"Pro'bly f-fucked up something again, but I'll be fine," he mutters to Geralt, trying to pat the man's hand on his shoulder and just hitting his shoulder instead. Well, that probably looked stupid.

He listens to Lily's concerns and pushes his glasses up into his hair. He can't see through them, anyway, and they leave a near-perfect ring of clean skin around his eyes. "We... could maybe. Maybe ask Chase."

Chase, you know. You know, the guy? He winces and tries to think again. Why can they ask him? Oh! Crew. He's crew.

"Wait, shit." Ben tries to sit up, and actually gets pretty close to vertical, though his arms are shaking under his slight weight. He looks around, very obviously unfocused. Not having his glasses on doesn't help, either. "What-- wh-what about the others? Anyone... anyone else like me?" What was he? Oh! "Anyone hurt?"