Claudius shakes his head. At what, he couldn't say. "I don't mean to sound cynical. First you seek common ground, then you acknowledge differences ... those are the first steps of any negotiation. It's essential to do both. But matters of love, attraction, and identity are rather personal and volatile. In Elsinore, sounding out someone's interests is like handling quicksilver, and as dangerous. Even here, I've fallen out with a young man for whom admitting his attraction to other men was so frightening he suspected me of seducing him as part of a conspiracy to undermine his power, and lashed out at the first opportunity. I simply wonder what it would take to establish a community among such people. Whether abstract notions of working together and fighting back against a shared threat would be enough. I don't believe it would. Too many people are selfish, given to secrecy, and care only about the safety of their immediate circle." It's why Claudius hasn't done anything, why there's nothing to do. Friends die. The idea that the mansion is a community, a community that would work together to protect its own, seems quite impossible now. Too late.