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Father, forgive me for i have sinned. It's been a hundred and so years since my last confession...And I come to you because...I have denied a hungry man a shrimp.
❛ straight to hell. yeah. the lower layer, probably. where the murderer's are kept. gonna seatcha righ' next to ronald reagan. ❛
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10. what’s one useless fact your muse definitely knows?
bianca knows a grand slew of useless facts, honestly, having been around for nearly sixty-six years now.
one fact she's learned, through her extensive years of bartending back in the nineties, is the histories of various cocktails. she knows where certain drinks, typically american ones, were created. she knows whom is credited with invented said cocktails, what the original ingredients were, and how to make it properly. ask her to make a variety of cocktails and not only could she do it, but she'd be happy to do so.
what did the gazette call me? \ from @ofcoinflips :)))
he opens the paper with a theatrical snap, makes a show of skimming the pages. ❛ 'half-baked harvey,' ❜ he says, with relish. oswald folds down one edge with his finger to look slyly at @ofcoinflips, the large front-page photograph of mayor real at a press conference wilting slightly. ❛ a bit on the nose, wouldn’t you say? ❜
although it is past noon, he has a breakfast spread out before him, a plate of thinly-sliced sausage and cheese, a couple of half-eaten pastries stuffed with jam. a squat enamel teapot, from which he fills his cup. ❛ i wouldn’t put much stock in it, counselor. the gazette has always been a bit of a rag, if you ask me. ❜
oswald lets the paper droop in favor of taking a bite from one of the pastries, the jam sweet and tart. ❛ but i’d keep a tighter lid on that temper of yours all the same. ❜ amusement shadows the corner of his mouth. ❛ did you really threaten rupert thorne in public? ❜
what is it you're really after? \ from @ofunethics
he’s always detested doctors. psychiatrists are especially distasteful, trying to shuck him like some common oyster. it’s a testament to the quality of lecter’s company that oswald frequently forgets this. how uncouth of hannibal to remind him.
above the rim of his glass, his smile is slightly pinched. ❛ a giant yacht, ❜ he pronounces, flippantly, and chases it with a taste of the wine, crisp and dry as a pear. ❛ and an ocean to sail it on. ❜
oswald’s eyes slide momentarily to the scallops, fresh from their shells, waiting to be seared in butter. the doctor’s kitchen is fastidiously clean, finely polished chrome surfaces that catch the light coldly. a hostile environment, or it would be without the smell of shallots and crushed garlic forming a light veil of warmth. not unlike the man himself, in that regard. oswald leans against the counter, watching @ofunethics preparations. ❛ perhaps i’d even invite you to join me. as long as you promise not to get seasick. ❜
