ChaosIsColorful

Sometimes when John closes his eyes really tightly, he can see his obsideion curls atop his China doll face, with his perfectly pale pout and icy blue eyes that make it seem he's tearing your soul apart. Sometimes when John is silent for long enough, he can still hear his deductions rolling off his tongue, making observations forgotten by the naked eye. Deductions that are pointless today, right now. Sometimes when John ran fast enough, he could still see his hazy blue scarf whipping about like a flag, and his black trench coat flailing about not too far behind, revealing long legs shrouded in tailored trousers. Sometimes when John misses

I sneered at the screen, quickly pocketing the device. Before I left my post, I looked around at the heart of London, taking in the sights, scenes, and people. To remember what I was saving. Mother pushing baby carriages, men yelling at cell phones, taxis speeding by. With that, I headed toward the hospital. Walking down the street proved a challenge. It wasn't "plan your escape so you can end all this shit." It was more "don't fall down on your face, and down look too threatening. Look up, and watch out for red lasers." It proved to be an exhausting task, making sure you were fast enough to make it, but slow enough not to cause panic. Deter

"A mastermind..." muttered Sherlock. "Criminal for hire." It seemed as though Jim Moriarty wanted to be arrested this morning, dreamed of being hauled away in a cop car, shackles around his pale wrists. Only one with intentions of prison would break into the crown jewels, knowing perfectly well the place had cameras galore. But not before spray painting one of his famous Jim Moriarty one liners on the glass, before he busted it with a fire extinguisher: "GET SHERLOCK," emphasis on the smiley face "O". Mycroft asked me to watch out for Sherlock. To keep the great Sherlock Holmes away from danger. To keep the world's only consulting detectiv