Alfonse sat in solitude in his [url=http://www.hometodecor.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/Study-Room-Traditional-Style.jpg]study[/url]. The room was incredibly elegant in its design. Being a true believer in the second amendment and an avid gun collector, Alfonse had a glass-cased gun display, which displayed a [url=http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/3/34/1847Colt_Walker.jpg]Colt Walker Model 1847[/url], a [url=http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/5f/Webley_MkI_P0.jpg]Webley MK I[/url], a [url=http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/5a/Carcano_mod._1891.jpg]Carcano 1891[/url], and [url=http://www.cherrys.com/pedpics/L247b.jpg]10 gauge black powder Coach Gun[/url]. He sat in his chair in a rather worrisome mood; he couldn't stop fidgeting. It wasn't out of boredom; it was out of the anxiousness that the Moriarti family is losing it's vise-like grip on New York City. Alfonse needed to get his mind off of things, and one way he could do that was in this room. He walked up to the glass case and opened it up. Lest he dirty the guns by touching them, he had a pair of white cotton gloves and a cotton rag for just such an occasion (as there were many of them). He had decided upon pulling out the Coach Gun, as he was a admirer of shotguns and their devastating power. He then sat back in his supple leather chair. He managed to notice that, due to disuse, the gun had developed a fine, yet noticeable layer of dust. The issue needed addressing and, with that, he began delicately and gingerly clean the shotgun. You would think that a man as violent as Alfonse couldn't has the patience nor passion to care about a hobby; you couldn't have been more wrong.

After a modest amount of time in silence, there was a knock at his study door. He wasn't expecting visitors, but considering he hadn't heard gunshots, screaming or explosions, nothing bad must've been happening... he hoped. "It's open; let yourself in", he said, rather curtly.