Rosalia was worried, in contrast. It felt wrong. None of this made sense. It was almost like she was dreaming but it didn't feel like dreaming.

She followed along behind him, though, glancing up at the people who looked up when they came in. They seemed mildly interested in the strange turtle boy, but not hostile or afraid. Weirder and weirder.

And the menu...no soy anything. Coffee instead of soykaf. Offered at the prices her parents would buy soykaf. The only soy on the menu was the option of soymilk instead of regular, offered as a footnote. Sure, this place was obviously richer than where she came from but this...these prices weren't for the rich. Not to mention not only being able to read the menu as if she knew the language, but understanding the value of the currency like she'd grown up with it instead of nuyen.

She fell into step beside him so she could whisper, "Michelangelo, this is weird. All this food is expensive stuff but they're selling it so cheap. Something's not right here, and it's making me really scared."

There. She admitted it. She's afraid of this weird place. It gives her the creeps.