
Currently accepting cases above an 8. Inquiries to be made within at 221B Baker St., London W1, or electronically via John’s blog. (@warhaunts)
London, England
Joined March 2014
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You profit from decay; I profit from watching you pretend it’s sophistication. We both have our little pleasures.
Close, as usual, but not quite there.
I do not solely exist as one melody, one line, one sharp string holding vibrato.
How I wish that were true.
Surely, it would be far less demanding. Perhaps, enjoyable, even.
We are all too alike, tortured and encouraged by the orchestra.–
Replying to @_JMoriarty
Mine? Mine is the orchestra. Strings, horns, drums, all crashing at once—every note demanding to be heard, every possibility burning itself into existence. There is no silence. There is no pause.
So, hello!
Not dead.
Forward your inquiries to @warhaunts — unless the case is PARTICULARLY captivating, then you have a maximum of 280 characters to convince me personally.
-SH
A gift and a curse. One the detective knows all too well.
Can you imagine how quiet it must be? …How empty and weightless? We pity the lacking, and yet remain ( on occasion ) microscopically jealous of their ignorance. So boring; so soothing.
Sherlock Holmes retweeted
There’s a bloody 𝑠𝑘𝑢𝑙𝑙 in our fridge. Which is most likely a real human skull —— of course I’d notice.
I expended all of my energy on 𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑘𝑠 in a feeble attempt to rid myself of the shackles of restlessness… I don’t suppose a robe would suffice?
I’ve been 𝑜𝑢𝑡 in less.
Do you see the path I 𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑑 into the carpet? It was either the kitchen, or I turn our bedroom inside out, and upside down.
I suppose, I could eat… Oh, 𝐺𝑜𝑑, am I dying?






