[No hospital bracelet, by the looks of it. Though, maybe he could've removed it somehow. Numbers maintains eye contact with Jupe just a little bit too long before averting his eyes. He curls in on himself almost abashedly, like a child that was caught staring at someone. His name? He's always avoided the question when asked by those outside of the syndicate. Did he even remember his name before his life of crime? Did it even matter?]

Mr. Numbers. They call me Mr. Numbers. [He doesn't sound particularly convincing. He folds his hands together, tightly interweaving his fingers and looking down at the floor.] Everything is fine. No accident. I'm here in Sweetwater for...for a reason.

[Even if he can't remember what that reason is. It sounds right to say, at the time. His brain is scrambled, intermingling memories from his time in Bemidji and the torture enacted by Norman. He was looking for a man in Bemidji. Why was he looking for a man? Who was it, anyways?

There's a good thirty second pause before he continues, sounding slightly confused.]

I think...need to find someone.