A/N: Hello there! Underamyth3 here once again, this time trying my hand at a love of mine: Sherlock Holmes! I hope I don't shame the name of the most famous detective of literary history. I am trying to better my writing and story-telling skills so that the reader enjoys the adventure I plan to create. Before you ask, yes most of my inspiration stems from Guy Richie's Sherlock Holmes, with Robert Downey Jr. as Holmes and Jude Law as Watson. I love the whole atmosphere that Richie created and I feel as though he brought even more fame and adoration to the entire story. I hope I don't risk the trust of many die-hard Sherlock fans with my inspiration and my writing style. Is that not the purpose of fan fiction? To use a story, incorporate and interpret what you wish, all the while remaining faithful to the basic line? That is all I'm doing, hopefully you will enjoy reading it as I have enjoyed writing first obvious change that I will make to the gorgeous Downey Jr. is that instead of brown eyes they will be grey, as it is in the second change is that…well…Irene will live! *le gasp* I know, I know, but she is a needed character for this story!Any other changes I will note in the upcoming chapters as I go along. Below I am going to attempt to write a fuller summary that is somewhat understandable, and then I shall briefly describe my OCs and the canon characters I plan to include. Remember to R&R. If you don't have anything nice/helpful/constructive to say, please do not bother to review. Thank you ahead of time to those of you that will read and review! I LOVE YOU ALL! Summary: Miriam Gosling has known nothing but pain and negligence her entire life. The only thing tying her to a family is a gold, heart-shaped locket with pictures of a handsome man and a beautiful woman inside; parents she assumed to be dead or who had purposefully abandoned her. Leaving the abusive orphanage with two friends, Hadassah and Amos, when she was a mere ten years of age, she began life on the streets, using her remarkable talent for observing the most minute of details and her great intelligence to survive the cruel world that was and still is, merry ole London. Now at the ripe age of eighteen, she is the leader of the Outlaw Coterie, a band of the most sophisticated thieves Scotland Yard has ever seen and has repeatedly bested the great Sherlock Holmes; a man she has never seen yet vehemently detests. This all changes when she makes a deal with the devil, Moriarty, and is trapped in a dark world, fighting against all she lived for with those who she had been against her entire life. Flung into a world chock full of adventure, betrayal, death and a tinge of family love, what she is about to see, experience, and take part in will change her life forever. OCs and Included Main Characters:Miriam Gosling: A grey-eyed beauty that leads the Outlaw Coterie, a band of advanced criminals to rule the streets of London against Scotland Yard.
Hadassah Barnabas-Abram: A smart-talking tomboy, best friend of Miriam, and an exceptionally skilled street fighter.
Amos Coy: A scrawny teenager with an eye for shiny things and a knack for getting into Duman: A blonde, posh runaway of Turk and German parentage who proves to be a vital asset with her ultra-feminine charm and classical training.
Gregory McKenna: An agile and quick-footed Irish rebel who came to London to escape the poverty and anguish of home.
Vanya Stanislov: A severely scarred fiery-headed Russian with no past and a completely blind left eye.
Sherlock Holmes: A famed detective of 221b Baker Street known for his sleuthing wit and attention to every fine detail.
Doctor John Watson: A doctor who spent time in the Royal Army before teaming up with Detective Holmes to solve the most puzzling cases; the right-hand man and best friend of Sherlock.
Mycroft Holmes: The older brother of Sherlock by seven years. Rumored to have intelligence and deducing skills that even outshine his little brother, yet lacks neither the drive nor the desired discipline to act upon things he knows to be fact. An indispensable member of British government.
Irene Adler: An American criminal known to be one of the only ones to best Sherlock Holmes and the only woman to have greatly intrigued him.
Professor James Moriarty: The arch-enemy of Sherlock Holmes. A highly intelligent man and the head of all the crime rings in London. (There may be more included canon characters; I haven't decided.) Rating: I don't want to risk anything, so it shall be T.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything having to do with Sherlock Holmes; I'm just twisting and playing around with it to suit my needs. ^.^ Nothing here is for profitable gain or anything related to such.
Miriam inhaled deeply and gazed down at the city below her. If she had not grown up in the god-forsaken place, she could've sworn it was a beautiful and peaceful dwelling for the Victorian age. The coat of snow upon the usually filthy cobbled streets of London and the soft gusts of winter's icy breath gave the city a look of heavenly solace, shaming the paintings of artists trying to capture the moment with one dimensional colors and a blank canvas. Alas, as she had learned time and time again, looks can be deceiving. In reality, merry ole London had proved to be nothing but a cold, cruel teacher; punishing the weak for their guiltless transgressions and praising the high and mighty with more and more power and strength. Yes, she knew it took someone just as nasty and brutal to fight back against the invisible force of London; or group of someones; people who were not afraid to play the game with a cheating piece in the boot.
"Everyone's in place, Miri." She turned her head to the voice. It was Hadassah, her best mate and right-hand man; a girl with two long, ebony braids past her shoulders and a perfect model of men's fashion. She had climbed up the siding of the rickety slum to the roof where Miriam sat presently, showing no signs that the task had been difficult, and took off her bowler's hat long enough to shove her hair inside. She gritted her teeth and plopped down next to Miriam. "Sure is bitter tonight, ain't it?" Miriam couldn't agree more.
"Almost feels like you can't move at times."
Hadassah shrugged. "No different than winters before. I just count our blessings it ain't raining. London weather has a funny sense of humor when it comes to rain."
She looked down. "Streets look clear. Amos reported the constables are patrolling the south area presently, he said it don't look as if they're in a rush, but we need to get this job over with before they come."
"I know. Liesel say what we're in for?"
"Little Miss Blondie says the jewelry's worth thousands by the looks of it."
"Well then, what are we waiting for? Signal the others."
Miriam pulled her scarf of her nose and shoved her hair into her hat. This was something she had planned for about a week now; the jeweler's shop had some of the most expensive pieces in London. All the high up ventured here to buy the engagement ring for a love or the tear-shaped earrings for a dinner at a respectable price. Mortimer Grimly was the shopkeeper's name, according to Liesel; an older man with salt and pepper hair cut just below his ears and spectacles rested on the edge of his long nose. Miriam felt a little guilty for stealing from a hard-working businessman, but she was in a business as well. Money was money; trivial emotions such as sympathy for the fool who could very well afford better locks than the present was not given. He should've known better. Crime doesn't stop for the naive. Hadassah pulled out a container of matches and struck one quickly, holding it up for a moment, then blew it out. A few moments later, a faint flicker of light was seen in the alley way across the road, then another to the left, one down the right, and one, surprisingly, right below the building they stood on. Must be Amos, thought Miriam. Miriam fiddled with her locket and stood up. As always before she conducted a job, she opened the locket, searching for an answer in the pictures that she could have missed the past millions of times she looked before. A handsome man in fine gentleman's dress with piercing grey eyes, eyes she herself had, and a beautiful woman with flowing dark hair and a regal expression on her pale face were inside. She had automatically assumed they were her parents; she looked just like them, according to her friends who had seen the pictures. She didn't know if they were dead from a tragic accident or had purposefully left her at a ghastly orphanage because she was such a bother and hindrance, or maybe she was taken away from them for some unknown reason. She sighed and snapped the locket shut.
"Don't forget to keep the used match, Haddie; they like to use it as evidence." She turned on her heel and climbed down the siding, jumping onto the street with ease. The shock on her legs had quickly worn off after she performed the act again and again in previous years, and she was quite fit from dodging arrest and fighting against drunken scum in the streets. She sauntered out into the street, meeting the four others that she was in band with. Liesel, their spy, greeted her first, her light blonde hair hanging in her face and a black scarf around her nose.
"Fine night, is it not?" she said in a slight German accent. Amos turned around and smiled boyishly at Miriam.
"Ello, Miri. You're looking good as always." Hadassah ran up and smacked him in the shoulder. Greg and Vanya stood silently; two tall and intimidating persons in the light of the gas lamp. It was clear that they were ready to complete what they set out to do and get it over with.
Miriam glanced around the road one more time before resituating her scarf. "We all know what to do. I open the door, we go in, fill the bags, wipe it down, and check to see if anything is out of order, then we leave. I'll even do the old man the courtesy of locking the door on the way out." She smiled slightly at her last statement. "Ladies and gents, let's go."
With a muffled whoop from she assumed to be Hadassah, she made her way past the others and bent down at the door. After studying the lock for a few seconds, she pulled her tool kit out and took a matching key and another instrument out. She placed the key inside slowly and put the second inside next to it. She bit her lip in concentration. Click. Success. She slowly turned the knob and pushed the door open. She stood up and looked inside, careful to spot out anything that could be a trap, both obvious and hidden. All she saw was the many displays of jewelry in glass containers and the floor had been previously mopped; she guessed about 9 o'clock in the evening. There…there it was. The drawer. She walked forward and pulled it open. It was filled to the brim with papers; transcripts and receipts. But she was no fool. She dug and found a metal key, the key to the displays. Mortimer was such a blasted fool. She smiled widely and immediately they set to work. She did the honor of opening all the locks, five in all, and while the others filled their bags with jewelry from the main display, she looked towards the back. She stepped, each foot falling flatly against the wooden floor, behind the counter and look down below. Nothing. She turned around and headed further back, towards the shelves and shelves of boxes. She took one down. A box filled with papers. Another box. Papers. Another. More papers. Another and another and another. They must be here somewhere! She refused to get impatient too easily, but this was ridiculous. She went farther down the tight way…creak. She stepped back. A cold chill ran through her spine. There was not supposed to be anyone back here, unless… She stepped forward once again. Creak.
She looked down and drew a breath in. She pulled out her knife from her pocket and shoved the blade under the wood. With a snap, the floor panel released. A grey box, much bigger than the rest, was deep in the hole. She picked in up slowly, and her ears were met with the tinkling of jewels and coins. Miriam couldn't resist the girlish giggle that erupted from her chest as she quite easily busted the lock and looked inside. There is a God, and he loves us, she thought with a smirk. She opened her silk bag and let the beautiful contents flow down with a rush. The job was done; this would provide so much money for her and her friends. Sighing contently, she placed the box carefully back into the hole and replaced the wood panel back over it.
As she walked back to the front, she was met with the sight of everyone cleaning up and wiping down the store. She could not help but feel a sense of pride. She had taught all of them from early on to always leave the scene without a trace. She knew it would provide quite a headache for the investigators and, from word on the street, it did just that. All over London, police were setting up signs for warning against a group of thieves dubbed the Outlaw Coterie. Again and again they had outsmarted Scotland Yard and evaded arrest when there was a slip up. They were dreadfully notorious yet highly respected, Miriam noted. How could they not? They had bested the great Sherlock Holmes in recent acts, something that made Miriam smile with guilty pleasure.
"Are we all ready?" She asked finally. Hadassah nodded. "Cleaned the store out, Miri. Good job, if I do say so meself." Miriam made the rounds to each display and snapped the locks shut. Vanya stood closest beside her, her milky left eye glowing ominously, frowning deeply.
Miriam looked up and patted her on the shoulder. "Don't look so worried, Vanya. We're eating big tomorrow."
Vanya grimaced and Miriam took it as a smile. "Good enough. Let's leave then."
Hadassah could not help but smile at her and give her thumbs up. Miriam laughed slightly and shooed her off. As the group headed out the door and down the neighboring alley way, Miriam turned around and scanned the room one last time. If it hadn't been for the empty displays, one could have sworn not a soul had been there. That was the thorough job that many criminals could not accomplish; leaving a space as pristine and perfect as it had been before. She sighed and did a final wipe on the knob.
"Coming, Miriam?" rang Liesel's singsong voice.
"Yeah." With a final glance she turned the lock,Click. Shut the door, and disappeared into the icy winter's night; a phantom in the darkened streets of that dear city, London.