( It should probably register to him more strangely that the first thing she says after her name is I'm physical. Jack has a tendency to miss the finer details — the product of a sleep-deprived mind, too many years on too many drugs that didn't actually help the source but only mitigated the symptoms. Also, a very weird life that tends to make stranger comments slip through the cracks. He doesn't think to ask about it.

Instead, he busies himself with looking as non-threatening as possible (which isn't really something he needs to worry about, he's average height, skinny, and he's missing limbs even in the horizon, he doesn't exactly paint an imposing figure). She's met with his palms gently up in a placating kind of surrender, and probably the most medium-chill monotone version of reassurance a human's capable of while still being genuine. )

Hi. I'm Jack. You definitely exist, you're just having some temporary memory loss. It's sort of a... magic psychic plane dreamscape side-effect situation.