New York City, yeah. Brooklyn, I dunno. [ Andyr frowns, shaking his head for a second, trying to think back to stuff he learned six years ago, between the haze of everything that happened in Hapsburg and all he did in trying to take that part of himself apart and put it somewhere cold, somewhere safe. somewhere forgettable. eventually, he gives up, shrugging, and sets the shield aside on the spot steve was sitting in a moment ago, pulling his feet up on the edge of the bed instead, and leaning his chin on his knees. ] I've never been to East Coast. I hear they're stuck up.

[ Well, when all you get for your world view is stuff people in the South, particularly the less educated poor of the South, say about northerns, that happens. But Steve doesn't seem stuck up. Then again, Steve's not from his world, or at least his time, it seems. Maybe things are different. On the subject of what those cities are like, though, Andyr doesn't need to have been there to know. Not that. ]

Yeah. Whole world's like that. [ it's just what it is now. his eyes cast down, looking at the hem of the pants he'd borrowed from steve, and the outline of his toes underneath it. ] Except for Alaska and Gaza. I hear, at least. Never been. [ and he tries not to think about them much, now. he knows alva's family is in alaska, and they sent miray and avis there. it must be alright. mikal's plan is to retreat to gaza, after the hits on the new orleans houses. but that's if they get that far. if andyr leaves through it. if he doesn't just get himself killed in the raids pulling off a bombing or something for the sake of not being a big target on mikal's back. hope is a painful thing, for people like him. ]