Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player--

It'd taken him a couple of hours of rest to get back to himself - more or less. Atton hadn't been unused to this kind of quiet before the past year, even if this was serving as something of a wake-up call to how much quiet he hadn't had even before waking up to the Force.

When poodoo like this happened, there was usually only one acceptable way to figure out what was going on: you had to go outside and see if anyone else was having this problem. So he wandered out of MCA once he was sure he didn't look like he'd been miserable and awake for most of the night, swung by the Perk to pick up a coffee, and then made his way into the park.

There was just something... off about everything. There were those weird-ass towers, for one, sure. But something also smelled different. The people he'd met on his way had largely seemed distant, standoffish, with something in their eyes that wasn't quite there. If he'd still had his connection to the Force, he'd be sure about it-- now he just had his instincts.

Or whatever was left of them.

He came to a stop by the duck pond, and peered up at the nearest tower.

"I have a bad feeling about this," he muttered.

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