In a way, it is automatic. These are the things Cyrus Reagan has available to talk about: His work, Stephen's work, and their family. If he's ever sought out more than this, something beyond this realm of experience, he isn't thinking about it now. His expression is easy, the brief tension already gone; he's sliding back into Stephen's space, as relaxed as he ever allows himself to be.

"Nah." A pause, an eeeeh sort of hand gesture. "Or, well. Less mad. It's been a few weeks and no one's come to collect the key to the manor over it, so I think she's decided the family name can take the blemish." Dryly-- "She has a lecture prepped, though. Sorry."