Hades Lord of the Dead's December Calendar Challenge of Awesomeness 2014-2015 - 6th of December
[Prompt from MadamzelleGiry]Prompt for the 6th of December From Madam'zelleGiry - "I don't know what London's coming to -the higher the buildings the lower the morals." ―Noël Coward
I am almost knocked completely off of my feet by one of two swaying, cackling women as they shove past Holmes and I, having staggered from a thoroughly disreputable nearby public house. Having given my shoulder a glancing blow, she then shouts a vulgar stream of obscenities and spits in my general direction even as Holmes hastily pulls me out of harm's way.
"Beastly hag," says he once we are safely out of earshot. "The filthy, drunken wretch of a washer woman! How dare she speak to you in such a fashion! Had she been a man, I would have flailed the hide from her! I am sure I know not what London is coming to!" His eyes soften and he slowly relaxes, forcing his breathing to slow. He turns to scrutinise me. "You are not hurt are you Watson? I saw that she have your poor shoulder quite a blow."
I assure him that only my pride has been hurt as we continue on our way.
We have not gone far when we see a group of men that are shamelessly eating fish and chips and drinking bottled beer in the street. The group begin to roar with laughter when one of the younger fellows belonging to it suddenly bends to the side to vomit onto the flagstone pavement.
"Truly, the moral standards of our fair city are most certainly slipping," sniffs Holmes. "I have a mind to retire. I recall the days when only the lowest of the low would think to eat in the street like a stray cat. And as for being drunken and disorderly... And women entering a public house... What next Watson? Argh!"
The shocked and outraged sound is uttered as we both stop and stare in spite of ourselves. There in front of us, and not making any effort to conceal what he is doing, is a rather smartly-dressed young man relieving himself into the gutter.
"What?" he demands of us as if what he is doing is perfectly respectable behaviour.
"Come Watson," my friend urges me, shaking the arm that his is linked through as he hastily begins to walk on.
"This is the last time - the very last - that I shall insist upon walking home after an evening out of any kind," Holmes informs me as his shaking hands unlock our door. "The city is sickening Watson and it makes me positively ill in turn! I have met criminals that would not behave with such poor morals as those that we have seen tonight."
I attempt to comfort the fellow as I pour us each a brandy. I am myself shocked by all that I have seenin the street tonight, but the reaction of my companion shocks me still more. With all that he has seen, I had expected him to take such things in his stride. However, perhaps even his sensibilities are not without their limits.
The fellow takes his glass from me and downs a good measure of it. "I shall retire," says he with finality. "Even I cannot go on forever and I have seen all the evidence this night that the world has changed in ways that I no longer can or wish to. The higher the buildings, it seems to me, the lower the morality of those within the walls."
"But what would you do?" What would I do? I have grown accustomed to Holmes and his cases. Surely he could not retire?
The fellow shrugs. "Find something else, I suppose."
I am almost knocked completely off of my feet by one of two swaying, cackling women as they shove past Holmes and I, having staggered from a thoroughly disreputable nearby public house. Having given my shoulder a glancing blow, she then shouts a vulgar stream of obscenities and spits in my general direction even as Holmes hastily pulls me out of harm's way.
"Beastly hag," says he once we are safely out of earshot. "The filthy, drunken wretch of a washer woman! How dare she speak to you in such a fashion! Had she been a man, I would have flailed the hide from her! I am sure I know not what London is coming to!" His eyes soften and he slowly relaxes, forcing his breathing to slow. He turns to scrutinise me. "You are not hurt are you Watson? I saw that she have your poor shoulder quite a blow."
I assure him that only my pride has been hurt as we continue on our way.
We have not gone far when we see a group of men that are shamelessly eating fish and chips and drinking bottled beer in the street. The group begin to roar with laughter when one of the younger fellows belonging to it suddenly bends to the side to vomit onto the flagstone pavement.
"Truly, the moral standards of our fair city are most certainly slipping," sniffs Holmes. "I have a mind to retire. I recall the days when only the lowest of the low would think to eat in the street like a stray cat. And as for being drunken and disorderly... And women entering a public house... What next Watson? Argh!"
The shocked and outraged sound is uttered as we both stop and stare in spite of ourselves. There in front of us, and not making any effort to conceal what he is doing, is a rather smartly-dressed young man relieving himself into the gutter.
"What?" he demands of us as if what he is doing is perfectly respectable behaviour.
"Come Watson," my friend urges me, shaking the arm that his is linked through as he hastily begins to walk on.
"This is the last time - the very last - that I shall insist upon walking home after an evening out of any kind," Holmes informs me as his shaking hands unlock our door. "The city is sickening Watson and it makes me positively ill in turn! I have met criminals that would not behave with such poor morals as those that we have seen tonight."
I attempt to comfort the fellow as I pour us each a brandy. I am myself shocked by all that I have seenin the street tonight, but the reaction of my companion shocks me still more. With all that he has seen, I had expected him to take such things in his stride. However, perhaps even his sensibilities are not without their limits.
The fellow takes his glass from me and downs a good measure of it. "I shall retire," says he with finality. "Even I cannot go on forever and I have seen all the evidence this night that the world has changed in ways that I no longer can or wish to. The higher the buildings, it seems to me, the lower the morality of those within the walls."
"But what would you do?" What would I do? I have grown accustomed to Holmes and his cases. Surely he could not retire?
The fellow shrugs. "Find something else, I suppose."