Work Text:
Alone.
He'd always been alone.
He'd been alone for so long that he wasn't aware exactly when "bored" turned to "lonely".
He had always much preferred to entertain himself with dead people- the living died too easily.
At least dead people couldn't leave him.
But they got boring after a while- there were only so many interesting ones, just like living ones.
Once in a while, he felt the urge to make more.
He was first and foremost a genius.
He simply deleted those that called him anything else.
Yes, he was a loner, and totally at peace with the fact.
It got things done.
But simply existing on a higher plane than everyone else, just being the sole shark in a sea of goldfish was so tedious- sometimes he felt an ache somewhere withing for a mental equal, for a- companion?
He needed to do something, engage his brain.
Genius does need audience.
He could literally feel his brain matter shriveling up from sheer disuse.
He'd never had a friend before, and he didn't intend to have one- or did he?
Maybe, if he found an intellectual equal, or even a intellect slightly more developed than a rock, he'd have his first play-date...
A Twitter search later, and his black eyes glittered.
...He'd see if Sherlock Holmes was still "bored".