[right][h2][color=999999]Lost in Translation[/color][/h2][@Tlazolteotl][@silver21][@Stanifly][/right]


Morgan presses his lips into a fine line as he watches Sirpa and Teresa interact with the man. He couldn't speak, seemed to give up on even trying to communicate non-verbally at that; just drowned himself whatever he was drinking. Interesting. And a tough case. At least his other companions seemed to be in good spirits; they could handle a few minutes without him watching. He walks away from the group and heads over to the bar. 

He raises a robotic hand to call over a bartender. [color=brown]"Gimme two shots of whatever's the best 'ere."[/color]

[color=brown]"For me and a,"[/color] he lets the last syllable hang, heavy with uncertainty, [color=brown]"a new friend."[/color]

Well, [i]friend[/i] was a strong word, but it sounded better than saying [i]'stranger who's mind palace we got pulled into'.[/i]