There's a trickle of blood that's dried down John's neck he doesn't seem to notice, matching his red scrubs as he picks at the communicator on his wrist. It won't come off and that's disconcerting. After his self-induced electrocution, it is acting a little weird though. He's scrolling through the posts on the community network, bemused by the dramatics of it all honestly. He looks up when he sees someone else wander inside, frowning when Cael pulls the scrap of fabric over his face. Okay, then.

John hops up and makes his way over, now dressed in the t-shirt and overalls combo with his hiking boots and peacoat on, the collar popped. What he wouldn't do for a ciggy about now.

"That's a choice," he says suddenly, for lack of a more clever way to greet the man. They are all in the same boat together, supposedly. Or are they? John's not counting his chickens before they hatch on that account. "Find anything out in there, Blue?" He means from the other people who have been here longer than them, but he leaves it completely open either way.