[Some things never changed, war chief among them.

After keeping to himself for the first few minutes of the feast, Guy begins to mingle with the other shardbearers. Regardless of whether you want company or not, he's bringing you a drink. Ale, if you look old enough. Juice, if you're younger.]

You mind if I joined you? It's kinda boring to eat by yourself.

[Guy's managed to thoroughly gut a poor radio that just happened to be lying around. Its parts are strewn across the table's surface, arranged in a somewhat tidy fashion. Nuts and bolts go to one side. Batteries and other such parts he can't really identify? They're the focus of his endeavors, and he's so intently attuned to the task at hand that nothing can snap him out of his flow.

Well. Almost nothing, anyway.

As he's working he happens to elbow the cold cup of coffee he's got sitting beside him. It falls to the floor with a marvelous crash, mocha flying everywhere, and Guy snaps to attention, visibly startled.]

Wh--?

(hit me with your best shot, i'm up for anything! if you want to hash out anything specific, you can pm this journal or pp me at goatsong.)