be waiting.’

Right as the prayer was finished, Jim’s eyes snapped open, looking about him to make sure everything was in order before the Arch Angel decided to show up. He came to the conclusion, though, as he cast his eyes about, that he didn’t much care whether Lucifer found the cafe to be of his liking or not, that wasn’t what they’d be discussing one he arrived. And, sure, Jim had done as he was told and didn’t bother using holy oils or enochian sigils or other forms of angelic items to trap the Arch Angel here but that hadn’t stopped the consulting criminal from looking into items that could actually harm and kill an angel. He’d done a bit of digging before summoning the Devil, but had come across very little. After their encounter and dealings, Moriarty had done some more digging and came across a specific celestial artifact know to be lethal to any and all angels: the Angel Blades. Rare items and extremely hard to come by, but that didn’t apply to Jim, not when he had all the tendrils he needed to get whatever he wanted for whatever the price. And, so, after some dealing and removal of useless people from the Earth, James Moriarty had gotten his hands on an Angel Blade. It was a fantastic looking weapon, strange shape and weight to be called a blade but still the perfect weapon. The silver gleamed with a holy light, shimmering and reflecting any form of light and no matter how dull the light source. And that said blade was tucked away beside him, hidden in the side of the chair he stood and impossible to notice unless you were Jim Moriarty. 

So, when Lucifer did show up, the Angel would think he was the superior being and had nothing to worry about, what with Jim being a lowly human. Jim would act the fool and make no motion that he had the Blade. That is, unless Lucifer went against what was being asked by the consulting criminal, then Jim would have the upper hand, something to hang above the Devil’s head as a warning. A reptilian grin came to his lips as he lounged in his chair, hands folded in his lap and legs crossed as he waited for the fallen Arch Angel to appear.