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[open post: in the parlor]
Oct. 21st, 2023 05:24 pmClaudius has made what he considers to be an imminently reasonable decision to address his current troubles with alchemical intervention. He's hardly the first to do it. The effects of poppy-juice are well-attested, and when powdered, dissolve beautifully into alcohol. No one could condemn him.
Yes, all right, many people could condemn him. Many people could condemn him, and bid him to repent for the myriad sins he's committed in his short time in this mansion, never mind on Earth. And he'd condemn himself, if he had the mind for it, for not imbibing the concoction in his room just before sleep. But he hasn't slept well enough to predict it.
That doesn't mean he should be drunk on laudanum in the middle of the day in the parlor. But there are so many parlors. Who actually cares? Claudius sprawls on the sofa, bottled drink in hand, and reflects on the many things he doesn't care about.
Yes, all right, many people could condemn him. Many people could condemn him, and bid him to repent for the myriad sins he's committed in his short time in this mansion, never mind on Earth. And he'd condemn himself, if he had the mind for it, for not imbibing the concoction in his room just before sleep. But he hasn't slept well enough to predict it.
That doesn't mean he should be drunk on laudanum in the middle of the day in the parlor. But there are so many parlors. Who actually cares? Claudius sprawls on the sofa, bottled drink in hand, and reflects on the many things he doesn't care about.
