[Of course he's blameless in this, Fizz has no idea how to use any of the weird spells that come from that Goetia book; and despite living with Asmodeus for several years, he doesn't think he's ever seen one of Oz's crystals in person. He just has never had the need to, he's strictly a Hell-only sort of jester.

Or... guess he was.

But hearing that reassurance come from this outside source is oddly comforting, it adds another layer to the probability he won't be attacked for this. It's another kindness, one of several that are already stacking up.]

...yeah, thanks.

[It's a soft and slightly awkward response, accompanied by a smile that's much more genuine than the performer's mask he has been trying to hold onto after the initial panic abated.]

I don't know how much help I'm going to be on any of those counts, if I'm being honest. I'm not a fighter to keep myself safe, I'm a performer, and I've never even been to the living world before. I don't know how to fit in, even if I had a disguise. You've been-- really fucking kind so far, but letting me stick around is probably going to be a real pain in your ass.

[That doesn't stop the small flare of hope that he might be allowed to stick around all the same, rather than have to find a way to survive here alone.]

You sure you want that hassle, Regis?