[Video]

[The scene on camera looks like lazily faked ghost footage. Fairly enough, he is struggling a bit with not just the concept of the communicator but its various functions. It's only luck that he has it facing the right way. With a little squinting and/or imagination, a man with a lot of dark hair, a white robe, and a blindfold over his eyes is visible. And making a very formal bow after a few dead seconds spent being sure he's prodded at this inscrutable thing correctly.]

I understand this is a means of addressing every resident. I apologize if I am mistaken. My name is Xiao Xingchen. I have been kindly approached many times with offers of help, greatly appreciated. I've had some time now to learn the shape of the place. I've been without my sight for many years now, and would hate to inconvenience anyone who feels the need to guide me.

[He's fine, please stop perceiving him.]

I am informed that new inmates are expected to act as cleaners and housekeepers. I apologize if my work shows evidence of occasional oversights.

[His delivery is almost flawlessly deadpan. His hint of a smile doesn't carry on the out of focus picture.]

I confess I have little sense of how often this... ship--

[How is this a ship.]

Is beset by trouble from the restless dead, or any other object of night hunts. My brushwork for spells has suffered considerable detriment over the last few years, but I can advise ably enough, manage relatively low-level, practical healing, and fulfill a priest's ordinary duties.

[Though he's not sure what those might be in a place so drenched in magic, where no one dies.]

I see the wisdom of removing weaponry and suppressing the core of inmates, of course.

My thanks for the great hospitality I have been met with.

[Another bow, just to be sure.]

[Spam]

[To a very limited extend, he's a bit better at stumbling around the barge than he was. He can generally find the way to food and bathing, anyway. Asking more seems churlish. He still spends a great deal of time pacing, trying to learn doors, count stairs and steps from one destination to the next. The deck offers something like fresh air, and he is a very dedicated custodian from the first. He can occasionally be spotted near the chapel, but tends to dither and decide not to go in after a few minutes lingering. Most of the facilities, as such, are confusing or uninteresting. He doesn't drink. It's hard to gamble without working eyes. He's not really motivated to find out what the hell is going on in the bowling alley.

The gym is enticing, but as he isn't allowed weapons, he assumes he's unwelcome to train and drifts away.

And most of the time he holds it together. Calm. Upright. Helpful. When he has to, he retreats through his ominous looking door, rough wood with the odd, shortened frame, to curl up inside and mourn.]