( ...ah. A gambler. Yes, he knows that trick. It's always the weak, the desperate, the clinically insane or the perverse who favour it. Addicts of dice, cards, games of some other chance.
And all he's got, right now.
So be it. He unpeels his coat as if it were thin onion layers, with express care not to unstitch or upset it — as if, perhaps, he knows the pain of having owned nothing, once, and affording reverence to everything, now.
First, his pockets: a little coin, cogs, a kernel of unmoulded iron, a candle's wick, three fish scales.
Then, from the inside pocket: two parchment pieces, clearly perfumed, bearing the names and addresses of Ephes' affluent feminine rich. And a ring he offers out, burdened by a small, pleasantly pinked pearl. )
She thought I looked pathetic enough to need it more. ( He... really shouldn't look so calm and indifferent, sasying that. )
no subject
And all he's got, right now.
So be it. He unpeels his coat as if it were thin onion layers, with express care not to unstitch or upset it — as if, perhaps, he knows the pain of having owned nothing, once, and affording reverence to everything, now.
First, his pockets: a little coin, cogs, a kernel of unmoulded iron, a candle's wick, three fish scales.
Then, from the inside pocket: two parchment pieces, clearly perfumed, bearing the names and addresses of Ephes' affluent feminine rich. And a ring he offers out, burdened by a small, pleasantly pinked pearl. )
She thought I looked pathetic enough to need it more. ( He... really shouldn't look so calm and indifferent, sasying that. )