Jason happens upon Kuai's room in one of the few moments he's actually in there. It's been rough the past few days. Not really physically, but mentally. There's so many missing, he hasn't found bodies, but there's this overwhelming knowledge that many must have perished in the flood.

If they were lucky the church would be overflowing with Beacon residents soon, but there was something about this that made him less than hopeful about that outcome.

Opening the door to Jason't knock, he looks haggard, feeling every one of his fourty-someodd years, but still wearing his full leather armor, ready at a moments notice to head back downstairs and help out. This isn't someone who takes being idle very well.

"How many have you found are still here?" It seems more silent than normal, usually he can hear the comforting hum of people talking through the walls, or the bar below him clinking with glasses. The place had never been exactly bustling, but it had definitely felt more alive than it does now. For a place full of dead people anyway.

He gives a wry smirk, "I don't think there's anything to interrupt anymore. Everyone seems busy picking up the pieces that remain."