ʜᴏᴍᴇʟᴇss.

[feigns]

I'd be flattered, mundane, if I weren't entirely aware that a change of locations didn't mean a change of interests. Your concept of fun and my own will not, nor shall they ever, align — for reasons I'm yet to understand, I admit — and I've no interest in indulging in futility when it reaps no rewards for me.

—You're aware, though, that in this time of giving and goodwill, you ought to be sprawled on a settee, mumbling incoherent nonsense at anyone who dares to approach, aren't you? I'm wholly disappointed in the extent of your sobriety.

Comments

[feigns]

I'd give you a hint, but I imagine it'll be more entertaining for you to try and work out when I'm serious and when I'm not.

[tempering]

Entertaining for you, you mean.

But fine. I'll accept the challenge.

[feigns]

Naturally.

In that case, oughtn't we make a bet of sorts? Or are you not that sort of lady? I admit, I know little of what circus men and women get up to, and what they consider acceptable.

[tempering]

We are human, Mister Herondale; we've morals just as everyone else does. The majority of us don't entertain ourselves with constant debauchery. [a pause. oh wait, chandresh's parties. oh well.]

Provided it simply remains between the two of us, I see no problem.

[feigns]

[ a flicker of amusement, and his lips quirk at that. ] And there we are with that everyone again. I admit to wondering how much of the public the proverbial everyone tends to apply to. Or perhaps I was correct, perhaps I am merely wholly unique. A lack of morals and a fondness for debauchery of all sorts are two of my most prominent traits. [ no comment on humanity. ]

Who do you think I would tell?

[tempering]

I believe I actually do mean everyone, this time. I refuse to believe that there is not one ounce of goodness or respectability in you. [naive and oblivious times? sure why not.]

I'm not sure. You've only just said you've a lack of morals; would it be surprising then if you informed everyone you were in acquaintance with?

[feigns]

I'm good at doing many things, Miss Martin, but whether that leads to goodness, I wouldn't know. I recently met a man and, due to the fact that my reputation tends to precede me, announced that he was fully aware of my parentage and that from what he had heard, I had inherited the worst traits of both. I wonder, then, if there's any hope of either goodness or respectability for me. I'm tempted to say not.

—No, but do you have a choice? Oh, yet we trust that somehow good will be the final goal of ill, to pangs of nature, sins of will, defects of doubt, and taints of blood—. Trust, Miss Martin, trust me not at all or all in all.

[tempering]

At times, parentage is of little consequence and has equally little effect on who results. Of course, nothing is definite, but you may surprise yourself yet.

[a pause. let her think that over for a second.]
...Fine. For this, I believe I've no choice but to trust you. [and, again, another pause. oh christ.] Now, perhaps it should be stated exactly what this bet entails.

[feigns]

Contentment has no need for surprise.

[ his lips quirk again at that, a definite smirk playing at his lips. ] Usually I bet for money or drinks, but in this case, I somehow doubt the suitability of either. I believe, though, that I ought to receive something for each time you think me serious when I'm not.

[tempering]

Isn't that the point of a bet? I had assumed money was the typical sort of reward in cases like this. [is this the part where the warning bells need to start going off? she frowns slightly.] Other than that, I doubt I've much to give, apart from my cards. [she'd really rather not have to resort to using her other deck, but it'll do.]

[feigns]

[ a shrug. ] Then money it is. I can always spend it on whatever appeals momentarily; I've always found ignorance a far more preferable state of being to knowing. [ a total lie. ]

[tempering]

And how much need I give to you whenever I make a mistake?

[feigns]

Whatever you believe the indiscretion to be worth. After all, you have morals, do you not?

[tempering]

I should certainly hope, Mister Herondale. [she smiles slightly, amused.] Am I right in assuming that there is no set price, and that I shall decide when - or if - each mistake happens?

[feigns]

That's right, Miss Martin, although with your track record, it's very much a when rather than an if.

[tempering]

I wouldn't be so sure of that, Mister Herondale; perhaps the risk of losing my hard-earned money will help me.

[feigns]

I've never known money to do that to a person, Miss Martin. Make them crueller, certainly, or make them more careless, but never make a person more accurate.

[tempering]

You wouldn't think that potentially losing it would make me scrutinize the situation even more?

[feigns]

[ a shrug. ] It may, but that begs the question of why you consider your life, when free of financial worries and risk, to lack any need for scrutiny. Loss of fortune occurs with or without bets.

happy new year, btw! :D

[tempering]

I could be planning to run away. Attempt to run away, I should say. [she's not, for now, but that's irrelevant.] I'd need it then, wouldn't I?

likewise! i hope it's a good one

[feigns]

And where would you run to?

[tempering]

I'm not entirely sure, to be honest with you. I'm rather fond of France, and I've always thought that we never spend quite enough time in Asia...

[feigns]

I considered running away once, although to nowhere as exotic as Asia, or even France. I imagined traversing the hills of the West Country and swimming in the sea off the south coast. Alas, I'm stuck firmly in the city.

[tempering]

Why? What's stopping you?

[feigns]

That which binds all of us: duty.