[What are you listening to? Ghoul slowly settles into the touch, letting Party work him through it. Remember the sun? Remember the sand and the heat of the dry, desert air, the feeling of being in the trans am with all of them, all five, windows down and shouting along with the music. No emergencies, just them, just...

Ghoul brings his arms up and wraps them around Party's shoulders, pulling him close, body to body pressed together.] Somethin' old. Somethin' - s-somethin' Jet likes. The folksy guitar stuff. [ It reminds him of Jet, who is soothing in turn. ]