The other man seemed to be surprised to see him answering the door. Which was fair, really. He had likely been expecting Tycho himself or one of the staff. It didn't really occur to Cleon that he should probably not be answering the doors of his friends homes. Then again, he only did so with those he knew wouldn't care and Tycho was definitely among that number.

The name was still on the edge of his brain, just out of his grasp. Oh, if he did not have it come to mind and the man didn't end up providing a name, it was going to bug him for days. Trying to conjure up a name for the face before him was taking up most of his thoughts.

He watched the other man as he entered the house, shoulders high. "He has gone to check on his mother but should be back soon," Cleon said, utterly oblivious to any sort of awkwardness that might be in the room. He went over to the drink cart and took the liberty of pouring out two glasses of the sugary, rainbow-hued alcoholic drink Tycho had secured from some Jewell's Distillery event.

He looked back up at the other man and it finally hit him. "Greengrass! That's who you are. I recognized you but the name was just not coming to me," Cleon said with a chuckle. "I had no idea you were friends with Tycho." How had the two met? He was mildly curious now. For some reason, it never really occurred to him that his friends had lives and connections that existed beyond their association with himself.