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You wake up in that same dorm bedroom, surrounded by trinkets and artifacts that hold no meaning to you as a Visitor. You slowly roll out of bed, collecting yourself and reach for the doorhandle. When you pull it open, you see not the interior of the Ark that brought you across galaxies, but instead the shabby wooden interior styled like an old western saloon of a bygone era. You notice your hand rests not on a doorhandle but a batwing door which swings wide as you step forward. A look back reveals that the spacecraft you once came from is long gone. You are here now, wherever that may be. A jukebox plays a static-filled tune, filling the silence of the bar. Chairs stay upended on tables, the bar is closed, yet you get the feeling that an exception will be made for you. So you approach, the sound of boot on wooden floor an unfamiliarity to get used to. You take a seat mechanically at the bar and take a long look at the bartender with their back to you. "I have nothing left to say to you, so you best be on your way Zer-" They turn around and take you in, cautiously at first, but its quickly swallowed up by a saccharine smile. "Sorry there friend, thought you were a regular of mine. How about we open up a new tab and talk a little, first rounds on me." They, without your asking, mix and pour you a drink and slide it down the bar. You eye it warily, you have no need for fluids, so the gesture is a bit redudant .