[Under his shaggy bangs, the man's brows raise. It's a strikingly appropriate name, so much that he wonders if it's fake. Even a fake name can carry great weight and meaning, though; he might that better than anyone, carrying so many counterfeits in his own history.]

Trust the senses, then the memory. They form the base for everything else... Doctor.

[A title of respect, education, authority. The man is quick to use it. He's an impatient viper with etiquette, the tedious and ungratifying efforts to prioritize the comfort of others... but this, he can manage. Titles, he's always assigned dutifully and properly. They're the part of etiquette that is rote, and therefore easy.]

It's the only way any of us know who were are, but should you want to reinvent yourself, this seems as good an opportunity as any.

["Reinvent." Maybe a poor choice of words, there.]