I do, but--hang on, what was that you just mentioned? Translated? Are you kidding me...?

[ He glances away as he reaches for an old memory. A French poem. Mais où sont les neiges d'anten, he thinks, and it should come as easily to his tongue as water.]

Where are the snows of... where are the--God damn it.

[ He puts a hand to his mouth in thought, and with his brow furrowed, it's the most he's emoted this entire conversation. Yes, it's not a bad thing to be able to understand everybody, but the amount of control this weird ghost cruise ship has on everybody is... off-putting. More than the fact that it's a ghost cruise ship with a host of unwilling passengers. ]

... Huh. That's strange. That's strange, right?