Thread: Dresses and Derangement (Shikokudarkstar & Charlie_Death)

It had taken a few days before Thomas felt himself interested in going outside his home again. The bruise on his face had faded to a sickly yellowish tint that would be easy to hide with make-up. However, Thomas didn't wish to be Arabella so soon. He knew he was hiding, practicing his knife throwing and sewing hidden compartments in all of his dresses. What had pushed him to leave his home had been a news story. John had mentioned it in passing, one morning at breakfast. It wasn't unusual that Thomas would forgo reading the paper but John tended to read it rather religiously. It was one morning that John mentioned about a rather gruesome murder and when Thomas heard the name of the victim...he decided that it was time to come out of hiding. Realistically it could have been anyone who murdered the man and left the head for some poor person to find but Thomas wasn't above imagining Arabella's suitor as an avenging angel of sorts. So perhaps that had been why he found himself at the club again even though it was rather stupid of him to be out. Thomas had dressed well, in one of his few male attire that was fashionable. It was a brown waistcoat and suit, roughly the same color as leather with a stylish top hat to match. It wasn't common that he dressed so nicely and so, wearing the outfit suited him as a disgust of sorts. Thomas sat himself in a shadowy corner, watching the patrons come and go while he jotted down notes for work. He made notes of things that Arabella would need to know and things that would be good writing in his books. That is until the object of his true interest came inside the club. Thomas huffed amused as he watched the man. Was he really the avenging angel that Thomas thought? It was a nice fantasy but he imagined that's all it was. Leaning his hand into his fist, he jotted down more notes before hiding away the papers. He had caught his glimpse of the man. That was all he really needed to see. Thomas leaned back, smiling to himself as he felt the texture of his women's drawers against his skin. Yes, he supposed he was a deviant for enjoying the texture of women's undergarments better than men's. He oftentimes wore the corset as well, adjusting the fit to just hold him instead of pushing his fatty chest into a semblance of cleavage. Standing up, he walked out of the club after watching Mr. Strand for a while. He supposed it was the first time in a long while he did something somewhat intelligent. Of course it would have been wiser to hide in his home or at least hide his bruised eye better. He looked back at the club with a sigh. He supposed it was about time he had Arabella cut Mr. Strand. It was getting too dangerous. Thomas had to admit...he was getting attached. That was rather stupid of him. Thomas's musings were stopped when he heard footsteps behind him. He sighed, turning his head to look back. It isn't wise to follow someone in the dark. They might think of you as a petty thief or something of the like. He hummed as he continued walking. This also wasn't wise. He supposed that he didn't make many of those decisions anymore. He wondered if this was what John meant when he said Thomas used violence as a scream for help. Sighing, he pulled a turned his wrists to flick out the two knives hidden in his sleeves. I suppose you should know, I am armed.