Welcome to Gaia! ::

"That doesn't count," Jack complained. "I told you that ten seconds ago." By the sounds of it, Abbi was getting ready to fall asleep on him. So he took a few last minute photos of the clock tower as well as some selfies, pocketed his phone, and headed back out onto the street. There were still a few scant stores open with souvenirs, which he ducked in and out of surprisingly fast for a man carrying a drunk girl on his shoulders.

He said a few things along the way, pointing out several locations in case Abbi did end up remembering the night: the Old New Synagogue, the statue dedicated to Kafka (the cockroach barely made out at its feet), the Charles Bridge opposite them in the distance where lights bobbed and weaved. Probably a wedding party, he explained. Couples liked getting married in the church by the astronomical clock, timing it so that when tourists came for the hourly event, they had to witness the new bride and groom's happiness and join them in celebration. ******** narcissists, huh?

He let them get lost in the evening crowd for a moment, just to be immersed in a sea of sound and night air: Czech, Australian, Dutch, Japanese, English. Someone tried to grab his attention, get his or her name stitches into a handwoven blanket. He stuck out in the crowd and always had, even without green hair; for a moment, he wished he didn't.

Eventually Jack ducked into a narrow alleyway where the portal waited, and in seconds they were back on the humid, warmer island. "Let's get you home," he said as he nodded to the techs and exited the lighthouse.

"Your home," he answered with no regard to the deeper implications he knew she meant, "is #174, which we're almost at. Mine, of course, is #163. An even 10 if you add the numbers up." He made it sound like by that alone his room was innately better.

The cool air of the dorms felt almost physical after the humidity. "Did you have fun?" Jack asked with a glance up.

"Good, I'm glad." She was starting to slide a little, so he bumped her up. He smiled to himself, pleased. "I had fun, too. Beer, chatter, and lots of drunk photos of you as souvenirs to boot."

As they approached, he asked for her keys because he didn't trust Abbi to even make it to her bed without falling over. That, and he had a mild curiosity of what the Moon's room looked like; he didn't often visit people in their home space. One way or another he procured the key and let them in, making to sit on her bed so she could flop onto it.