DRABBLE REQUEST TIEM!

[candy__chan]

Okay, I am bored. And inspiration-less. And I saw that awesomely awesome post that ptps did for art requests. So I thought mebbie to get the plunnies running again, I'd offer a drabble request.

Because me + drawing = you all go blind. So!

I AM OPEN FOR FIC REQUESTS!These will probably be short-fic, unless something really noms on me. Not putting a

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Chance Encounter [2/3]

[candy__chan]

“Pardon the intrusion, my good man, but I must complement you on your most adventurous taste in haberdashery,” Layton said, observing the striking man in tweed who seemed to be passing the time in waiting by simply observing the people around him and smoking his pipe.

Said man glanced up from his pipe and nodded. “Thank you. Please consider the compliment returned.”

“You are a puzzle master as well?” Layton asked.

“In a manner of speaking. I am a detective, and the best of them all,” the man said. He certainly was a sight to behold, with his rather birdlike features, and that interesting tweed coat, and the pipe, and the deerstalker hat…to say nothing of his admittedly icy aura.

“Ah, I see. I’ve done a bit of that myself, but I am actually an archaeologist by trade.”

“A noble field, to be sure. Have you an area of interest?”

“Not particularly. I tend to follow that which interests me,” Layton confessed. “Which is frequently the study of puzzles and riddles. I enjoy being challenged. Although I have always been drawn towards the study of anthropology.”

“Human behavior is certainly a fascinating endeavor,” the strange man began, one long finger tapping against his chin. “I myself have been spending my time this evening observing the others. For example,” he pointed towards a rather short, wide gentleman on the other side of the room, “that man is a journalist by trade, as is evidenced by the ink on his hand and the imprint of a pen on his fingers. I noticed it when he passed earlier. Judging by his clothing, I would say he has no wife, for no self-respecting woman would allow him to step out in that particular ensemble.”

Layton found nothing to counter those assertions. “That is quite amazing.”

“Thank you,” the man replied. He looked as though he would have said more, but a second man appeared beside him, wearing the look of one who has finally located that which he was searching for.

This second man was wearing a brown suit and a mildly harried expression, and he stopped beside the bird-like man and gestured towards the tables.“Holmes, old boy, they would like us at our seats.”

“Very well, Watson,” the man (Holmes, it seemed) seemed a bit reluctant to acquiesce, but he did so anyway, pausing only to give a glance back. “A pleasure conversing with you, Mister…?”

“Layton. Hershel Layton. And I presume that you are…”

-o-