[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/211023/2cdc119ab59a09bce01a9f2fb0e600cf.png[/img][/center][hr]It was time to board the trains and avoid... the travesty that had occurred in the ballroom. In truth, Kalil did not expect the dancing to go so [i]badly[/i] as it did but at least his new friend(?). As the night would go on ad his high faded, the Dhaka prodigy would only remember more details which would embarrass him to no end. The drugs, the singing, the dancing, oh [i]Allah[/i] the dancing was horrendous. It was full of missteps, tripping and desperate fumbling on his part. All in all, he would have difficulty trying to find the mindset to rest after such an eventful night. Cringeworthy, future students of his age would claim. A cringeworthy experience indeed.

But for now, the embarrassment was to the back of Kalil's skull, as another idea seemed to grasp at him during the train ride. There were two details missing from the night, two which itched his thinking mind. Who was Nazca? And who caused the bulbs to spark like it did? The former was difficult, as with women, there could be a myriad of different reasons as to why she was so [i]insistent[/i]. A stalker, perhaps? Or perhaps she was a cannibal? He went pale white at the thought.

She was a Briton, right? Did they not eat man meat? As a boy, he was always taught the savagery of the "Empire of Britannia". A small island with imperial ambitions but not even a tenth the size of Hindustan, expansionist pale-skins. Cannibalism seemed to fit the bill, the outer world always seemed so savage. But she was not as pale-skinned as his other British friend... Where did James go?!

In the drug-addled ramblings in his mind, Kalil had once again forgotten the latter topic in which he wished to think upon and stumbled into his new quarters with a piercing headache. The effects of drugs and alcohol seemed to flush out of his system very quickly but the pain always felt severe. It was in fact so bad that he completely missed the other occupant inside the room and almost missed how [i]lavish[/i] it was.

Well, in the Western style that is. As Kalil's vision spun while he laid down on the floor, he would see the vastness of the space that would be his and another unknown person's. To his taste, it was not as opulent or colourful as his own home before but it was leagues better than the hovels he had seen at the local universities in Dhaka. But at least add some colour here, this thing was so blindingly [i]white[/i]. His complaints would be said aloud, as chemically-altered people tend to do, perhaps making his new roommate uncomfortable or amused?

The prodigy of Dhaka would only know after a few minutes, with the world's spinning coming to a stop and the headache fading slowly. He sat up, bleary eyed and sore as he placed his miniature shisha pipe in the middle of living room, beckoning forward what he reckoned to be a person of his imaginations. He often smoked with ghosts, to combat the loneliness of his endeavours without his father.

[color=goldenrod]"Spirit, o come forth,"[/color] He slurred, slowly getting more coherent as he spoke. [color=goldenrod]"come partake in holy vapours."[/color] He smiled, hoping to calm the short spirit in front of him.

[@Yankee]