Reno hadn't heard this much Russian in a long time. He'd been there, naturally, as his job would take him just about anywhere -- but it was hardly a familiar place. He didn't understand all the words and the ones he did understand didn't seem to go together with the rest of whatever conversation was happening. It quickly became overwhelming.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling like he was severely hungover, as he sat up from... a padded booth? Was he in a diner? If he got drunk and passed out here, that tracked.

"Nu, ch... chto? Chto? Uhh, ya ne panimayu*..." he grumbled plaintively before opening his eyes and squinting up at...

No face.

Reno heaved himself back against the wall as far back into the booth as he could manage, staring in terror at the blank-faced "woman" thing. "Fuck! Th' fuck are you!" It was then, too, that he also noticed his bare knees and the strange childish sailor suit. "The fuck is this??"

[*"What? I don't understand."]