[A crew can be very easy to ignore if you pay them enough to be quiet. He doesn't expect this ships crew will be nearly as palatable to deal with, but it's a ship in hell, so it might have some quirks; people being tortured in the lower levels, perhaps. He could deal with screams easier than he could merrymaking.

He jerks slightly when Ramsay pats him on the shoulder - he can't remember the last time someone actually touched him; most people are too afraid to get close - and gently brushes it off, smiling. He probably wouldn't want to linger, anyway. Peter is unnaturally cold, and there's a moment of everything being too quiet, too still, like being enclosed in a tomb. But it a fleeting thing.]

About some matters, but aren't we all?

[He starts trudging up the boarding platform.]

If I'm denied my peace and seclusion, you wouldn't mind sharing with me, would you?