[That’s the other thing about parties, the inherent danger to a man who skews towards the anti-social — people will (with good intentions, true) attempt to wrangle him into small talk. An art that Sephiroth never initiates on his own, who wields it like a man who isn’t so much inept as he is unwilling.

So it might be strange to consider that he’s standing in the midst of a party, of all places, but practicality often supersedes inconvenience. His second foray to the planet of Lunatia requires that he readjust to a foreign lifestyle yet again, and seek out any familiar faces from his last stay. Thus far his success has been middling, spotting none who would match his memory.

Only new faces, far too revelrous. And introductions that he did not ask for thrown his way.

Sephiroth sets his jaw, watching as the other moves with something of a drunken flourish to accompany his words. He dredges up what resolve he has to humor the other; it makes his tone not impolite, but certainly not very warm.]

So you’re new. [He’ll grant him some leeway. That alone is worthy of a drink.] A word of advice — don’t always consume what’s given to you without asking after the consequences first.

[There has been some Weird Stuff he’s seen during his stay, okay.]

My name is Sephiroth. [His arms cross.] You’re a doctor of what?