Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-7497475-20140127121339/@comment-25151516-20140207121244

The word "pain" was thumbtacked in James' mind when he tried summing up Noir. Unadulterated pain.

Holmes looked at the man on the ground, his face contorting with suffering. James could tell that the man was trying to formulate words but could not, through his bitten lips.

"Hold for a moment," he told Noir, touching his Lockpick to her prosthetic.

"W...we...weapon plans!" The man stuttered through the pain. "He was hired to get plans for a weapon! Now please stop!"

Whatever pain tolerance he had was gone. He whimpered and sat with two broken wrists.

"Thank you," Holmes turned and walked to his car, which had traffic piled up behind it. "Follow, Dark Angel. Let's have a talk with our thief friend."

He deactivated the deadlock through his phone when he opened the trunk, seeing Skeet Waylett regain consciousness.