Another exhausting upheaval in the span of three years but this one took a toll on him further than any long drive could have. No, it was a fourteen hour flight, not counting the multiple delays and issues that planes nearly ALWAYS had. He hated flying and the last time he did it he SWORE it would be his last; he swore a lot of things that always worked against him…
Mmm, give it a matter of time and all that would change. He had patience, after all. Japan was already undergoing its own new birth, the fog would soon move over every inch of it and with time it would no longer resemble what it once was. This soothed him even when a baby began crying in one of the seats nearby… Yet, he still had to wonder what fucker brought a baby onto a plane.
His new location, FOR NOW apparently, was in an area called ‘Maple Bay’ in Massachusetts and while it wasn’t like INABA where the biggest entertainment was the only large shopping center it still wasn’t quite a blooming city like Shibuya. He was ready to graduate back to the city already but… Due time, he reminded himself. He decided THIS was his real new start. No more pretending, no more wasting his potential; the world was gonna end with time so he might as well not waste his energy playing the goofy detective and HAVE A LITTLE FUN until everything came to a halt.
At least, he would when he started working. For now with the few items he brought with him tossed into the front door of the living space of his new apartment he was off with his phone leading him to the nearest bar. He could check out his ‘brand new’ apartment later, he was sure the inside wouldn’t differ too much from the other two he lived in back in Inaba and Shibuya. His things wouldn’t be arriving until tomorrow anyway so he had nothing to do but kill time instead of sleep on the empty floor, it was always a little disturbing doing that without being at least intoxicated enough to pass out.
He’s moved enough times to know that.
Finally arriving at the place (Jim and Kim’s? Pretty okay joke, it got a chuckle out of him) he takes a seat immediately at the bar, taking only the quickest glances at his surroundings. It’s a weekday so he can’t expect it to be too crowded and honestly, after his flight he APPRECIATES IT.
He takes a seat at the bar holding up a hand to show he’s already set to go, “Whatever cheapest beer you have, thanks.” And it drops back to the counter. The best thing about bartenders was they never expected you to make it complicated. He didn’t even like beer much, especially the cheap stuff, but it did its magic just fine and he had to watch his pocket book so… Cheap beer it was.
Day after day passed by as always, in the bar, out of the bar, disappear for a few days just to end up back at Jim and Kim’s ( yet again ) and pass out the second he enters his house. He never had to say where he went, he never had to explain to anyone that he needed to leave, he was just gone and nobody would question it or wonder. Or if they did, they knew he’d come back. He always came back, after all, what was out there for him anyways? What would be do if he caught a cryptid? He wouldn’t be stupid enough to go out and die somewhere, anyone could assume.
As usual, night after night as always he found himself in the little bar, tucked in his barstool on the corner, occasionally chatting with Neil ( the barkeeper, swell guy ), but for the most part, keeping to himself in gruff silence as he sipped on his drink. Per usual, whiskey, on the rocks. Typically, he wasn’t the type to discuss much with other patrons. He knew the majority of them and didn’t care about the rest, as it would be most weeknights, the majority of the few patrons were regulars, drunks and deadbeats distracting themselves from whatever was happening in their lives, drinking instead of letting their depression eat away at them.
At least that’s what Robert assumed everyone else was here for.
His brow raised when this strange man had walked in. He seemed pretty average, but looked out of place, as if he’d just come into town and was still trying to figure things out. It was rare to see newcomers here, especially in such a hole-of-a-wall of a place.
Once he sees the other’s settled, Neil having served the other his drink, he’d make his move, standing from his seat in favor of walking over, sitting just a booth away from Adachi, drink set upon the worn-in tabletop. If Mary had been here, she’d of already been all over him. Fresh meat always tended to be the EASIEST to snag a drink from. He would proceed to take a moment to scope out his new ( involuntary ) drinking partner, one brow raised. Cheap beer? THAT shit in particular sucked-- Robert would know.
❝New to the area?❞ he finally speaks, voice gruff and raw, and he had to take a moment to decide if it were from his lack of speaking, or how good the alcohol burned going down. ❝If you know what’s good for ya, you shouldn’t drink that shit. Tastes like someone just ground up a bunch of hops and somehow made them taste WORSE. You like whiskey? Neil, two more shots of whiskey, it’s on ME.❞ Neil nods, this wouldn’t of been the first time Robert had done this, even with how little he actually SPOKE to people in the first place.
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