[centre][h3][color=8493ca]Matthias Llywelyn[/color] - Unknown[/h3]
[@wolverbells][/centre][hr][hr]

[color=gray]Context. Something which Matthias knew from his academic career was emminently important to all things, both past, future and present. Without it, the things Natalie spoke about he would have dismissed as the ravings of a madwoman. With the facility around them, the discrete but forceful manner of his transportation here and the ever strong rumours circling in the outside world about empowered people; the madness from Natalie’s mouth was easy to accept. A natural conclusion, almost, which drew all the pieces of the weird jigsaw into place.

He sat down opposite her, clasping his hands together and sorting through it all like he might when constructing an essay or thesis. Organising the facts, aligning the contrasting arguments until a clear picture was made and he could, with certainty, decide on what be believed to be the truth and how he should act on it. That exercise helped keep him calm, it was familiar unlike everything else and kept the boiling anxiety bubbling away in his chest firmly at bay.

[color=8493ca]”I’m sorry, it seems that your stay has already been somewhat tragic. I’m regretting coming here without a fight but then, I had no way of knowing what was waiting here for me. I’m not exactly a fighter, you see.”[/color] He gestured at himself, an athletic build but not from any kind of exercise which might be useful in a combat situation, with a self-deprecating smile. [color=8493ca]”I couldn’t tell you precisely, they drugged me before I was brought here you seee. I woke up about twenty minutes ago, I suppose? I had to leave my watch and everything else behind so it’s hard to tell for sure.”[/color] 

He looked around them again, seeing the lack of any form of natural light or even hope of a window. Nor were there any clocks to be seen. The useless, pub trivia, side of his brain dredged up the facts that removal of timekeeping methods, natural light and routine management tools were all effective forms of torture. Not something that he wanted to dwell on and certainly not the sort of thing that would be useful to vocalise, especially to this already demoralised young woman. 

[color=8493ca]”This thing about powers and the like, it all seems rather mad, don’t you think? I’m not suggesting you’re wrong,”[/color] he added quickly, realising that he was accidentally insuating such a thing, [color=8493ca]”it’s just so... strange. You said Mark could read minds, like a telepath sort of thing? Have you noticed anything about yourself, then? Something that warrants bringing you here? I can’t think of anything for myself.”[/color] He bit his lip, thinking but nothing came to mind at all. They would surely be told, at some point. Possibly at this briefing they had mentioned? Otherwise there was no point bringing them all to this facility in such an extreme manner. Questions whose answers they could only find later were only like to frustrate them so Matthias moved on.

[color=8493ca]”Maybe we should talk about... other things. From your accent I’d say your American, right? I’ve been studying over here, at Yale, but I can’t say I’ve caught all the nuances between the states just yet.”[/color][/color]