The Bartend.

Which Desmond had found to become much more true as the nights came and went. There was once a time where he’d be looking for the chance to swing at some rowdy lad, but these nights were nights he found himself praying for just a relaxing time.

"Hah," he chuckled before getting serious again, "Some friends if they’ve forgotten you. Where were you fellas headed?"

He placed the packet of cigarettes back into his coat pocket, swiping his hand on some blood. “Not so much,” he said, distracted by the thought of whether or not the blood belonged to him, “Hard to catch a game, you know? But you? How’sit with your baseball?”

It was best, in Roy's opinion to avoid the hospital. It was a place full of death and mourning. At its best, it was morphine, at its worst, there was nothing to alleviate pain. Sometimes, it was inevitable, but others, it was easier to tone it down a notch than hand over a chunk of cash to the hospital.

Roy shrugged, it was the truth of the matter. Their relationships were closer to those of acquaintances as opposed to that of friends and best friends. "Around, The Blind Tiger likely," with these friends plans were more tentative than set in stone. Mostly, their destination was simply where they ended up. "Where were you headed?" he nodded his chin at the man. There wasn't anyone else around so there was no need, but it was force of habit.

"Yeah, yeah," he nodded, "I hear you on that, I don't know about you, but the Country Club's been busier than ever. I guess people are tired of sitting at home in the cold. They'd rather be out and about with people at the fireplace we've got set up." He scooted over to one side of the steps using his hand to offer the other man a seat. "No, I haven't caught it lately, my ma's been staying over so she's been monopolizing the radio. It's been all tennis, all day. And when it's not she's been tuning into those horrors they've been putting on in the evening"

Why, I think I'd be amazing in comedy -- do you think they'd take me?" He grinned, "my parents would be so proud, their son the comedian."

The knock on the door irritated the woman more than startling her, but still she was surprised to have visitors at a place like Sal’s. Especially when only a select few knew that she was staying at his flat. 

"Who on Ear-" Daisy opened the door, her bitterness turning into warmth at the sight of Roy. It seemed like ages since the last time they spoke, and although she let him know in passing that she would be staying here since the fire, she never thought to even invite him over for a cup of tea.

"Well good morning." She chirped, her shoulders relaxing as she pulled the door open farther to let him in. "I’m surprised you even remembered the address I gave you. I rambled it off in such a hurry I almost forgot to say goodbye afterward."

Earth was she going to say? He snorted, "well you sure seem happy to see me." Roy shook his head, a smile growing on his face before he could help himself. Happiness was contagious especially when it came from someone as exuberant as Daisy.

"Good morning to you too," he greeted her, tipping an invisible hat in her direction. Roy'd woke with the sun today and seeing as he'd been tossing and turning all night, it was a welcome reprise to get out of bed. Waking up so early meant that he didn't have to wait much at Rita's for a fresh pastry. On the other hand, Daisy looked tired despite the lilt in her voice. "Now what would that say about me if I'd forgotten where my best friend was staying?"

He slipped past her through the door, muttering a thank you as he passed. The apartment was distinctly masculine, it showed in furniture and knick knacks that populated it. At once, Roy felt uncertain about his surroundings, it wasn't the house of anyone he knew which meant he didn't know what he should and shouldn't be touching. Most of him wanted to peer into the strange little box by the couch though. "My ma's staying with me for a bit, she asked me to give you this," he handed her the paper bag. It didn't weight much and when pressed, it was soft to the touch. "It's a scarf -- I took a peek on the way over."

Taking another look at his surroundings his eyes eventually resettled on Daisy's, "so have you had your morning coffee yet, or would you like to grab one at the Nine Owls -- my treat."

Desmond wiped his chin to find just a little blood on it, not entirely sure if it was his or not. “Just another night, friend,” he replied, “And you? Don’t seem like you’re havin’ the time of your life.”

He sighed, "I had plans to go out with some friends tonight but it seems they've either forgotten, or gotten lost." These particular friends had always lived life in a way that the present governed it more than reality. Drinking and driving was a common occurrence, for all Roy knew they could have gotten into trouble. He looked at the old man across the street slowly making his way down with his cane and made a count, if, by the time he'd reached the end of the street his friends hadn't arrived, Roy'd go off on his own.

He took a cigarette from the box, "thanks," he pulled a lighter from his own pocket. "Are you still keeping up with -- what was it -- football?"

"Kate. Pleasure." She regained her composure. No one would make her act this way. Even him. He looked remarkably familiar still. Like someone she had seen in a past life. Was that possible? Not in this day in age. Not with the many crowds and changes in Montford. 

"I was actually trying to make my way up the steps towards my home. Is there a reason you are blocking my entrance way?"

Roy was quick to respond, perhaps it was the charm set in by years working at the country club, or simply his disposition, "yes, I was sitting here all by myself when a stunning woman came across me. I was mostly hoping for a conversation -- and perhaps to convince her to allow me to take her out sometime, if she'd like."

He raised an eyebrow at her. She was like one of those woman who he'd seen ruling corners and holding court at the country club -- people like Daisy with heads that in past lives must have known the weight of crowns. Hands that must have held orbs and rods at grand coronations.

"Do you think she'd do me the honor of having a conversation?"

Evening.

"Good evening. May I ask who you are?" she replied.

He barely stirred but she could see his blue eyes look up and watch her face. They were glued to her and it was mutual. She could barely look away. How could she? Kate had never seen this man in her life but she was hooked. Mesmerized. Stunning. Drenched in the moonlight and a quiet yet pretty soul. She was not one to be taken aback by men, anyone for that matter, but he did that to her. He made that happen with one look up and one simple word. 

Roy pushed himself up to a sitting position, "it is quite the fine evening isn't it? I'm Roy." He raised his hand in greeting. "May I ask who you are?" His smile turned cheeky despite the woman's curious stutter in her movements, It was as if she'd seen a ghost. Roy took a glance behind himself. Just as he'd assumed, there was nothing there besides the remaining steps. "Were you looking for something?"

Arriving at his building, he found a man propped down on the steps leading to the door. At first, he thought it was just another drunken homeless. But moving closer, he discovered that the face was not at all unfamiliar.

"I’ve seen you before," he called out, "R…Ray was it?"

Leaning forward he rested the weight of his body on his knees, "rough night?" Roy gestured at him with his chin, he certainly looked worn out like rags after too many beatings.

It was nothing strange for Theo in his days off to go to different shops and see what he could get his hands on. More often than not, he had something new to look forward to tinker with once he returned to his apartment in town. In fact, this afternoon in particular he had his arm full of little nick-knacks that he just couldn’t leave without. 

Carefully making his way down the street and nearly tripping more than once, he was a mere block away from his apartment when his foot caught on what felt like another shoe as he stumbled forward, losing a few of the items in the process before he regained his balance. 

"Ah! I’m so sorry ‘bout that. What’s that saying about having two left feet? That’d be me. Really I am so sorry." He apologized repeatedly, trying to find a way to crouch down without spilling the few other items he had with him.

Turning off the busy main street, the babble of noise that came with crowds dimmed until it was only the distant echoes he could hear. It made for an eerie sort of night, but not one that Roy was afraid of. With the darkness so prominent at the hour, it was difficult to see -- or perhaps, it was simply that Roy was too tired to see anything besides the illusion of a comfortable mattress.

Steadying the man he'd collided with, Roy let out a chuckle. "You alright there? Ah, that's alright, I suppose it's a bit my fault as well, It's been a long day," he bent down to grab the items that'd tumbled loose from the box. "Do you mind if I asked what all of this was for?" He smiled, genuine in his curiosity as he handed back the items in his hands, hopefully he hadn't missed any.