jin·go·is·tic
adjective
characterized by extreme patriotism, especially in the form of aggressive or warlike foreign policy.
｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆
𝗜𝗡 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗛 𝗔 𝗦𝗜𝗠𝗣𝗟𝗘 𝗡𝗘𝗪𝗦𝗕𝗢𝗬 𝗝𝗢𝗜𝗡𝗦 𝗔
𝗣�...
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"Tell me [Name], do you believe in the Holy Fire? It's said to not burn those who have lighten it and I'm awfully curious what requirements there are in order to not be burned. A Holy Fire could spread throughout the streets of London and how many do you think will be burned?"
[Father's Name] spoke as he took his child out to have a pleasant mid morning stroll around said streets of London. It would be one of the last times these mundane walks would ever happen since the family would be moving to the countryside. The man's question made the young [Hair Color] hair contemplate a bit before they just kept quiet about their answer. However, that was the very same question that got [Father's Name] [Last Name] killed. It was even in said 'Holy Fire' that had burned him till his bones were as dark as charcoal and the night sky. [Mother's Name] wasn't meant to die despite the fact she died with her husband.
The fire had warmed the freezing night but it burned their souls. Flashes of [Eye Color] eyes haunted them as the last life in those very eyes were sucked out and burned like paper. At the crack of dawn that very next day, the Holy Fire burned no longer.
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[Name] woke up, gasping and heaving for breath as they quickly scanned the area around them. It was the guest room in the Moriarty House which was usually kept for when either Moran had too much to drink or when Fred needed a quick change. In this sense it was housing a sleeping [Hair Color] haired during their state of unconsciousness. A million questions raced through their head as they tried to piece together the fragments they remember vaguely. The calm chirping of the birds fell deafen on the wondering person as they started to climb out of the pristine bed.
As [Name] peaked their head out the door and into the hallway, they failed to see any signs of life. They've been at the manor for many months yet it still never disappointed when looking like a maze. The further they got, they began to hear the voices of Albert and Moran. The door to the living room was slightly open and a [Eye Color] eye peaked inside the room. There [Name] saw the messy black haired man sitting with the brown haired one. From what they could see, Moran was holding a profile of a deceased man.
"I'm glad you catch on fast Moran. You served in the Afghan War and are familiar with the Indian territories. What's more to add to these facts is that the public believes you were killed in action thus if you were to die, Britain would be able to deny any connections to you. One more thing, William says you're fit for this job,"
The brown haired spoke before his eyes land on [Eye Color] ones. They weren't all that hard to spot since they contrasted with their surroundings and it was still bright outside. A small smile made its way to Albert's face as he turns back to the colonel.
"It seems that the ears for the public has woken up already,"
With that, Moran turns to look behind him and see [Name] still dressed in their night clothes and have of their face peeking behind the door. They looked so tired even though they probably just woken up a few minutes ago. The colonel smirks before waving his hand, inviting the newsboy to join them in the room.
"Hey kid, how're ya? It's been quite a while since you passed out,"
The [Hair Color] haired remained silent since they were busy looking at a figure they failed to notice before. A woman with short dark hair that fell above her shoulders. She had freckles and glasses to decorate her secret beauty and [Name] just stared.
"Ah, I've failed to mention to you about the others whom work with William. This is Ms. Moneypenny and she will join Moran on his current mission,"
The colonel was to say annoyed with the fact that he wouldn't do this mission by himself. He had no problems with working with others but sometimes he couldn't stand certain characters. Especially ones as 'gloomy' as Moneypenny (in his words). The dark haired woman looked at [Name] before reaching out her hand for them to shake. Hesitantly, they shook it and spoke a few words themself.
"I assume you know where your loyalties lie, if not then not everyone in the world would have a secret people didn't know about,"
She remained unfazed by the threat so she was officially deemed an ally. You see, the ones who work with Mr. Moriarty are the ones with nothing to lose and that's how it should always stay. Turning back to Albert and Moran, they bowed, wishing all three of the people in the room the best of luck.
"What do you mean best of luck? You will be accompanying them Mx. [Last Name],"
They felt like pulling their hair out at that moment and maybe stealing one of Moran's guns to go shoot themself. 'I just woke up and this is how I get treated, what a wonderful world,' they thought as they flopped down on one of the sofas. A few more hours or even days of sleep wouldn't hurt anyone.
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It was only until a few minutes afterwards that Moran started shaking [Name] to wake up.
"We're leaving so stop slacking already. You've had a whole day to do that,"
Stealing Moran's gun to not only to get eternal rest but to also annoy him didn't seem like a bad idea now.
