Mycroft would be pleased to know that he looked so stereotypical that he actually played against type. It meant the entire outfit was doing what it was meant to do, which was be a distraction, a shield, of his actions.
Jolly good, he would say, and with only a hint of an ironic smile.
"Not ... precisely. There are others here, but we all congregate around certain buildings in this ghost town, as you call it."
Blue eyes sharpened. "Not self-inflicted, young man, but purposeful. We have all been marked, similarly. To what purpose, I do not know."