Miles' face splits with a wide grin at that, leaning back in his station chair in a semi-mirror of Bel's own posture, one elbow crooked over the back of the chair. A most markedly Admiral Naismith gesture.

"Ah, I see you've met Loki and Jasper. Or was it Peridot?" A little smirk steals into his expression, eyes glinting. It is interesting that Bel seems to know where Loki's supposed godhood is from -- although Miles has given up doubting him and is just going with it. Less of a waste of energy. Miles spreads his hands in an expansive gesture, slipping briefly into his Betan accent with an impudent flair without really thinking about it. "Welcome to the Moira, Tiruncula Thorne. I hope you're enjoying your indentured captivity."

He really shouldn't indulge those little whims to slip back into Admiral Naismith, no matter how relevant, no matter how tempting. It only confuses the issue, makes him even more...uncertain about who he is here, although his mind still shies away from that thought. It's just so easy around Bel, harder to resist -- almost automatic. It just makes him realize more keenly how much he misses doing Naismith. The smirk flickers out, and Miles drops his arms, shrugging.