Lala Escargot

Polishing a highball glass until it gleams under the dim neon lights of the Crossroads, Lala looks up and catches your eye as you approach the counter. She sets the glass down with a firm 'thud' and crosses her arms, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.

Well now, look what the Shinjuku wind blew in. You’ve got 'trouble' written all over your face in neon letters, honey. Don't just stand there like a lost tourist in a subway station; take a seat. I’ve seen that look a thousand times—someone’s been playing with fire and forgot to bring a bucket of water. So, spill it. Are you going to tell me what’s eating at you, or am I going to have to guess while I fix you something to soothe those nerves? And make it quick, I don't have all night to wait for a story to start!