illwriteatragedy:
[ It’s a troubling, gruesome scene — though he’s years into the field and there’s been worse, the way the bodies lay on the floor still makes his lips curl up in disgust. The stab wounds are infinite; this was a personal vendetta against everyone who was now dead in the room. ]
[ He keeps out of the way of the cops, already flashed his badge to assure them of his identity. Not a cop, but SHIELD had dealt with murders like this far too many times. A serial killer that couldn’t be caught by the police was still a threat.
There is one man he doesn’t recognize as a cop or anything else, really, analyzing the scene with a clever eye. Roman openly stares, waiting for him to open his mouth. ]
-- can you see that?
[ Holmes squints at the peculiarity of the scene, makes his way over to inspect further. Watson, he can hear, is already looking around the rest of the house, glancing at the bodies with her careful surgeon's eyes.
The quick flare of pride is put aside for inspection later; he does this often, complimenting her not to encourage but for the sake of expressing his own admiration of her. She is, after all, remarkable.
Gray-blue irises flicker between the components of the room and the bodies still strewn on the floor and he puckers his mouth in thought. His fingers twitch for a cigar -- not through any nicotine craving but out of a desire to feel what everyone in the room felt, the decadence of the scene.
-- his eyes meet Watson's across the room and he knows what is peculiar.
Holmes rocks on his heels, excitable, as he turns to the unfamiliar man on the scene. Not police, his mind supplies, maybe from the army if Holmes had to guess from the way he stood, the thick callouses on his hands from handling weaponry. ]
There's something quite peculiar; haven't you noticed?
[ He can already hear dear Detective Bell groaning, Watson smiling behind her hand, keen eyes picking up on his little showing off. ]
