#devilsmood

@devilsmood

“Honestly, a scavenger hunt?” He murmured to his brother, rolling his eyes. He was smiling though, clearly at least a little amused by the activity, though unwilling to admit it. “Mine says a quartzite carved lion cub, what about yours?” Leaning over, he peaked down at Nik’s invitation and made a little hmph in response. “Yours sounds far more interesting than mine, why do you get the goddess? I bet Effingham did that on purpose.”

He smacked the invitation against his hand, searching the room for some wine. Spotting a table, he made his way over and picked up a glass. “I suppose if we’re going to do it. . . We may as well start here.” Taking a sip, he tucked the invitation under his arm and opened the drawers of the table, checking to see if there was anything of note hidden inside.

Perhaps the slightest bit caught off-guard by the events of Margate, Alexandre thought that he deserved a special treat for himself, which was an opinion he held frequently. Despite what some people may think, Alexandre frequently understood how he felt, but processing it was a different matter entirely and in the event that things became complicated or unpleasant, he understood that taking a step away was likely the best course of action.

Life was generally a sort of game to Alex, a play where people acted out their parts and if you knew the script, you could move between them and watch them all dance in whatever way amused you most. He was an observer, not one of the puppets whose strings were meant to be pulled, and there were certain things he enjoying doing that helped reclaim that equilibrium.

People watching while eating ices at Gunther's was always nice, but as he was currently sulking over being turned away from Gunther's, that wasn't an option. Curling up in the large window with a sketchbook was a secret pleasure, but there was the risk of his family trying to lure him out and Alexandre didn't feel ready for that, either.

And so, Somerset house, which wouldn't be the first place to look for him, but was a location that he loved regardless. It was soothing in its own right as Alexandre wandered from painting to painting, admiring light and brush strokes.

"That's only recently been put up on display." Alexandre offered to a man observing the same piece of artwork that he was, offering up a crooked grin to the stranger. "Do you like it?" // @devilsmood​

Ernest was in one of his moods, the one where he couldn’t be talked into sitting still for even a moment. He was pacing, bringing his pipe to and from his lips, breathing in that rotten tobacco in between every rambling word. What he was rambling about was unknown, it was the sort of scattered nonsense he sometimes spewed when he was especially bored and had nothing else to say. Literally, it was nonsense, a sort of game he would play with himself and his brother where he’d try to make words string together into something so nonsensical that it was entirely meaningless. It was good for a laugh from time to time but mostly he used it to fill the silence when he had nothing more interesting to say.

“So anyway, then I put the drawing room above the air and–” he stopped, turning his gaze onto his brother, no longer pacing. He was never good at being deadpan so a smirk quickly showed itself. “You’re terribly rude, are you even listening? This is all quite important, I assure you.”