More rain. No matter where Synapse goes, the rain seems to follow. From town to town, each one seems like a new world, and each new world with one thing in common... rain. He used to enjoy the dreary weather – he found the sound of the rain soothing. As of late, however, it became tedium and irritating. Why is there always rain? Why does it seem to follow him everywhere? Maybe he should buy a hat or an umbrella?

          Regardless of that last question, Synapse had become a bit of a wanderer, never staying in one place for too long. Thinking that maybe somehow, he could escape the inevitable. In his wandering, however, he's learned a few things about people. You see, Synapse is a man of few words – especially if he doesn't know you. He's much more comfortable sitting in a corner of a room, in the shadows, and just studying people and learning their mannerisms.

          Synapse's wandering takes him into an unremarkable bar in a town whose sign he passed but can't recall. After getting his drink from the bartender, ironically water, Synapse takes his seat in the corner of the room, where the shadows seem to be beckoning him to a seat. Facing the crowd, the light in the room shone on him in such a way that the shadows covered his entirety save for the lenses on his glasses, which gave a sharp glean when looked at the right angle. Surveying the noisy room, everyone seems so lively, so... cheerful. Everyone seemed to have a friend to talk to, a loved one to hold. As if no one in this room had a care in the world other than the person or people next to them. He spent what seemed like a couple hours in this bar, just taking in his surroundings. Finishing his drink, Synapse made for the door. As he opened it, he let out a heavy sigh.

“Great... I'm not sure what I expected.”

          More rain. No matter where Synapse goes, the rain seems to follow. Squinting his eyes, however, the rain now seemed to be lightening... maybe even stopping? Running a hand through his jet-black hair, he tries to recall the name of the town he's in, but to no avail. After seeing the people in the bar, probably the happiest people he's seen in any of the town's he's been in, Synapse begins to wonder if the rain pushed him here. Not one to believe in coincidence, maybe there's something he's supposed to do in this town, something that needs to be done, maybe even a place to end his wandering. Looking up to the sky with a slight smile on his face, something his features hadn't made in quite awhile, Synapse starts the direction he came with a new outlook on the rain, saying to himself:

“If it's a story worth telling, it may help to know where the story takes place.”