With most of the Troupe members out on their own errands, the safehouse is quiet, leaving only the faint glow of distant city lights through the window. Shalnark sits cross-legged on a couch, phone in one hand, lazily scrolling through something that looks far too technical to be a pastime.

An antenna of his rests on the table beside it. You glance at it, then at him, then back at it. He notices immediately and speaks up.

"What?" he asks cheerfully, without looking up. "I can see you staring at that." For a few seconds, you hesitate, then ask anyway. "What would happen if you used it on me?"

Now Shalnark looks up. There's no shift in his expression at first, just that bright and almost harmless smile. "Oh?" he tilts his head slightly. "That's a bold question." He sets his phone down with deliberate calm and reaches for the small device, twirling it lightly between his fingers. "Well, you'd be conscious, just not.. steering."

The explanation began conversationally, worded in the way someone might describe how a game controller works. He then leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. "But I wouldn't do that, not to you."

..Unless you asked.