There's that surprise again as Ulysse dumbly takes the gumbo from Rook, recognising the bag it's been delivered in. "... You've met Michel?" he asks before catching himself and shaking his head. Of course Rook's met Midnight, otherwise how would he have brought the youngest brother's homemade gumbo over for dinner?
"I'm sorry, I hope he didn't bug you to deliver this," he sighs. "Have you eaten yet?" He knows Midnight will either have force-fed Rook, first, or packed double to have them both share at the bar.
"Yeah, I met him," Rook replies as he starts moving the chairs down. There's something quiet and calm about him tonight, a little bit of a smile in the corner of his mouth as he shakes his head. "What's there to bug? I was coming here anyway and he fed me. It's only fair."
He glances at Ulysse when he drops the second chair down, pale eyes lingering at the dark ones for a moment before Rook shakes his head again and moves to the third chair.
"You shouldn't worry so much, boss. Your little brother is hardly mean enough to force me to do anything I don't wanna do."
"Michel can be a manipulative little devil when he wants to be," Ulysse retorts without any bite at all and all the fondness in the world for the imp he calls brother, gumbo set aside on the bar counter for the moment. "Never underestimate how much he can make you do what you would rather not."
That calm is interesting, though. A lingering effect of having spoken to Midnight, perhaps, or has Rook settled in the Keys so well after all? Ulysse puzzles over it, sneaking little glances over at the other man as they move together to set the bar up for the night.
"He's fine," Rook replies simply with a little huff under his breath. "I found him sketching an alligator and I think I'm gonna get a tattoo made by him eventually."
He doesn't mention that they spent a considerable portion of the time talking about Ulysse himself. Rook isn't stupid, Ulysse seems like a man, who isn't exactly happy about becoming a talking point between others, never mind if that talk is completely positive.
Ulysse doesn't comment on the alligator because of course that's what Midnight was doing. The little artist has a knack for meeting just about every person of interest that comes into town. What they might have spoken of, though... Hmm.
After giving Rook a wary sideling stare, Ulysse shrugs and finishes up on his side of the bar with the chairs. "A bit more than usual, yeah," he answers eventually. "People have heard Arie's back and likely to perform, so they'll probably come for him."
He casts a look over the bar, quietly content that everything seems to be in order, and asks, "Do you want a drink? We've got a lot of time before open..."
Rook hums under his breath as an answer as they put down the last chairs. Instead of following his new boss' gaze over the bar, he looks at that pretty profile and thinks about the fact that Ulysse used to dance. It seems fitting. Rook would pay to watch that body move, sure, even if he doesn't quite understand anything about artsy sports.
"Sure," he murmurs as he slips behind the bar without asking any permissions. He works here now, doesn't he? "What do you want, boss?" he asks as he is looking for glasses, picking something fairly small that you usually get a club soda in.
Next he rummages around a bit in the drawers and finds a fork, putting it on top of the wrapped up gumbo on the counter. "Do you want me to warm that up for you?"
And just like that, Ulysse is finding his work taken out of his hands and looks a touch bewildered for a second, there, as he stares back at Rook making himself at home behind the bar. He's not annoyed, just a bit confused how they got here.
"... I was going to offer to make coffee while heating that up, actually. You're going to have your hands full dealing with the customers later..." he answers with a little sigh of defeat and a quick, faint smile. "Though I don't mind starting with something alcoholic instead."
"Coffee sounds good, I'm pretty sure I can handle that..." Giving Ulysse a brief look under his brows, Rook puts a glass of club soda on the counter, a bit of ice in it and grabs the gumbo, heading to the back room with it.
It gives him good chance to look around and get familiar with the place. He meets the bartender there, has some instructions on how to use the coffee pot and microwave along with some haphazardly flirty grins that are absolutely meaningless while the man fills up some boxes with fruit slices and whatever is needed for the drink mixing. Rook doesn't stick around to find out, he simply warms the gumbo and takes it back to Ulysse, laying it out for him on the counter with utensils and a napkin.
"Coffee's ready in a bit." Then with a faint smirk curling one corner of his mouth, Rook observes, "You aren't very used to people doing things for you."
Ulysse had finished up on tidying up behind the bar while Rook scarpered to the kitchen. He can privately admit that it actually charmed him a bit that the gruff bouncer had been so quick to take things out of his hands to take care of things, and it leaves him with a smile lingering over his lips as he finishes his work.
Then the gumbo is set in front of him and he can't help it, the sight of the napkin as well has him huffing a quietly delighted laugh, short and sweet as he meets Rook's eyes. "No, I'm not," he admits, the smile briefly growing before he lowers his gaze and plucks up the spoon to start poking at the gumbo. "Thank you, though, I appreciate it."
Rook watches him, pale eyes observant as he lets his gaze take in the amusement, the quiet laughter that he doubts is all that common occurrence and lastly the almost demure but not lowering of that gaze. Ulysse tells a story with each of those and Rook finds that he is an avid listener.
"You're welcome," he says easily, head tilting a bit as he leans on the counter and stares at his boss, feeling as if he's gravitating towards this man's orbit and the force pulling him in is both unexpected and strong.
Club soda, he plunks a few ice into his own glass and tops those with some bubbles. Taking a sip he still is watching Ulysse over the lip of the glass.
Ulysse has a taste and shrugs, "It's delicious. Michel's a good cook and always has been."
He watches Rook right back, quietly inquisitive as they enjoy their food and drink. "He fed you before he let you leave, right? How did you like your visit with him?"
Midnight is a chatty one, and Rook so far has been the opposite. Ulysse wonders if his new bouncer is a bit like Grey in that respect where he doesn't mind so much the youngest of his brothers being so chatty, or if he was just tolerating it.
Rook takes another sip from his drink and studies his new boss for a moment longer. Then he shrugs a bit. "I liked it just fine." The tattoo artist is a chatty cat with a sunny disposition to life, Rook actually liked spending time with him. But he's hardly a man, who makes a point of that.
He notes that Ulysse is more than happy to direct conversation away from himself. Not exactly surprising.
"He told me you used to dance," Rook says casually.
There's a little pause and visible surprise, gumbo forgotten for a moment as Ulysse puzzles over why on earth that would have been brought up in Rook's conversation with Midnight. Midnight's often expressed his regret that Ulysse had given up dancing to focus on taking care of their little family, but why mention it to Rook...?
"He did, did he?" Shaking his head, Ulysse resumes eating with a little shrug. "Yes, I used to dance. Quite a few years ago, a long time before I opened the bar."
Rook nods as he takes another sip of his drink. "I'm not surprised. You hold yourself in a way that tells me you are aware of your body."
He doesn't make a big deal out of it and notes that Ulysse is somewhat uncomfortable with people talking about him when he's not there. Even if he can be quite certain that the conversation had been in positive light. Maybe it's something about not being comfortable in a spotlight. But then, it doesn't seem quite like that either.
Rook shrugs, trying to lessen the tension with the careless gesture.
"Ever miss it? Competitive sports are a bit like a whole life when you take one on and at least I find that it's hard to give up the mentality."
Ulysse smiles a bit, relaxing despite himself at Rook's shrugging and apparent attempt at... small-talk? Or is this mid-talk?
"I wasn't really in it long enough to get to competition level of work," he explains with a small, elegant shrug of his own. "But... yes, I do miss it. I like working towards a goal, and I like dancing, so putting the two together was nice in that respect."
Not that he regrets quitting. Family always comes first, and he would have regretted it far more if he hadn't been there for Midnight or their father.
Peering curiously into Rook's face that's so full of history from the little scars and fine lines showing a lack of consideration for sun damage, a crooked sharp nose that had probably been broken at least once in a past fight, Ulysse can't help but wonder-
"Of course," Rook admits without bothering to hide the levity in that statement, pale eyes shifting down to the gumbo on Ulysse's plate and then back up to those midnight eyes. "Like I said, it becomes your life and changing that thought process just like that is like trying to reinvent life as a whole."
He shrugs again, this time with a twitch at the corners of his mouth, amused.
"You've kind of given me a half-way house for the whole process. Maybe I should take you dancing one day as a thank you."
The offer is an unexpected one and it surprises a wider smile out of Ulysse. He's not teasing, now, but there's definitely a lightness to his voice as he comments, "You're the last person I would expect to offer to take me dancing. I'd be an idiot to turn that offer down."
But he recognises he'd better keep it professional. Or at least, avoid letting this go into more intimate territory, given Rook is his employee and there's still the matter of Anton sniffing around ready to cause trouble...
A man can dream, though.
"If you ever get an itch to spar, though," he begins slowly, casting a thoughtful glance over to the staff entry where Damian might show up at any minute, now. "You could always talk to Damian. He doesn't do MMA as far as I know, but he's dabbled outside of just boxing."
That smile draws on a string in Rook's gut. That obvious delight makes him wonder what the cop is even doing not taking this sweetheart out to dancing? Then he reminds himself not to push further, because he's not here to cause trouble and Ulysse is a taken man.
For a brief quiet moment, silence lingers between them as Rook pushes down every urge and instinct he has to respond to that with more. His jaw shifts to one side and then he forcibly puts his gaze down for a moment, drawing in a breath.
"Yeah, I'll look into that," he says when he lifts his gaze again, glancing at Damian. "I could teach him some basics about dealing with weapons and so on."
Then he meets Ulysse's gaze again, pale eyes calm once again. "There any dancing clubs in this town? I gotta warn you, I'm not much of a dancer."
Ulysse's smile returns and he slowly answers, "There are, but it depends on what you're up for... I could take some time to teach you the basics of whichever you're interested in? Though if you want to just go somewhere where it's just about bumping and grinding, that hardly needs any practice at all."
He doesn't bother mentioning Damian's knowledge of weapons and disarming them. That's for the waiter to disclose as he decides himself along with information about the twins and their inherited involvement in the gangs of the area that had made such knowledge a necessity in the first place.
"... Do you actually want to go dancing?" Ulysse asks, smile softening a bit. "I don't want you to do something that would just make you uncomfortable."
Rook assumes that Damian isn't capable of taking down the mooks that plague the bar because why wouldn't have Ulysse asked him to do it instead of getting someone like Rook to handle his business? He has a very specific skill set and he assumes it's why he was hired.
He listens to the break down of the dancing places and then shakes his head. "Why bother with something barely there? You don't want to just be bumping and grinding."
Then the last question makes him huff. Ulysse receives a very poignant look from the fighter. "Do I look like a guy, who brow beats himself into doing shit that I don't wanna do? I'll make you a deal. I'll tell you when I'm not interested in something and until then, you can just assume that if I'm asking for something, I'm interested in it."
"That certainly makes it easier to understand you..." Ulysse muses, eyes crinkling with silent delight as he finally lowers his gaze to eat a bit more of the gumbo. "I'll keep that in mind for future reference."
Which also unfortunately tells Ulysse that he definitely shouldn't read into these little interactions with Rook. If Rook were actually interested in pursuing him for something more than a strictly professional or even friendly relationship, he'd make it obvious.
"I guess we'd better set some time aside for your dance lessons, then," he suggests. It would be nice even without any undertones, because Ulysse cherishes his few friends, and it's starting to look like Rook might be able to worm his way into those ranks whether he wants to or not, and spending more time with him outside of work would be nice.
If Rook didn't think that his new boss and the local sheriff weren't an item, he definitely would have made a play for it. Because he isn't the kind of guy, who just simply sits by and watches something he wants without trying to reach for it. Sure, he thinks he's not good for anyone right now, and Ulysse is the first person he's considered with any kind of interest ever since the accident, he hasn't even jerked off since then. His life has mostly just been a pleasure-less existence for so long. But he is paying attention now, to this one particular man.
And true to his habits, he doesn't insert any pointless pleasantries about either of these topics, he simply nods and takes another sip of his drink. He would tell Ulysse in no uncertain terms if he wasn't up for the dancing lessons.
"You happen to know anyone, who would be up for renting one of those house boats?" The harbor is right there and he wouldn't mind being close to the Roadhouse just in case some assholes would decide to ransack it during the close hours.
Ulysse glances towards the windows through which he can still just about make out the harbor with the darkening of dusk, brow rising as he then returns his gaze to Rook. That's quite the shift in conversation... Then again, perhaps Rook felt he'd exhausted the topic of dancing.
"I know a couple of guys," he answers slowly. "You want to live on the water?"
"Seems like the whole experience," Rook replies with a small shrug and a tiny, fleeting smile that twitches at the corners of his lips. Money is not an issue for him. He still has plenty lining his pockets from the glory days. Working in construction wasn't exactly a finance decision but something for him to do to get his mind off his situation. So, even if the salary Ulysse decides to pay him isn't enough to rent a boat, he'll be fine.
"I suppose," he agrees with a little shrug. "I'll give you some names and suggestions for which docks are fairly comfortable to live on. Some of them can be a bit... rough."
Ulysse will probably end up asking Midnight and Grey if there's any space in their area, because at least then he can be sure Rook won't be on his own and getting jumped by Anton's ilk.
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There's that surprise again as Ulysse dumbly takes the gumbo from Rook, recognising the bag it's been delivered in. "... You've met Michel?" he asks before catching himself and shaking his head. Of course Rook's met Midnight, otherwise how would he have brought the youngest brother's homemade gumbo over for dinner?
"I'm sorry, I hope he didn't bug you to deliver this," he sighs. "Have you eaten yet?" He knows Midnight will either have force-fed Rook, first, or packed double to have them both share at the bar.
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He glances at Ulysse when he drops the second chair down, pale eyes lingering at the dark ones for a moment before Rook shakes his head again and moves to the third chair.
"You shouldn't worry so much, boss. Your little brother is hardly mean enough to force me to do anything I don't wanna do."
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"Michel can be a manipulative little devil when he wants to be," Ulysse retorts without any bite at all and all the fondness in the world for the imp he calls brother, gumbo set aside on the bar counter for the moment. "Never underestimate how much he can make you do what you would rather not."
That calm is interesting, though. A lingering effect of having spoken to Midnight, perhaps, or has Rook settled in the Keys so well after all? Ulysse puzzles over it, sneaking little glances over at the other man as they move together to set the bar up for the night.
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He doesn't mention that they spent a considerable portion of the time talking about Ulysse himself. Rook isn't stupid, Ulysse seems like a man, who isn't exactly happy about becoming a talking point between others, never mind if that talk is completely positive.
"You expect tonight to be busy?"
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Ulysse doesn't comment on the alligator because of course that's what Midnight was doing. The little artist has a knack for meeting just about every person of interest that comes into town. What they might have spoken of, though... Hmm.
After giving Rook a wary sideling stare, Ulysse shrugs and finishes up on his side of the bar with the chairs. "A bit more than usual, yeah," he answers eventually. "People have heard Arie's back and likely to perform, so they'll probably come for him."
He casts a look over the bar, quietly content that everything seems to be in order, and asks, "Do you want a drink? We've got a lot of time before open..."
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"Sure," he murmurs as he slips behind the bar without asking any permissions. He works here now, doesn't he? "What do you want, boss?" he asks as he is looking for glasses, picking something fairly small that you usually get a club soda in.
Next he rummages around a bit in the drawers and finds a fork, putting it on top of the wrapped up gumbo on the counter. "Do you want me to warm that up for you?"
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And just like that, Ulysse is finding his work taken out of his hands and looks a touch bewildered for a second, there, as he stares back at Rook making himself at home behind the bar. He's not annoyed, just a bit confused how they got here.
"... I was going to offer to make coffee while heating that up, actually. You're going to have your hands full dealing with the customers later..." he answers with a little sigh of defeat and a quick, faint smile. "Though I don't mind starting with something alcoholic instead."
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It gives him good chance to look around and get familiar with the place. He meets the bartender there, has some instructions on how to use the coffee pot and microwave along with some haphazardly flirty grins that are absolutely meaningless while the man fills up some boxes with fruit slices and whatever is needed for the drink mixing. Rook doesn't stick around to find out, he simply warms the gumbo and takes it back to Ulysse, laying it out for him on the counter with utensils and a napkin.
"Coffee's ready in a bit." Then with a faint smirk curling one corner of his mouth, Rook observes, "You aren't very used to people doing things for you."
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Ulysse had finished up on tidying up behind the bar while Rook scarpered to the kitchen. He can privately admit that it actually charmed him a bit that the gruff bouncer had been so quick to take things out of his hands to take care of things, and it leaves him with a smile lingering over his lips as he finishes his work.
Then the gumbo is set in front of him and he can't help it, the sight of the napkin as well has him huffing a quietly delighted laugh, short and sweet as he meets Rook's eyes. "No, I'm not," he admits, the smile briefly growing before he lowers his gaze and plucks up the spoon to start poking at the gumbo. "Thank you, though, I appreciate it."
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"You're welcome," he says easily, head tilting a bit as he leans on the counter and stares at his boss, feeling as if he's gravitating towards this man's orbit and the force pulling him in is both unexpected and strong.
Club soda, he plunks a few ice into his own glass and tops those with some bubbles. Taking a sip he still is watching Ulysse over the lip of the glass.
"How is it? The gumbo?"
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Ulysse has a taste and shrugs, "It's delicious. Michel's a good cook and always has been."
He watches Rook right back, quietly inquisitive as they enjoy their food and drink. "He fed you before he let you leave, right? How did you like your visit with him?"
Midnight is a chatty one, and Rook so far has been the opposite. Ulysse wonders if his new bouncer is a bit like Grey in that respect where he doesn't mind so much the youngest of his brothers being so chatty, or if he was just tolerating it.
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He notes that Ulysse is more than happy to direct conversation away from himself. Not exactly surprising.
"He told me you used to dance," Rook says casually.
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There's a little pause and visible surprise, gumbo forgotten for a moment as Ulysse puzzles over why on earth that would have been brought up in Rook's conversation with Midnight. Midnight's often expressed his regret that Ulysse had given up dancing to focus on taking care of their little family, but why mention it to Rook...?
"He did, did he?" Shaking his head, Ulysse resumes eating with a little shrug. "Yes, I used to dance. Quite a few years ago, a long time before I opened the bar."
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He doesn't make a big deal out of it and notes that Ulysse is somewhat uncomfortable with people talking about him when he's not there. Even if he can be quite certain that the conversation had been in positive light. Maybe it's something about not being comfortable in a spotlight. But then, it doesn't seem quite like that either.
Rook shrugs, trying to lessen the tension with the careless gesture.
"Ever miss it? Competitive sports are a bit like a whole life when you take one on and at least I find that it's hard to give up the mentality."
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Ulysse smiles a bit, relaxing despite himself at Rook's shrugging and apparent attempt at... small-talk? Or is this mid-talk?
"I wasn't really in it long enough to get to competition level of work," he explains with a small, elegant shrug of his own. "But... yes, I do miss it. I like working towards a goal, and I like dancing, so putting the two together was nice in that respect."
Not that he regrets quitting. Family always comes first, and he would have regretted it far more if he hadn't been there for Midnight or their father.
Peering curiously into Rook's face that's so full of history from the little scars and fine lines showing a lack of consideration for sun damage, a crooked sharp nose that had probably been broken at least once in a past fight, Ulysse can't help but wonder-
"What about you? Do you miss it?"
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He shrugs again, this time with a twitch at the corners of his mouth, amused.
"You've kind of given me a half-way house for the whole process. Maybe I should take you dancing one day as a thank you."
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The offer is an unexpected one and it surprises a wider smile out of Ulysse. He's not teasing, now, but there's definitely a lightness to his voice as he comments, "You're the last person I would expect to offer to take me dancing. I'd be an idiot to turn that offer down."
But he recognises he'd better keep it professional. Or at least, avoid letting this go into more intimate territory, given Rook is his employee and there's still the matter of Anton sniffing around ready to cause trouble...
A man can dream, though.
"If you ever get an itch to spar, though," he begins slowly, casting a thoughtful glance over to the staff entry where Damian might show up at any minute, now. "You could always talk to Damian. He doesn't do MMA as far as I know, but he's dabbled outside of just boxing."
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For a brief quiet moment, silence lingers between them as Rook pushes down every urge and instinct he has to respond to that with more. His jaw shifts to one side and then he forcibly puts his gaze down for a moment, drawing in a breath.
"Yeah, I'll look into that," he says when he lifts his gaze again, glancing at Damian. "I could teach him some basics about dealing with weapons and so on."
Then he meets Ulysse's gaze again, pale eyes calm once again. "There any dancing clubs in this town? I gotta warn you, I'm not much of a dancer."
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Ulysse's smile returns and he slowly answers, "There are, but it depends on what you're up for... I could take some time to teach you the basics of whichever you're interested in? Though if you want to just go somewhere where it's just about bumping and grinding, that hardly needs any practice at all."
He doesn't bother mentioning Damian's knowledge of weapons and disarming them. That's for the waiter to disclose as he decides himself along with information about the twins and their inherited involvement in the gangs of the area that had made such knowledge a necessity in the first place.
"... Do you actually want to go dancing?" Ulysse asks, smile softening a bit. "I don't want you to do something that would just make you uncomfortable."
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He listens to the break down of the dancing places and then shakes his head. "Why bother with something barely there? You don't want to just be bumping and grinding."
Then the last question makes him huff. Ulysse receives a very poignant look from the fighter. "Do I look like a guy, who brow beats himself into doing shit that I don't wanna do? I'll make you a deal. I'll tell you when I'm not interested in something and until then, you can just assume that if I'm asking for something, I'm interested in it."
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"That certainly makes it easier to understand you..." Ulysse muses, eyes crinkling with silent delight as he finally lowers his gaze to eat a bit more of the gumbo. "I'll keep that in mind for future reference."
Which also unfortunately tells Ulysse that he definitely shouldn't read into these little interactions with Rook. If Rook were actually interested in pursuing him for something more than a strictly professional or even friendly relationship, he'd make it obvious.
"I guess we'd better set some time aside for your dance lessons, then," he suggests. It would be nice even without any undertones, because Ulysse cherishes his few friends, and it's starting to look like Rook might be able to worm his way into those ranks whether he wants to or not, and spending more time with him outside of work would be nice.
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And true to his habits, he doesn't insert any pointless pleasantries about either of these topics, he simply nods and takes another sip of his drink. He would tell Ulysse in no uncertain terms if he wasn't up for the dancing lessons.
"You happen to know anyone, who would be up for renting one of those house boats?" The harbor is right there and he wouldn't mind being close to the Roadhouse just in case some assholes would decide to ransack it during the close hours.
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Ulysse glances towards the windows through which he can still just about make out the harbor with the darkening of dusk, brow rising as he then returns his gaze to Rook. That's quite the shift in conversation... Then again, perhaps Rook felt he'd exhausted the topic of dancing.
"I know a couple of guys," he answers slowly. "You want to live on the water?"
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"I suppose," he agrees with a little shrug. "I'll give you some names and suggestions for which docks are fairly comfortable to live on. Some of them can be a bit... rough."
Ulysse will probably end up asking Midnight and Grey if there's any space in their area, because at least then he can be sure Rook won't be on his own and getting jumped by Anton's ilk.
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