The best part of the Nexus is also the worst part of it: There's too much variety. Like, way too much. It makes buying a gift for a friend – some dried tea leaves, in this case – a real expedition. Today Harrowheart finds himself trawling cafés, landing at this one in particular. It's quaint, it's cozy, it's the kind of place he'd want to recommend to friends if he can remember how to get back here.

One of his severed, magically floating hands grabs a tin of tea off the shelves and begins to inspect it when he notices the new woman who takes a tentative seat nearby. The way she looks around, the uncertainty of her actions... She seems new. And what a nice distraction it would be to meet a stranger!

Harrowheart invites himself to sit nearby her, grinning as he does. Unlike most of the relatively-normal looking people here he looks... Dead. There's the hands, for one, but there's the everything else, too. Veiny blue skin, glowing blue eyes, and a vague aura of coldness that surrounds him.

"What're ya drinkin'?" he asks.