Ah, well, he supposed it made sense that they were related in this place; "Alexander" had come from a big family with a group of four older brothers, completed by a distant father and a brother nobody really liked, but got along with anyway because he was dad's favorite. That was almost so ironic, Balthazar could've laughed until his sides cramped. Well, if he had been in any kind of laughing mood.

"Sylvester," he tested, almost finding the name fitting. "Yes, of course. How's that...thing you were doing after you left going? None of us had heard from you in so long we thought you had...fallen completely off the grid." He knew this kind of round-about way of speaking was most likely annoying (hell, he couldn't stand it), and if Balthazar were any of his more self-entitled and rasher brothers, he probably wouldn't be doing it. One simple thing separated him from them, though: Survival Instinct and the ability to bullshit.