[ while there's sense in keeping your cards close to your chest at a time like this, john can't really be bothered to. he was never the easiest man to pin down to begin with, and being on a space station with people he generally assumed to all be strangers just makes it that little bit harder. besides, at this point, his name is far too well worn, a comfortable element of himself that makes him feel more grounded (har har).

not that fitz has any proof that that's john's real name. john just might be an exceptionally natural liar.

his smile warms somewhat. ]

A pleasure, Fitz. [ wry sounding — maybe a little tired? like this conversation's taken something out of him. but the notes disappear quickly. ] I'm honestly so sad that I was plucked from London, or else I'd be leading the charge on a conspiracy theory with involvement from the United States. Alas, no luck.

[ said so brightly and cheerfully that it's unclear if he's joking or not. he hasn't decided what he is yet, however, so he's avoiding mentions of his own profession for the moment. ]