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the great love of my life is a homicidal manic. no one is perfect.
( source )
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rp relationships // sherlock holmes & cecelia holmes (@consultingsister & @addictedtobeinghimself) Their mother used to call Cecelia, ‘Sherlock’s Shadow’ because wherever Sherlock went, his little sister wasn’t far behind. At first, this was incredibly annoying for Sherlock, but after a while, he found Cecelia was quite an excellent sounding board for his ideas. The child wasn’t judgmental or critical like his father and brother, she was amazed by anything and everything her brother could come up with, and this didn’t diminish with age. And then, one day, Sherlock was packed off to boarding school and didn’t come home till christmas. You can imagine the effect that has on little Cece, who always had her brother around. Father was often absent, mother was no longer at the house, Mycroft was always in his room, but Sherlock? He has always been there. So, without quite meaning to, Sherlock was the cause of Cecelia’s fear of abandonment. And every time he he disappears again, into drugs or away to New York, Celia can’t help but feel like a four year old again, watching the car race away from her; wondering if her favourite person, and big brother, will ever come home.
BEHIND BARS
Riley tugged resentfully at the collar of her new jail uniform. Yep, she was in jail, for shit she didn’t do, and she had to wear this fucking thing, and she had to shower in front of other people, and she kind of wanted to throw up all of the time. All evidence pointed to this being her life for the next, what, ten years? Fifteen? Who knew what the judge would be like.
The FBI wanted her to confess. The federal prosecutor said that it would at least make the judge and jury easier on her. The plea bargain was still on the table.
That plea bargain was what kept her up at night. It was actually what kept her up last night. It wasn’t going to matter whether or not she actually did it. She’d seen some of the evidence the FBI had already found, and none of it was good. So. Sometimes it was good to be realistic. With a plea deal, she’d only go to prison for eight years and six months, less if she behaved herself.
Eight years wasn’t too long, was it?
She’d be over thirty when she got out.
Riley frowned and looked down at the visiting room table in thought. When the door opened, she glanced at the newcomer. It was -- she knew him, didn’t she? He looked sort of familiar. Oh, wait.
“Didn’t nobody tell you that the FBI’s running my case?” she asked. “I’ve answered every imaginable question in the fucking universe, and I really don’t feel like pointlessly trying to convince someone I didn’t do it. So, really, you could save us both some time by just fucking off.”
moodboard for sherlock holmes & cecelia holmes @addictedtobeinghimself & @consultingsister
