[ Well, there's that, too. But perhaps it's telling of how much time Arcade has already spent, here, that surviving feels like the lower priority.

In any case, he's backed himself into an unfortunate corner at record speed, and though he'd ordinarily brush it off with some unconvincing dismissal or non-sequitur— That doesn't exactly feel fair, when Len is here. Which means Len is part of this, now, and he's going to be just as affected by it.

Someone has to warn him. ]

This place has an... effect on us. The longer we're here, the more it seems to cause - changes.

[ His hands twitch again, an abortive half-gesture as he almost reaches for his arm again. A second of that intense, measured stare weighing on Len later, he actually does, pushing back his coat sleeve and then the shirt underneath. ]

I used to worry about my skin and hair sloughing off from natural causes.

[ That's not really a laugh that catches under his breath, no amusement in it, as he bares his forearm, and the pale, raised scales covering the back of it to his elbow. They're large and tapered, ridged and layered like a rattlesnake's, and mostly white, save for the faintly emerging pattern in pale gold and brown. ]