Misery loves company (open)

[notallworthy]

Tom Jones has a tendency to blow things out of proportion, wallow in grief, and throw himself blindly into unsafe situations when he feels upset. Losing his lover certainly counts as something to be distraught over and Tom has earned every right to something incredibly stupid. But he is trying to break this habit and he is now desperately

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[abitofboth]

Childermass stands. And smirks, though at Tom. The music may actually be why he didn't just keep walking.

[notallworthy]

Tom looks up at him for a moment, not understanding the reason for the smirk.

[abitofboth]

"You make quite a romantic picture, sir. All you lack is a howling moor in the background, or perhaps a hopeless addiction of some sort."

[notallworthy]

"Really? Why? I don't see what good that would do me."

[abitofboth]

"Precious little, but it might help Mrs. Radcliffe paint you a bit more clearly."

[notallworthy]

"Who, sir, and why would she be painting me?" A bit out of sorts? Possibly.

[abitofboth]

"A novelist, not a painter. It isn't important." He starts to go, then turns back and says, "I've heard that bad advice and alcohol go well with broken hearts too, but the novelists tend to avoid them. Too squalid, I expect."

[notallworthy]

"I'm not broken hearted." Tom looks back down at the records. "And I already tried advice anyway."

[abitofboth]

"Ah, but was it bad advice?"

[notallworthy]

"I don't know yet."

[abitofboth]

"That is always the trick, isn't it?" He gives a small, semi-mocking bow.

[notallworthy]

Tom shrugs. "Who are you, sir?"

[abitofboth]

"Who am I? Or are you trying to find out what I am, more particularly? Where should be clear to a sharp Somerset man like yourself, and the when is likely not pressing." His lips quirk. "You don't quite look up to why, this evening."

[notallworthy]

Tom sighs. "Who, sir. Your name please."

[abitofboth]

"John Childermass. At someone or other's service, most of the time."

[notallworthy]

Tom gets to his feet to bow. "Tom Jones, at your's."