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Something the kid had just said caught his interest. "Dante? Do you mean the guy they say is Davy Jones' brother or something?" August looked past the girl for the first time and noticed a man laying on a bench. What was it he had heard the other day? Something about a bunch of people dying and this guy was involved. Dante and dead people....

'Oh! Someone must have wiped out his crew, that's why he's looking for a new one. Poor guy.' August concluded. Maybe he could cheer the captain up. He staggered to the bench, completely forgetting about the kid.

"Dante! How are you -hic- holding up? I heard 'bout what happened, sorry 'bout yer crew and everything. How about a drink to lift your spirits?" With a kind-hearted chuckle, August pulled out the second bottle of spirits from his jacket. "It's rum! ... At least, I think it's rum...-hic-"

At Dante's reply, August shrugged. "Suit yer self. I personally cannot live with out a hardy drink in my system." He sat down next to Dante, although it looked more like he fell onto the bench rather than purposefully placed his rump there. "How did you end up with that li'l bugger chasing you around?" August asked pointing to the kid with the umbrella. His attention was once again on the girl since she was in his line of vision and he decided it might be best to drop the subject of the crew for a bit. Dante was probably very upset at the thought of his lost crew mates. "Seems a bit young to be followin' a man with your reputation, doesn't she?"

"Pirate Princess? That's a new one." August was silent for a moment. The rain felt refreshing on his pudgy form, he couldn't remember the last time he showered. He took another swig of his beer. That little girl was still stomping around. She didn't seem to be doing much and August was starting to feel a bit bored. Then he had a brilliant idea.

"Hey, squirt! C'm here!" He stood and walk over to her, quickly taking her little hands in his. "Let's dance, huh? Girly's like to dance, right? Twirly twirly, la la da dee!" He laughed has he spun her around really quick, she was so light! "Dante, come dance with us!"

After a few spins, the girl started feeling like a lead weight. After a few more, August couldn't move her at all. "For a shrimp, you sure weigh a lot. Do you eat too much or somethin'? Maybe you need to go on a diet." He laughed at the thought. "What's yer name, anyway? I been here talkin with ya and I don't even know what to call you aside from small fry!"

August took another swig from his bottle, he was almost through this one. He wondered how well stocked pirate ships were...

"Weak, I am not!" August proclaimed as he thrust his bottle high into the air. The forward motion caused the rest of his unsteady body to fall backward, right on his rather plump behind. Thankfully, he managed to protect his bottle of beer and drank a bit before lying back on the street.

He chuckled a bit. "My name, feisty little one, is August. August O'Brian, or perhaps it was August MacArthur. Somethin' along those lines. Ya stop keeping track after a while." He gazed at the stars overhead, probably only seeing half of them with his beer goggles on. "Whata doin' here, Lexi?"

"Ay! That's a tad mean, don't cha think? I can do more than drink!" August sat up with some difficulty and pulled a gun out of one of his pockets. He waved it around for the girl to see. "Know what this is, Li'l Lexi? It's a pistol. One of a kind, passed down through me family. If there is one thing I do remember is that I know how to use this baby." August glanced around, looking for a target. There were plenty of bottles on the street but he just couldn't risk spilling their precious contents.

"Thar! Look over thar at that man with the bag." He pointed to a man with curly dark hair carrying a satchel over his shoulder walking a fair distance away. August took pointed his weapon at the bag and fired. The bottom of the back split open, causing the contents to spill out onto the wet ground. The bullet had run through the bottom seams of the bag! August laughed as the man scrambled to save his belongings. "How's that -Hic- for useless?"