Yeah, you have an Artemy who's kind of blinking dumbly at you.

At least it's a good distraction from the crying, the numbness of it all.

He happily takes his own mug of cider, sipping at it. It tastes good. He hasn't really ever tried anything like it. It's not overly sweet, it's a little more bitter like he likes.

"Um, sorry," He says sheepishly, "I'm not familiar with the 'Xeno' prefix, can we start there? If it helps, from where I come from, the moon landing hasn't happened, and we're a few years out from penicillin yet, from what I've gathered from speaking to others."