[ It's only now that Midnight notes the way Daan stood and walked away, the clipped phrasing. He'd no idea that Daan had noticed. Even now, he's only caught the slightest pauses in Daan's previously even cadence. He's quiet, frowning slightly, while he works back to fit the stilted atmosphere into a puzzle that is missing too many pieces to make sense.

Did something happen? When did it happen? Did Midnight let something show? (He's terribly good at hiding it. Some days, he tricks himself into believing in his own games, and that's the best way to hide. One needs not act if one forgets they're on a stage.) Was it something entirely irrelevant? The doctor seems to have some distaste for this helper of his... Perhaps there's some history there? ]

I'm not at all opposed to M— your Sylvian.

[ Midnight licks his lips, tasting the mistake. That's... awkward. It certainly will take some getting used to. ]

But if you have better options, I'd like to try them someday, too. I've plenty to do, so I'd be grateful for any lasting solutions.

[ Midnight nods, then leans forward to scoop up his bag. He has a treatment plan, a schedule, possibly an ally should Operator Broca need medical attention. That's exactly what he came here for. ]