East Texas, that's a place he knows. He knows nothing about ships or stars or whatever this is, that's so sleek and gently-lit, where no one seems to be playing cards and the girls are wearing the same strange skin-tight get-up as the fellas (he wants to stare at one, is made vaguely uncomfortable by the other, and ends up just looking back out the window again), but he knows East Texas, so that gets a nod, and as she relaxes, he does, too. A little.

He can't really answer her question, though; even crinkling his face up in thought doesn't really help all that much. There was a bar with rooms upstairs, and he'd planned to take the top one, with the best vantage point of the street, and he'd somehow walked in here, instead, but try as he might he can't figure the moment between old creaky wood under his boots and this tasteful carpet and tile. Was there a flash of light, or did the door just open here? "Not sure."

He half-turns again, to look around. "You?"