"I mean I can keep calling you that if you prefer it," he says, guessing the actual meaning from Bodhi's reaction. The list of people who might notice him missing is growing, and he's glad of it. This place had been something to put in compartments and barely deal with when he arrived, and it hadn't felt very ugly until he walked in the doors of the hall and watched the number of people welcome Credence home, only a couple of them even knowing his name.

Bodhi's isn't familiar, but the face still is. He's seen those eyes before, he's heard that voice. "Did we meet, before," he asks, squinting a bit like he's getting a second, third, or fourth look. "Sorry, if we did, my memory--isn't great. This kind of helps," he adds, indicating the sketch pad with a sweep of his pencil.