Francis was about to take another swig when Edmund spoke. He looked over to see how much of it was the alcohol talking. The poor guy had plenty, so he wasn't certain. He nudged him and nodded. "You're my new friend!" Even if he'd forget or pretend to have when he sobered.

"What!?" He turned in his seat to face him. He clasped his hands in his. "Tell. Me. Everything !" He looked into his eyes, captivated.

Edmund would have jumped when his hand was grabbed if he was sober, but seeing as he wasn't, he let it slide.  Francis' hands were warm, like his sisters, but much larger.

"I - oh, um... I had sort of, tried to take a woman's purse, I think?"  He hated recalling that day, but Francis didn't seem judgmental, and Edmund didn't want to make him upset.  "The man hit me - however many times, and just as he's pulled out the cuffs a cart comes out - out of nowhere, I swear!  Misses me, thank God, but ran over the constable.

"And I... I was so worried about that damn guy!  I asked him if he was alright, told 'im to let me check his leg but he just... yelled at me, and told me to hand him his cuffs back!"  Saying it all out loud made it sound funny.  Edmund could hardly believe it when he started giggling through his words.  When was the last time he giggled?

He should probably drink more often.

"So then I picked up the cuffs and started - cursing at him, and I threw them down the street, I was so angry.  He tried to hit me with his baton but struck himself and dropped it, so - well, I picked it up and ran.  I still have it, too."

Francis listened intently and nodded, not even looking surprised at the woman's purse bit. A person has to survive after all, and he'd have done the same.

"Really!? What are the odds!" He snickered as he mentioned the constable being hit but obviously not badly injured. His face brightened at the giggle and he giggled as well.

By the end of the story, he laughed. "Just what he deserves. That's amazing. Can I see it?" He said speaking lower and leaning in so they weren't over heard. He looked to the bartender then back. "Later, of course."

The other man's nods and smiles and laughs only encouraged Edmund's own, and he found himself agreeing without thought to his question.

"Yeah, yeah, of course.  Later, later, but yes.  I'd be happy - happy to show it off."

Edmund took another sip of his second glass around a grin, and then another.  He felt so warm and pleasant.  Everything was fuzzy and moving slightly more than normal, but who cared, he'd made a friend!  As far as he was concerned, he was doing great.

"You - you tell me something, Francis, spin me a story.  I wanna - I wanna hear about you, my friend, my friend."

Francis was invigorated hearing the other man. He seemed to have cheered up so much since the start of their talk. And really, having a drink and cheering up a new friend. Could there be any better in his current life?

"Thanks. I can't wait to see it." He was still grinning from hearing the story. He patted Edmund on the shoulder as he sipped his drink. He looked at the other from the question.

"Hm. I don't know if I have anything good to tell. I'm just a guy. I got kicked out of my home after a tragedy and I've been just living for myself ever since! If I think up a good story even half as fun as yours, I'll be sure to tell it though."

"A tragedy," Edmund repeated meaningfully.  "That's so sad.  I hate tragedies.  Sorry you got kicked out."

What kind of shit person kicks out someone so nice and fun?  Whoever they were, Edmund hated them.  He pouted at the thought.

"I wish I could do that.  Live for myself, I mean.  I've gotta... I have to take care of my baby sister.  She's so sweet, Francis."  And here Edmund was, drinking, decidedly not taking care of her.  His frown deepened.

"She's too sweet.  I dunno where she gets it from, I'm - I'm shit, and I can't even... take care of her.  If it were just me, I'd - I'd be fine, but she shouldn't be... with me."

Francis sighed and shrugged. "Some people are cold and cruel." He could have told the guy why he'd get kicked out. But he was worried cutting the night short, and if he said it here, others would hear. He didn't want to leave Whitby yet.

Francis listened and nodded. He seemed in thought and leaned to Edmund to speak, wanting his full attention as it was important.

"You do it because you care. That doesn't mean you need to have no time to yourself. You love your sister and you can't guarantee anyone else will. Just need to do your best and care about her, but don't burn yourself out. She wouldn't want anyone else caring for her but her brother." He patted his shoulder. "But if you need help... go to st. Hilda's. It's a stupid church but the two priests are okay sometimes. I've gotten free food from them before."

Was he drinking too much to actually let the guy know about it. It could cut in to his free stuff. Maybe he was getting soft to the young guy and felt for him trying to look out for his sister.

Francis leaned in, and Edmund had no choice but to look him in the face as he spoke.  He had a little trouble following along, but most of what he said made sense.  He couldn't guarantee anyone else would love her, and Mable didn't want anyone else but him to do what he was doing.

Francis was so smart.  Edmund mimicked him and touched his shoulder, just with the tips of his fingers, appreciative.

"St. Hilda's?  I know... hey, I know that place," he said, squinting.  "Father - Father Brennan's there, he - he paid for our hotel room... do you know him?  He's tall like you, y'know."

Francis rose his brow and nodded. "Sometimes he let's me sleep on a cot in a back room for cleaning the church. I hate God but priests are just people and the church is just a building. He knows I don't believe the stuff. "

He held up a finger as if it was a secret. "He's ok. Not amazing, but I don't know amazing people. "

The finger moved to point at Edmund. "Cept you. You're amazing!" He laughed a little and almost finished his second mug, his head hanging a bit as that warmth and buzz filled him.

"This has become a good day. Thank you."

Edmund's face might have fallen a bit at what Francis said about the Father, but it was gone so quickly, replaced by a sheepish and embarrassed smile.  Francis should really stop praising him, Edmund could feel himself getting addicted to it already.

"You're amazing," he insisted.  "I'm having a good day too, now, thanks to you.  Hey, ah - here."

Noticing the mans empty glass, Edmund tug in his pocket for his last coin and handed it to Francis.  "Only - only if you want another drink."