Psi sighs, raising a hand to wearily rub his forehead. He's stuck in the middle of the dance floor with Foster, and the man has decided now of all times is the right time to be difficult. Again.

"I don't know where anyone is." Maybe it's a feeling Foster is used to, but for the Psionic it's new and frightening. He looks around him, taking in the faces of the people in their surroundings.

"Ginko, I need to find him."