Roland snorts, corners of his lips drifting up a little. "There're other tastes, if you like a little fruit with your smoke. Or chocolate." Why? Because Panem, where the only question ever asked is 'why not'. And often not even that. "Found a place that sells it loose though, rolling papers too. Real paper. I'll show you some time."

The pattern of Alain's speech, though, did catch his attention and he continues on from there without waiting for a reply. "Is that what your machine does to your High Speech? Only stops your tongue? Mine makes me sound like a stuttering idiot, even in the simpler words like tha- th-th-than- thank you." He grimaces and shrugs a shoulder. "'s odd, having only the vulgate to speak in. And not even all of that. Some of the terms my own tongue's replaced with I've never heard in my life."