Post by Justice, The Cloaked Cavalier on Jun 16, 2011 22:23:19 GMT -8
The 21st century had not been kind to Basil.
His work with the acting troupe gave him a viable income, but he found life between performances frightfully dull.
Chin on hand, the mouse lounged in his mean little flat without even a violin to soothe his sinking spirits. Oh, he would purchase one as soon as he saved enough, but every creature comfort that might make life bearable was so dashed expensive.
He ought to practise controlling his energy powers. Or spend some more time correlating data on this era's super-heroes. Or pick up his dry cleaning. But, alas, Basil's spirits were fast sinking into depression, and he lacked the energy for much beyond sighing.
An odd tapping at the door barely elicited a raised eyebrow. Doubtless it was the landlady with some new complaint. Although...it didn't sound like her knock.
Bestirring himself at last, the detective--check that, former detective, opened the door to find a human female kneeling on the pavement. Nothing could've surprised Basil more.
"Excuse me, but I'm looking for a private detective. Are you for hire?"
Except, perhaps, that.
Yes, he'd placed a pasteboard advertisement in his front window, but no one had ever actually enquired.
It took Basil a moment to gain possession of himself. "Yes, certainly, Miss...pardon me...Ma'am. One moment, please."
As he could not possibly invite the lady inside, the mouse shut the door long enough to whip off his dressing gown, run his fingers through his hair and slip into his coat and hat, before presenting himself once more.
"Now then, Basil of Baker Street, at your service. How may I be of assistance?"
His work with the acting troupe gave him a viable income, but he found life between performances frightfully dull.
Chin on hand, the mouse lounged in his mean little flat without even a violin to soothe his sinking spirits. Oh, he would purchase one as soon as he saved enough, but every creature comfort that might make life bearable was so dashed expensive.
He ought to practise controlling his energy powers. Or spend some more time correlating data on this era's super-heroes. Or pick up his dry cleaning. But, alas, Basil's spirits were fast sinking into depression, and he lacked the energy for much beyond sighing.
An odd tapping at the door barely elicited a raised eyebrow. Doubtless it was the landlady with some new complaint. Although...it didn't sound like her knock.
Bestirring himself at last, the detective--check that, former detective, opened the door to find a human female kneeling on the pavement. Nothing could've surprised Basil more.
"Excuse me, but I'm looking for a private detective. Are you for hire?"
Except, perhaps, that.
Yes, he'd placed a pasteboard advertisement in his front window, but no one had ever actually enquired.
It took Basil a moment to gain possession of himself. "Yes, certainly, Miss...pardon me...Ma'am. One moment, please."
As he could not possibly invite the lady inside, the mouse shut the door long enough to whip off his dressing gown, run his fingers through his hair and slip into his coat and hat, before presenting himself once more.
"Now then, Basil of Baker Street, at your service. How may I be of assistance?"
