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[theotherright]

Cabin 127. No calls, we text like men on our disney cruise phones.

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[theotherright]

Arthur snorts too, because there's nothing quite like -- to his ears, at least -- damning with faint praise.

His lip draws up, a grimace rather than a smile, and his fingers are once again tapping out an unconscious rhythm on the couch. He could come clean about what he did to Smith in his paranoia. Or about the reason the word irresponsible turns to ashes in his mouth. Too many thoughts indeed, and what good were any of them when he--

He stops that thought, and takes a breath, and says firmly, around the obstruction in his throat: "Anyway. I think we've strayed from the point, a bit."

[midnightroads]

"Depends on which point you're talking about. Anyway. At the risk of coming off like I'm telling you what to do, I think a lot of what you're trying to figure up is knotted up in what you're supposed to do. You're not going to be able to figure yourself out, what you want, if you keep a death grip on that 'supposed'."

He makes it sound so easy, doesn't he?

[theotherright]

He sure makes it sound like he thinks it's easy!

Arthur's posture has shifted over the last several bars of conversation. Where before he was leaning forward, hands active and forearms on his knees, he's now drawn upright with his cane across his chest. There's a generalised resentment in him that he couldn't place the source of even if he was conscious of it, and while the foundations were already laid, this conversation is building it brick by brick.

"You want me to throw out what I'm supposed to do? That- that's your advice? I'm not like some people; I can't just decide that rules don't apply to me."

On one level, this is hilariously untrue. On another, deeper level, it's the most core truth he could put into words.

[midnightroads]

"Right. So how do you decide the rules that apply to you in a situation?"

There's a path he'd love to lead Arthur down, a little light logic play. Like one of Shakespeare's fools, though that's hardly a comparison he knows to draw for himself.

[theotherright]

IDK, vibes?

Arthur can see where he at least thinks Bash is going with this, but if Bash's end goal here is 'follow your conscience', then he might have trouble selling that to the guy who does not like or trust himself.

All the same, he goes stiffly along with the thought experiment. "Alright. I-I... assess the situation. What will help, what will stop somebody getting hurt." His instinct is to think about dangerous situations here rather than like. Kissing.

[midnightroads]

That's totally detailed his planned angle of attack, but not necessarily in a bad way.

"Well, that seems a lot more situational than just following rules. That sounds like some sort of a personal judgment call you're making, now doesn't it?"

[theotherright]

Arthur thinks of Smith, and scrubs a hand over his face, and says in a drained sort of voice:

"Yes, but I don't think anybody wants to be relying on my personal judgement calls."