Whether by fortune, whimsy, or some hereto unseen plot of Harley's, Thomas was spared from grisly retribution and Kanbaru further relieved from being covered in his guts, as she held little doubt being buried against her breast would keep the offended party from taking out her ire in an immediate fashion. With her powers getting the blood out would be a cinch, but the smell has a tendency to permeate if the meat pinata erupts this close to oneself.
"Oh, so you calmed down, huh?" The JSTR host chirped, feeling how Thomas had forcibly quieted his struggles and now asked for release in a sensible manner showing he was actively containing himself. Which was good for all parties involved, even if Harley and Akiko had walked off leaving the two by their embarrassing lonesome among the throngs of casino goers.
"To answer some of those earlier questions, we are in Harley's Casino. It isn't part of the Tower, in fact, it's the complete opposite of the Tower. Entirely opposed faction to it, and not the kindest to those unaligned. Fortunately you sort of are in a roundabout sense. What with Marianne and all....by the way, when did you become the meat puppet for death itself? Eh, never mind. You can tell us about your love life later."
She waved aside concerns of possession, as the hypocrisy of calling him out on it would have chocked her to death on the spot. Though Kanbaru was reasonably certain no one had a parasite as adorable and agreeable as hers! With a nod to herself she beamed at Thomas, hands moving to smooth out his wrinkled lapels and tug his sleeves into place. "It's owned by that woman you were getting snippy with, and we seem to have gotten here when the entire Abyss floor collapsed and we got shunted out of the Tower. Think of this place like an embassy of sorts, unwanted by the Tower, but tolerated without retaliation. And we just fell across the fence."
A small part of Kanbaru acknowledged she hardly knew Thomas at all, but it was nostalgic to be laying down information for less informed juniors, drawing up images of the good ol' days. If she squinted she could almost see a familiar face. Then...a familiar voice. Once she opened her eyes a vague resemblence turned into a clear face.
Surprise. Disbelief. Her face went through a lot before setting on an outpouring of joy at seeing a fellow from the Detention Club standing before her, and before Apia had a chance to move two arms had enveloped her waist and hoisted her airborne, spinning her around the jubilant whale who had for once not buried someone in her cleavage.
"It's really you, Apia! Not data but the real Apia! This is wonderful!" Her cheers may have made her warnings to Thomas ring hollow, but a little hypocrisy could surely be forgiven in her excitement.