Yeah--guess the cuisine ain't bad compared to what you mighta had at home. [ He's, uh. Some of it, he's not wild about. Pity she missed real coffee when she jumped from zombie hell to the future. Good liquor. Minimal crickets-as-protein meals.

Asking about the how'd-you-get-here reminds him that they are outside Red Wings, mostly around people they don't wanna sound like Displaced in front of. How loud's he been? Not too loud, he doesn't think. Still, he's careful to keep it a little quiet as he explains. ]

Worse. He went missing, went somewhere else, showed up here, and now here I am. [ The "somewhere else," he still doesn't have a great picture of, but it sounds like it sucked. ] Whoever's doing this, time doesn't mean much to them. Pulling people from everywhere and when they can get their hands on.