Rivera looked a little crestfallen. "I'm sorry... I don't mean to cause you any trouble... I mean... it's just..." She trailed off, unable to find just the right words for the situation. Rivera was never a person of strong words, nor a person of much action. She was more of a person that would sit around and think all day of the most random little details, ignoring the big world for the solace of her surrealities. It seemed now that she would no longer have to live in an imaginary world. Kira seemed so much like a surreality that she didn't have to go anywhere for anything. He was all she--
"Oh god... That can't be right...?" She whispered to herself almost inaudibly. The ghost of a little girl drifted up to them, her fuzzy, blurred shape looking up at them. She dressed in the style of the russians, circa 1750 or so.
"Are you visitors? Do you need anything?"
