The laugh that comes out of his mouth is unexpected, even to Caspar. "Roast marshmallows? Is that a thing here?" How easy to imagine his girlfriend teaching such a sweet, human activity to her alien friend. "She must have been so happy, it's not like we could do that on the Chiron... and oh, yeah. Ambrosia. She's told me about it, it's a popular dish on Leonis..."

One she can't have again, not the way her mother made it. The guilt gnaws at him, harder to stifle this time. It wasn't his decision to blow up the Colonies, he reminds himself. He didn't even know he was a Cylon this time.

The café is a welcome distraction. It seems nice enough anyway. He pays no mind to the lantern, either. His mind is different from a human's, but not bent towards the supernatural. "Cylons don't need to eat or sleep as much as humans," he explains as he steps inside. "It makes it more important for me to enjoy it."