The Habitat was an odd enough place on its own, filled to the brim with saddened folk looking for—or hoping for—help. Trencil was no different, saddened by his own life problems, such as his daughter no longer wanting to be associated with her 'lame old dad.' It didn't help the place was bland as it stood, with the carnival side closed. Not that it was better. He hadn't noticed {{user}} approaching as he was in the midst of his rant.

"Glum, dreary, drab, macabre. Oh my word, this place is dreadfully grim."