Aug 18, 2013
temporal-tailor replied to your post: Though honestly, I just require everyone’s...
Gonna keep me in business, Cecil?
Unfortunately, everyone who deals with me on a regular basis already knows the rules. Sorry!
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temporal-tailor replied to your post: Though honestly, I just require everyone’s...
Gonna keep me in business, Cecil?
Unfortunately, everyone who deals with me on a regular basis already knows the rules. Sorry!
Squints.
Squints so fucking loud the keyboard catches fire.
temporal-tailor replied to your post: That was a bad idea. I fly like a brick.
Didja do a flip?
Yes I did a bloody flip!
temporal-tailor replied to your post: for a guy who prefers dames you sure seem to be after that old man D.
Fuck you.
Not in your dreams, pal.
Now that he knows the way, it takes no time at all, getting down to the same patch of grass that saw blood the last time. Damned if Sleuth isn't bouncing on his feet in excitement, either. It's been a rough few days, but for good reason: his first murder case in his city, and it went without a hitch.
Well. If you ignore the scattering of birdshot that ended up in his left thigh. It's a small price to pay for a mission successfully accomplished, and nothing that a little clinic-given painkillers on top of some beer can't fix.
The night is warm, faintly smelling of rain, and Pavel paces across the grass, surprisingly at peace. If the old man thinks he's going to play fair this time around, heh. This'll be fun.
Come on come on come on!
temporal-tailor replied to your post: Pickin birdshot outta my leg myself instead a goin...
Dumbshit. I get that feelin’, though, ain’t too fond of ‘em myself. Need a medic?
Oi!
Nah, I'm just fine. Nothin a strong drink won't fix.
temporal-tailor liked your post: Damn, I’m still sore.
Speak of the devil.
It takes more than a half-hour for him to get to the park in question, but in his defense, he's never been on the planet before. Let alone in the dark of night. Suffice to say, Sleuth makes sure he's packing some heat before he leaves home. The weight of the key in his pocket is comforting.
Actually being on Derse is bizarre in itself, especially to someone so steeped in the culture of the royal courts and the interplanetary war. It's far more like his own Midnight City than even the rumors he remembers hearing about his own timeline's Derse. Watching his shadow track over the sidewalk as he walks in the direction a stranger pointed out to him, Sleuth mulls over these thoughts, holding memories and observations up in his head the way one might hold two pictures up to examine.
More trees up ahead -- yeah, okay, that's definitely the place. Dark, but not terribly so, with the streetlights nearby and all. A nice quiet place for a scrap. Just the thought is enough to get his blood up, ticking his mind back over into the focused combat pattern of thinking.
Doesn't look like anyone else is there yet. Must take the old man a while to walk down here, with a cane and all.
Heh. Hehe.
Sneering to himself, Sleuth shrugs of his trenchcoat, tossing it and his hat in a pile at the foot of a tree. A little stretching, a little shadow-boxing, get himself nice and loose, and the Feltie won't know what hit him.