THEME BY SARAHCATHS+
Irene Adler
"To Sherlock Holmes she was always
                 'The Woman'."

Tracking Tag: thatelusivewoman
Current M!A: None

just started a new job, so I’m not going to be around until Thursday evening :) Replies and chats will be up then! Wish me luck!

notquiteasociopath asked: ✆

[Text to Sherlock Holmes] My apologies, Mr. Holmes. [Deleted]
[Text to Sherlock Holmes] It wasn’t my intent [Deleted]

[Text to Sherlock Holmes] Dinner, Sherlock? [Deleted] 

posted 1 year ago with 1 note
brilliancesquared asked: ✆✆

[SMS to H] … _ _ _ … -IA [Saved to Drafts]

[SMS to H] I’m sorry. I was wrong. -IA [Deleted]

posted 1 year ago with 1 note
Calvin Candie caught your eye.

Well you certainly are a new face.

Can I interest you in anything, Mr…?

posted 1 year ago with 1 note

fillmyaskbox:

On a scale from 1 to 10 how much do you think I understand the character I roleplay?

posted 1 year ago with 11,548 notes
+2

Hm? 

Wonderful to see you, dear. To whom — or what — do I owe the pleasure? 

posted 1 year ago with 2 notes
We’ll Always Have Paris || Irene & Sherlock

She had never been particularly bothered by flying, but the trip from Karachi to Paris was perhaps the most nerve-wracking experience she had with an airline to date. It wasn’t that the flight wasn’t enjoyable — had it not been for her circumstances, she would have taken great comfort in the few hours spent above the earth where needy clients couldn’t reach her — but the entire time she felt an unseen force breathing down the back of her neck, waiting for the proper moment to strike. It was delusional, of course — she knew she hadn’t been followed and that a certain detective wouldn’t have allowed such a thing to happen — yet her mind continued to reel around the possibility of a minor mistake leading to her ultimate, untimely demise. Such were her thoughts until the plane touched ground.

Even when safely within the city of Paris — a city she was all too familiar with and really quite in love with — she continued to look over her shoulder, checking to make sure that no hooded men or obvious spies had pursued her from the airport. Paranoia kept the elusive Ms. Adler firmly in it’s grasp until she made her way to a cheap, middle-class hotel that she was booked to stay in for four nights. Only after she had locked the doors and pulled the curtains did she feel secure in her loneliness, and only then did she let out a sigh of relief as the events of the previous two months washed over her in choppy, unbearably heavy waves. 

Irene Adler was many things but she was not equipped to deal with life in prison, especially not with a death sentence over her head. Shuffled from outpost to outpost, she had become accustomed to being awoken in the middle of the night only to be shoved into the back of a van that smelled vaguely of sweat and blood before she was transported across borders. Or so she assumed. Really, the blindfold and the handcuffs made it difficult for her to tell anything about where she was going but the stories she had heard and the synopsis she had been given by a former client gave her enough of an indication of her treatment to believe that she was being taken from country to country. Eventually she ended up in Pakistan and…

Well, such things were not meant to be dwelt upon, not when one was expecting a visitor with a packet of very important papers. For now all Irene could do was sit in one of the room’s two armchairs and wait, fighting the heaviness on her eyelids while silently hoping that the next knock at the door would come from a certain Sherlock Holmes.

posted 1 year ago with 2 notes

But this is far more intimate

But this is far more intimate

posted 1 year ago with 1,268 notes