[i][color=lavender]‘[/color][b]That’s ‘cause deep down you don’t wanna leave.[/b][color=lavender]’[/color][/i]

[color=lavender]That was... ridiculous. And unhelpful. And, as ridiculously unhelpful as the server’s answer was, there was the oddest ache in Teresa’s chest, like a wound that wouldn’t hurt unless someone called it out. For a brief moment, Teresa had the faintest impression of [i]something[/i] pressing her to stay.

[i]Get a hold of yourself. You’re imagining things that aren’t there.[/i]

Still, what option did she have? This place was clearly not in the realm of normality, not if the softly shifting shadows and the fuzzy, warped edges the furniture seemed to have were any indication. The possibility that Arts’ weapon [i]did[/i] hit her was growing likelier by the minute. She might not be dead, but she didn’t have to be for it to be so. The mad man dabbled in soul magic; messed up mental landscapes were not out of the question. Her gaze shifted over to the girl in the armchair, who seemed increasingly uncomfortable. Did that mean the other people here were victims of his, too?

[i]He [/i]was[i] studying Desire[/i], thought Teresa, grimly. [i]There’s no better way to do that than ripping it right out of people’s hearts.[/i]

She would play along. See where that got her. When the time came, she’d get everyone out of here. Decision made, Teresa sat herself at the bar.

‘[b]You mentioned catharsis[/b],’ she said to the server. ‘[b]How, exactly, would being here achieve that?[/b]’[/color]