Intro catch-all, OTA [ Network / Log ]

[thxboss]

Who: Sett, anyone that happens across him
When: November 1st - 10th
Where: ADI headquarters, ADI apartments
Summary: Sett's arrival and introductions to his new surroundings.
Warnings: Swearing, mild violence. Drug mention. Mild nudity(nothing explicit).


Who: Sett, anyone else who chimes in
Username: TheBoss
Warnings: N/A



Man this place is wild. These phones? Looks like a Piltie toy I need to get my hands on. I'd kill to have somethin this convenient back home. Would've saved a lotta time, that's for sure. Knowin how to write a new language outta nowhere, and this whole apocalypse business? Sounds pretty bad. Even worse since I guess I'm stuck here with it now too.

Ma's gonna be worried sick.

Anyway, while I'm figurin all of this out, what's all this feast business I'm hearing about? Thanks somethin. I guess thanks for not bein murked by that black mist outbreak or the Harrowing?

Oh yeah, adi's got me on security detail, but if anyone knows where I can get some odd jobs for money on the side, I'd appreciate it. And better drinks than the cheap shit they sell at the canteen.

---

Arrival.
It doesn't matter so much that the hulking figure of a man popped into existence somewhere in the expansive compound, halfway through a sentence, twirling a brass knuckle around one of his finger. It didn't matter that he stood there for a moment, dumb-founded, wondering if he just died, got drugged and was in the midst of some wild hallucination, or if that Black Mist was back to fuck with him specifically. A couple of people stopped what they were doing to look at him.

And he looked at them.

And they looked at him. And he looked at them. And they made some calls to some people on a little tablet.

He tried asking questions in common Ionian, in Navoran, in Va-Noxian, and even Ur-Noxian, but none of it stuck. They just pointed to a chair and he knew well enough it was in his best interests right now to just sit the fuck down and make sure he wasn't losing his fucking mind.

Things just got weirder from that point on.

Characters are welcome to approach Sett as they like, but at this point, communication is largely limited to playing games of charades.

Characters that speak east-asian languages will pick up on familiar syllables, intonations, and some-odd words here and there when Sett speaks, and Sett will likewise pick up on the same amount from them as well, but grammatical variations make it nigh impossible to communicate past saying a word or two, then reverting back to an optimistic use of charades.



Casual after-hours.
Sett's been going through the ringer.

After the headache that is an entirely new language and all of its nuances slamming into his exhausted brain like a fuck-truck, the crash-course of learning about the technology here, the apocalyptic situation in this world, and getting ferried around to get all kinds of paperwork and accommodations and tours over and done with, he's irritable and exhausted at most hours of the day.

Given his set of skills, Sett begrudgingly accepted the grunt work of security. It was money, but it was just one more headache.

He was scheduled to shadow some man fresh off the line to learn the ins-and-outs of the department, so on occasion, characters might see a uniformed Sett cruising the grounds with a dark-haired NPC. Sometimes he's attentive, but most of the time he's a combination of bored, irritated, and a million miles away. Characters are just as likely to note that Sett has a tendency to roll up the sleeves of the coat of his uniform or leave the collar wide open, and he's constantly being chastised for it.

Should characters wish to interrupt him while on duty, the accompanying NPC might be thrilled to have Sett taken off of his hands, what with how Sett makes it pretty clear he has no interest in listening to what he has to say and shows a general insubordination. Sett, meanwhile, will give any interrupting characters due attention, but the bored scowl on his face demands that they make it worth his time, because he doesn't want to go from one asinine lecture to another.

Should a character instead come across him after his shift, they might find the beast-man sitting near a window in the canteen, enjoying the waning hours of sunlight. He'll still have his work clothes on, save the jacket will be thrown over the back of his chair or sprawled on the round table he's sitting at, revealing that the shirt he's wearing underneath have the sleeves ripped off, and the top few buttons undone. It was freedom enough.

His other arm was stretched comfortably beside a notepad, pencil in hand, with scribbles and lists written in a language that was almost Japanese, almost Chinese, almost Sanskrit, and almost Korean all at once. To the other side of the notepad was a cold bottle of beer that was about half-gone at this point. To anyone paying attention to that small detail, it was safe to guess that, while perhaps tired and frazzled(as all new arrivals were sure to be), the warm hum of alcohol in his system was likely enough to put him in an amicable enough mood to be approached and welcomed moreso to this new reality.

Granted, with that five o'clock shadow, hard-edged features, and the glimmer of scar tissue scattered all over his arms--not to mention that big one all across his nose and cheeks--he had a pretty intimidating figure. But then, something about appearances being deceiving and all. Or maybe they weren't deceiving? Who knew. Your character wouldn't until they approach him!



And they were roommates... - Locked to Manji, K.P., and Rue.
A.Sett was assigned to the C-block of apartments, down on the first floor. Which was well enough, and would make it much easier to sneak in and out past this ridiculous curfew. But that wouldn't become an issue yet. Sett was far too exhausted from the onslaught of classes and tutorials and orientations to really stay up that late for now.

All he knew was that he was put in a room with--

"Yo." The very first time he laid eyes on the gargantuan furry...thing with no pants on, he wasn't going to keep his mouth shut. "So uh..what are you? Can't say I've seen anything like you runnin' around before."

Flawless. Truly.

But even Sett had to look up at K.P., and was admittedly dwarfed by the bugbear. Despite that, he was rather endeared by how gruff the thing looked. It had seen battle, or at least worse days than this, based on that weird mug alone.

B. Likewise as Sett laid eyes on Manji, his clothing was familiar, the make of his weapons familiar. These were things known to Sett, vaguely, and so Sett regarded him with an air of solemnity creeping underneath his casual demeanor. Like he knew why Manji's eyes were set the way they were, why his lips were set in that shape. Why his hands were thick and rough.

This man had seen things that Sett could grasp at a glance, unlike the foreign bugbear, whom he'd no idea how to read, but intrigued him all the same.

Sett's arms crossed over his chest, his head tilted upwards briefly to gesture towards the sword--be it on Manji's person at the time, or safely tucked away in his room, both men knew Sett had seen it just as plainly as Sett's ears could be seen at any time atop his head.

"You got a name for that blade? You ain't gotta share, but. Hey." He shrugged and rolled his neck to one side. "'Better ice-breaker for roommates than just sayin' hello."

C. Sett is usually the first one in the shared bathroom. Why? He likes long, hot showers, and hoarding all the hot water. How much hot water there was or wasn't had long since stopped being a concern of his back home, and he damn sure wasn't going to go back to worrying about something that fucking trivial.

If his flatmates didn't like it and tried to approach him, well, he'd yank the towel off his waist to show his bare ass and flip whomever the bird just before closing the bathroom door behind him. And locking it.

If it escalated from there, the half-breed Vastayan had no problem baring his fangs and growling at them.

A corner of his lips would curdle up into a snarl, his ears would stand upright and alert, and the tendons along the back of his hands tightened. "YEAH? You wanna make somethin' of it?

"'You wanna shower first so bad, get your punk ass outta bed before me, or get over it." Sett didn't yell. He didn't particularly need to yell. He had a way of sharpening his voice. Hardening it. He wielded it like a familiar, seasoned weapon alongside the gleam of his fangs and the threat of his clawed fists.

Sett was a man that was willing to throw down, bare-fucking-naked, over something quite trivial.

Should Rue walk into the scene before things escalated past Sett throwing his weight around, he'd snort, quickly throw the towel over himself and apologize to her with his ears pinning back. But his apology would only be addressed to her. Should she happen to walk in once any possible fights started, he wouldn't notice her right away.

D. Wildcard. Feel free to tag Sett with anything!



Open Post
If you have anything you would like to thread with Sett but it doesn't fall under one of the prompts, feel free to throw your own at me!

If you're uncertain, feel free to DM this journal, or hmu on discord(Cirrus #3810), and we can discuss thread details there!

Comments

After hours

[failedpromise]

Intimidating? Lol, good luck intimidating Cortana, buddy.

There are plenty of new faces around - people arrive here all the time - and Cortana is a curious sort. This guy hasn't shown up to her cybersecurity classes yet, so that makes her extra curious. He's also writing in a language she's never seen before, another thing that catches her interest ... honestly he's pretty much Cortana bait.

He's even kind of attractive, though that's of little importance in comparison to the draw of being a massive nerd.

"Hmmm... I've never seen writing like that before." Did you want a robot woman peering over your shoulder, Sett? Because there's a robot woman attempting to peer over you shoulder. "And I know a lot of different languages."

[thxboss]

Nerds just can't resist the jock allure. Balance must be kept in the world.

Sett was recommended to attend the cyber security classes--or rather, recommended was the nice way to put it. He could tell when a suggestion was just a polite command, since it was often something he fell back on at home. But this place, the information, the upheaval. Man, it was really getting to him. It made him itch to hop into the pits back home, just to burn off all this weird energy. But trying to organize his thoughts over a cold beer and looking at the familiar writing of home helped to settle his nerves enough.

He considered briefly taking off to just change up his settings and take his mind off of things, or maybe try to find something familiar and normal to him, but he hadn't yet mastered his phone enough to figure out how to do that, and the idea of just wandering around made him more irritable. Though, frazzled as he was, everything was bound to irritate him. The most unfortunate detail was that understimulation irritated him just as much.

His ears flicked and twitched. A subtle suggestion to alert Cortana that he was aware of her presence, but he didn't look up at first as she looked over his shoulder. He took a short, curt breath in through his nose and reached for the bottle to take another swallow from it and set lightly back down on the table.

It was just a weird woman. There was no need to fucking snap at her, she didn't do anything. She probably couldn't do anything? He couldn't tell by looking at her. He'd heard of people in Piltover turning their bodies into machines, but Piltover wasn't here in this place.

The loop in his thoughts brought him back to an irritable place, and for a moment his features hardened at the powerlessness that kept hitting him, but he again seemed to catch himself and smooth himself out.

"Woah, personal space, much?" He leaned back from how he slouched over the notebook and stretched an arm out on either side of it. His voice was gruff, but smooth enough with its playful air.

His body language was trying to make use of his size to rebuff her a bit and edge her back moreso to the brink of his personal space bubble.

"'Don't think anyone has. It's writing from back home, called Ionian.

"If you wanna know it, I'll show ya. Just take a seat over there." He raised a hand as he spoke to bounce a pointer finger towards the chair across the table from him. Please Cortana give the man his space. Once he settles into this place he'll be cool as a cucumber, but for right now he is just trying to recollect himself.

[failedpromise]

As a massive nerd with a thing for jocks, Cortana would agree with that statement.

Look, she wasn't going to blame him for waiting to go, or not wanting to go at all. It was ...kind of a big change for a lot of people, and ADI tended to order even people who were technology themselves to go, so a lot of people showed up who didn't actually need class at all.

Still, it was better than the whole situation where people were using variants of password for their password and handing out their information to anyone they asked.

She pulls back when his body language makes it clear he wants more personal space, almost before he has a chance to speak up about it. "Sorry." Her tone is very slightly sheepish as she takes the indicated seat, but then she's back to being all perky curiosity. Give her the knowledge.

a

[sneakery]

Regrettably, Hob had grown used to the question. While there were certainly other non-humans here, it seemed that his stature and formidable appearance turned heads regardless. To say he expected it would be a reach, but he didn't seem all that surprised, either. One furry eyebrow quirked and his ears, tall and tufted, fell back for but a moment—their drooping was the only outward clue that he was at all affected by the impropriety.

He turned to face what was to be, he guessed, one of his bunkmates in these quarters ADI had provided, drawing himself up to his full height and stiffly folding his arms behind his back at parade rest. Yellow eyes made note of the man's feline ears before meeting his gaze and holding there.

"K.P. Hob, formerly Major of the Goblin Court," he said smartly. He knew full well his name and station were irrelevant to the question, but this was how things were done. "In answer to your question, I am a goblin in the abstract and a bugbear in the specific. I was born in the Feywilds and, until very recently, lived in a bog. And you are?"

Sett and Hob sharing a microaggression but neither of them know what that is and cope differently

[thxboss]

Man those sure were words.

A few of them he grasped, but probably not in the way Hob meant for him to.

Sett knew very well how questions could get on one's nerves. How earnest curiosity could stab the mind and wrench anger out of it, but he'd long embraced such facts. Some things were unavoidable, and while Sett tried to disarm these kinds of things by almost weaponizing his casual tone to dispell the awkwardness if asking, he knew his questions didn't always land right. But he also knew he could smooth those things over.

His neck craned when Hob brought himself up to his full height, but he seemed none the worse for the wear for doing so. The reality of this new situation hadn't quite yet sunk in, and while he was bombarded with quite a lot of new things, he really hadn't processed it much. It was like he was a skipping stone across the surface of a lake at the moment.

Sett's eyebrows rose, his lower lip pouted to show he was impressed, and he nodded his head with the gesture. This man wasn't fresh out of the bunks or trenches, but he held himself with a familiar sort of gravity that Sett recognized. Those types usually just regarded Sett as a punk--what with the way his shoulders tilted and he held his weight on one leg. Sett, himself, stood much more loosely and fluidly. There was not so much formality there; it was more of a swagger.

"Feywilds, bog, and Major, I get. Never heard of the rest'a that so it might take a little explainin' at a later date. You're pretty impressive, though." He had no problems complimenting others where due.

"Sett. Half-human, half-Vastaya, all me. I ran a business back home, nothing prestigious like becomin' a soldier, though." Sarcasm and ire saturated his comment about being a soldier with a saccharine sort of friendliness. The friendliness that was more an underlying insult, but yet, when he spoke, he also smiled easily and flicked a wrist in the air. The gesture could have been to pontificate or undermine his intentions.

"Never heard of a bugbear or goblin before, though. 'Those tribes, orrr..bloodlines?"

lmao yes exactly

[sneakery]

The insult in Sett's tone might have passed unnoticed if it weren't for Hob very recently spending time among the Archfey gentry (insight check: 17). Reading between the lines had become a matter of survival, for his reputation if not for his very life. Still, while the casual snub rankled, Hob also thought he understood. Unlike many officers among the various fey militias he hadn't been elevated due to the circumstances of his birth. He knew well the bitterness of the rank and file when passed over for advancement in favor of someone with little skill and a silver spoon.

He marked the comment with a lifted brow and a hm from the back of his throat, and moved on.

"Something like that. Truth be told I have not had occasion to explain before now; those fey that do not belong to a court are few and far between, and even they are aware of the hierarchies of the Archfey." Hob paused, gaze wandering while he ordered his thoughts. Behind his back one of his clawed fingers drums on his wrist. "Yes, I suppose you could call each court a tribe. Many are quite homogenous. The Goblin Court, however, contains multitudes. We—they—are comprised of those fey whose purview is wildness and nightmare. Bugbears are but one of many types of goblin who call that court their home.

"What are the Vastaya, if I may ask?"

after hours

[clavesregni]

Caitlyn rarely comes to the canteen. She'd much rather sit and eat her lunch outside, or return to the apartment and stare at the map of the city she's pinned to the wall as though she'll uncover some sort of eldritch truth if she stares hard enough. She finds it difficult to get much of anything done here; usually, she finds herself sitting alone for ten or fifteen minutes before the chair becomes too uncomfortable or the noise becomes too irritating and she leaves.

Today is no exception. Shortly after arriving, she decides it was a mistake, and opts to simply return to work.

That is, until she notices a man scribbling in a language she hasn't seen in quite some time, one she thought no one else here knew. She approaches him from the side, eager if a little awkward, her own notebook held to her chest.

"You speak Ionian?"

[thxboss]

A pretty, dainty woman stood out from the crowd the moment she broke from the flow of the crowd to approach him.

He sighed softly under his breath, his ears flicked to pin back for a second, but immediately after, as if caught by Sett, stood casually upright once more, only every so often quirking when particular noises caught his attention. He grimaced at knowing he would have to go through social interaction and deal with whatever bullshit he was to be pushed at him this time. Maybe a reminder of his shift tomorrow, maybe someone being overly excited to welcome him to this hell hole that stunk of emptiness to him. But he braced himself and wiped his face with his free hand, as if to wipe away the irritation, and prepare himself for this interaction.

She was probably going to give him a reason to snap at her, but for now her slate was clean, and his mama taught him better than that. So he should at least make her proud, if nothing else.

But then she pinned down what he was writing, and he was visibly flabbergasted.

Both his brows raised. His body slowly shifted, like a basilisk painstakingly uncoiling from slumber, with dust and rubble falling from its scales at the behest of the warm sun.

"You got it." He smirked and grabbed the bottle to raise to his lips. "I'm Ionian, through and through. Sorta."

His features had hints of Ionian in them, just as Caitlyn's did, but his facial structure--robust and solid--screamed Noxian. The ears, fangs, and fur gave him away as at least part Vastayan. He didn't know how much he'd need to explain to her, but he knew it wouldn't be nearly as much as he'd have to explain to others, and that was enough to put a new wind in his sails for today.

"[Name's Sett, born and raised in Navori. You?]" His reply came in the common Ionian tongue, rather than his native Navoran dialect.

He pushed the other chair at the table out from underneath it with a nudge of his foot, and gestured for her to join him by upturning a palm towards her and sweeping it to the chair.

[clavesregni]

Caitlyn sits eagerly, elated to have someone else from home to speak with, even if they're a stranger. She sits rather primly, ankles crossed, but lays her notebook down and leans forward with her forearms on the table.

"Caitlyn. I'm from Piltover," she responds, also in Ionian. "My father's family came from Ionia originally, though I've never been myself." She's always wanted to go, even asked her parents if she could when she was younger, but the answer was always it's dangerous or you're too young or whyever would you want to travel so far from home. So her knowledge of the place comes entirely from books and a handful of pictures and the few stories her father's told her, and the wistfulness in her voice is evident.

a little c/d action

[ruevealing]

"Block C, apartment C-1. Oh! Right here!"

Stepping right up to the front door, the owlbear took a few moments to smooth down their ruffled feathers and readjust the full skirt of their new dress - a deep teal with a bouncy skirt and elegant, off-the-shoulder straps. It was only an extra few seconds of preening, just to make sure their appearance was as near to perfect as possible, before their knuckles rapped gently against the door, eagerly awaiting their beloved to answer.

This was, after all, the first time since arriving to this place, that Rue was getting to stop by Hob's new apartment.

Since they'd been given their housing assignments, it was Hob who made the effort to show up at Rue's new quarters every morning, where they would usually dine together and take a brisk walk before setting in for an afternoon of ADI's mandatory lessons. But the idea to surprise him took hold and Rue had been able to think of nothing else, a small bouquet of pink peonies in clawed hand from a local shop, a small housewarming gift to brighten up Hob's room.

It doesn't even occur to them that Hob might be out on his own or that the man's other roommates might answer the door.

[ooc: i figured a little less full frontal nudity for their first meeting :p]

[thxboss]

(( just a little less. :3 ))

Sett held onto what few things he could that reminded him of the status he clawed his way up to back home. It reminded him of his promise to never have to go back to his old life again. To never let anyone or anything tell him what he could or could not do ever again. That was probably an unhealthy coping mechanism. But he didn't know that, and if he even did, he wouldn't care. He'd deal with this change in whatever way he wanted to. He deserved that much from the universe, he surmised.

In the mornings, he liked his space. He would cook breakfast--more than he would eat by himself. What he didn't serve for himself, he left for the other two.

He usually made breakfast for himself and his mother back home. Eggs, pork, fish, fresh vegetables, rice, beans, miso soup, fresh bread that his mother made a day or two before. Food was readily and conveniently available here, but their taste paled in comparison. In exchange for the convenience of shopping in the large stores he was introduced to, the food all tasted watered down, like soggy paper. For now he made the best with what he had. Some mornings he was up early to prepare miso soup with fish and rice, others he made thin pancakes, or a congee that he preferred to flavor with sweet and tangy notes, or rich and savory flavors. Some days it was natto.

It was a little thing that centered him and helped ready him for the rough days. That it just so happened to feed his flat-mates(if they wanted to eat it) was just a by-product.

This particular morning, the routine was broken by a knock at the door, but he seemed none the worse for the wear for it. No one else was able to answer it at the moment, and rather than facing the possibility of a series of steadily more obnoxious knocking, Sett picked up his bowl and chopsticks, and went for the door. If he wasn't still angry at the world, he would have been more polite about it. Would have asked them to wait. But he didn't. He, in just sweat pants(weird make of clothing but pleasantly comfortable for morning wear, he found), a barely-combed cowlick, and a bowl with chopsticks in hand (of steaming sweet pork and leafy greens, and a boiled egg), opened the door quite abruptly.

"Yeah?" He had a brow quirked and was already looking down his nose, letting whomever know how displeased he was with their interruption. But .02 seconds after opening the door, he realized whom it was. Rue's face had become familiar.

"Shit--" His ears pinned back and he grimaced apologetically at them. Regret sank in. Irritably so, but he still wasn't proud of himself.

"Uh. Hob's out, pickin' something up." He stepped aside, leaving the door open, and motioned for them to come on in. For that moment, he seemed to collect himself with a gruff stammer.

"Cute flowers, though. Make yourself at home." As he kept talking, he seemed to settle down, and his words were more airy. It almost sounded dismissive in how easily friendly it was, but that just seemed to be normal for Sett. He gestured with an arm for them to please theirself to whatever furniture or amenity they wanted. "I got breakfast in the kitchen, just gotta put somethin' on."

[ruevealing]

The door was flung open and Rue's countenance remained the picture of perfect poise, in thanks only to millennia of experience being unflappable in the face of absolute chaos. The man that Rue has only met in brief passing - Sett, they recall with a touch of blossoming pride, but then again, keeping track of names has always been an important part of their previous job - was standing before them, shirtless and quite clearly in the middle of his morning routine.

His face went through a whole flurry of emotions - displeasure, regret, and then perhaps, just a touch of friendly acceptance. And his ears, just as adorably expressive as Hob's, went just as wild, pinning back as that guilt hit his eyes, his whole expression going a touch softer in his shame before he was inviting the owlbear inside.

For just a moment, Rue stood frozen at the open doorway, gazing inside after Sett's retreating form, a touch uncertain how to proceed. By all the rules of respectability they've been raised with, an unwed fey such as them going unsupervised into a gentlemen's dorm would cause an absolute scandal. To be honest, they shouldn't even be over here to see Hob, much less the other two men who resided here. Back in Faerie, the rumors would spread, their social standing would tank, and they'd be shooing away the scandal for weeks.

But they aren't in Faerie anymore, and as strange as this place still felt to them, Rue has come to realize that nothing here was anywhere near as strict as where they'd come from. And besides, they'd already absconded from their court with their oath-breaking goblin lover, could strolling into a simple apartment space really hurt their social standing much more than that?

With a soft hooting sigh and a careful ruffle of feathers, Rue stepped inside to follow Sett - their movements all graceful elegance for their size, especially when having to duck their head in order to clear the door frame. It may not seem like it considering Hob's aura of intimidation against Rue's softness, but the owlbear easily has a few inches on the man in height.

"Thank you for the invitation. How foolish I must look to you, coming over here completely unannounced. I -" Their head tipped down with a soft touch of shyness, long lashes fluttering. "I only wanted to surprise Hob. But I see now that I really should have checked with him first. That being said, I truly do appreciate your generous welcome. Please, don't let me interrupt your routine. I'm certain Hob will be returned shortly."

network; text un: primetime

[neonleon]

thanksgiving yeah its a holiday
mostly food big on family

not worried about the apocalypse stuff

un: TheBoss

[thxboss]

Holiday huh? Sounds pretty nice. What other ones you got?

Yeah. I just had to deal with weird shit back home, I'm not in the business of dealing with it here, too. At least everything looks normal enough though. I'll take it.

[neonleon]

o are you not familiar?
we got loads
youll love christmas

yeah i just helped save my world from alien invasion so this is kinda 0 burger to me

[canofmanji]

Manji, for the most part, tried to keep to himself when his new roommates arrived. It wasn't that he disliked them; he was always just a bit of a loner. Plus, while he'd never admit it, there was one thing they just could never live up to.

They weren't Garner.

Even knowing it was unfair and even lying to himself that he was 'fine' didn't change the disgruntled look that tended to cross his face when they were being introduced initially. There was a part of Manji that wasn't ready to welcome a new roommate into his life so soon after losing Garner, let alone roomateS. Yet these were the cards he's been given, so he'll play them.

If asked questions he'll give a short, honest reply. Giving off the air of a man who wasn't interested in conversation. They'll get the answer they need and nothing further than that. He has no issue and raised no complaint when it comes to fighting over the shower. He was use to bathing in a river back home, so the cold water didn't bother him now. While at home in the apartment he wore his two swords openly. One looking fairly high tech and the other a classic samurai sword. Typically he's dressed in a black and white kimono with the manji symbol on the back. Although he would change to jeans and more modern tops to go out. Hiding his original sword in his trench coat as best he can. Not wanting to stand out too much when to try an appease ADI a little.

So when he's asked about his swords the heavily scarred, one eye, one arm, samurai straight out of 17th century Japan leans back to give Sett a better look at the weapons at his hip. Patting first the one he brought from home "Imo-no-Kami Tatsumasa". Then he pats the one he got from ADI. "This one is Hikari no Jokyo Dunn." It seems that is all he's going to say before he gruffly adds to that. "Don't touch them."

(OOS in case Sett can translate the names: Roughly translated into Sister Defender Tatsumasa (according to a wiki) and Removal of Light Dunn (according to my amateur Japanese). Tatsumasa and Dunn are names of people.)

[thxboss]

(( Ionia is based off of East Asian countries and India, so it's a mixing pot of a bunch of things. To Sett, hearing any one of those languages sounds like a toddler's gibberish to him, with actual words sprinkled throughout. If/when Sett speaks Ionian back to him, it'll sound pretty much the same to Manji. Toddler babbling with a word here or there. ))

Sett was used to the strong, silent type. They were as much of a mixed bag as any other type he ever saw coming through the pits, but 'seasoned fighter' was still written all over that man like wet on water. Maybe it was the scarred eye. Maybe it was the missing arm. Who knew? But Manji was someone Sett wanted to know. Mostly--and though he wouldn't consciously acknowledge it--because that was familiar to him right now, and it helped ease his own transition to this place. A lot of other subsets of thought and possibilities flowed from that familiarity with the grizzled man, but nothing that need be delved into at the moment.

Manji's short answered spoke enough to him, so he'd give the man his space and keep it short and sweet.

His brows furrowed and his ears twisted back in thought as he considered the given names, like he was trying to puzzle them out until the last directive was added. "I'll keep that in mind, chief."

"One more thing--you got a kimono, right? What d'you call that symbol on the back?" His brows knitted, his head dipped a bit, and he waved a hand about the air briefly, gesturing that he was sifting through some thoughts.

"I got somethin' like that back home; just wanted to know."

[text] un: cupkate

[bossyboiler]

Thanksgiving is going to mean different things to different people. [ But according to Google... ] To put it simply, it's about giving thanks for what you have with people that you like.

un: TheBoss

[thxboss]

Can't say I exactly know anyone around here that well, but it sounds like a cozy little holiday. How do I sign up?

text | UN: badgirlcoven

[edalyn]

Thanksgiving. It's a holiday. It's when the humans in this realm celebrate their victory in the war against birds.

Anyway, I can point you towards drinks. You want a liquor store or a bar?

un: TheBoss

[thxboss]

You.

You're my favorite person. I'm Sett.

Funny enough we got a bird war against humans goin on back home, but gimmie both. Nothin like takin bets on a good old fashioned bar fight to blow off some steam.

Network - text un:bright

[abrightboy]

Hi. The feast is for Thanksgiving. It's a holiday in this part of Earth. Where are you from?

[thxboss]

Hey, what's up.

Yeah, some people were explainin it to me. Mostly seems to be just for being happy for the people you got around you from what everyone's tellin me.

I'm from Navori, Ionia. Doesn't seem to be a place anyone around here knows, and I've never heard of this place, either. What about you?

canteen!

[lesbeau]

Most people probably have their eyes on Sett because he's big and intimidating, and admittedly, it is one of the first few things Beau notices about him. He sticks out like a bloody knuckle with his posture and scowl, and that alone would make her want to pry into what his whole deal was. But what really draws her are the sleeves. The threads on the edge. The way she knows that uniform is supposed to look. That man removed them, and none too kindly.

Which means Beau wastes no time, walking up, and sitting down across from him. She uncrosses her muscled arms to reveal a black tank top, with the words "SLEEVES ARE BULLSHIT" written across it.

"Hey. You look new." And she already knows they have something in common.

[thxboss]

Her shadow covered his light, and he looked over the beer bottle raised to his lips to look at the person approaching him. He was entirely ready to scare them off with a scowl on his face, but lo and behold, he saw a rather impressive set of biceps.

So he paused, raised his brows in acknowledgement and appreciation.

But then he saw the shirt, and he put the glass down on the table and licked his lips with a toothy grin of knowing. Sleeves are ABSOLUTE bullshit.

"Unfortunately. You look like you know all the right places to be in town, like where to get a shirt like that from. We'll be twinsies.

"'Name's Sett, by the way."