08-24-2020, 01:26 AM
Warning Jude about the world would have given him reason to prepare for the world; it served the Family's purposes that he was woefully unprepared. Elsewhere, with his sister, they were quite vexed he'd gotten as far as he had -- that he had managed to draw an original conclusion; that he had walked away; that he had gotten somewhere and not immediately drawn attention to himself, enough attention that he could be swiftly located. It was just fine that Jude be moderately incompetent at most things, the way someone with bound feet need not walk, as they were expected to very little of it.
Near would keep him cornered in the kitchen for all eternity, if Jude let him. Bogarting the wine bottle was a faux pas, but some veneer of class needed to be painted onto this binge drinking endeavor. Drinking in the library would at least make the process feel scholarly. "Chase me," Jude called back, without looking over his shoulder. His face went unseen, but it almost -- almost! -- sounded like he was laughing.
Things Jude was good at included steady hands: he poured himself a second glass as he climbed the stairs, observing the paintings hanging along the wall as he went. He liked the upstairs better. The downstairs was for entertaining, but upstairs -- upstairs was for living. He knew right where the library was, passing several other doors before shouldering the correct one open. The wine began to cast a warm, hazy hue across the cold night, twisting the stale futility of it into something cheerier, funnier. "What's your favorite room in the house?" The words echoed down the hall, as Jude slipped out of it and into the other room. His was the library.
Near would keep him cornered in the kitchen for all eternity, if Jude let him. Bogarting the wine bottle was a faux pas, but some veneer of class needed to be painted onto this binge drinking endeavor. Drinking in the library would at least make the process feel scholarly. "Chase me," Jude called back, without looking over his shoulder. His face went unseen, but it almost -- almost! -- sounded like he was laughing.
Things Jude was good at included steady hands: he poured himself a second glass as he climbed the stairs, observing the paintings hanging along the wall as he went. He liked the upstairs better. The downstairs was for entertaining, but upstairs -- upstairs was for living. He knew right where the library was, passing several other doors before shouldering the correct one open. The wine began to cast a warm, hazy hue across the cold night, twisting the stale futility of it into something cheerier, funnier. "What's your favorite room in the house?" The words echoed down the hall, as Jude slipped out of it and into the other room. His was the library.