[Davesprite jolts back a space. With as twisty as these hallways are and with the decor so blandly white, it's easy to almost run into people if he's not looking the right way. His paranoia isn't gone, but by now much of it has bled away into tired frustration with their surroundings.]

[So for the first second or two, Davesprite just stares from behind his shades. Does he know her? But that voice—]

Oh, hey, you're that chick from the network. Ex post facto? Don't think you gave me your name before. Or maybe I forgot; my memory's shit.