[ Alisha, with her
mask, stares angrily at the camera, waiting for something to happen. When it doesn't (in the shape of Nathan's lanky form and his curly hair), she sighs in frustration and rolls her eyes. She is, actually, really freaking out over this. After what they did to the milk boy? Waking up in a strange place and watching a network that
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This place is called Promenade. What's the last thing you remember?
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Why? What do you remember?
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You already told me about him. Me. ...Him.
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[ So she dodges it for just a moment, hoping she can somehow collect herself and form some bullshit answer just in case ] Is there ... Is this thing - can people, you know, see what we're doing or hear what we are saying? It's not just you and me in this place, right?
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People can. We can filter it, too. Or talk in person.
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[ And because she feels like he's doing a lot of the work here, what with travelling and all, and she's feeling a bit slack on her end ] Did you want me to wait outside or something?
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