Forums » Forum Games » (IC) First impression of the character above you

Despite the somewhat disagreeable feelings between the two gentlemen, the artist doesn't seem too perturbed and simply waits politely to the side for a chance to speak up. When it comes, she offers Jim a friendly little wave and attempts to move past the unpleasantries. "Well, fancy seeing you again! Thank you for the kind words and encouragement--maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to try and find a sponsor. I'd just feel so silly asking anyone...I've got no business sense, you know, I'd probably end up paying them."

Maisi laughs lightly but does intend to look into the subject; any and all advice is worth looking into for someone in her position, after all. Fixing her tranquil but inquisitive gaze on the other, her head falls to the side by a degree in an expression of observation. "I recall my first impression of you was thinking that you're a friendly, intelligent gentleman, who probably knows a tremendous amount more than anyone else in the room at almost any given time; but, beyond that, you seem...constantly shifting."
A look that could be considered confusion lingers on her features for a moment before she smiles again; sympathy and affection suddenly become evident in her tone and she ventures to give his arm a gentle pat. "My impression of you right now, on the other hand, is that you seem tired. I hope you're taking care of yourself, Jim. If you'd ever like some quiet company and a nice cup of tea, please don't hesitate to call."

"You two are going to start tongues wagging!" The dark-haired figure leaned against the wall not wishing to indulge his glance upon the two petitioners, his features expressionless. Then slowly, after a moment of thought, his eyes sought Moriarty. "Are you so weary from your original obsession that you seek distraction from a woman? Pausing your foothold, while your enemy strides forth! You're supposed to be ahead of him not the other way round."
"As for Maisi. Ask and you shall receive. Stay silent, and you may not aspire to anything. Claim your space and carve your own path, you have the means once you obtain some pocket money from Moriarty."

*laughing hard* know what? I like this guy..though I doubt you'd think the other way around. Still, not bad for an insult.

"Just another disgusting, warmongering despot." The wolflion scoffs and turns his head though managing to scowl, anger mixed with contempt. "You're just like Sephiroth minus the intelligence. Pray that our paths never cross, scum, for I will show you no mercy."

You remind me of my dog. Except he never talked."

“You remind me of my 1st ex-wife. She was a b... um ... ‘witch’ too.”

"Ah, American," Sherlock begins, making mental notes of the details that began to percolate in his mind. "Outspoken, most likely, and fiercely protective." He abstained, hesitating as though he were bouncing different likelihoods about. "Though jaded." Sherlock refused to elaborate on the subject. He felt it was unnecessary.

"Military," the consulting detective continues, waving nonchalantly as if batting something obstructive aside. "They all have a certain comportment about them -- it's self-evident. Discharged, but you were more than ready for it, I think. You spent some time in the police force, but it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, and despite your staunch patriotism, something was amiss, and you needed fresh air, as it were."

"You're a detective," Sherlock hummed, looking rather pleased with this bit of new information he managed to procure. "You've assumed a familial role, haven't you? Can't be any other explanation -- I mean, it sort of fell into your lap, that is. I certainly hope you appreciate the gift with which you've been bestowed."

"Well, what have we here? The methodical, observing sleuth, who proves himself capable of finding the obscurer details." His grin divulged his amusement at encountering the obsessed detective. "I see you averted Mrs. Doyle's amorous advances and her tea. She may act the average woman, yet, she could possibly outsmart you, a new adversary perhaps?" He smirked feeling satisfied that this could disquiet the detective. "I may write a fictional article of my own, entitled A Study in Tea." He snorts.

Starrick gazed at the being, and for a moment squinted as though she recognized something about the man. Something that she either found familiar or something that seemed bothersome. But then, if he did run in criminal circles, who was she to judge? "Ain't ya tha' bloke tha' runs tha' occult shop," she questioned, tilting her head before she smirked, "Fancy yerself an author then? How 'bout a biography on yers truly?" Star winked and gave what approximately was half a bow and curtsy. "O' course, I get royalties, right?"

Lumina eyes the human girl with vague disinterest but her expression carries a cordial half-smile, strange gold eyes wandering over Starrick for a lengthy moment before speaking. "You have quick hands and a sharp tongue, dont you? They often get you into trouble, or perhaps, help you avoid it."

James regarded the woman with a wariness a man of his particular caliber likely should have. The consulting criminal maintains a level of distance between him and the matriarch, but his stance is relaxed and undaunted. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, he thought genially to himself, his coal-like gaze glinting sportively.

"Your majesty," he begins, tilting himself forward in a gracious bow. "You've strayed far from your throne, don't you think? Perhaps you wanted to mingle with the hoi polloi and see what we're all up to, hm?" Jim follows up his statement with a well tempered chuckle.

"You have a bright incandescence about you, but you associate with the darkness like that of a secret rendezvous between lovers, and I'm rather inclined to respect that. There's something to be said about how two completely different worlds are capable of meeting in the middle."

He dared to approach her now, his steps even and more self-assured. "The sun watches what I do," his smile was knavish, and he brought up a single digit to his lips as though hushing the world around him, "but the moon knows all of my secrets."

“Lawful evil, huh? Quite the oxymoron don’t you think? But I believe you hide behind that, I’ve been in enough court politics to know when even a lord wants to use it to his advantage.” She circled the stranger “but what about you makes you want to be a consulting criminal? There are better ways of vengeance if that’s what it’s about, trust me.”

*she sat in the corner of the room too scared to think because of the man talking to her master she looked up for a split second at the detective and was too scared to say anything after all her master always told her that everyone and everything on the outside world was full of monsters and she didn't know what to do so she stayed in the corner with her legs bent and her shaking was noticeable to everyone in the room as well as all the cuts and bruises on her tiny body.

"Huh... Freaky."

What every pre-teen boy imagines themselves as in history class

"And yet.. here you are, darling; being one of the kind who wouldn't even be remembered it its books." Warm as spiced honey was the voice that came from the depths of cyberspace to address the young woman, though it was given a face almost immediately; a dark sneer stuck on Flarus's muzzle- his eye for beauty hadn't been disappointed. "Whatever it may be that you are trying to conceal so deep down below.. it wouldn't matter. You have put on a mask so convincingly, so charmingly average, that none would come to desire to learn what is lurking within." Forgettable, it wasn't a term that he enjoyed using, less so in the context of talking to a pretty face. Yet at the same time, it was all Flarus saw: a pretty face, with a needlessly condescending voice as its only sign of life. He circled to close behind her, his snout by her ear. "Though I feel like you and I both know that some things are indeed best left forgotten, hm?" As was what seemed to be troubling her. Such a shame..

"You sure know a lot about masks and faking to be something you're not, hmrrr." States the Werelion with some sleepiness to her voice as if she had just woken up.

"I think you're also hiding something, hmrrr, but I get the feeling it's not something to be embarrassed about. Limber up and accept who you are, you'll be happier because of it, hmrrr. It worked for me at least."

"Really can't say that the whole 'accepting yourself' is a great thing and that you'll actually be happier for it - which ya won't - but I can dig anyone who doesn't seem to want to do anything or have a care in the world." Samuel's tired scowl slipped into a smile as he gave a thumbs up.

"Good on you for hating on doing stuff!"

"Oh here we go," Greg groans, his deductive capabilities really being put on the spot here. "You're kinda priggish, huh? I imagine it's a cover for somethin' more deeply rooted. I can't say that I'd know what that was exactly, but you look like you've got a good head on your shoulders. Far be it from me to judge though. Don't change for the sake of others, but I've a feelin' that you've got issues with that -- someone standin' in your way?"

More constructively, he would add, "I'd say you use your hands quite a bit. You a mechanic, perhaps?"

“Hey, a proper inspector. Another male though, so I have doubts you will be all that thorough in looking into the sexual harassment and assault on women at the nightclub I was playing at the other night.”