Arthur has more important things to do than pretend to be enjoying the party - when he gets tugged along, with no indication as to where, it takes him a little too long to get his bearings, and a hip definitely bounces off something wooden, solid enough to make him stagger and curse briefly, but his cane manages to protect his shins, and when a door finally closes behind him, he leans against it in a moment of relief.

"Right." His expression turns more severe, but his voice is low, determined not to be overheard. "Whatever you learn here cannot be repeated to anyone that doesn't live on Haven Street, do you understand? Everyone local is in on whatever mental fucking cult this town is turning into, except us. We're all the ones who came from somewhere else." He gestures between him and the sound of a board creaking under Chell's foot. "Different worlds, different time periods."