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

[color=lavender]Sirpa didn’t answer her question. She did, however, start conversing with Westbound with renewed vigour. Nothing she said made any sense but it didn’t change the way he looked at her with newfound understanding. Something about the nonsense she spoke was reaching him in ways that Teresa and Morgan couldn’t understand. Teresa eyed her drink.

The silver raised itself out of liquid containment. It was a spire that curled in the air, silver stripped away to reveal dull grey, and reached toward Teresa. Drooped towards her chest. Her heart ached, even though all her wounds had long healed since she’d arrived here, even though Arts’ shot had never met its mark.

For the first time in this unknown place, Teresa felt fear for herself.

She immediately hated herself for it. A cowardly hero wasn’t a hero at all. A hero who couldn’t help someone, who couldn’t help [i]herself[/i], was of no help to others. Morgan had been less than pleased with her inimical approach to Westbound’s problem, but it had been necessary; the man clearly wasn’t about to face his devils without someone dragging him along. That was just the way things were – heroes were supposed to be the answer to the problems civilians brought onto themselves.

[i]Eri scoffed. ‘[/i][/color][color=indianred][i][b]And you seriously believe that?[/b][/i][/color][color=lavender][i]’[/i]

The silver shimmered in her drink. The waitress had returned. As Teresa blinked back up at them, Sirpa made to move Westbound back onto the dance floor. Morgan was speaking to her.

‘[b]There’s no need to look around[/b],’ said Teresa. The waitress’ words lingered. She rose from her seat, gripped the hilt of her sword. ‘[b]If the waitress is right, then we’ll find what we need to find. And I intend to stop the music, through whatever means necessary.[/b]’

It was for Westbound’s own good. It was for [i]all[/i] of their own good. If he wanted to stick his head in the sand and pretend that everything was fine, he could do that in his own time without dragging the people around him down with him.

Decision made, Teresa moved not into the throng of dancing people, but along the outskirts of the crowd, towards the venue’s west side. She glanced at the speakers dotting the wall, ever distant.

[i]A destination in mind, huh? Fine. Show me, then. Whatever drowns this man’s soul in endless, gratifying noise.[/i] The grip on her sword hilt tightened. [i]Show me where the music comes from.[/i]

Dulled silver lay at the bottom of her abandoned drink.[/color]

[center][color=808080]━━━━━━ ◈ ━━━━━━[/color][/center]
[right][@Tlazolteotl][@silver21][@Auragreedia][/right]
[hider=In This Catharsis][color=lavender]
[list][*] The silver rising out of Silver Blade’s drink is visible only to herself. Everyone else probably perceives it as her staring at her (very normal) drink or something equally mundane.[/list]
[/color][/hider]

[hr][hr]
[right][h2][color=#7ece73]Vicis’ Catharsis[/color][/h2][@Tlazolteotl][@spiral origin][/right]

[color=7ece73]The mention of [i]wyrm egg[/i] in an otherwise delightfully exotic menu made Vicis’ growing grin falter.

‘[b]Wyrm egg?[/b]’ he repeated, reeling in disgust. ‘[b]What self-respecting wyrm would eat their own young?[/b]’ He peeked another look at the two elder wyrms he had spotted earlier. They did not seem to be indulging in the cannibalism the light had suggested, but for them to be here at all, knowing of this particular local delicacy... ‘[b]I shall pass on [i]that[/i].[/b]’

Admittedly, the rest of the menu was a fair bit tempting. Perhaps he could overlook this light entity’s transgressions on his kin this one time. In the name of research. Yes.

‘[b]I will have the cherub cheeks, if you please. And perhaps some of that crystallised déjà vu, afterward.[/b]’

He had been seeking a pick-me-up, after all. If the scrumptious, sweet fat of fearful villagers was not what fate sought to offer him today, he would settle for seared... cherub. Whatever that may be. That peppercorn did sound appetising. He gave the pleasant light a slight nod in thanks.

As he waited for his food, he found his attention drifting to the silver-haired woman sat next to him. She, like all the other patrons in this mystifying place, did not seem to fear his presence. He leered at her, forked tongue flicking in greeting.

‘[b]Hello, human. Fancy yourself a daring adventurer, do you?[/b]’[/color]