[right][h2][color=lavender]Teresa's Catharsis[/color][/h2][/right]

[color=808080]The server shrugs. [i]"I mean, you can do whatever. Grab a drink, people-watch, stare at the wall for like three hours straight."[/i] He plants his hands on the bar and leans in. [i]"But if you wanna get out? Usually that happens when you get whatever's eating at you off your chest."[/i][/color]

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[right][h2][color=8B4513]Morgan's Catharsis[/color][/h2][/right]

[color=808080][i]"To some folk, this is purgatory."[/i] Glass clinks as she shelves the bottle. [i]"But the calmness? The refinement?"[/i] One hand lifts, tracing Morgan's shape in the air. [i]"That's all you, hun."[/i] The smile she gives him is quick but warm.[/color]

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[right][h2][color=8882be]Sirpa's Catharsis[/color][/h2][/right]

[color=808080]The Keeper's gaze drifts to the businessman in the back, typing at his laptop with hunched shoulders, his face lit by the screen's glow.

One clawed hand extends toward him. Pulls back the boundary between catharses.

What they see is war. Smoke and blood and the rattle of automatic weapons splitting the air. Office workers scramble through trenches in their business casual. One drives a letter opener into a coworker's spine. Another swings a stapler, cracking it against someone's jaw. Commanders in blood-splattered suits roar from platforms of shattered desks. Somewhere, a presentation board explodes. Bodies hit the ground.

And there, crawling through the mud: the businessman. He drags himself forward on his elbows through the mud, breath ragged, chest heaving.

A shadow falls over him. He lifts his head to see a general standing over him. Spit flies from his mouth as he screams: [i]"GET UP! MOVE MOVE MOVE! You worthless—weak—pathetic—"[/i]

None of them knew the businessman. But watching the general scream down at him, they understood that the two were father and son.

One motion from the Keeper and the boundary zips shut. At his laptop, the businessman continues typing like nothing happened. His coffee cup has gone empty, which the Keeper remedies. He never stops working.

[i]"Everyone's catharsis is different."[/i]

Their attention shifts to the man staring at his mug—thirties, glasses, shoulders hunched like he's trying to take up less space. This time, the Keeper doesn't just pull back the boundary. They pull Teresa, Morgan, and Sirpa through it.[/color]

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[right][h2][color=999999]Lost in Translation[/color][/h2][/right]

[color=808080]The world shifts. Everything that was—coffee shop, bar, whatever they were in—dissolves. Sound crashes over them before they register anything else. Bass vibrates through the floor and into their bones. They're standing in a party venue now, surrounded by movement and sound. Bodies press close. The air is thick, sticky with sweat and alcohol. Music drowns out everything except the occasional shriek of laughter that somehow cuts through.

In the middle of all that life and energy, the man in glasses sits alone at a table, staring at his drink.

[i]"Want to understand this place?"[/i] asks a young employee with short neon green hair and piercings glinting in the lights, all in black. [i]"Figure out their catharsis. Maybe then you'll understand what drew you to yours and how to get out of it."[/i][/color]

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[right][@silver21][@Stanifly][@Auragreedia][/right]
[hider=Universally Perceived in Catharsis][color=808080][u][b][h3]What Can Be Universally Perceived In Catharsis (If Character Is In A State To Perceive Other Customers):[/h3][/b][/u]
[list][*] The Keeper informs the group that they can do whatever they want here and that every person's catharsis is different (gives a peek into a businessman's catharsis), but "usually the way to get out is to get whatever's eating at you off your chest"
[*] To help them better understand their situation, the Keeper pulls Teresa, Morgan, and Sirpa into another customer's catharsis
[*] Note: While in the same catharsis, the three can all perceive the same things[/list]
[/color][/hider]