Somewhere, Vanya Orlov feels the chill of someone walking over his grave. It's probably fine.

“No,” slower, more thoughtful — though not because the question itself is much of a challenge. It isn't: “I only know Marcus.” The tilt of her head is as one presented with something as a puzzle, and it becomes clear that she's at least trying to guess what Jone might be curious about beyond that, and limited to in her current mouth situation.

After a moment, she offers, “Him and I—we were close in age. Taken close together. Learned together. We grew as siblings do, he's my brother. I don't know any of you lot as have been here, though catching you all naked is doing a good deal to break the ice, no?”

The bath hangouts are multipurpose.