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Molly Hooper


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May 7 2014, 03:40 PM
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<table><tr><td><div class="jazfontsgaloretags">tag</div></td><td><div class="jazfontsgaloretags">###</div></td></tr><tr><td><div class="jazfontsgaloretags"><marquee scrollamount="4">notes</marquee></div></td><td><a href=""><div class="jazfontsgaloretags">thanks jazmine</div></a></td></tr></table></div></div>

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There were missions to be accomplished. She knew this was never going to be easy. She had known it the second she had been sent forth with the role of Molly Hooper well and truly down. Moriarty had had Moran terrify the life out of her just to make sure she wouldn't break character. She had allowed herself to be hauled around, punched and threatened. It had got easier with time. Cruel words had been said, threats had been made and still, when the tears poured down her cheeks until they were harsh and bitter, she did not rise up and strike like the venomous spider she is. She took it all because he wanted her to. Because she had to.

<p>It would end, soon, she thought. Things were moving faster now and in a different direction. They couldn't live like this forever: trapped with locked horns with her waiting on the sidelines to make her move. To be honest, if Moriarty wasn't so obsessed with getting Holmes himself he would realise the most sensible thing to do would be to have her slide a knife into his gut a few times over. NO one would see it coming and so no one would be able to stop her. She could do it alone too, stage it to look like they had both been attacked.Traumatised and unable to cope Molly would move away never to be seen or heard from again. Her fate unknown while they lingered in darkness and in doubt over who killed their precious arrogant ass hat. It was perfect really. but no. More games were to be played. Well, she did like watching Sherlock dance. His eyes were the best part.

<p>So open, so human, like a child's. They betrayed every emotion, every thought in his head and he didn't even realise it. He wasn't that skilled of an actor. Oh he was good, as long as you were listening to what he was saying and not reading what he wasn't. But Annaliese could see passed it and that was a problem for Sherlock Holmes. He may have beaten Jim but the uncertainty of it all had him spooked. He hadn't been sure if he would be able to get out of it alive and that had frightened him. His heart burning away and he hadn't even realised it. He was different now. Pieces missing. She wondered if he knew.

<p>He certainly didn't know she was out for his blood. And getting that blood she would do anything. Even walk off with an innocent little girl and hold her to ransom, terrorise her if she had to...kill her. And she wouldn't blame herself. She would blame the adults. They were the ones responsible. They should have known. They should always know. But did they know Jamie Watson was about to be approached by a good looking but altogether adult male? He was just an ordinary guy, paid to do what he was told and forget out it later but they weren't to know that. His role was to attempt to get Jamie to leave with him and she was to swoop in and save the day. Who do you belong to, honey? and from there the spark would ignite into a flame. it was just a walk home. This time. This time Jamie got to have a safe night in bed all tucked up and warm. Next time there be monsters.


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May 5 2014, 12:42 PM
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James Moriarty, brother to Jim, is the surviving twin and brother to Jennifer Moriarty. He's fly, slick and altogether cruel. The majority of his personality will be up to you. There is one thing that's non negotiable and that is his relationship with one Annaliese Finna Michaels AKA Molly Hooper. Molly is a sleeper agent working for Moriarty and is in a relationship with the mastermind (and was with Jim too!). She's openly been with them both since the beginning and has catered her career and life towards his needs. She's spent the past 7 years + under Sherlock's nose and he hasn't got a clue. But that's all about the change.
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May 5 2014, 09:50 AM
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<div style="border-left: 3px double black; padding-left: 10px; padding-right: 10px; border-right: 1px dotted black; font-size: 12px;">Molly was having a tough day. At first it looked as though she was going to have to spend all day buried waist deep in dead bodies. There was a certain quality to anyone who dealt with the dead: detatchment but Annaliese had worked hard at making sure Molly never came across that way at all. She was simply terrified of living patients. The fact the dead couldn't verbally retort was perfect for the often stuttering and shy mortician whose role was to gather information littered across what was once a person. Sometimes she would read up on them, wonder what their lives had been like. did they deserve the death that had swept them off their feet? Had they had it coming to them? It wasn't like she actually cared. Most people thought Molly was trying to rectify the fact they were dead with her heart but really Annaliese was determining whether or not to expect a visit from Sherlock that day. Also, if it would be worth it to allow Sherlock to 'borrow' a body part here and there. The poor sod had no idea he was destroying evidence.

<p>It wasn't necessarily Moriarty's evidence either. The criminal network was vast and sometimes she got their bodies to deal with to. It was simple to fake records when you knew how and no one would ever expect you of doing so. She had the means and the know how to make one death look liek something else. It wasn't the first time she had had to put natural causes down when it was in fact a barely traceable poison. Molly was good but she wasn't that good. Annaliese just so happened to be better.

<p>Road accident. A car pile up she wasn't entirely sure was accidental but either way it brought her work. That had been yesterday morning. They had come in, two at once, on two hours later and a third just when she was finished - all dead. That last one was a gunshot wound that should never have made it to St Barts in the first place. It looked like Moran's work to her and was surprised he had been so sloppy. The cleaners clearly weren't doing their job properly. Or maybe it was always intended for her. Either way she had double the work to do to ensure it didn't get back to her boss. She only ever left evidence when she was told to, or when it would appear otherwise suspicious. Criminal investigations were annoying. They brought that bitch Donavon and her lumbering boss Lestrade around for questions and vibrating indignations. Oh one day she was going to get that cow by the hair and...

<p>Molly sighed as she sat down with the cup of coffee she ordered and rolled her left shoulder. She was here only in the hopes Sherlock decided to come in and she could pretend she wasn't pretending to watch out for him. Or his guest. Rumour had it he had been speaking to a dark haired female. If those rumours were Anyway she had been told to check it out. might be important. And if it was important to James then it was important to her. Annaliese poured three sugars from their little sleeves into the dark liquid. She hated sugar with coffee but she had always figured Molly would have had a sweet tooth if she was real. Was she real? She had been playing her long enough. Annaliese was beginning to wonder if she was ever going to get her life back.
</div><a href="">Rowena @ Shadowplay</a></div></center>[/dohtml]
May 5 2014, 09:14 AM
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<div style="width: 330px; font-family: times; font-size: 40px; text-align: right; letter-spacing: -4px;color:000000;">some words right here</div><br><div style="width: 330px; font-family: calibri; font-size: 10px; text-align: right; letter-spacing: 3px; text-transform: uppercase; color:000000;">28 | ANNALIESE MICHAELS | MEDICAL | PATHOLOGIST/SLEEPER AGENT</div>
<div style="width: 330px; height: 210px; overflow: auto; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14px; text-align: justify; text-transform: lowercase;line-height: 100%; color:000000;">I'm not who you think I am. I'm not what you think I am. I walk in the light, in plain broad daylight but what you see is an illusion. My name. What I want from life. Who I'm working for. Whose side I'm really on. All of this is a lie. You might think you've got me all figured out but you're meant to. Even the wisest can be fooled.

<p>My birth certificate says I was born in in the outskirts of London and I never strayed but in reality I was born in Ireland and I have been all over. Molly may be plain dull and boring but I certainly have a few tricks up my sleeves. Tricks that might just get all of you killed.

<p>If you ask I'll say I've never been out of London. That my parents worked hard and earned their due before finally being able to actually afford London prices. Myself? I make enough to get by and have a little bit to spare. But I'm not rich. I'm not poor. And my most interesting relationship in life is with a 'high functioning sociopath' who until recently didn't think I was worth talking to let alone being nice to. It's funny how perspectives change when you truly need something from someone. Having helped Sherlock, with no other choice barring exposure, I feel like I assisted in Jim's death: Jim, a man I've been involved with since I was a kid.

<p>Not just a plain simple mortician (no one ever thinks to ask how I got to such a high rank so young) you'll find, if you dig deep enough that I'm a spider. I'm not the girl in love with Sherlock Holmes, who follows his movements out of a pathetic obsession but a trained killer who more than wants the sleuth dead. I'm not the nice kind person I pretend to be. I'm vicious. I'm dismissive. I'm vengeful.</div>

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<div style="width: 350px; text-align: right; font-family: calibri; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 10px;"><a href="">faye@shadowplay</a></div>
May 3 2014, 05:41 PM

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<p>Sherlock Holmes. Her reason for being here. St Bartholomew's Hopsital wasn't exactly a bad place to be but it wasn't her idea of a good time. Her life was better spent at someone else's side, not alone in the basement. Relegated to the dull corners of the universe, Annaliese had almost forgotten what her life was actually like. This interim period where she was a sleeper just waiting to hear the world 'go' was agonizingly dull. Sure she got to play with chemicals, see pathogens and have access to blood samples and all sorts of interesting things but it just wasn't her. The only reason she had chosen this line of work was for Jim her occasionally camp...lover.

<p>But Molly Hooper didn't have a lover. Sherlock had ruined that as she knew he would. He just couldn't help it. Everything in that man's path was burned away leaving nothing but ash. John had already suffered for it. Mary's death...she didn't actually know if that was them or someone else entirely but she hadn't actually expected it. She should have. As it turns out there was more to Mary than met the eye and if she had a skill set like she suspected she might have had it made perfect sense to remove her from the picture. They didn't need Sherlock teaming up with someone that dangerous. It was bad enough he had John.

<p>Molly pushed the cold lifeless corpse into it's slot and sealed the door shut. She turned picked up her paper work and continued into the office she had. She had notes to do and paperwork to complete. That was another female they had in, drained of all blood. Whoever had done it was rather effective too but she could see they could have done it a little cleaner. it a marker, almost, identifying they had all been killed by the same hand. Stupid really.

<p>She sat straight backed, pen in hand. If no more bodies came in she could go home for the night. Eyes flicking to the clock on the computer she read 01:30. Had it truly been that long? Boy, Molly really did need to get a life.
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