The old man responds with a gruff [color=B152BF]"hmph"[/color] and reaches down to scratch the inside of his thigh. He seems quite overpacked for a simple two-week trip, a litany of suitcases flanking him on either side. How he got them there - and how he intends to get them up the stairs unaided - is anyone's guess.

Silence overtakes Tony's part of the line for a minute. Further up and also behind, groups of people engage in conversation about a number of topics.

[sup]"...I heard he was a former employee of the restaurant. Supposedly, the boss stiffed him on tips. Just goes to show tipping culture is toxic..."

"...need is one more win, and the Fortuna Knights head to the Super Bowl. Can you believe it, bro? Imagine what the view's gonna be like!"
"Yeah, but seats in the nosebleeds are so shit. If we want to enjoy ourselves, we need seats down near the field. I want to see..."

"...you hear about Lazaretto? Sounds like the guy really bit the curb in terms of his family. His own son doesn't even..."[/sup]

[color=B152BF]"God, I can't wait to get on the ship. I need to get in a pool, under an umbrella, something. Christ, this sun."[/color]

The stairs were closer now, close enough that Tony could see the bright, pearly smile of the concierge standing next to it.