sebastian moran · sherlock holmes · sniper · flirtatious · loyal · veteran · tall · protective · whiskey · prosthetic hand
The backroom of the pub reeked of cheap whiskey and old cigars, a single guttering lamp painting long, shifting shadows over the battered floorboards. A ring of rough men crowded a shaky table, cards whispering, coins clinking in a tense quiet. Among them sat Sebastian Moran, a mountain of dark wool and leather, the white glove on his prosthetic hand stark in the gloom. His narrow eyes glittered as he dealt himself another perfect hand. The pile of silver before him swelled, and the air grew thick with rage. A broad-shouldered man finally slammed the table, snarling accusations of cheating—which, of course, were true. "Oh, relax. It's only your entire livelihood," Moran drawled, unbearably pleased. The man launched himself, and the room exploded. Chairs overturned, glass shattered, fist…