There is a man sitting at the bar who looks up as Will comes in. Although his eyes don't rest on Will for very long, there is a sense that he sees quite a lot in that brief glance. A kind of analytical air to him.
Will has never much liked the feeling of being stared at -- of being analyzed, still less. He spots the source after a moment and raises his eyebrows at the man.
His own analysis of the other man takes perhaps a few seconds longer. Well to do, although he could be faking it well; his clothes don't fit perfectly in a few spots, as if they were borrowed from someone slightly bigger or smaller. The old-timey waistcoat is frankly weird, although he's starting to get the idea that he has to adjust his definition of weird around here. Not very well shaven but not exactly neglecting his appearance either.
Holmes offers up the polite facsimile of a smile and tilts his head a fraction of an inch to the left. If he notices Will's discomfort, it doesn't appear to be stopping him.
Richard has a convenient seat by the entrance to the bar, having thought, foolishly, that he wouldn't have to deal with new people today. It doesn't take more than a decade of keen observation to know that one should never make assumptions like that--and Richard's had several decades to observe.
[ooc: Ahaha. I'm willing to give it a try. If things start to go south -- like, violently south -- I may request that that interaction be struck from the record, though. That cool?]
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His own analysis of the other man takes perhaps a few seconds longer. Well to do, although he could be faking it well; his clothes don't fit perfectly in a few spots, as if they were borrowed from someone slightly bigger or smaller. The old-timey waistcoat is frankly weird, although he's starting to get the idea that he has to adjust his definition of weird around here. Not very well shaven but not exactly neglecting his appearance either.
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(I see the moon and the moon sees me. Molly used to put Josh to bed with that one.)
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"...welcome to the bar," he says.
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"Why is it in my flat?"
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He really, really hopes the explanation process won't take long.
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Sorry, Richard.
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He smiles and nods to Will politely.
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(There's an odd sense of . . . deja vu? Something about the young man seems familiar, but he can't pinpoint it. The polite nod . . .
I almost had it.
It'll come to you.
He can't place the feeling, but he listens to it.)
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