Sherlock Holmes was thoroughly enjoying his time as of late, since he was declared dead. It didn't bother him much; he would reveal himself to be alive in due time, which would only boost his ego as everyone marveled at how he could have survived. It was no easy task to swim in the freezing water he had plunged into (or warming back up after exiting said waters), but thankfully he had swiped the breathing apparatus his brother had so selfishly told him not to use.
For now, he was "practicing" his masterful disguising techniques and living as multiple personalities in the wintery city. Some days he would present himself as dapper and snobbish as a spoiled first-class citizen (the latter quality being much too easy for him), and pass as a respectable gentleman, complete with an artificial and well-groomed moustache. Other days he would dress in rags and heavy, dirty looking coats that would earn sneers and scoffs as he performed his beggar charade. He thought once or twice about attempting to imitate the fairer gender, but ultimately decided against it as he recalled his recent train escapade.
Eventually though, Holmes began to grow bored with just playing dress-up to pass his days. He read early one morning in a discarded newspaper that his funeral ceremony was to be held the next day. He knew he shouldn't be anywhere near it, but his ego got the better of him and desired to know how people felt about his "absence" from the world. He was currently hanging about on the corner of Melcombe and Baker St wearing his extremely convincing beggar costume, just to see if he could spot Watson or Mary. As he loitered on the street corner, he spotted a young woman descending from the top of a building. He quirked his eyebrows in mild-fascination and watched her closely as she walked nonchalantly on the sidewalk. He recognized that kind of behavior immediately and could tell that she was pick-pocketing. He smirked mischievously and decided to try and steal the money she had already stolen. It would be quite an amusing game for him to pass the time.
Walking quickly, he made his way straight for the supposedly unsuspecting woman, pulling his hat lower to cover his face and wrapped his large cloak tighter around himself. He bumped roughly into her and performed his thievery with what he believed was perfect execution. As he continued to walk away, however, he failed to notice the woman discreetly take back what she had earned in an impressive manner. He rounded the corner and into a secluded alleyway to see how much she had managed to steal before he came along. But to his great surprise, the money he thought he had lifted from her person was not securely within his pocket. Blinking rapidly he puzzled as to how he, Sherlock Holmes, had been out-pick-pocketed, and by a woman, no less! He furrowed his brows in frustration and turned to go back and follow his new fascination.
Feeling quite smug, Madelyn strolled confidently into the bakery and purchased a delicious, fresh loaf of bread and with the leftover money, bought herself a sweet treat. She ate it as quickly as she could while still savoring the flavors, and tucking the loaf of bread into the messenger bag at her hip, trotted into the alley behind the bakery to ascend a neighboring building by use of a fire escape. She then regained her position and continued her trek to the Westminster Abbey.
Holmes caught sight of her exiting a bakery, munching on a treat she bought with her pilfered money. He glared lightly at her and followed her slowly. After she tucked a loaf of bread into her bag, she suddenly broke into a trot and quickly slipped into an alleyway out of his sight. Running quickly to catch up, he rounded the corner in time to see her finish climbing a fire escape and stroll away on the rooftops. Holmes grinned, he knew he could follow her easily up on the roof, but because people seldom were on the roofs of the neighborhood, save for chimney sweepers of course, he would be discovered quite quickly. So, traveling on foot at ground level would present a challenge for him. He liked challenges.
"This has turned out to be a rather exciting day." Holmes mused in his head.
Madelyn was briskly walking on the snowy rooftop as she glanced back over her shoulder. She had a nagging feeling that someone was trailing her. She picked up her pace and sprinted across the roof and leapt to the next one. Continuing directly south from the bakery, she could spot the tall steeple of the Westminster Abbey. Madelyn smiled; traveling would be a bit easier with a landmark to keep her on track.
Madelyn was making pretty good time, because by the time the sun began to set (behind the mask of clouds that had formed and were currently dumping snow), she was less than ten blocks away from the abbey. She was thoroughly exhausted and very hungry at the near end of her journey and wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep, but she had yet to construct her snow shelter. Grudgingly, she began digging and packing snow up in a cave shape against a chimney.
About forty minutes later, Madelyn had completed her shelter much to her delight. She dragged herself into the shelter, and pulled the loaf of bread from her shoulder bag. Breaking off about a quarter of the loaf, she munched on it greedily, shivering slightly as she peered out at the darkness around her shelter. She drifted off into a dreamless and cold sleep as the wind began to stir (much to her dislike).
Holmes tailed the girl for quite a while, and he marveled at her stamina for traveling on the rooftops. However, when the sky began to darken and snow began to fall, tracking her became much more difficult. He sighed.
"I suppose I could climb to the rooftops now." He pondered in his head.
Tossing his hat aside, he climbed onto a trashcan to reach a fire escape ladder. After reaching the top, he scanned the area and contemplated on the direction she could have been heading. After considering the direction he had been heading for the last few hours and the landmark that lay in plain sight further in his path, he theorized that she was heading towards Westminster Abbey.
Treading lightly, he analyzed the snow around him and spotted a set of footprints that he knew belonged to the girl. He smirked and began to follow the footprints, but he had to move quickly as snow was falling heavily and was covering her tracks. After a few more blocks, her tracks had all but disappeared in the fresh layer of snow. Holmes could see they continued to the next building, but unfortunately the trail seemed to end there. A glacial breeze swept across the city that penetrated straight through even Holmes' multiple layers of clothes. He brushed the dusting of snow that accumulated on his shoulders off and ran his numb hands through his wet hair.
He was suddenly struck by how silly he was acting. He was following a homeless beggar woman just because she had outwitted him. Although, there were not many people that could outwit him, the exception being that woman. Holmes was hit with a sudden pang of grief for his departed muse, silently cursing Moriarty's immortal soul for his cruelty.
Wading through the snow he crossed the building and looked around carefully before deciding to cross to the next building. Then, he spotted an odd mound of snow piled up against the chimney of the subsequent building. He raised his eyebrows as he felt a small jolt of adrenaline course through his body. Quietly hopping over the rift between the buildings, he approached the mound with absolute stealth.
Oh, Sherly. Y ur personality so hard to write?
Trying to make the story believable is hard work. Streets and buildings and complicated terrain…I know that in the films, a lot of the roofs are slanted pretty steeply. I'll probably go back and edit that later, but for now and the sake of simplicity and laziness, roofs are gonna be flat.