"Well, I dunno 'ze name- like, 'ze actual name I mean, 'ze one that shows up on all the charteurs and stuff. Everyone who lives 'zere just uhm- calls it Spoke. Like, 'ze wheel, not 'ze verb."
She blinks a few times, before bringing out frosted donut and munching on it idly.
"Anyways, I grew up ...

Erie seems entranced in the music, and a mix of her own thoughts. She processes that someone asked her something about a half-minute later.
She apologizes profusely, then starts to answer.
"I 'zink i was young-ish... It was just me and dad- I was like, four.
We round a corneur- And boom! 'uman. Now ...

Erie's eyes dart around in a panic, before she seems to resign herself to the secret-telling.
She begins, voice shaky.
"Okay, deepest secret. It's, uhm- I-"
She blinks a few times, before her voice and posture straighten.
"I always say 'ze first 'zing I uhm, remembeur is being in some blankets in ...

"Uhm. I've 'ad-d my cane stolen a lot of times in a row. I 'z-zin-nk-k, if it got taken by someone any more tim-mes, I'd-"
Erie fairwether stops herself. Her head turns towards the floor, empty sockets now hidden by tufts of unkempt hair.
"Whateveur I would do, it would be so 'zey can't-t 'urt me ...

There are three Erie Fairweathers, categorically speaking

This is Erie.
https://i.postimg.cc/FkFfpMkz/20260309102225_1.jpg
"'Zank you so much misteur captain! You're 'ze best."
-Erie Fairweather, when told she would be promoted from Service Worker to Bartender.
She has memory problems ...