[The night of the masquerade, the Ilya she met here-- separately the words she's saying make sense but when strung together in that specific order she loses him. Again his head spins dangerously and he momentarily releases her, raises one leather-gloved hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose, attempting to settle himself.

It seems the longer he spends here, the stranger things become.]

I'm not sure this is making any sense, it's been a long day, uh--

[And he clears his throat, starts again. Once more, he latches onto the parts of what she's saying that are easiest to hold on to.]

Yes, I had the whole welcome thing. It's all a bit much, honestly.