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The manβ€”Westbound, now, it seemsβ€”nods at Morgan's suggestion. It isn't as if he could stop them. And it is infinitely better than being someone without a name.

A no one.

His expression darkens, gaze drifting somewhere past the noise and the writhing crowd, into a private memory. A familiar ache given shape. It holds him for only a moment before Teresa cuts through.

The steel in her voice is sharper now, colder for the contrast against her earlier calm. Westbound flinches at the shift. His expression crumples, closer to shame, and he turns away from her entirely, unable or unwilling to meet her eyes.

He shakes his head.

No, he doesn't know what happens if the music stops. He has never tried to stop it. Has never even left this seat since he arrivedβ€”just... settled into the background. Melted into it. It was easier that way.

Out there, no one ever cared about him.

In here, he could still be part of something, even from the edges.
What's Pokka green tea?

My guess is that Pokka is a brand.

@Stanifly As far as I can tell, green tea's perfectly acceptable for hydration and has relatively low amounts of caffeine. Are you sensitive to caffeine?

On another note, are any effects from drinking the served drinks open to our interpretation? I'm assuming that just bc they're in glasses guys' catharsis, that their own catharsis isn't immune from being worked on in the meantime.


@Stanifly @silver21 @Auragreedia For this one, I'll leave it up to you if you want the drinks to have some kind of effect on your characters. So yes, it's open to your interpretation 😁

@BaronOBeefDip Makes sense! I personally really like snow, but not to much when it melts and becomes ice---Oh, but depending on where the ice is I can semi-skate, so that's kind of fun πŸ˜†
<Snipped quote by Tlazolteotl>

HA! Knew it. (I did not, in fact, know it.)


We've been pretty spot on with our guesses (me with Teresa, you with the guy with the glasses), I think we just work on the same wavelength πŸ˜‚

@Stanifly Oh darn, sorry to hear that. Please rest up, don't forget to take your fluids.

@BaronOBeefDip Do you like the snow?


A small smile tugs at the man's face, strained at the edges. Brows drawn up and together.

He reaches into his coat and produces a small notepad. It's a cheap thing, pocket-sized, plastic cover scratched and slightly warped. As he flips through the pages, brief glimpses of ink flash by: a half-finished sketch here, a margin crowded with tiny words there, doodles tangled with what might have been phone numbers or grocery lists.

The man finds a blank page, pulls a pen from the same pocket, and clicks the top. Writes. Turns the notepad around.

My name is the refrigerator owes me an apology.

Each word legible. Handwriting neat enough. But strung together, they collapse into meaningless nonsense.

He lets them look, then pulls out his smartphone and thumbs open a notes app. A few tapped words, and he turns the screen toward the group.

Pleasant to treadmill you, I'm called westbound.
Well, I can add "GIF of a man dancing in a kilt" to the list of things I never thought I'd see.


Isn't the internet a magical place? πŸ˜‚

That really is good timing! Do you get snow storms where you live often?

Even though I'm going to be moving in a few months, I gave in and decided to buy a new blanket cause it's... just way too cold at night πŸ₯Ά
Hint: @Stanifly Teresa's on to something about the music
@silver21 Thanks for the rec! I'll add it to the list

@Auragreedia It's no problem! Getting slammed at work?

@Stanifly You're very welcome, let me know if you end up like any of them, I point out some more 😁 (I'll also keep an eye out for Malay)

... but there's just something so satisfying about reading grammars.

On the flip side, is it frustrating to see bad grammar? ... Cause I may be guilty of that πŸ˜‚

Is there not that many people specialized in the Malay language family? Why's that?


Survived the presentation 😭


The man looks at Sirpa. His mouth opens, closes. He looks down at his hands. Back up at her. At Morgan. At Teresa. Something uncertain passes over his face.

A glass hits the table with a clinkβ€”whiskey, neat, amber in the light. Another follows, something pale with a silver shimmer swirling through it. A third, lavender and fizzing, a lemon slice on the rim. The employee sets the last in front of the man: dark, still, swallowing light.

"Way I see it," she says, "what's there to lose? Either nothing changes and you stay here, or something does. And maybe you won't need this place anymore."

He stares at the drink. Then, slowly, looks up.

A nod from the one without a voiceβ€”or is it that no one's listening? Small, hesitant, but there.

The track ends. Another beginsβ€”just as loud, just as relentless, though not quite the same.

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