Leaning forward to mirror Seth's posture sounds like a good idea until his abdominal musculature decides it isn't, drawing the tense filaments of cracked bone into a tortuous knife-edge point. His good shoulder shoots up as he wraps the adjacent arm around his middle, adjusts back to his original position, expression tight.

"That - depends," he manages, breathing in and breathing out in an agonized, uneven cadence. He can't imagine this is doing very much to put Seth at ease, so Daniel forces his voice to steady. "We don't have proof you're even a UK citizen. Last I checked they're trying to pin down your real name seeing as the one you gave us was apparently - ah -" He grimaces sharply at the stab of pain that follows the ill-advised action of shifting his weight, "a pseudonym. Which makes proving the reliability of anything you say a little difficult."