#queued;

Tired Sentences, Vol. 4

Mycroft did not know this man. That was a little strange as he knew the vast majority of the Diogenes Club's members - or, at least, he knew their faces and names - but it was not unheard of. The club had expanded a lot since it had first begun, and with that than expansion came the inability to keep track of absolutely everything . Mycroft simply didn't have the time.

He'd entered the Stranger's Room to find a book he knew to be sitting on one of the shelves. Of course, it was hardly an interesting book - exciting reads was something else that Mycroft no longer had time for - but it was one which contained some information that had suddenly become necessary and therefore was still of interest to him.

He hadn't been planning on paying the other man any heed. In fact, Mycroft hadn't even been planning on acknowledging his presence. Just because communication was allowed in the Stranger's Room didn't mean it was required, and he was far too tired to even consider a polite nod in silent greeting. Normally, he would have responded with little more than silent derision were a stranger to issue such a bold instruction to him, but clearly Mycroft was more exhausted than even he himself realised because he actually stopped when he was told to sit down.

"Pardon?"

The sheer audacity of it combined with the need for whatever rest he could get cut through Mycroft's typical well-maintained confidence and left him befuddled. Really, that was quite the achievement! The number of individuals who had managed it in the past could be counted on one hand, and none of them were people he didn't know. Thankfully, there was no one else present, as the reaction would have risked irreparable damage to his reputation were anyone he worked with in the room.

Second Meetings Sentences, Vol. 2

"Oh yeah? Well, you ain't too dull yourself, are you?"

Dallas had found himself a new drinking buddy. Historically speaking, this wasn't too unusual - he'd always enjoyed a strong drink and the atmosphere of a bustling bar - but in recent times, he'd found himself too busy to indulge in that particular vice. Between his work, his other work, his boyfriend, his mother, his recently found father and brother, his 'dog', and everything else in his life, there wasn't much time left for fun.

But very little time didn't mean no time at all, and having found himself with nothing else to do while back in Texas for his assigned month off, he'd drifted into one of the local dive bars. Jesse was aware at a horse auction, visiting hours were over at his mother's nursing home, and Nibbles had been fed earlier in the day, so what else did he have to do other than spend some time drinking with friends?

Only, his friends were also busy, hence the need to find new people to talk to. That hadn't been a particularly difficult goal to achieve, of course; Dallas was an excessively talkative guy with too much confidence for his own good - he had no issues at all wandering into a new place and striking up conversation.

Mind you, what exactly he'd been talking about was a bit of a blur now. As they so often did, words had tumbled out of his mouth like a waterfall, and he'd gone from horses, to Texas, to D.C, to his new suit, to the quality of bars in the capital, to God only knew what. It must have been somewhat entertaining, at least, otherwise the guy he was talking to wouldn't be calling him interesting!

"Let me get the next round," Dallas offered, fishing a handful of notes out of his wallet and learning over the bar. "What d'you want, uh-"

It suddenly hit him that he wasn't sure what this guy's name was.

“You there! Floaty blue rodent!”

A shrill voice seems to come out of nowhere. All around here, there is nothing but some crumbling walls and tall yellow grass. A thunderstorm brews in the distance, sending winds that ripples the gleaming garden in beautiful swirls.

The speaker’s eyes are briefly revealed by a parting of the grass, dark and angled like a fusion between a fox and a cheetah. She speaks again.