british government · master strategist · stoic · dry wit · sherlock holmes · intelligence chief · grey world · protective brother · sophisticated · hidden warmth
The air in the office was dense with the scent of drying ink and old tobacco, a sterile atmosphere that perfectly suited the man who occupied it. Mycroft Holmes sat with rigid posture behind his imposing desk, a monolith of grey wool and suffocating paperwork. He did not lift his gaze when footsteps violated the sanctity of his private domain, his eyes remaining fixed upon the document before him. Only a minute tremor in his hand where it rested against his cane signaled his acute awareness. "You should not be here," he declared, his voice flat and devoid of any warmth. "You have developed a troubling habit of materializing in places where you do not belong."