Hey, so. I’m old.

Taking it, looking it over before undoing the cap and taking a long sip. Never saying no to a drink.

If anyone needs him, he’s on a beach somewhere gambling and drinking his last check away.

You’re so damn strict. Unclench sometimes, yeah? You’d give me ‘em whether I put up with ‘em or not.

It’s way past his bedtime. (Hasn’t had enough to drink to pass out yet.)

Sexiest man alive being that ugly motherfucker when @levelhands and I exist? Right, right ......

But you aren’t payin’ me. I’m the client. And I’m old and bitter —- comes with the territory, darlin’.

Fine. Then find someone else.

Maybe not. But it wouldn’t be a thing at all without ... me.

“That shit” is paying your bills.

Been tagged in a couple posts of kids being Emerald Beacon for Halloween thanks to the reboot. It didn’t make him tear up a little ... not at all.

He returns the grin, albeit weakly. As if a string was pulled to make it happen. “Thank you,” his hand covers hers, giving it a squeeze.

Absolutely it does.

Thank you I think.

Depends.

“Trust me, this ain’t a competition of woe. Misery loves company.” A squeeze to his shoulder before he’s pulling away to rest his hands on the bartop again. “How old are your boys?”

Bodhi places his drink down, looking over at the other as he speaks —- brows draw together in a display of commiseration. “Man I’m ... real sorry for your loss,” there’s slight hesitation when he lifts his hand, but only a flicker. He rests a rough palm on Connor’s shoulder. »