[right][h2][color=999999]Lost in Translation[/color][/h2][@silver21][@Stanifly][@Auragreedia][/right]
[color=808080]The man doesn't answer. Eyes closed, chin tilted slightly upward, he's submerged in the noise. Slowly, the hand keeping rhythm against his chest stills.

His eyes snap open. He turns to look at Sirpa, surprised to find her still there.

No one ever stays.

It takes another repeat of the question before he answers with a half-shrug that might've been a [i]maybe[/i] or a [i]I don't know[/i].[/color]

[hr]
[color=808080]Teresa finds nothing.

Or rather, she finds everything and none of it gets closer.

The walls are there. She can see them—dark panels interrupted by neon trim, exit signs glowing above doors that promise [i]somewhere else[/i]. But no matter how many steps she takes, the distance never shrinks. The doors remain exactly where they were. The walls stay fixed at the edge of her vision like a horizon that moves with her.

The crowd, too, never ends. Bodies press and shift and sway, an endless sea of movement that parts just enough to let her through before closing behind her. She could walk for hours and never reach the other side.

Around her, conversations drift past in fragments. Words. Sentences, even. But nothing connects. Each statement floats disconnected from the last, responses that don't respond, replies to questions no one asked. People talking [i]at[/i] each other. Not [i]with[/i].

The music pounds on.[/color]