He's here to listen, he says, and Lancelot idly wonders if he the man knows what he'd be letting himself in for. Listening is an easy thing to promise, but Lancelot is not a person prone to sharing troubles or history -- and this... this is something long buried. Something he has had little chance to even try and share.

All he can do is try, he supposes.

"... Are you familiar with the term... 'Meta Human'?"

Lancelot slips down into a chair, draws his drink toward himself and squints questioningly at Faolan. He hopes he is, because explaining that on top of everything would be doubly complex.