Night Ride on the Caucasus

[baronbalaz]

Who: The Baron and Sherlock Holmes
Where: About town
When: Twilight, June 4th
What: A meeting, long over due
Rating: PG
Status: Closed / Incomplete

Comments

[observededuce]

"I say, is that a cybernetic horse?"

Ostensibly, Sherlock was out conducting a survey of stray cats in Aternaville alleys--one could tell so much by perturbations in feline behaviour--but he couldn't help but notice the unusual animal pummeling down the road with a rather outlandishly Victorian rider at the reins. Even in the meager light of the street lamps, man and horse glinted like a Christmas shop display.

[baronbalaz]

Several yards after the dark-clad man in the alley made his off-hand comment, rider and steed came to a literal screeching halt, a spray of bright blue sparks blooming from the street in sharp arcs. Byron had heard Alba describe the man Sherlock, and as soon as the man in the alley spoke, Byron was certain it had to be him.

Nudging Sabriel into a turn, The Baron cantered back towards the alley, where a few of the more feral cats scattered at his approach.

"It is indeed good sir. You must be Sherlock." Now that he was still, eyes the color of cloudless evening blue swept over the man. Yes, this had to be him. "The one who recruits other people's wards to be their eyes and ears around town." Byron had never objected directly to this. To be honest such a man struck his curiosity something fierce. If nothing else, Alba trusted him, and for that along, he owed to her to be polite.

[observededuce]

Alba hadn't told Sherlock much about her guardian, and Sherlock hadn't pressed her, figuring that he could uncover whatever he wanted to know, should he ever need to.

"And you must be the Baron."

Blue and gold, tunic and cape, his posture on the horse: the Baron was very much intent on broadcasting his station, but it was genuine, not a pretension. Aristocratic and...not human? Sherlock's observations regarding the people he'd encountered in Aternaville had accrued sufficiently to allow partially confident deductions. 79 percent confidence, plus or minus five. And then there was that horse. "Is it a modification, or are they born or made that way?"

[baronbalaz]

"Byron Balaz," He slipped off of his mount, keeping one hand on the reigns even though Sabriel would have stayed without it. The beast's two slim, curved horns dipped down with it's broad head, the metal glinting darkly.

"Modification begins a month before gestation is complete. Nanotechnology is injected into the placenta that primes the foal for surgery not long after birth. Internal modifications occur first, and the armor plating is the final step. Their life span and intellect increases exponentially in the process, and breeding is an incredibly selective process with certain families in my time. Sabriel is the descendant of the first horses the Balaz family ever owned. He's quite tame, I assure you."

The stallion nudged closer to Sherlock, inviting him to touch it's wide, plated muzzle. "Has Alba told you much about me?" It was a fair question, and Byron didn't want to assume.

[observededuce]

Sherlock reached out his hand, fascinated by the machine-beast. The metal on its nose was surprisingly warm.

"No," he said in response. "She's determined to be discreet."

And she was quite good at it. She wasn't a closed book, but there was enough about her that she had to tell Sherlock or that he had had to discover over time to keep his interest.

[baronbalaz]

A soft, almost alluring chuckle escaped The Baron's bright red lips. Of course she had.

"I've found she's a rather determined young lady in general. Especially when it comes to the company she decides to keep. Though I am curious as to why a man such as you requires the network Alba has described." A slight bluff--Byron didn't know how deep Sherlock's information network in town ran, but in his experience, web-casters generally did it for two reasons. Defense and offence, or sometimes both.

Ancestors knew, there was nothing that went on in Kraushausen that his father hadn't known about. "Don't misinterpret me, I have no intention of interfering, but where I come from it's generally wise to know the natures of the local information brokers."

[observededuce]

A network? Sherlock huffed, an amused exhale. Two nodes didn't make much of a network. "She gave me a tour, when I first arrived. I found myself curious about the nature of the town, and Alba is a reliable and productive source of information. It's best to gather as much information as possible, or it won't be useful when you need it, don't you think?"

[baronbalaz]

"And what information are you seeking tonight?" Byron asked, content at this point to simply ask. "This place is certainly hasn't given it's secrets up easily, and believe me, I've tried." With techniques and equipment literally millions of years advanced on what Sherlock had available.

[observededuce]

"Cats," Sherlock said, reveling in the seeming non-sequitor. Sometimes it was easier--and frankly, more fun.

[baronbalaz]

Blond brows quirked. The animals were keeping their distance now that Byron was in the alley, some perched on narrow sills with backs arched.

"Can you communicate with them?" The question would have seemed absolutely absurd if it weren't completely earnest. "I'd have thought Alba would mention such an ability." Unless, like Byron, Sherlock had certain abilities he wanted to keep under wraps for the time being.

[observededuce]

For a moment, Sherlock considered allowing Balaz to believe that he could, in fact, communicate with cats. In a place like this, the deceit might hold for a while; credibly, someone else in the town probably could do.

But there was no real reason to do so, except as an exercise, and that wasn't worth the fallout at the inevitable reveal.

"No, but I can observe them, learn from them."

[baronbalaz]

A smile, small but somehow unearthly flitted across Byron's features. So the detective was a fellow student of the natural world.

Interesting.

"You're a naturalist?" The Baron asked, "I'm rather studied in the field myself, though a wholly different type of nature. The creatures of my native time and universe are not nearly as docile." But, the nest size of a bristling catepillar, if you were brave enough to approach and look carefully, was the best way to assess the health of the tree the creatures lived in, same as the ragged looking animals around them were a perfect guage as to the state of everything from the town sewer system to how well the local vermin population was doing.

[observededuce]

"I'm a student of all sciences that can advance my cause," Sherlock replied. "The behaviour--especially perturbations in the behaviour--of local fauna gives me a great deal of useful data."