08-17-2019, 04:58 PM
The stranger seemed unimposing enough through the crack in the door. Bland, even. Bland colors, bland expression, shoes worn and scuffed enough that they could camouflage in dirt.
The stranger’s gaze, however, sharpened at being forced to squeeze through a perfectly working door as though it were a suspect sewage grate. There was a split second of sharpened metal in his eyes, like the light had caught on copper only to reveal it mostly rust.
So far, Aslan’s presumed target seemed more alert than violent... for now. It kept Aslan on edge. The imposing fellow may well suspect, but he could not prove – and that was an important distinction in this line of work.
The man before Jules was in far less disarray. The hat and his shoes added to a taller illusion, bringing him to two third’s a head shorter versus what might have been a full head’s length without. He was broad-shouldered, though it was difficult to tell under the jacket, tie and suit much beyond that. Every button was buttoned up.
“Thank you, sir,” he said, words rapid with a brief roll on the ‘r’. “Loocky for me you’re fauss tae the doorr.”
He lost a full inch when he took his bowler hat off, though looked no less confident for it. He hung it up by the door and swept a leather gloved hand over his combed back hair.
“Coul’a swoorn s’wuz a bayk’ry nae loong 'goo. New’n town?”
The stranger’s smile was pleasant – overly so. A fresh carpet laid over broken glass. When Jules’ gaze settled on the subtle indent in his pocket, that smile became unsettlingly genuine. He turned to face him, somehow even closer than he had been squeezing past in the door. Scuffed shoe toes grazed the front of Jules’, yet with an easy smile as though he weren’t invading his space. At this distance, the odors of almond and mothballs were quite pungent.
“Overdue a lee’l reepair,” he said with a nod down that seemed almost profane at this proximity. “Shood Ay make’n ‘poin’men’? D’yae take walk-ins?”
At this distance, there was the smell of fresh whiskey on his breath – but his eyes and movements were far too alert to come off as drunken. There was something else... earthy, though it seemed dampened by the alcohol.
The stranger’s gaze, however, sharpened at being forced to squeeze through a perfectly working door as though it were a suspect sewage grate. There was a split second of sharpened metal in his eyes, like the light had caught on copper only to reveal it mostly rust.
So far, Aslan’s presumed target seemed more alert than violent... for now. It kept Aslan on edge. The imposing fellow may well suspect, but he could not prove – and that was an important distinction in this line of work.
The man before Jules was in far less disarray. The hat and his shoes added to a taller illusion, bringing him to two third’s a head shorter versus what might have been a full head’s length without. He was broad-shouldered, though it was difficult to tell under the jacket, tie and suit much beyond that. Every button was buttoned up.
“Thank you, sir,” he said, words rapid with a brief roll on the ‘r’. “Loocky for me you’re fauss tae the doorr.”
He lost a full inch when he took his bowler hat off, though looked no less confident for it. He hung it up by the door and swept a leather gloved hand over his combed back hair.
“Coul’a swoorn s’wuz a bayk’ry nae loong 'goo. New’n town?”
The stranger’s smile was pleasant – overly so. A fresh carpet laid over broken glass. When Jules’ gaze settled on the subtle indent in his pocket, that smile became unsettlingly genuine. He turned to face him, somehow even closer than he had been squeezing past in the door. Scuffed shoe toes grazed the front of Jules’, yet with an easy smile as though he weren’t invading his space. At this distance, the odors of almond and mothballs were quite pungent.
“Overdue a lee’l reepair,” he said with a nod down that seemed almost profane at this proximity. “Shood Ay make’n ‘poin’men’? D’yae take walk-ins?”
At this distance, there was the smell of fresh whiskey on his breath – but his eyes and movements were far too alert to come off as drunken. There was something else... earthy, though it seemed dampened by the alcohol.
