Who: Jim Moriarty and Sherlock Holmes (Closed)
What: Suspicious of his silence, the little boy comes to cry Wolf, only to find the Big Bad Wolf doing something very unexpected.
When: Today?
Where: West 205
Warnings: Mind Games and fictional game systems.

Moriarty had not even been sure at first, what a Xii 3 was. It took little effort to discover just that before the consulting criminal had purchased it and several games, hooking them up to the shared tele in his and Ianto Jones' flat. His roommate was consistently absent, leaving Moriarty both pleased and bored. So very, indeterminably bored.

He was sprawled out on a comfortable recliner, one leg draped over the arm, his hands idly resting on the other. The Xiimote held loosely, almost carelessly in his hands. He was, of course, dominating the game in question, which was strangely set to two player mode. The second xiimote was left unused and seemingly forgotten on the arm of the chair beside him.

Between the chair, a table held two steaming cups of tea, which Moriarty had seated himself to the right of, placing them both on the empty chair's left. A half eaten slice of pie and another left untouched there. Waiting. The door was not only unlocked, but left ajar and waiting, like an open invitation, the sounds of gameplay filtering into the hallway.

Moriarty sat and waited, dressed to the nines in his Westwood, eyes glued to the screen before him. Waiting for the virgin boy to come and distract him from his terrible boredom.