Chapter Text
Sherlock was once again overcome with a tremendous bout of boredom. He was so bored, he seriously thought he’d die. He was out of his usual powder, he’d smoked his cigarettes into ash, and there was nothing worth his while going on.
He’d lost count of how many times he’d asked John if the police had any cases for him, and he was sure John was just about ready to sock him over the head if he’d asked once more.
Sherlock was a civilian criminal profiler and in his free time, a self-declared consulting detective. Unfortunately, work had been slow and he was left with nothing but himself, his mind, and John.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear, Sherlock thought, briefly when a knock sounded at his bedroom door and a voice spoke, “Sherlock, I’m going to be staying over at Mary’s tonight. She’s feeling under the weather and I don’t want her to be alone.”
“Under the weather, John? It can’t be bad enough that ya’d leave me here alone, is it?”. Sherlock replied, desperate to not lose his only chance at distraction from this mind-numbing boringness.
“Oh, for Heaven’s sake, Sherlock! I don’t expect you—an eternal bachelor—to understand. When you’re in a relationship, I’d like to see you leave your sick partner alone!” John said, exasperated.
Before Sherlock could get in his comeback of, “Me? An eternal bachelor? You make it sound as if it’s not a choice!” John interrupted and left no room for Sherlock to get a word in edgewise.
“Sherlock, I’m going. There’s hardly anything wrong with you other than another one of your boredom episodes. Also, I better not smell any cigarette smoke or chemical smells when I return. And for the love of God, Do NOT burn down the house, just order takeaway!”
Sherlock groaned. Did he have to say that every time he left home? How many times had Sherlock even given John anything to worry about?
Sherlock conveniently does not count any of the times they have had the police called on them or the landlord thanks to the burning smell or loud explosions that came from their apartment as any cases that would’ve caused worry.
His attention was pulled back to the situation at hand as John called out to him one last time amongst the rustling sounds of him getting dressed for the commute to Mary’s.
“How about you play a game or something on your phone, Sherlock? I’ve heard Mary briefly mention a very well-made mystery game that’s trending online. Perhaps it’ll temporarily alleviate your boredom.”
“Ya think?!” Sherlock shouted back, tone coloured with scepticism. Sherlock couldn’t imagine any mystery game would be able to catch even a smidgen of his interest.
“I sincerely hope so. I’m off now, please don’t blow up anything or starve. You know I’m on my phone if you need anything!” And with that, the sound of John opening and closing the door could be heard.
A mystery game? What gives, does he actually think I would waste my time on some video-game just because it involves mysteries?
Sherlock didn’t think he’d be eating his own thoughts so soon.
Shortly after John’s betrayal, Sherlock had groped around for his phone and found it conveniently under the edge of his bed.
Turning it on, he was momentarily blinded by its brightness in his otherwise dark room. Sherlock ignored the long message of warning that John had somehow managed to send while on his way to Mary’s, and instead he opened his social media app.
Instantly finding a myriad of posts about this trending, new, mystery game.
[ Holy shit chat, this game is insane! I don’t play visual novels but this had me hooked from the opening!!
The premise and vibes r crazy. I love the feel of late 19th century London.
Not to mention the art is insanely good and the characters are so freaking hot…
But why is the game so hard?
#visualnovel #hotcharacters #AiL #AnarchyinLondon ]
[ To everyone talking about AiL rn, how are u doing it? I love the idea of the game but it’s crazy hard!!
#AiL #AnarchyinLondon ]
[ Omg, I watched someone play it cus my ass is NOT smart enough to play myself. The story is soooo good… Actually had me crying guys
#AiL #AnarchyinLondon ]
[ HOW DO YOU BEAT THIS GAME? I KEEP DYING FFS
#SpoilerFree #PlayingBlind #AnarchyinLondon #AiL ]
As Sherlock continued to scroll, most of the posts continuously highlighted the game’s difficulty. Saying that, without a guide, it’s nearly impossible.
All of the posts about the game seemed positive. He wasn’t sure what all the “they’re so hot” comments were about but he supposed he was going to find out, wasn’t he?
Sherlock downloaded the game called Anarchy in London, and got straight into it.
And now we come to his current predicament. The game was seriously beyond his expectations.
He was conflicted at the fact that he would rather mingle with the idiot police (voluntarily and for longer than required) than tell John that he was enjoying the game. But… maybe he would. After all, the poor guy put up with a whole load of his bullshit (Sherlock is intelligent, he acknowledges his shortcomings) without anything in return apart from his magnificent presence.
He desperately tried to ignore the romance aspect of the game, thinking of it as a means to an end for 100% completion (Sherlock’s no quitter!).
The game’s prologue starts with the faceless and genderless main character receiving a troubling letter in their home in Bristol, telling them of a sinister plot that was brewing in London, and that their expertise would be appreciated as England’s only known detective.
The MC makes their way to London via railway from Temple Meads station to Paddington station. Upon reaching Paddington, they bump into a kind gentleman who they take their chances with and ask for directions to Scotland Yard in Whitehall. The kind gentleman’s face is hidden (Sherlock believes the developers were too lazy to add in any details apart from what was required), his voice as smooth as velvet (Sherlock can appreciate art when he hears it), as he tells the MC detailed directions before leaving.
It’s then revealed that these series of crimes are all targeting the aristocracy and revealing the terrible acts they’d committed under the belief that they were immune to all consequences. And so, the game’s entire premise is the MC chasing after leads, solving the crimes, trying to catch the mastermind and figure out why they’re doing what they’re doing, and falling in love on the job (quite literally).
Sherlock enjoyed the freedom the visual novel offered in terms of the choices you could choose. Some were highly logical, while others gave him a small laugh. He also appreciated how immersive it was (bar the romance) and how it felt like he was actually solving these intricate crime cases.
It wasn’t long before Sherlock—with his intellectually superior brain—had completed one of the game’s routes. It was the route where the MC ended up with their younger colleague.
The route wasn’t to his taste and he felt the route was a little lacklustre with its lore but supposed he’d learn more after finishing all of the different routes. Not to mention, he simply couldn’t fathom how this main character fell in love on the job. Were they not that into their job? How could anyone fall in love while looking at mangled bodies and sorting through macabre clues?
At the end of the route, he still hadn’t learned why the crimes were being committed, and he believed the “mastermind” that was caught wasn’t the real one at all.
Sherlock only then realised that he was hungry and stopped to eat and refresh himself. He was determined to finish the game and unravel the entire mystery.
The next day after returning home, John had noticed how unusually… clean the house was. By leaving-Sherlock-alone standards, the house was clean.
The takeaway boxes weren’t left on the dining table and were actually in the bin, his plate, cutlery and glass were all in the sink too (and not still on the table). It was still a few years too early before he’d rinse and place them into the dishwasher but it still made John proud.
There were no smells—of any kind. And no beakers of unknown substances hanging around on either the floor, window sill or the kitchen sink.
“Huh… what’s this?” John couldn’t help but marvel out loud at how unusual it all was.
Was Sherlock even still alive? Oh, he shouldn’t be thinking that. Sherlock was rubbing off on him. Begone, dastardly thoughts, begone!
John left the kitchen and living room area to make sure he didn’t need to call the police to remove a dead body from the apartment. Stopping right in front of Sherlock’s door, John stilled his breathing to try and listen to see if he could hear anything.
Much to his relief, he could hear unintelligible mumbles from beyond the door. He lifted his hand and knocked.
“Sherlock, are you okay? Why is the house so… um… clean?” The last part slipped out before he could stop himself.
John braced himself for Sherlock to slam the door open and ask what he meant by the “clean” comment and if he was looking for a fight. Instead, he got no response. “Sherlock?” He tried again tentatively before he knocked again.
After Sherlock’s lack of response, John sighed and pushed the door handle down, opening the door. What greeted him was the sight of Sherlock lying on his stomach with a pillow cushioned beneath him, immersed in his phone. It was only when he had closed the door after him that Sherlock finally turned.
“Ah, John? You were back?” It was evident from Sherlock’s genuine tone of surprise that he hadn’t heard him. What was it that had Sherlock of all people, so distracted that he hadn’t even heard him come in?
“Oh, yes, I just got home. I’m sorry for opening the door but I’d gotten no response after two knocks.” He decided he’d leave out the part where he commented on the clean state of the apartment.
“Oh, sorry. Jesus John, this game… ah- I mean- uh…” Sherlock ruffled his hair, a frustrated look appeared on his face momentarily, along with a dusting of blush. They vanished and in their place, his lips settled into a pout. “That mystery game… it’s good.”
John could physically feel his face light up. Had an idea of his seriously pleased the Sherlock Holmes?
“Ah, the- the game, you’re playing it? Seriously?” John’s tone was laced with mirth.
“I am! I am and I’m going to finish the game with a 100% completion rate! I’ll have every ending and route unlocked before you know it, John!”
Sherlock threw his hands up in exasperation but couldn’t hide the delight that sparkled in his eyes. He was genuinely enjoying the game and John couldn’t have been happier.
“Oh, I’m so happy you’ve chosen a much healthier method to cure you of your boredom! I won’t bother you then, carry on Sherlock and I’ll come back at dinner time.” John turned on his heel and walked out of Sherlock’s room with a small bounce in his step. He had to call Mary and tell her!
“Thanks John, I’d appreciate the dinner reminder!” Sherlock shouted after him, voice still tinged with enthusiasm.
Now, don’t get him wrong, John was delighted that Sherlock had found a much healthier method of staving off his boredom through gaming instead of his drugs and nicotine.
However, this did NOT mean he was happy about what he was being subjected to.
“I mean, John, seriously. How on earth can the main character be falling in love with their colleagues? Are the devs pulling my leg? Where does romance even fit into this bloody game–!” Sherlock buzzed on with his hands moving furiously around the table they sat at. The meal John had cooked was getting colder beneath his theatrics.
“It’s not that unheard of, falling in love on the job…”
“Okay, but is this a normal job John?”
“… No. I suppose it isn’t, is it”
“Exactly!”
“Yes, Sherlock… When are you ever wrong… Though, I’d greatly appreciate it if you could continue telling me after you’ve finished eating.” John cut in, gesturing a hand out at the food he’d graciously cooked for himself and Sherlock.
And so, John sat for the next hour at least, listening to Sherlock prattle on about all his gripes he had with the romance aspect in the game. Oh, and the plot holes.
Yes, John was delighted he didn’t have to sit and instead have smoke blown in his face. Truly.
It had been exactly two whole days since Sherlock had started Anarchy in London. For it being a mobile game, the game was damn long, even with Sherlock spending pretty much every waking hour at the bloody thing.
It wasn’t that he wasn’t enjoying it but it was more like he simply couldn’t stand the romance any longer. It was absolutely nonsensical! What bloody twat would be getting it on after seeing such bloody scenes?! The dick couldn’t possibly be that good.
It had Sherlock shaking his head and running his hands down his face every time a slightly more mature sexual scene appeared (as sexual as it could be for a visual novel without getting reported). He prayed to whatever higher beings were out there that John wouldn’t choose those highly inconvenient times to walk in on him. That would become something he’d never be able to live down if it happened.
Sherlock, for all his complaining, only had three routes out of six left. He’d already romanced (oh, the thoughts of even saying that word, bloody hell) the younger colleague, the childhood friend and the work superior. Who did he have left again? Oh, yes, the vigilante, the roommate, and the lawyer. Wow, what a cast! Not. All Sherlock was interested in was the beautiful mind behind all of these magnificent crimes (he’s well aware they’re a fictional character but he’s been at the game for two days straight, can you blame him for getting a little too into it?).
Sighing where he laid on his bed, Sherlock pressed NEW GAME, and continued on with his mission. Although he had breezed through the first three routes, it was getting difficult actually trying to pick the right choices to get onto the other character’s ones. I mean, is he really going to choose the option: >Try to fight using a pocket watch! When anyone with a little bit of sense in their noggin would absolutely NOT try to fight with no combat experience against a deranged killer. Also, a pocketwatch?
Man, all he has to blame is his own stubborn ass. He sure as hell isn’t going back on his word after what he’d told John though.
Sherlock soldiered on and finally managed to get onto the vigilante’s route. Using his superior intellect, he simply chose all the correct dialogue choices and wrapped up the route in no less than six hours. Call him a genius because what else is he other than a genius.
John had given up on him (rightfully so, he would’ve too) and had stopped trying to engage him. Instead, he’d opted to message Sherlock when he thought he was too immersed in Anarchy in London. Sending him thoughtful little texts like:
Sherlock, I’m making dinner now. If you don’t come out I’ll put oyster sauce in the curry.
Or
Sherlock, it’s your turn to take the rubbish out. If you don’t do it, I’ll tear the bags open and empty the contents into your glass beakers.
If John is particularly concerned (fed up) with how long he’s been in his room, he may send a more threatening text.
Sherlock, I’ll call Ms. Hudson or Mr. Holmes. I’ll tell them what you’re up to. In detail.
You can bet that Sherlock was saving his game and slamming his door open, running across the corridor to John’s room frantically.
With the passing of a full week, Sherlock was lying on the couch, earbuds in and reading the final dialogue of the final route with the lawyer.
“MC… You’re my Justice. My true North. Thank you for showing me that there’s more to life than what I thought…”
“Oh Rey… you’ve truly set my heart alight.”
“MC, I love you.”
“Oh, how I love you too!”
Sherlock made a couple of disgusted and uncomfortable faces before the game’s ending video played.
Sherlock’s face remained blank. Was that it? What about all the loose ends? This can’t be it? Were the masses hypnotised? This was a load of codswallop!
As Sherlock continued to curse about in his mind, a final pop-up appeared.
TRUE ROUTE UNLOCKED—PROCEED TO NEW STORY?
YES / NO
Sherlock’s eyes widened. True route? New story? Were they shitting him, he seriously, finally gets the real and true ending?
Sherlock pressed YES so hard it made a worrying noise that had John turning towards him on his way to the front door to check he was okay.
Sherlock’s initial reaction was confusion because he wasn’t playing as his nameless MC, instead the side-portrait in the bottom right hand corner of his screen was reminiscent of that finely dressed, kind gentleman from the prologue. Where the MC first arrived in Paddington station. However, their appearance was slightly dissimilar at the same time.
The name that appeared next to the gentleman’s side-portrait remained as ??? until another character off screen seemed to call out to who he was now playing. The voice he’d first heard—the one that was as smooth as velvet yet also carried a hint of danger—rang out clearly in his ears, so clearly, it was as if he was speaking directly next to Sherlock.
“Louis, our final player has arrived—and with their arrival, they herald the beginning of The Moriarty Plan and the end of London as the common folk and the aristocracy know it.”
As the unknown speaker finished, their sprite slowly came into view on Sherlock’s screen.
Dazzlingly bright, neat blonde hair, cunning and devastatingly mesmerising ruby red eyes, perfect golden lashes, a smirk so sharp it could replace a blade and a coffee brown suit that accentuated the man in all the right places.
Now Sherlock—a man of pure logic and science—under normal circumstances, would never describe a fictional, 2D character with such language. Key sentence: under normal circumstances. These were damn abnormal ones because Sherlock was simply gobsmacked. Who gave this creature the right to be so fine? So alluring and pleasing?
The man he was playing, Louis, responded with near-reverence at the blonde man’s words. “Yes, Brother William. Everything will go as we—The Moriarty Brothers—desire.”
“Yes. Nothing will go astray from my calculations, for I am William James Moriarty—England’s—no, the world’s first and only Crime Consultant.”
At last, Sherlock had learned the name of the mysterious blonde gentleman.
And, the name of his new obsession.