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


[color=brown]"Now that ain't..."[/color] Morgan stumbles into silence as he pieces together the bits of information he has. None of this made any goddamn sense. The words, the people, what they said. None of it made a lick of sense. [color=brown]"Right, I, uh. Pardon my lack of cash, but it seems I can't afford of your drinks. 'Scuse me."[/color]

He removes himself from the bar, metal hands wiping dust from his pants. He adjusts his collar, blinks a bit. His catharsis wasn't anything like this, so why in the world was this stranger's catharsis so disjointed? 

He makes his way back to Sirpa and the man. They're still in the same place, that's good. Morgan pulls out a chair and sits near them.

[color=brown]"Other one left?"[/color] He scans the club for Teresa before realizing he never learned anyone's name. Whenever she rendezvoused back to this table, he'd ask. He extends a hand to both Sirpa and the man. [color=brown]"Pardon my untimely introduction, I'm Morgan."[/color]

Whether his hand is shaken or not, he continues. He addresses the man next. [color=brown]"This 'cartharsis' of yours, it's a mess. All gibberish, and you're the only guy that doesn't talk. Ain't trying to interrogate you or nothin', just makin' conversation."[/color]

[color=brown]"Wanted to buy you two a drink, but,"[/color] he pinches the bridge of his nose, [color=brown]"ain't nobody 'ere makes sense. Somethin' about cats in trees and car warranties, couldn't make squat out of it."[/color]

He could use another drink with all this chaos going around, but he'd rather abstain from [i]'Premium Shoelace Extract'[/i]. Whatever that is.