The scarlet irises are a surprise, but even those are more insignificant than the smirk Valdis plasters across her face in the tiny video screen. When the image cuts out, a little flashing icon and CALL ENDED message are reflected in Rutile's hair, eyes, and outraged expression.

"Good thing I'm not fucking alive," Rutile mutters, and shoves the yimo into their pocket. The chair scrapes on the floor as they hastily rise, and the last thing heard is the heavy thud of their footsteps across the common room floor.