[OOM] Oswin, Moriarty and Poker.

[awesome_binomial_theorems]

Moriarty's room is - much as someone would expect. There's a bed, a desk with an array of soil samples and various examining equipment (as well as a pile of unmarked papers) and a few large armchairs and a leather sofa set around a coffee table.

Moriarty holds open the door for Oswin, before setting the bottles on the coffee table and taking off his coat, hanging it up by the door. His boots are deposited beneath it. After all, it's rude to wear a coat and boots inside.

"I hope you don't mind losing too much," he says cheerily.

Comments

[awesome_binomial_theorems]

When Moriarty finishes #8, he moves - with a kind of finality to the strumming that suggests this is the last piece of the impromptu concert - onto Silent Night.

It's a short song, over in a little over two minutes, and then he's very carefully setting the violin to one side.

[souffle_girlek]

"It's beautiful, James." Her voice is soft, to fit the mood set by the music. "I declare I'm satisfied that the debt is paid."

[awesome_binomial_theorems]

Moriarty beams, ducking his head slightly as he heads over to settle into an armchair - not the one he'd played cards from, but a closer one, situated next to Oswin's chair.

"Glad to be of service."

[souffle_girlek]

"Where did you learn?" She asks idly, offering her half of a bottle. "There aren't too many who can play, where I'm from."

[awesome_binomial_theorems]

"At university. My patron, the, er, one paying for me to go and vouching for me, insisted," Moriarty says, a little ruefully, taking the bottle off her and knocking back a few gulps. "He paid for my lessons. I picked it up quickly."

[souffle_girlek]

She raises her eyebrow archly, stretching a foot over to poke his leg.
"Vouching for you? Don't tell me you were a bad boy, James."

[awesome_binomial_theorems]

Moriarty chuckles. Possibly a bit more and a bit louder than he would if he were entirely sober.

"No, er - I mean, I was a thirteen year old fisherman's son from a conquered territory. Just about as far from the ideal university admission as they come."

[souffle_girlek]

"Fisherman? As in... real fish?" If anything, she sounds fascinated. She has absolutely no idea what one might do to convince a fish to come out of the water.

[awesome_binomial_theorems]

Moriarty peers at her, then nearly bursts out laughing.

"- Aye, real fish. Do they not have those where you're from?"

[souffle_girlek]

She pouts, and would lob something at him, but there doesn't appear to be anything in arm's reach that fits the criteria of 'throwable' and 'unlikely to actually hurt if it connected'. Pity.

"Yes, just... on a plate. I haven't the foggiest how they got them there." For all she knows there's fish farms with single-cell enclosures that are flash-frozen when the fish is big enough.

[awesome_binomial_theorems]

"I, er," Moriarty blinks, for a moment, because he's never encountered anyone who doesn't have at least a vague understanding of how fishing works. "Nets. There are nets - into the sea."

Beat.

"Nets."

[souffle_girlek]

"... Nets." She bursts into giggles at the mental image that provides. "Like... butterfly nets? Swoosh?" She asks, complete with appropriate hand gestures to mimic attempting to catch a fish in a net that small.

[awesome_binomial_theorems]

"No, like, really big nets," Moriarty makes a wide gesture. "Giant nets, that you throw out and then wait for fish to get caught in."

[souffle_girlek]

".... Sounds... inefficient." She blinks, considering. "What if they don't get in the net?"

[awesome_binomial_theorems]

Moriarty shakes his head. "It's fine enough that if they swim through, they get caught. You throw it down somewhere with a lot of fish, over a large area, and you can get a good haul."

[souffle_girlek]

"Huh." It's clear from her tone she can't quite visualize it, but she's willing to go on faith for now.

(How many fish can be in one nets-length of area, anyway?)

(... is there a formula for fish?)

[awesome_binomial_theorems]

Moriarty grins, and then -

- promptly lets out a really, really big yawn.

[souffle_girlek]

"Hah!" There's V-for-victory gesturing in response, and she entirely clumsily gets to her feet. "Now you, mister, need to sleep, and I'm gonna go... um. Fall over."

[awesome_binomial_theorems]

"Stay," Moriarty says immediately.

Beat. He swings himself gracelessly to his feet.

"I - have a sofa. I can sleep on that. No sense in you stumbling along to your room when there's room here."

[souffle_girlek]

She squints at him, fairly sure she's tracking wrong, but not sure exactly what she missed there.

"... You want me to steal your bed?" She finally asks, befuddled, when she fails to make any other sense out of the statement.

[awesome_binomial_theorems]

Moriarty squints back at her, because he can't help but feel he's lost the thread of this conversation at some point.

Very slowly, to make sure that he's saying what he thinks he's saying: "It would be ungentlemanly for me to ask you to traverse the bar's corridors while ..." he waves a hand eloquently "inebriated. I was suggesting that you stay and sleep here."

Beat.

"In the bed. While I sleep on the sofa." Pause. Then, to clarify: "But - it's not stealing, because the bed stays here, and I'm letting you use it."

[souffle_girlek]

Yeeeeup, stealing the bed. She rolls her eyes at him (and immediately regrets it as that as it makes the room infinitely more spinny).

"I will concede the point that I'm probably not the most ambulatory of people." AKA a superlightweight, who has no business drinking rotgut. "But I'm not the one who got used as a punching bag. I can take the sofa."

[awesome_binomial_theorems]

"You are my guest, and a lady, and I would be completely remiss in letting you take the sofa. It's one night, and it's not as if the sofa is made of punching, I'll be fine."

[souffle_girlek]

The 'and a lady' bit earns a somewhat indignant face, but she does realize that this is one battle she's going to lose - and horribly, if she keeps at it.
"Alright, alright. If you insist." She concedes, with moderately more grace than she possesses physically, at the moment. "Thank you."

[awesome_binomial_theorems]

"It is no problem," Moriarty says levelly, and after a quick glance around for a suitable blanket, finds one situated in an open box in one corner of the room and grabs it.