There's a laugh caught in his throat, a moment where he just kind of slots the man into the nebulous group of people he'd bounced between at school. People he never quite knew the minds or hearts of, but who kept him around for their own reasons. Goaded him into leaving his dorm, took him to the city, tried to help him shake off Hollow Creek a little more.

They failed, in the end, but he doesn't hold them at fault. He isn't sure what he holds this guy to when the subject dives back into arcane activity and shit he doesn't have any thoughts on. Some of it's, well--a little familiar. The words make sense, but it's--games, old books. Dumb shit he and Parker read up on for their comic. Nothing anyone would come from. He's accepted space travel as some future-achievement from Bodhi, but he doesn't want to think about magic.

The tattoo on his shoulder itches for it, and he doesn't think about that either. "It's pretty stupid," he agrees, having no opinion on the rest. "At least we're not paying rent, though."