#iigenius

“What? No mom and dad this time? Have I scared them off again?”

“HELP. I’ve been shot!”

 [Text: Sherlock Holmes] Big brother is distracted with other things. You should come say hello.

Irene at that precise moment, stood  with a group of tourists, blending in for the most part. It was an easy way to get through and around things; act like you were part of the group and it was rarely questioned. Irene’s gaze however, flicked over the familiar buildings and sights, her lips twisting into a smile. It was nice to be back. At least for the most part.

Her gaze flicked down to her phone, waiting for a response, if any. Sometimes he respond, sometimes he didn’t. She often had a good sense of when he would or wouldn’t answer her. Except for this time, where she couldn’t figure it out. So she took to walking down the streets of London, enjoying it after being gone for years. Then she decided to send one more to see if it would encourage a response.

As one would have expected, the  DETECTIVE upheld that ever dull and vulgar sense OF taste for manners OF savagery. He clung to the supposed art OF DEDUCTION like he were the desperate hands OF mankind ITSELF.  All very POETIC really, so much so  that IT failed to IRK the CONSULTING  CRIMINAL, let alone to press him under the SPOTLIGHT through the mere presence OF his INTELLIGENCE.  He knew Sherlock’s mannerisms you  see, so the response came as no  SURPRISE to him. You could almost say that he held PREDICTION to IT. “—Mwuh-that’s clever,” mocked he  through some muffled mumble, one that was low, but never absent nor vacant from that condescending IRISH twang that came HITHER whenever he sought to belittle another. “Very clever. But you seem to be forgetting one ITTY BITTY detail,” he held his forefinger and thumb an INCH apart as he SQUINTED his eyes. “Who  do you think, make the cases for you to solve? Wouldn’t be the VICTIM now would IT, oh nooo.”