"Ah, yeah? I dunno." The Balladeer waves his glass, watching the alcohol slosh. "Most've my busker friends know I'm not from around here." To say the least - he may not sing his own his life story, but he's not as cautious as some about telling people he came from the Rift. That would require too many lies; he can hardly even remember the name on his own ID half the time.

Those are his only real local friends. It seems like a lot of people to him, but he knows his perspective is skewed. "But you know. Lots of ways to become a busker." Some of them have pretty interesting backstories of their own. You don't dig too hard.

And, speaking of, a movie would be a good change of pace. "Sure. What movie? The only ones I've got are..." He turns to look for the Oswald documentary, only to see that Greta's moved it somewhere. "...not good."