"What kind of things for?" he asked.

Should he be honest? Probably not. "Theft. Disturbing the peace, or whateverthefuck. And that's all. Never done anything worse than that." He started fidgeting a little bit again, despite the fact that what he said was not exactly false.

Tristan nodded. Sounded like someone who couldn't get their shit together, not like a madman. "What was the last time you held a steady occupation?"

Anthony briefly contemplated lying, but decided against it. "Never." And now he was getting very fidgety.

Tristan looked up surprised. "Never?" This began to sound more and more like a workhouse rather than an asylum case. But he still had to make sure. "How come?"

"I don't like working. And employers don't like me." And a myriad of other reasons that he conveniently omitted.

"So you steal instead?" Tristan said with a condemning frown. He made a note. It sounded to him like the only condition this man suffered from was being an asshole.

Anthony winced at the man's frown. "Not really. I'm not, like, a thief or something. I'm just someone who has tried to steal things a few times." So, like, a thief.

Tristan was not amused. His frown remained. "And that is not a thief, according to you?" The man was a little self-delusional perhaps, but otherwise sane. If it hadn't offered him a sea-side trip, he would have been really angry with the constable for wasting his time.

"Well, no. It's different. You wouldn't get it." Anthony leaned back in his seat, defensively crossed his arms and huffed angrily like a child.