"So over here we have the gunsmith, and this is the Cryptarch here, you see. Those stairs will take you down to the.." Who's that over there? "Oh. Yeah that's just Eris. Don't mind her." Is she OK? I mean.. "Yeah look she's probably fine. Now, this tunnel leads to through to.." Yes but, shouldn't we help her or something? I think she's talking to herself. And her [i]face[/i].. "You mean the mascara thing? Or the Splinter Cell mask? She does it for attention. Same as the rants about Crota, the parking wherever she feels like it when there's a hangar [i]right there [/i]for heaven's sake. Just ignore her. We all do." But that's so sad. Seems like she needs a friend. "She needs a shower and some elephant-strength antipsychotic drugs. The stink coming off her.. I swear you can almost see it. She's lost her marbles, you know. Her head's all over the place like a mad woman's shit." Oh my god, that's terrible! "Ah, whaddya gonna do. People start wearing their pyjamas outside in the daytime, you step right round 'em and you just keep on truckin' - am I right?" Er.. "Damn straight. You don't break pace. Otherwise you'll be there all day. Crota this, Crota that, end of the world, blah blah, all my friends are dead, poor old me, whinge whine moan. It's just the same old tune on the same old fiddle." Well that seems.. "Trust me. Or ask anyone, they'll say the same thing. Just dodge her. You know we've only got her word as to what happened to the rest of her fireteam. For all we know they're stuffed in the back of that shitbox ship she's tied up like its a horse." But that's.. "Look look, never mind her. She doesn't matter. And you've got to see this. We've got a jukebox downstairs." A jukebox? "You bet. It only plays music for thirty seconds at a time, though."