#moralaesthetic

"One night he lost even more heavily than usual." —— JOHNATHAN SMALL, The Sign of Four

                         he would stumble into the streets, the strings keeping his limbs up and stiff cut loose for the night.

                                                                      he was too late.                                                                       too --- slow.            he hadn't been able to save kratides.

                                          the walls support him and he slides onto the ground, eyes colder than steel and emptier than his chest.

     " -- Basil."

     He pauses, and for the barest moment he is not entirely certain what to say. He is aware, of course, that he was supposed to have had dinner with the painter the previous evening, and more aware still that he had, quite without notice, abandoned these plans in favor of going to the club with Lord Henry.

     Sometimes he cannot help himself; Lord Henry says the most wonderful things and is endlessly intriguing. Basil often says nothing at all, and when he does speak, it is nothing that particularly lingers on the mind.

     He chooses not to mention the skipped dinner, and instead he offers up the most amiable of smiles, brilliant and beautiful.

ooc. do i need to slap u

-whispers- drunk thread

{ because that is just perfectly normal }