[ Roman's about to talk about some severely depressing shit: he can still feel the sting on his cheek, not from the slap but it's the way his father( not his father) had spread it just to see if he'd cry that hurts the most. Still, in a weird way it's the most normal he's felt for a while, especially during this fucked up flood.

He's shit at entertaining guests that aren't business deals of some sort, he can barely handle family over, but Angelo's just crazy enough that he hadn't even hesitated. The other's firmly in the same category as a few other people he's come to actually like: he's too weird to worry too much about offending but not weird enough to be genuinely concerning. On the barge's sliding spectrum of weird, with Doug Eiffel on one end and Misty Quigley being on the other, Angelo fits a little closer to Eiffel at the moment.

Roman opens the door and half-waves. ]

Come on in, ya fucking sadsack. [ It makes two of them. ] I'm down to the last of the whiskey so if you spill any I get to crush your balls, okay?