[Interesting. Ebalon doesn't dare reach back — giving up too many secrets this early in the game is always detrimental — but his incredible control can be related to his own magic as well as the fact that he lies as easily as one might don a new sweater. Outside of this flatlining mindscape, he appears cordial and polite, friendly-if-measured, though he's not in one hundred percent control of every emotion despite masking over much of it with magic and an insane sense of self-control. If someone passes by that seems interesting to him, there's a blip there. If he manages to spot someone he doesn't like off in the distance, there's the briefest hiss of anger that he's quick to reel in.

She looks around his physical age, he thinks, perhaps a year or two older. Though, his height makes him appear somewhat older on the surface anyhow.]

No, not at all. I've been trapped aboard this ship for three months now, give or take — I volunteered to take care of this for the only staff member who is currently... out of commission, I believe? [He's pretty sure that's what's going on. There's a beep in the emotion monitor of uncertainty.] She ought to be back in due time. —Forgive me for not introducing myself, actually. Ebalon is my name — I'm your note-writer, as it were.