[It's a good time to depart -- the feelios are a great impetus. Time frame, a detailed story, a lot of important details hadn't been established, but Solomon's a decent bullshit artist. He knows where to locate the worst of the worst as per the general order of his life. There's a rebuttal sitting on his tongue, something about how he should stop surrounding himself with filth...

But it's extra. He'll depart with a longing glance, his present tucked under an arm. Into the night he goes....



And it takes him probably like, a full half hour or more to arrive at the same destination. He's pinned close to the entryway as he's met with Takasugi's cycloptic gaze, then made focus by a handful of individuals.

This is worse than bar hopping with the Mad Max krew.]

..Ah.

[He'll spare some accusatory words later. Something about being stalked, something about Takasugi not trusting him. For now, he'll make his way to the group. Somehow, the hardwood flooring feels soggy beneath his feet; maybe a result of how saturated the air seems to be -- body odor and what, shit?]

To whom do I speak about [...is Taksugi using his real name with these people? They should have discussed a thing for sure.] the swamp creature? I watched this man, [A vague motion with his chin.] eliminate it. I've somewhere else to be, if that's all you need.