It Won't Help
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- Parts 3
She chuckled.
"It seems as if you are merely a child, Menaris. Emotions define us as human."
He scoffed.
"I don't see the advantage of these... emotions."
She turned around, green eyes ablaze.
"They are advantageous. It's just that it won't help you - and me - and our particular stance in life. We don't understand the value - apparently, this is the only area where we have no control over, and is also the one that has the most control out of all of us."
Orphaned at a young age, Phylicia Ortel learnt to get by and learn the truths of life early on. Brought up by the harsh realities of the world she had lived in, she keeps her emotions under lock and threw away the key - if she even had emotions.
Turned into a sociopath - deadly and intelligent - she has turned into one of the most reputable investigators around Britain.
Having absolutely no empathy and a knack for knowing a person's entire background with a single glance, she takes on numerous cases that had demanded her presence.
Until a certain turn of events turns the hunter into the hunted.
Accompanied by a kind and experienced medic and an abnormally closed off sociopath as well, Ortez tracks down the individual who had made her beautiful, complex mind burn into nothing more than cinders - ash that can very easily be blown away. Ortez has to break through the limitations that bind her genius to the ground, and ultimately execute her grandest, most intricate plan to save Britain von sich selbst.
[Characters inspired by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's 'Sherlock Holmes']
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[Sherlock x Female OC] The thing is, there is an empty, gaping hole at the base of John's throat where his overwhelming guilt and periodic bouts of torturous grief used to be. It would be so easy to... to be angry and punch a hole through the wall, through the foam of his pillow -- drive his fist through Sherlock's heart. But he remembers; in the most tragic and inopportune of fashion, remembers how angry he had been when Sherlock had jumped, how furious he had been at his funeral, and how it hadn't stopped him from breaking down at his grave nonetheless. The thing about his anger is this: it does nothing but leave him behind in the end, a bundle of nerves and frailty in his bones and an unsteady sway to his gait. It does nothing at all, but reduce marginally the constant, suffocating oppressiveness of his days bleeding into one another with a burst of adrenaline. The thing about his anger is this: it doesn't give him back Sherlock. So he gets a new flatmate- a woman named Holland. They were great friends at school and in fear he would be lonely again after Sherlock died he started to meet up with her, and soon, she moved in with him. They're just friends, though. No one could have a bond with John like Sherlock did. Sherlock was his best friend. But then Sherlock returns, and John is more furious than ever at him. Also, Sherlock and Holland seem to bond quite well, which is something Sherlock finds too complicated to explain itself.
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