Whether he feels it's unfortunate to have a name like Punchy remains unclear in Hyperion's expression, simply giving it a soft purse of his lips and arch of his brows, as if letting the matter drop where it belongs. He brings a hand up to rub his nose lightly, briefly, listening to the remainder of his story with an attempt to show something more than indifference. It gets hard, sometimes, to remember you need to show emotion to blend in. Pretend you're still one of them.

"That's horrible." A quick frown, bringing his hands back into his pockets, watchful and apparently concerned. Why did they bring him in afterwards? "... Did you know them?"