Altered mental states thanks to medical technology? That's usually my guess around here.

[Stephen's wrapped up in his own standard issue coat over his blue tunic and trousers. His biggest concession to snowbo chic is the pair of rubber kitchen gloves he's wearing to keep some of the chill off his hands, and the hand towel shoved in around his collar like the world's cheapest scarf. There are small, irregular scars strewn around the outside of his face and up the bridge of his nose, little marks here and there from where the stitches holding his hands over his eyes pulled and tore at the skin, small enough that someone who didn't know what he was looking at might mistake them for birthmarks or old scars from acne. The other scars are hidden by his clothing; Peter might catch a glimpse of one of the lines that run down his neck when Stephen turns his head, but the towel largely covers even those.

He eyes Peter, surprised somehow to see him here and to recognize who he is.]

You're shorter than I thought you'd be.