Softly chuckling at his answer, Kyle's eyes stopped searching Taylor, simply returning a friendly gaze. "I appreciate the clear answers. Seems like you prefer an active approach as well, so hope this talk didn't bother you much. My line of work seeps into social settings, too, so people usually anticipate a fight." Looking around the room, Kyle glances over the spectators, lingering briefly on a lone athlete before continuing, "If they're hoping for a fight though, they're idiots. They should just start one themselves."<br/><br/>As those words hung in the air, he faced Taylor one last time, "I'll be getting back to my drink. Feel free to join me if you get bored." But as he started back to the bar, smiling from his encounter, a strange man drew all eyes to himself, including Kyle's. After declaring himself the host, and presenting boxes to several guests, Kyle briefly stared at the box before flicking it open. In a flash, he felt his heading swirling, quickly taking a knee as an agonizing sensation washed over him. It was as if his current self was being drowned out by the hopes, dreams, and echoes of other lives - his identity swiftly fading into oblivion. But as the eyes of his body fell on the name etched within the container, Kyle slowly floated back to the surface. Having broken out in a cold sweat, he took a few moments before raising himself off the ground, staring at his hands as if for the first time.