pillows her cheek on the knuckles of one hand and nods. it's as simple as that! she put good work and bad money into making it so, for Herlock who lives in a world where magic cannot be. ]
Concentrate on it. Hold it in your mind. You will need to perform appropriate motion, as well.
[ she shows him: a hand with fingers splayed passed before the face, indicating obscurement ]
[Oh, a motion to go along with it, too. A dash of showmanship, and Sholmes does appreciate dramatic flair now and again!]
In that case, perhaps...
[Ah, well, perhaps it's predictable of him, but he really does want to disguise himself as the perfect Irene Adler. So why not do that?
Hat now atop his head, and a hand moving passing his face, he draws forth in his mind the image of Irene, a perfectly elegantly lady; not an instance that is simply Sholmes doing his best to emulate one, though he admittedly does a fair job on his own.
The magic manifests, and behold! Here sits "Irene Adler" before her, still only half dressed, mind.]
[Ohhh, what a change. He reaches up touch his face, then slides both hands downwards to cup his chest.]
Ohh.
[And, seemingly oblivious to Sprezzatura’s internal crisis, suddenly darts up and crosses over to the vanity, where he leans forward and places both palms flat to the desk, examining his newly feminine features in the mirror.
Enjoy the sight of his butt.]
Amazing. Absolutely incredible! It’s nigh impossible to tell I’m Herlock Sholmes at all!
At least she gets to admire the view for a minute or two more, as Sholmes practically mutters to himself in the mirror, all admiration for how well the disguise works, how it looks just like he imagined Irene Adler to truly be. Has he forgotten about his wife, waiting for him on the bed?
Well, not entirely. Thankfully.
Finally, he spins on his heel, hurries back over to her, practically hops onto the bed and splays himself all over her in a semi-hug.]
[ even if he had, she couldn't find it in herself to be upset by this. there is true joy in seeing one of his disguises come to life precisely as he had always imagined her, and Sprezzatura thrills on that. when he comes over to lay atop her in an embrace, she pulls him in with both hands.
[ oh, yes, yes. shower her in kisses and gratitude! she feels a wave of pleasure and giddiness, that sheer joy in his voice (still his own; the disguise is primarily visual, after all). one hand drifts up to cup beneath the soft curls at Ms Adler's nape. the other takes a warm palmful of cheek. ]
[ a wide smile in return. warm breath exchanged between them. he is already more than partway there, bare skin beneath her kneading palm, and she's giddy with the pleasure of his closeness. even if neither of them were to undress, that feeling would still be there: the one which says I love you. I love you. I love you. ]
May I see your body?
[ it is so rare of her to ask... but Ms Adler brings this out in her time and again. ]
[That feeling is always there, warm and blossoming. Sholmes is so, so glad that she's come to visit, and that he can revel in such keen affection that rises to the forefront when she's close. It would be nigh overwhelming if he weren't such a self-indulgent individual.
He immediately sits up, his fingers deftly undoing the buttons of his shirt. Only a handful needs to be taken care of; he never fully finished buttoning.]
Curious about Ms Adler, I see.
[Unsurprising. Flattering, even. Of course he'll humor her.
His shirt falls open, simultaneously revealing and still obscuring parts of Ms Adler's chest. Clear, pale skin, and the material draping partway over the curves of her supple, moderately-sized breasts. Pert, pink nipples. A long torso that's a result of Sholmes' own height, since he doesn't care to "make" her any shorter, even if she happens to tower over most ladies of the Victorian era.]
[Her touch makes his heart flutter, makes a tingle run down his spine. Such reactions are easy to blame on the time and distance spent apart, but Sholmes knows better. She'd be able to earn it from him regardless.
His shoulders and chest gently shake with a barely held-in laugh.]
I see. Well, promise to think of me fondly, my love, while she keeps you warm in bed.
Herlock... [ thumbs brushing up, brushing down. supple skin. a woman's skin. even if she can halfway see beneath the disguise. ] Ms Adler. Please ravish me.
[With a roll of his shoulders, Sholmes allows the shirt to slip down, revealing his entire nakedness as she touches him. He shrugs it off completely, then a gentle request-]
[ beautiful. she's reluctant to pull her hands away to push herself up, and does so only one-handed, the other still cupping to the curve of one hip. the shirt slithers to the floor, along with a few more newspaper pages. ]
[Lucky for her, she can still touch him as much as she likes, because Sholmes only needs access to her back - and he chooses to take advantage of the new space by leaning in, so close that his chest presses against hers, reaching around with both hands to undo the lacing down the back of her garments.]
Let’s get you out of these for now. My home is yours, and thus you are obligated to be as comfortable as you please.
[In this case, in Sholmes’ room: probably naked.]
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