[He tries to shift imperceptibly, so John doesn't see how uncomfortable the concept of people he doesn't know remembering him makes him. God that's just fucking spooky. Also John you leave his hair the hell alone he spent hours on this.]

Heard.

[He squints upward at the Wingull and it makes a contented sound as it finally settles in his hair, squashing it down and flattening it out.]

Wingull. Uh-huh.

[He presses the bridge of his glasses into his nose for a moment in vague irritation.]

So-- John, right? If you know me you probably also know that you look a hell of a lot like the awkward lovechild of two of my close friends. What's the deal there.