"Fuck, that's even worse." The right people at the wrong time, in the wrong place- she doesn't question his alleged retirement. In her world, it's not a matter of age, just finding something better. And in her book, being a Sorcerer Supreme seems like a far better option than neurosurgeon. It wouldn't make sense to keep up a day job when you're busy saving the world from giant eyeballs.

Later, maybe- she'll focus long enough on his hands to see the uniformity of his scars. But right now, they're just scars.

Ellie shakes her head, relaxes. "Nah. I got infected as a kid, but something about me... makes me immune. So I can't spread it. Here, it's nothing to worry about."

Despite her smile, there's a bit of strain around her eyes when she says it. That simple little explanation for several layers of tragedy. She's quick to move on.

"It was before my time, but I guess somebody had some other infectious disease when they rifted in, years back. It's never happened again, and the quarantine itself is pretty lax, compared to what I'm used to.

"You just have to stick to the Gallows for a little while. Get your bearings. There's a hugeass library, if that helps."