[ not suspected butt texts for you today, instead just a grim-faced teen who looks like he needs to sleep. ]

Corvo Attano is gone.

[ and cut feed. ]

[ Simon comes into view unsmiling and still, standing framed by one of the unadorned walls of his room. ]

Those of you who aren't human. Or are more than only human. If you lie low, or pass, or hide—why? [ He's quiet, with an Irish accent and a cadence that's steady verging on mumbly, and intently focused. He's not uncomfortable, not fidgety or uncertain, but he isn't quite at ease, either, in front of a camera. He's only using video to make a display of his bloodless face and white eyes. ] Has something happened to you here? Or is it a habit you've carried from home?

We may not be in the minority, altogether.

[ That's less threatening than we could outnumber them, right? Right.

That's also the end of what he'd planned to say ahead of time; he shifts back from the screen, looks aside, and nearly disconnects before more occurs to him. ]

If you want to talk and don't trust this to stay private, I'm in room two hundred on the third floor. You can... [ Leave a note, he almost said, but he's yet to see paper or pens. He raises his eyebrows like a shrug. ] Paint your answer on the wall.

Or knock. I'll be here.

where's josh?

[ that's it that's the post. normally, she would make the obvious assumption, but since the jump was like 500% more freaky this time it seems to bear asking. ]