[If someone knew the phrase 'Thank you, Captain Obvious' then he'd never say any fucking thing else half the time. His own voice is a hiss right back, frustrated above all else.]

No, I'm blind, and believe me it's exactly as frustrating as you think it is.

[He's not stupid, though; he stays low and still behind the case, aware that Numbers must have at least put him out of sight, pressing a hand to it just to investigate it and finding glass against his shoulder.]

Alright, so. [He drags a hand through his hair, trying to sweep the now-messy half-curls back into a semblance of control.] Fucking- evil mannequins. Sure. What set them off-- and more importantly, how do we stop them?