Sugar & Smoke Rings

Whispers had carried that a presence was needed in Yorkshire. A presiding judgment to assist with a falsified trial and allow budding students to practice. Show off what all they’d learned in the arts of making, presenting, and perhaps more importantly breaking cases of their opposition. All in hopes to earn the favor of an overseeing ear, words and evidence aiding in bending a mind toward favored sentencing. It wasn’t exactly a duty Mithras was eager to accept but with the evacuation of the college, the dismissal of so many of their staff… they were no doubt short handed. Running it all through his mind brought an exasperated sigh to flee his lips. Schedule could be adjusted. There was still time to make it there before anything began, however, it was hardly a journey he wished to make alone in times of war. So it is upon another’s doorstep he tread with a simple askance upon his lips. A silent plea for a sense of company on the road head, guidance over the winding paths to a neighboring town; yet that was never something he would admit. Nothing more than promises lacing his breath, ensuring a venture would be worth while. If not, all would be made up to him. There was a nice place to relax up that way. And by some fortune the man accepted such vague propositions. No sense of clarity sought even if it weighed upon the mind and by the very way lyrics had filled the air - Mithras held no doubt that something did sit heavily in Augustine’s thoughts. But whatever it may be remained a mystery for just as his friend’s tongue had stilled, so too would judgment. He would not be pressed. Not yet. Luckily a trip was uneventful. No ambushes. No assault by feral beasts. Nothing to bring steps to falter or stall, however, it seemed others were not so fortunate. Ears preening back with an indignant scoff as another’s voice filled the air. Refusing to relinquish details other than something had come up with a few attending souls. The proceedings were to be delayed they said, earning a sharp click of the judge’s tongue. What a waste of time. Envenomed gaze flickered, boring into his companion’s visage as a sharpness plagued his tone, “Let’s go. I will not waste my breath here.” Turning from the scene he did not bother glancing back at those beckoning phrases. While he intended to remain in the area it would not be in the presence of incompetent fools. One of their own could fetch him when they finally decided all was ready. For now he supposed there was no better time to make good on a promise made. The swish of a tail guiding one who could easily play the role of guard. That towering frame unable to be ignored whenever a voice rolled like thunder from a behemoth’s lips, coaxing a crown to shift with each dripping tone. He would listen but could promise no answers even after steps teetered upon the threshold of natural springs. An establishment that could grant privacy, cater to indulgences - a reprieve so often sought whenever agitation seeped into flesh and dared to curl against fraying nerves. And despite knowing of a companion’s inclinations, an offer was made. Hallowed sights seeking out the man’s own to ensure a point was made, “It is my treat.” Lest he went overboard… then the mottled man could pay for his own damn drinks. “Wallow alone or join me, I care not what you do. All I ask is you make up your mind before we enter. I will not have you stumbling to my pool like some drunken fool later in the evening Augustine.” No he would rather pay to be alone and ship Augustine to the public baths if he did not wish for shared seclusion.

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your veins are full of ice-water

He was no stranger to Yorkshire: a second home, his younger years spent under the shade of mighty Oaks with comrades, stumbling to the barracks late at night after a night out on the town. He resided here once under the heavy hand that was the Imperial Army. A soldier, well on his way to top, no matter the errors in his trials and tribulations. Though, an ambush would leave him with only one path through the army: an honorable discharge, his broken leg something not even the best medics and doctors around could return to its prime. Perhaps that was what cast a line into the abyss that was his mind and thoughts, the one thing that would snag the line and surface the thoughts he worked so hard to cover and bury deep. As of late, his mind was aching, and even the alcohol could not numb the feeling, or lack thereof, and his desires to write himself back in the history books of the Imperial Army. It was due to those thoughts alone that the coastal man would leave the comfort of his Manor and Wife for a small trip to Yorkshire. The Judge was a friend, an ally- and, well, a Judge. A man of Law, and he had yet to steer Augustine wrong, even if his words were harsh and not what he wanted to hear. Though in this moment, the man only heard the sweetest of honey drip from Mithras' lips. The Judge's own initial intentions seemed to dissipate by the time they arrived, and instead were redirected to a few hours of seclusion and respite. "...My treat" the man offered Augustine- who was all too eager to indulge already, a swift paw snagging the drinks being served to others as they passed by the duo. He was nearly silent, and ever quick as he began to warm his tongue and throat with the raw heat the "test samples" offered. You spoil me, Mithras. I am grateful, as always." he reassured the man and his kindness. A deep rumble would reverberate up from his chest, a laugh decorating his lyrics. The only stumbling I'll be doing is to wherever our beds may be at the end of this all. " He would then distract himself with his own descent into the hot spring waiting for the two of them. A deep hum would thrum up his throat as he practically melted into the warmth, tempted to let it devour him. I would be lying if I said I was upset that your time had been wasted with the most recent endeavor. " he would hide his orbs, draw his lips in a tight line as he drew in a breath and sunk deeper into warm waters. A few moments woild pass before limbs would unfold and heavy him above the waters surface, settling himself I'm along the edge where he could rest his body under the water, and his head above. Their service would make their very first rounds, and Augustine took no time in requesting a drink, all while accepting one of the few they already had out on a stone platter, waiting to be devoured. typentype "

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Insistence grated upon the mind, phrases playing on repeat from one who had bid the judge to check in with them later. Proclamations upon their tongue that within a few days time the proceedings were sure to continue. What a joke. It was a lesson. Do it without those able to attend, it would teach their prospecting clients not to place their trust in such foolishness any longer. Rob them their words of defense or perhaps even declare the accused as a no show, charge them with failure to appear in court and declare their sentence for arrest. To he it would all be a rather valuable lesson to learn for lest one had died there was no reason for delay. Any soul pulled away for war could easily be replaced by another of their prospecting students, give them the details of a falsified case. The longer he dwelt on it the greater his bitterness on the subject rose yet this would do neither he nor his companion any good. He needed to let it all go. Either agree to waste time in Sussex until they were in need or return to duties held elsewhere. It was not a choice he needed to make this instant and yet Mithras already knew the direction a mind teetered. Yet another’s voice broke him from this internal fixation and already he could hear the click of talons grappling for passing drinks. The reverberation of sound nearly bringing a lip to curl. He was going to regret such an offerance but the draconian would cling to assuredness, if this man drowned himself upon the judge’s coin it would not be he who paid for the upset. All would fall from Augustine’s own purse. But he’d come here to relax not build up further tensions in the presence of an overgrown mutt. So when lyrics fell in steady rumble from deep in the man’s chest, a huff fled Mithras’ own lungs. Sightless gaze regarding the titan in a sharp glare despite the tease decorating his tone as diminutive frame pressed past with an annoyed flick of the tail. “Who said I’m getting you a bed at all? I think you’d do far better sleeping it off on the floor,” he however deserved the royal treatment. A plush throw to rest against, the comforting embrace of silken fabrics stuffed full of feathering stripped from a bird’s hide. Accommodations reminiscent of home though all that would come in due time for now it was the steam and soothing heat of the waters which called his name. Their siren’s lure one unable to be ignored. Careful step guiding him far more gracefully into the pool than his companion. Muscles flinching from that first enveloping caress and yet in time that piercing sensation faded, leaving nothing but a heated embrace to permeate flesh and bid nerves to quiet. There lingered a silent temptation to allow eyes to close as if he were truly alone. Just forget for a time and fall victim to tranquility and yet each shift of the water’s surface gave way to another’s presence. Foretold that peace would not be so easily found when each breath brought an ear to turn, the drip drip of sodden fur risen above the waters twisting his expression. All of it echoing within his cerebrum, rattling around alongside a voice calling for more drinks. There would be no peace with this one. So he may as well stop trying. Without much more thought eyes flashed open, a figure turning to better face the other man as hollow stare glued upon Augustine from each noise made. A light snarl daring to plague his retort, “You may not find upset with it but I do. They will learn not to waste my time.” For their requests for an overseer would no longer be heeded if this was the response given. Nothing more than uncertainty plaguing a director’s tongue, it was nonsense. “Just as you have,” the sharpness of his lyrics never spared and it would not stop now as whatever manner of drink the mottled giant had ordered lay snatched within his own grasps. Features recoiling at the vile taste flowing over his tongue though in the same instance there came refusal to return it to the man perched before him, “You have horrid taste in drink Augustine.” Either that or the wait staff had mixed it wrong though he was set on believing it was a choice of his friend. A dreadful decision and without missing a beat his own request beckoned their ear, one for something more refined. Tasteful but still holding the ability to muddle the senses should he wish to indulge.

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your veins are full of ice-water

A numbing mind would soon slip away from the grasp of the present, his head would allow enough to move, drink, and breathe. So when Mithras made the remark about where Augustine's head would fall tonight, he would only let a mindless chuckle press past his lips. Too easily did he melt away in the warmth that clung to his body; every ache that he may have had in his bones and muscles would be washed away, and every ache in his mind and chest would be soothed and tucked away from the bitter liquid he grappled for when he arrived. His most recent grab would be for nothing, the small man with him would have snagged his drink already, leaving Augustine to let a short "hmph" out as he watched his drink fall to Mithras' lips after he finished speaking. He would extend a paw out towards him, a small frown twisting his muzzle for all but second, soon turning right side up as a laugh reverberated up his chest from the distaste that was clear coming from his friend. "The worse it tastes, the easier it is to get it down the hatch. " He would slowly inch himself closer, expecting to get his own drink back, but it would seem Mithras was set on making a point of Augustine's "horrid " taste in his choice of liquid indulgence. Subtly, brows would furrow as mismatched hues followed the waitstaff that took the new drink request. His limbs would pivot to drift towards the ledge of the pool, chin resting on the ledge as he waited for their return. Already growing bored, the man turned back to face Mithras with a short huff as he sunk back into the water. "If only every day could be concluded with a few drinks and a soak. " Limbs propelled him backwards as he searched for the spot he started in, claws finding rock beneath them as he settled further into the water. Before he made himself too comfy, however, harks would swivel towards the service returning and he would swiftly swipe a glass that wasn't intended for Mithras, hues watching as his companion for the evening was given his own drink. As he sunk back into the warmth with his drink, he would search for words now, not quite having any loaded on the tip of his tongue. He wanted to let the silence settle in, leave him to his own thoughts as he drowned out whatever he wanted to as he did, but lately that only made matters worse. And so, until the liquor silenced him or made him sound like a fool, he'd keep the silence away with deep baritones that rolled across the water between them. Imagine such a luxury being stripped away from us, hm. " he would take a moment to glance around them. War was still raging, though a final push was whispered to be in the works, perhaps one to keep the Jacobites from touching all that he-and many others- had built over the years, from infiltrating the lands he called home, where the Scowcroft's made their family name. typentype "

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It would be all too easy to become lost in the enveloping heat of the springs, however, the persistent shifting of his oversized companion made relaxation nigh impossible. Each ripple a distraction as it brought gently lapping waves to caress skin. The rumbled laughter of a man who hardly listened only further threatening to sour his mood as it coaxed an ear to turn. Even as that sightless gaze refused to follow, to chase after each crafted tone, it was enough of a sign that he held the starry judge’s attention. An act made ever clearer when a disgruntled hmph coaxed forth a huff of his own to combat the phrases which fought to contradict opinion. Oh how poorly it was defended, nothing said could pick up for the perceived short comings of Augustine’s drink of choice. A beverage scented to lace his breath far more frequently than he may care to admit. Even now as that hide drifted nearer one could smell the way it clung to his very coat - sign alone that one may have fallen to the wayside. The soothing perfumes of vanilla, the familiarity of sea salt, each all but drowned out beneath the tang of bourbon; yet he would not call direct attention to it. Instead clinging to other matters, of banter, for there was certainty that was not how taste worked. Something poor in flavor may only incline one to spit it out rather than greedily suck it down without restraint, “So that it does not linger and plague your tongue is more like it.” A tongue clicked in clear disapproval as nails idly traced the rim of a stolen glass even without that growing proximity he knew what was wanted, but Mithras held no intention of handing it over until he was good and ready to. So, for a time, the man was ignored. Focus holding upon the retreating step of the wait staff after demands had been given. They would not mess this order up if they knew what was good for them yet a subtle frown still tugged at the corner of his lips. No matter how one wished to hold on to this, keep it from his friend’s reach, what the starlight man craved more was not mistaking it for his own whenever a far smoother beverage graced his presence. The taste of fruits and wine a far different elixir than the harshened bite of whiskey and bourbon. While at times he would not turn down the punch of stronger substance, in these moments, he wished for something lighter; smoother and with a steadied breath a glass was slide back in the behemoth’s direction, “But it will be only yours its taste clings to tonight.” For he held no further plans of sampling anything else Augustine ordered even if insistence to give it a try dripped from the other’s lips. Why try something he knew would not be enjoyed in the moment? But as if right on cue the careful clatter of balanced drink ware resounding in his ears. The slow clink bidding a crown to turn though his reaction time was apparently far slower than the mottled man - or rather, one lacked patience and instead to be as rude as possible in how swiftly he’d snatched hold of a glass long before Mithras had even reached for it. Before he could even think to allow the delicate brush of digits to test the shape of containment. Another click of the tongue toward Augustine’s lack of tact though even as the judge seized hold of a more fragrant drink he cannot help but to tease, “Do you truly need a drink every evening?” Sure it could be a way to unwind, however, a part of him could not believe that this one nursed a single glass for long. Not with how eagerly he had jumped at the opportunity to indulge. Silently the draconian regarded him as wine gently flowed, filling his mouth in an elixir more desirable. Relishing in the taste before a frame sunk deeper into that embracing heat, eyes half closed as lidded gaze hung upon foolish phrase. Laughter nothing more than a passing breath as he waved off the possibility, “What a ridiculous thing to imagine this will never be stolen away.” Those beasts would have to pry his beautiful corpse from the lap of luxury, pluck away each thread tangled upon cold dead fingers before he would willingly give it up. But none of that would ever happen. If the wild ones ever made it this far surely more would rise to action in hopes of driving out those invading forces. There was nothing to worry about in that regard - the army, those who had trained their whole lives for this, had everything under control.

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your veins are full of ice-water

Augustine was lucky enough to still have his own vision- especially now, where he could see annoyance radiating from himself, and washing over Mithras with each little wave that rippled between the two. Bitterness still coated his lips, a slick ribbon wiping it away as he turned to drift back toward the ledge that the service would check in at occasionally. For now, the man only observed, watched them as drinks and appetizers were delivered to the parties around them. Once more he heard Mithras's words, still stuck on his taste. He wasn't the first to criticize his choice, and he wouldn't be the last but the humor he found in said criticism would dim just as fast as it originated. He would spin around, just in time to leave a paw to catch the drink that was finally returned to him. A tight frown would make an appearance on his face as he swirled the now warm liquid around the glass. Said line on his face would disappear as lips parted to finish what was in the glass. “Do you truly need a drink every evening?” his only answer would be the sound of glass meeting rock as he set his now empty glass further back on the ledge. A soft Hum that reverberated up from his chest and lingered within his muzzle would follow afterwards, his lungs slowly expelling whatever breath he had. He let himself become seemingly weightless, slowly sinking into the water until his snout became engulfed, and then his eyes, followed by his ears. Small bubbles would float from his nostrils as he let the warmth consume him, wrap him up and alleviate even the weight that he held in his mind. Soon after there was a tight grip that would clench a hold around his throat, it's touch sending a burning sensation down to his chest as harks began to ring and remind him that he couldn't stay submerged much longer. Limbs would kick just enough to let him resurface slowly. He wasn't under longer than a minute, and so when he was back above the water, he would continue what Mithras began with a simple disregard. A little Imperial bird at a bar was burying a loss with piles of fermented berries- efforts and morale were slashed by the heathens to the north of us. It isn't ridiculous to imagine." a half cynical chortle rolled from a slippery tongue, his own teeth not daring to force his ribbon back into its hole. Slowly, a forelimb would reach to the side, where a paw would curl his next beverage towards him. More capable jaws and paws need to be on the ground, what a difference it would make if there weren't civilians picked up from streets and strapped with armor and told to just.. fight." he would shake his head, watching the liquor in his cup move as he now did. Mass drifted the same side that Mithras was content with. Slowly, Augustine would rest against the layered rock that formed part of the hot springs barrier. Once more, he glanced down to the drink In his possession, a smirk plastering a not so sober face. They could call on those who were once in the ranks, atleast they'd be of some use. " He could be of some use Where he felt useless and pathetic back home in his office, he believed he would find what purpose felt like once more if he were to offer himself as a spare body in the war efforts. And even if they did lose- if he were captured or killed, he would do so easily, knowing that he would no longer have to return to the same four walls, with the same faces day in and day out. The only drop of concern he had left was for his wife, leaving her with no certainties of his return would surely leave an unevenness in his stomach and chest. His drink lasted not much longer than the last, a quick click of his tongue would capture the bitterness between the roof of his mouth and back of his throat. A brow raised as he waved another staff member over, and his face would fall to Mithras, a soft chuckle to mark his small "aha" moment: I could join them, in battle. " he half-heartedly only said it to see his friends face twist and contort in disapproval, but the other half of him meant it- convinced that even next-morning-sober him would still have the same idea. typentype "

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There came no answer, no verbal retort to a query. All the draconic could do was listen as the resonance of glass sang against stone. Signaling a companions refusal to speak, unwilling to give way to the answers craved, such a thing hardly prying within his mind. It was merely a question of consumption and if he did not hear from Augustine now it would only be asked again. Though before jaws can part - to ensure he had been heard - senses fail when turning to regard the man or rather where he had been moments ago. His descent betrayed by the unsteady roll of lapping ripples as if the other believed hiding away like a pup would prevent a scolding. It only brought lilac eyes to roll when the steady pop of air broke the surface. The star flecked held half a mind to arch his leg up and kick Augustine in the face, the chest, anywhere that could be reached in silent bid for that over sized mutt to stop his foolishness. Already a luck was being pressed for one had thrown back far more drinks than he, the little judge only just beginning to feel the quiet hum within his veins as alcohol worked in tandem with the heated springs in a ploy for relaxation. If only his company would not be so… himself. However, before one can act upon building desire to lash out the coast titan surfaces with a gasp. Sound which both startled and stirred further annoyance though Mithras was swiftly silenced before envenomed phrases could drip freely from his tongue. Lyrics unable to interject, snap out in demand for an askance without once more being ignored as he was met with a stream of nonsense spilling from another’s lips. And the longer he prattled on, the more noticeable a tilt the draconian’s ears carried as they steadily pinned to his skull. The army had trained soldiers. They held no need to pluck up every straggling imbecile from the streets and throw them into the front lines - lest of course they sought out the weak to be used as distraction, as meat shields. Beasts to cull and be rid of dead weight under the name of serving the king. Even should it be so, such a decree would hardly come to light. Nothing more than a musing which drifted in the growing fog of his mind though not so lost was he to become delusional. Not like Augustine. A man of spinning fantasy over what others may need, of just whose presence may be required. Surely those banished from their ranks under the title of honorable discharge were hardly on the army’s calling list. Creatures such as they were of no more use. “No,” denial a breathless whisper as if it were hard to believe what idiocy this man concocted. Ideas forming of just where this might be heading, only to find confirmation when all lay revealed - the curtain pulled back to illuminate the workings of a drunkard’s mind. Slurred lyrics morphing, drifting closer alongside the sodden hide that shifted far too near for comfort in the ways one perched upon the rocky ledge Mithras himself leaned to. Yet, in these moments, the serpent neither strikes nor immediately pulls back from the man’s presence no matter how he may wish to. The mottled man had been quick to retreat before - even without the retrieval of a stolen drink - now should be no different, there was nothing to gain with proximity but risk of a viper’s ire. If one chose to linger he would be issued the usual scowl before Mithras himself moved in a huff, however, all thoughts of pushing from the incline lay halted upon that final utterance. Eyes instead narrowing as he glared in the direction of the mixed stench of whiskey bourbon, “Don’t be stupid Augustine.” The drink had him talking nonsense, it played with the mind, “You were dismissed from their ranks for a reason. They saw you as no longer useful. A burden." Ill fit for battle they’d declared. Shattered limb a hinderance upon the body, an inconveince when it came to performing the duties assigned. One that a call to action would only aggravate and worsen as strain lay upon poorly mended bone. “To call upon you now would contradict their claims and to seek out the injured for war would be signing them to death," ‘Sentencing you to it,’ and he for one did not wish to see his friend buried. Just thinking on it brought him to grimace though an opportunity of quiet was seized hold of in means of redirection, “Though don’t even begin to think that talking of this idiotic plan of yours will make me forget you are evading my question!” Gesture made toward the man with drink still in paw nearly thumping to Augustine’s shoulder with how close the other man ventured before a glass would pull back, finding his lips to chase the air which huffed free mere moments before mulled berries silenced that lashing tongue.

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your veins are full of ice-water

Mithras's words would not fall on deaf or drunken ears this time, the coastal behemoth paid close attention to the lyrics that stung at his own chords that hung in the steam between them. Don't be stupid, Augustine" and then he was stabbed with the reminder of his worth and how it was so easily cut short, the first blow to his own being that he could remember- and fought to forget and yet it would be more than just his wife to ring that same bell loud enough for Augustine to notice. If there were a drink in his proximity, he'd have used it to drown own the harsh reminder that fell from his friend's lips. But it was always in the back of his mind, something that needed only a gentle tug to make it resurface. He remembered the cold words that fell from his father's lips, deeming him useless to not only the army but the family, only able to redeem himself once the limb was healed and he sought out a new career path. What a bitter place to be in his head-luckily a drunken mind would stumble around thoughts aimlessly, only coming to a hault when he heard the word death fall from Mithras' lips. Brows would furrow as the man sunk further into the water, lips parting as a liquored tongue twisted to speak and mismatched spectacles so desperately searched for his next drink to land. With his mind slowed, he was left no choice but to take heed in the words the man across from him spoke . That is, until the same subject was brought up once more. Ever persistent this man was. A short chuckle met his words, a new refreshment being offered but the man only grabbed it to set it down between the two of them. Not every night, I try not to make a habit out of it all "- a lie.It's more of a.. special occasion type of indulgence, " another lie was spit before making this moment an exception in his mind. A moment to unwind with a friend? That's most special, indeed. " Hence: the man taking only a small sip from his refilled glass. typentype "

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One could not help but to scowl when little else rose from his mottled companion. The man merely taking each harshened truth in silence yet there lay no doubt each echoed within a cerebrum hollowed by imbibement. With how one relished in the very drink cradled so near - Mithras knew he spoke true. There were no denying the facts lain out before each of them. A habit of drinking, how partaking in a war when not at one’s best could only lead to greater tragedy. If not proving to be a burden upon those who stood in their prime… yet Augustine offered nothing in return. Silence all which crept over their pool as attentions refused to stray, at least until the carefully balanced clattering of proffered indulgence graced them anew. A fresh glass to each. His own waved off in annoyance even as the attendant placed it along the spring’s edge with a gentle hint it lay in place should a mind change. With the way this was going he may have use of it yet. Drown out the nonsense which droned on in another’s feigned stupidity, each phrase spouted nonsense. If nothing else a drink could be thrown in Augustine’s face should he truly upset the little draconian. A line this particular man had yet to cross even if he’d teetered so dangerously close upon its precipice from time to time with this same act. How he pretended not to have heard a rather pointed query, a subject repeated, a telling motion that this had not been forgotten. Not by a long shot. A reminder triggering all one craved but in the same breath was hardly what he wished to hear. Reaction threatening to paint a sneer across his visage as that passing chuckle plagued his ears, lingering upon the air in hopes to dampen accusation of evasion. Only to leave lilac sights to narrow in suspicion, disbelief, even as that resounding clink of a glass settled alongside him. If this were no habit than why did it lace the very fur he wore? Tint his breath whenever one drew far too near for comfort? That was not signs of an occasional indulgence and yet in the moment reason is not pressed. Nothing but a mere assumption, a stab in the dark for the judge could hold no certainty on such conviction without more concreate evidence. Without that it mattered not how it all lingered at the forefront of his mind as truth. Clinging to such certainty only encourages phrases to pass freely from his lips and drip like honey from a loosened tongue. Imploring one to tell the truth. “Do not lie to me Augustine. Indulgence I can believe,” though hardly one so infrequent as he proclaimed, “One sampled only on occasion? I think not.” Mithras’ sightless gaze did not stray from the mottled man then, lingering upon the spaces he believed he occupied upon each rising sound. “This instance is more than special, time with a friend is not something I would readily trade away. Lest that friend makes a habit of lying.” Then he may have to reconsider for weaving tongues were oh so hard to trust. Even as his own so eagerly did the same.

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your veins are full of ice-water

He tried not to focus too much on the man's visious glare, it was beginning to feel like daggers creeping closer to his face, just moments away from striking. What Mithras spoke was usually true and hard to hear for those that didn't wish to hear such truths. Augustine knew he was no exception, and even in his intoxicated state, he knew he could easily drown in every word he tossed at Mithras if he didnt take caution. Perhaps he was lying to himself, lying to everyone else. Few took moments to pinpoint the signs that were clearly constricting the man, suffocating his older self to provide habitat for his newer self as of late. It was just easier to pour himself a glass or two or three, and let the alcohol creep into his blood, heart and mind. It rendered him useless in navigating the complications thrown his way; letting the bourbon take the reigns has, unbeknownst to him, only shielded him from the important aspects of his life rather than providing solutions. But, drunk as he may be, pride will forever be the one thing to come out on top- and Augustine made up his mind before this that he was in control, no matter how hard he had to convince himself. "My habit of Indulgence has not hindered my ability to speak the truth, and it certianly won't curate a habit to speak with the tongue of a serpent" " the biggest lie he was telling himself and his friend. He would shift in the water slowly, a soft huff escaping from his lips as he let his body drift backwards, into the side of the pool. He almost took his leave, to retire to the closest bed or floor he could find and flee from fhe glare of the Judge, and the dagger like words the man so easily cast through the air between the two of them. But that felt like defeat in itself, so he'd linger here a moment or two longer, not hesitating to reach for his glass once more and give a little more appreciation to this drink in particular. "talktalk "

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