Okay, that's better. Castor relaxes slightly, incongruously relieved by the confirmation of the other man's misfortune. "It's Earth," he says. He knows now from meeting Daine and Callie that options other than Earth are a thing, but it's still strange to have to confirm it. "It's, um, August, 2013, New York City?" It's nice to hear an English accent, makes him almost feel a kinship, but it's a very posh accent, which puts him a bit more on edge. He probably sounds quite rough in comparison. "Sorry, just - there's a Rift, that's what they call it, yeah? Space-time phenomenon, pulls people in from all over the place. Different universes, such like. I come from like - a different Earth. Different England than the one that's here. It's - I'm sorry, I'm not very good at explaining, I'm so new." He rubs at the back of his neck nervously.

"There's people here, who can help you," he says. "But there's - I'm sorry, there's no way back out. Least not that anyone's said. We're all sort of stuck here. In the same boat, like. Sorry." He's bollocksing this up, he can tell. But is there a way to let someone know gently that they've been displaced like this?

"I'm Castor," he says finally. "Castor Nubari."