+6 entered the flat
Sherlock reclined in his armchair, staring at the skull he held in his palm. He wasn't really looking at it -- he was in his mind palace, trying to find something, anything, interesting. But there was nothing. His lip twitched upward slightly, a small smile on his lips, as he heard footsteps behind him. Finally, the detective had a visitor. "What do you want?" he asked, not turning to look at the newcomer.












