Dorrek has finally given in and started on the muffins. They're probably also just constructs of his mind, the same way this place supposedly is, so they shouldn't do anything terrible to him.
He's a little curious as to why the Timebroker called him by his assumed name, but not enough to ask in front of Gwendolyn. That's probably also because of the construct-nature of the area. Never the less, she has to be curious. While the Timebroker hadn't say anything about him being an alien hybrid, what he'd said about propaganda probably sounds odd paired with his (admittedly, false) New York accent. Best to get that dealt with sooner rather than later.
He turns in his chair to face her, making sure not to twist so far that he loses sight of the Timebroker puttering around the kitchen. "So, I suppose you have questions," he prompts her with his most polite voice.
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