"We are supposed to meet here."

Right. This guy is nnot going to meet his cousin tonight. The question Naomi's concerned with is how long it'll take for him to decide to go home.

"Do they know where you're supposed to be? Like, the name of the bar? Have you tried contacting them?"

"Oh, yes. He was the one that gave me directions. And I tried to contact them, but my phone has no signals."

"Maybe you went to the wrong place. Sometimes I don't follow directions correctly even when they're right there, you could have done that."

This rarely ever happens in her world because directions are virtual reality. But, well. It has happened. A couple times. 

"I triple checked and it's not like there are other places in this city-block that could host a party."

Naomi's getting increasingly frustrated. 

"What was the, hm. What was the name of the place you were supposed to go?"

"Milliways..." Henry says slowly, like he is not understanding her question.

.... huh. Naomi asks bar for a smaller cup, pours in some Acid, and thinks. 

She has a few options. She could wash her hands of this guy, who somehow managed to make his way to Milliways, know that the bar is called Milliways, and aggressively fail to realize its interdimensional nature. Or she could dispense with her oblique questioning and be direct, but what kind of result would that have? She doesn't know if the bar's lights normally go off when a drink appears, but she's seen some appear for other patrons -- out of Henry's line of sight. Tricking him into the Matrix wouldn't work unless she escalated. And she doesn't particularly want to. Henry's, er, not her type. 

Well. She'll shelve those thoughts for now. More light banter is on the menu while she finds more information.

"What kinda party's supposed to happen?"

"Just a typical Halloween party? I don't think you have to append 'costumed' to those kind of parties, but I guess it counts as a costumed party?"

"Aaaand do you know anyone else who's supposed to attend?"

"A few of my cousin's friends that told us about this place. Don't recognize anyone, but my cousin is a art major so they're probably some of the more elaborate costumes."

Henry says this and waves to a warrior Orc that is looking at his surroundings very bewildered.

"So, other than staying in character, how do people react to you, ah, complimenting their commitment? Are they angry? Happy? Confused?"

"Well... mostly confused, often angry because I was rude and that is the in character reaction... Why do you ask?"

"I'm just wondering why you don't, er, play along."

"Ah... I just made a poor costume decision? I thought the Riddler looked nice, but I don't know that much about him."

"What kind of costume would you prefer? I could make you one."

"Uh, thank you? But we're in the middle of the party already."

"I don't care. Pick something."

"Superman? Batman? Albert Einstein?"

Batman; easy. 

Naomi's still in VR. To the naked eye, she'll look vaguely transparent -- like a ghost, flickering like a projection, motes of light dancing around her body. The cape and cowl she's making will look similar. She takes something out of her pocket -- a piece of fabric, it looks like -- and, over the course of several seconds, it shifts into a dark Batman costume, meant to be put on over clothing. 

"Oh, my god, that is so cool! How did you do that?"

"I'm not actually here! Milliways has a virtual reality installation. My body is passed out unconscious in my panic room."

"No, I mean, seriously, how did you just do that?"

"I'm not lying to you."

Henry folds his arms.