sʜᴇʀʟᴏᴄᴋ ʜᴏʟᴍᴇs

fandomless & independent

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This blog is now archived.       Sherlock has been moved to a sideblog to apcgee, where she exists under the same url. Thank you for sticking with me, everyone!

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tostarsabove.

He smirks and winks conspiratorially. “Well I obviously can’t answer THAT without getting into trouble, now can I? Come now, Sherl. Use a little tact.” A few clicks of his tongue voices his sarcastic disappointment, his wide grin negating all of it.

       “I have been repeatedly accused of being allergic to tact.” A perfect deadpan, the humor beneath not even showing in her eyes. He’d know it was there; they knew each other well enough for that. After all, he’d made that accusation himself before.  “At the very least, I find myself violently opposed to the trait.”

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tostarsabove.

“–That’s not up to you.” Yes, she can decide whether or not to explain. But that doesn’t mean she gets to determine whether unraveling her is something he needs or not. That’s his choice to make. Not hers. “And no. Not really. –Also ice violet is the best descriptor.” The last line might have come across as teasing if he wasn’t already pouting.

       He was already pouting, so it came off as petulant. It took effort on her part, and concious thought, to keep from mocking him again for such particularly (a completely hypocritical action, to be sure, but Sherlock only objected to hypocrisy in others or when being actively accused of it). Even still, she smirked as she said,          “Ice violet then. They’ll never manage to box that colour, truely.”

[cliffthecunning]

“In a way that you’d certainly appreciate, I’m sure.” Cliff tossed a grin over the the woman. “I take care of things for him. Get my hands quite dirty for him. My other responsibilities are much more… boring. I’m not quite sure you’d enjoy hearing about them.

What about you? I’d certainly love to hear about what the Holmes sister does in her time.”

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There were a thousand and one ways she could have twisted any and all of that into something filthy, but the idea of admitting to herself of sinking to his level like that repulsed her. It was one thing to do it on her own, but to share the low gutter with another? Not for her. 

“I am the consulting detective. I work with private clients as well as Scotland Yard.”

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bbcmycroft.

     Seeing his sister so enthralled, so captured by his own crimes ( without having any idea it was him ) only urged him to continue, to leave more clues, more traces that would eventually lead back to him. He had never been this excited about anything that he could remember. He couldn’t help but wonder just how things would fall when it came to her realization that it was him. 

     “You think I would be unable to?” He hadn’t looked at any of the case files, but knew that there was not enough there for much of anything. It was surprising that Sherlock connected these two as quickly as she did, even if it was longer than usual. “Congratulations on connecting them, then.”

       Beaming, she settled herself in a chair across from him, basking in the smug sense of superiority for once. “Less unable than unwilling. Far too much legwork and running around the city for you. You might break a sweat, brother, and that simple wouldn’t do.”  Perhaps her gloating success was making her teasing a touch more sharp and pointed, but it wasn’t often that she was allowed this chance to feel as if she’d bested him. 

 Sherl would wring the opportunity for everything it was worth. 

“He’s a truly twisted one, this case, Mycroft.” She was leaning forward again, voice slightly hushed. “Attrocious things he’s done.” Yet she sounded giddy about it. “Of course, I know that to continue the trail, someone else must die,” a somber pause and a slight frown, “but as that is inevitable while he is free, I shall look forward to further sparing with him.” Though he likely didn’t even fathom that he’d caught the attention of the detective. 

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holmescompanions.

     She had a point - he couldn’t just sit there and cry about it. They needed to figure out why he was losing his bee population. “I’ll grab the other suit. Don’t start without me!”

          Sherl waited for him to come back, looking out over the garden, trying to pull the puzzle pieces together already, seeing where missing parts lay. “How long have you noticed the deaths have been going on?”

[lostintheseass]

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        when all your fav people are coming back <3

[kcnsyltant-deactivated20161107]

   ❛ he is a genius, a philosopher, an ABSTRACT THINKER. he has a b r a i n of the FIRST ORDER. ❜

[addictedtobeinghimself]

            they’re BACK

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       Sherlock, we have to get to the bunker NOW. 

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            feeling so attacked rn.

[fakedpersona]

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fakedpersona:

                    THAN MY 

                                        MOTHERFUCKIN’ 

                                                                           CLIQUE. 

                                      ( @hasflair && @viitium && fakedpersona )

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fakedpersona replied 

(yyyyeessssss exceellent)

viitium replied 

l et us take care of sherl B)))

hasflair replied

my favourite victim is back B))

For the record, Sherlock is whimpering under this triple assault. 

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         the threat of the moriarmy’s return has brought me back. 

    really, though, I’m trying to come back. I’ve unfollowed a number of people, I might make the shift to focusing more on developing Sherlock’s story independently, completely unattached to any other interpretation, figure out how things like John and Moriarty and Irene all happened in her core main verse so I really have something to go off of in other verses. I’ve mostly been flying by the seat of my pants for a lot of those things. Even if the odds are that I’ll never play them out here, I’d like to know what those things were like for her. Part as a character understanding thing, part as... I really just want to explore that further with her. 

   I haven’t looked into drafts and things I owe yet. I’ll be trying to honor those old things and message people about dropping things if I’m really not feeling them. 

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ghoulxaire.

     “Of course,” Grantaire repeats with an amused huff. He stuffs his hands        into his back pockets and looks around. 

     “Dunno. What kind of disease is there that we could pawn off as kids of        Apollo?” They had the ability to heal themselves, invoke their father with        hymns if they needed healing done. That might be enough to get the whole        death bed worry erased, but what would still be threat enough to get them         a few days relief? 

     “Ugh. What if we just riot and lock the doors, tell everyone to fuck off?        Sounds easier if you ask me.”

“Sounds like a good way to get Aries cabin to take it as a challenge, and then we’ll have battering rams and artillery and get absolutely no peace and quiet.” Brute force was the PERFECT way to trip that lot off. And fuck help them if the Athenas go in on it too. There was little more the combined pair liked more than a battle plan, but a siege plan would suit them just fine in a pinch. 

“. . . if we were desperate and ballsy, we could call an Oracle session. Say there’s something we need to pool strength to see, and need peace and quiet for, might take a few days.” Sure, it might piss somebody off to call a fake session like that, but there was no way this wasn’t going to piss someone off. “That would get us a while left alone.”

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bbcmycroft;

     “Are you working on anything?” Perhaps distracting himself with Sherlock, by getting her mind off the inability to help him, would make them both feel a bit better. And if not, at least he tried.

        “Only course work. Entirely dull things.” Tedious at best, irritating at worst. It was all theoretical, and she abhored such work. Give her something real and tangible, but to postualte was nails at a chalk board. 

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       “No, you’re both going about this wrong. The key to Monopoly are the railroads.”