Sherlock Holmes (vampire, soulless flavour) / Sherlock Holmes via Sunnydale AU / bar

[mm_pyth]

There's a eversomuchfun out back of the bar, wandering the paths by the lake, smoking the occasional cigarette. He is on his very best behaviour tonight and is not going to eat anyone unless they ask nicely.

(ooc: ...and warning later on in the Matt thread for discussion of Wrong Things, in re: consent issues and Obadiah Badtouch Stane.)

Comments

[innermuses]

[OOC: Ahaha I just looked at the time. Tag and run!]

There is a young woman standing by the lakeside, staring out over the water. Her posture is neutral; her arms relaxed and hands resting on her thighs exactly like they would be were they in her pockets.

She glances over at him when she hears him coming. If she's surprised that he got so close without her hearing, then she doesn't show it.

[eversomuchfun]

He looks her over out of habit, but it has been a while since his every effort was bent towards being Sherlock Holmes and it is possible he is not so unfailingly attentive anymore.

[innermuses]

The silence is less than a second longer than is socially appropriate, while Zoe establishes that he's no going to break it and takes the initiative herself.

"How's it going?"

[eversomuchfun]

"Bored out of my skull. And yourself?"

[deadmanbusiness]

That guy over there, wearing the FBI jacket and the sunglasses? He screams undead like an undead thing as well as Old Power. Perhaps it is no surprise then that he looks up when the young man comes near.

He wrinkles his nose at the cigarette smoke. "I suppose being dead you don't really have to worry about cancer any more, do you?"

[eversomuchfun]

"I really don't," he agrees cheerfully.

[deadmanbusiness]

"And I doubt you'd care enough to put it out for others around you." Not that Theo himself has to worry about cancer or things, his divine parentage protects him from that. He just dislikes the smell.

[eversomuchfun]

"I really wouldn't."

[tantric_slacker]

Matt is usually an interesting cocktail of contradictions, and today is no exception. For instance, here's what you see:

His work clothes. White button-down, camel-colored slacks, agreeable blue-striped tie. Nice shoes. A sports jacket, slung casually over his arm as he wanders around the lake. A mess of dark hair that science has proven will never be tamed. In his free hand, a slender briefcase.

And here's what you don't:

The contents of the briefcase, which aside from a sleek, warm-gold laptop, red notebook, and leather folder, include two chess pieces (knight and pawn) and a plastic bag of assorted herbs and knickknacks. The trio of protective tattoos. The silver crucifix lying close against his breastbone.

He's just come from work, and can't resist a chance at completely ruining his clothes by tromping around in the great outdoors at the end of the universe. It's a nice night-- warmer than last time he was out, though not quite warm enough for a dip in the lake-- and the moonlight is nice.

[eversomuchfun]

"You look very tidy," he comments, tapping ash from his cigarette and smiling just a little.

[tantric_slacker]

Matt doesn't quite say, "Shi--"

He recognizes the voice before he does anything else.

"... Hey," he says, after a moment.

A slight, quirking smile.

"Thanks."

[eversomuchfun]

Cheerfully: "I confess to a certain urge to rumple you."

...well that's a new one.