⠀⠀ ― ⠀❝ Damn it, it wasn’t quite fresh enough! ❞ 「 An independent portrayal of Herbert West ; The Reanimator by H. P Lovecraft. Written for the #fandomless verse. Injected by hamlet.⠀ 」 ⠀

We're so back

What I mean, sir, is this: If you are the culprit, then you must play the part more convincingly! Roll over and accept your fate! Ah ha ha ha ha hah!

Suddenly, Sherlock Holmes arrived, still looking rather battered and bruised. "Ah, Watson! I see that you are getting acquainted with our guest."

"Now now Watson, there's no need for concern." Sherlock took off his coat and hat before sitting down, wincing slightly. "There was a slight scuffle between myself and our guest here, but I assure you, she means no harm."

"No need Miss Tori, Watson usually tends to my wounds." He began glancing over Watson's notes in deep thought.

"Because I knew that if I were to leave you in the hands of the police you would've slaughtered them like lamb."

Later that same evening, after Watson patched up Holmes, he gave Yune permission to roam about the house, while he played away with his violin, which offered a pleasant soundtrack to the ambience of the street.

To be quite frank, Holmes & Watson didn't know what to do with her, and as far as Scotland Yard was concerned it was just some big bird that was in Big Ben. There was a spare bedroom in 221B, but the pair heavily debated with each other and Mrs. Hudson on the matter.

"On the contrary, my dear Watson... Based on her description of being a guardian of humanity, and guardian of this supposed 'Last City', she may be an angel for all we know... A very violent angel at that!"

And with that; Holmes, Watson & Mrs. Hudson retire to their rooms, leaving Yune to do whatever she pleased... as long as it didn't involve burning down the place like Holmes himself almost did on numerous occasions.

エドワトでいちばん好きなオフショット たぶんバスカヴィルのとき ステッキでツンツンしてる...

Every Holmesian upon hearing the phrase "Mr. Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic Hound!"

"Come in!" Sherlock announced from his sitting room.

"Not at all, you simply think aloud." He chuckled, "I'll have Mrs. Hudson bring up some coffee." Holmes looked as if he hadn't slept all night, being surrounded by papers and a syringe of morphine lying on his desk. He was smoking his pipe as usual as he meticulously studied.