MASK OR MENACE

[ Simon is lounging on the living room couch of Nonah 007 in jeans and a gray turtleneck, carefully shined shoes kicked up onto the coffee table. He's got a martini in one hand, complete with a little speared olive. He contemplates it a moment with a rather dark-eyed expression before lifting his head and beaming at the feed.

In a Very Posh British Accent: ]

Hello darlings. It's a beautiful morning in an unfamiliar world. Beautiful here, in any case, I hope the weather is holding wherever you all might be.

[ A TOAST, TO YOU, FRIENDS. ]

Here's to having one's worldview overturned, hmm? I thought I'd seen everything, more fool me.

[ He plucks the olive out of the drink, turning it on the end of its toothpick. ] Does anyone have any... suggestions, as to how a body might mute the manifestation of new abilities?

[ For a second, he looks like he's going to say something else. For another second, he looks uncomfortable. ]

Sufficed to say I'd rather like to keep my mental hands to myself.