We'll choke on our vomit and that will be the end

[caveatwalls]

Who: Sherlock Holmes and Bruce Wayne (...as neither Sherlock or Bruce)
When: September 29th, briefly before sirens
Where: Any given shifty bar
Summary: Badasses in disguise cross paths. Zaniness ensues.
Warnings: Violence, maybe? Will update if needed.

Comments

[caveatwalls]

Sherlock doesn't have to fake the look of eagerness when the pill falls into his hand. Finally, a proper sample. Now, the problem would be getting out without having to consume it.

A pained look painted itself across Carter's features, turning the pill in his fingers while he kept his cigarette clasped firmly between his lips.

"Yeah, well, good to know I didn't get a high school diploma for nothing. Fifty bucks a pop?"

Like the burn, the accent was definitely something unheard of for Siren's Port natives. It sounded more like someone who'd been watching too many movies with scenes exactly like the one they were currently playing out. Police entrapment? Unlikely. The narcotics department was good, but rarely did plants carry actual samples of the drugs they were pretending to sell. This could, of course, be a fake pill, but there was still something far too elaborate about it to be SPPD work.

"I mean, I heard that this shit turns people crazy. I don't want to end up on a bad trip around my kids, you know? I just... need a little edge taken off."

The bleary eyes turn as pleading as his voice. Desperation that just needed a little sugar coating to tip him over. Do go on. Really sell it.

[kingofrooks]

'Around my kids'. Either that was a real plea for his children, or... something else. It was common for men like Carter (and Layton himself) to claim to have children in order to gain some sort of sympathy. This man looked a little too young to have any- but then, what would Layton know? It wasn't as if he was an expert on people or something. That, he left to the shrinks and the cops.

(There was a part of him, hidden deep inside, then quirked his lips upwards. Oh, there was something different about this man alright; something about him that was almost too polished, too believable. The sugar-coating- oh yes. There was a desperation in him that wanted the drug.

But not for eating. Was he a cop? He hadn't heard of any undercover missions within this area.)

Layton shrugged slightly. "Ya won't 'aveta worry 'bout it. The ones with the bad trips? They're the nutso, ya know?" He reached up, and coarsely turned his finger beside his forehead- suggestive, rude. The grin on his face was almost lascivious, hiding depth of meaning.

An inside joke with this man he just met.

"Ya and I, we normal folks- we've got nothin' ta fear from it." He waved a hand. "That one's free. Ya can try it, if ya like."

[caveatwalls]

Damn, the kids line was spreading it too thick, wasn't it? Move on from the subject. Back to the matter at hand.

"God, who even makes this kind of shit?" Carter says it flippantly, but Sherlock really wants the answer. Someone this low on the chain probably didn't know, but they had to get the drugs somewhere.

Part of him was tempted to try it. For scienctific reasons, really. To test it. He could only really understand the symptoms if he experienced them firsthand. But no.

"Nah, I got caught smoking some shit in the bathroom here once and nearly got banned. Don't wanna risk that."