Horatio had had a Rough Month so far, and it wasn't getting much better. He was trying to take solace in one of the few rituals that month's shit show hadn't touched - updating the maps he gave out at the Lighthouse while mainlining black coffee. Then someone actually had to pipe up with what had to be, at least to their credit, the most unique Newbie question he'd heard in his year and a half tenure here.

"Fantasy? Oh yeah. There's a booth about two blocks down selling smoked yuppie legs."

The faerie's moth antennae gave a little twitch, the only other sign of his annoyance, as he shoved all his personal problems under a (very large) rug and remembered his station as one of the Lighthouse's more prominent members, and his service to the Fog. Right. This was bigger than him.

"Sorry. Been a rough week. ... Why don't you come and join me, this is gonna take a little time to explain. And I get the feeling you'll want one of these."

He kicked a chair out with his foot and tapped the map he was working on.