Tonight was one of the most piss-boring nights of Patrick's life. Of this, he was sure. There was a grand total of nothing to do, and so he'd taken to wandering, as he so often did. Not far, of course. Just far enough to clear his head, and then he'd turn back to the theatre, he decided. Perhaps grab himself a drink before heading back home. A nightcap of sorts. He'd considered finding a lady, wooing her home with him and getting himself up her skirt, but right then? He honestly couldn't be bothered, and Patrick Byrne not being bothered to find a lady said a hell of a lot about his mood.
However, there were exceptions to this rule. Two exceptions, named Delia Slater and Mary Roper. The sight of them, scurrying down the street, excited over one thing or another and clearly a bit tipsy... well, he'd be a fool not to try his luck. Perhaps he could take advantage of their tipsiness and excitement and proposition them with one of his little ideas... clearing his throat, he crossed the street, coming up behind them and leaning in.
"Good evenin', ladies. You seem to be having a blast over here, all by your lonesome. Wouldn't object to a little male company, would you?" He gave them his best smile, charming and genuine, hoping they wouldn't be the vicious bitches they normally were tonight.