<span style="font-size: 15px">Desmond found that he wasn't exactly the best voyeur for such affairs. He drifted from the window and walked his way back to the bar. There, he would sit, hearing the errant screams and would reach over to fetch a bottle for himself, settling it upon the bar and then reaching over to take up another glass. He had some moderation, and would fill the glass with the whiskey. <br/>
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"What a job..." He grunted softly, beginning to drink again. </span>