the wine of friendship

Adam laughed, glad that they had a healthy dislike of the Launceleyn in common. One of the best ways to make close friends was joint spite, after all. "I uh...yeah, maybe. I dunno. I've always had this...thing." He squinted into the fire, having to look away to admit this; he'd always found it embarrassing. "I look at stuff when it's been written down and it ...jumps about. The letters all swap places and don't stay the same and I have to really focus to try get them to stay still. S'always been like that. I dunno why...maybe I'm just not that smart." He laughed, but it was hollow. "I meant questions about the whoring. Y'know, favourite positions of clients and stuff. That's usually what people wanna know." But while he wouldn't tell about his scars, he could talk easily enough about the 'new work'. "I got a horse and started going up and down the roads looking for carriages. All you really needed was a couple guns...not that I ever actually used them...and some charisma. Mostly you could just chat the money outta rich dicks." He shrugged, having become relaxed enough to fully admit to his crimes. "I never took anything from anyone that looked desperate." A D A M Do you wanna dance? Do you wanna fight? Do you wanna get drunk and stay the night?