[He's silent then for several long, drawn-out moments as he turns the other man's words over in his head, trying to see them clearly despite the mess the gin has made of him. It's a difficult thing, though, he's fighting a losing battle with his own inebriation, and as such he can find no better argument than the one he's already made. He isn't prepared to say that he isn't poison, that he isn't as toxic to be around as he considers himself to be, but--
--but. He can make a concession, at least.]
Mutual intoxication. Hah. Well, all right then. I suppose I could agree to that.
no subject
--but. He can make a concession, at least.]
Mutual intoxication. Hah. Well, all right then. I suppose I could agree to that.