Natthanon.

It had been awhile since Jinu had enough free time to wander the castle grounds with how busy his schedule had been as of late but his workload had lessened as of late and the councilman quickly took the opportunity to leave his office and stretch his legs. His hands stuffed into his pockets as he ventured outside and turned his gaze up towards the sky, watching as the rain pelted the umbrella he was holding over his head, his lips curling into a lazy smirk. "Can I help you?" He called out to the unseen person.

While wandering the castle grounds once felt like a mental humiliation experiment, Non has eventually learned to take each moment with a level of grace that he didn’t have before. Maybe there are eyes in places that do perceive him at his worst, or maybe people really don’t care. He’s had to decide that with either choice the end result will be the same, so he at least takes the opportunity to get out while he can. Witnessing others is another thing he’s learned he has the option of choosing, and he does so without guilt. Even now, when the availability was cover, and that is what drew him closer to the stranger.

If Non was anything like he used to be, it was always vaguely untelling. He kept his face straight and his eyes down just enough to get away with staring. He looks the stranger up and down as he’s approached, only faltering back an inch to put some distance between them: all the better to see him at a wider angle. He doesn’t look very threatening but he could be wrong. There’s not much tethering him down here, in and out of observing others and trying to figure out just how he’s supposed to act.

Oddly enough, it’s the event that makes it more bearable than anything. Being stuck all day with very little socialization has made things more difficult for him, and at least at parties there is the ability to observe. People and their behavior was more telling than a conversation, he feels.

Non was often aware of people’s perception of him, and with it often came the most important piece of identity: the name. He himself thought his name was a nice blend, easier to remember than others and a meaning dear to his heart rooted in education. But most of the time, he doesn’t even give his surname. He has no reason to.

The question was mostly to entertain himself more than it was to prove a point: Non knew that his full name could be difficult but there was a power to using it, to carrying it with pride. After all, it was his name. And with his name came the tiny bit of legacy he could still claim for himself.

Manny stared with furrowed brows at the newest slave near him at the bar in the game room. Why? He was struggling to remember how the fuck to say his name. He'd read it, multiple times. He'd heard it, multiple times. But the amount of "n's" in there didn't bode well for the berserker who already stumbled over his own words on a frequent basis. And now he was going to look like an idiot.

Non was often aware of people’s perception of him, and with it often came the most important piece of identity: the name. He himself thought his name was a nice blend, easier to remember than others and a meaning dear to his heart rooted in education. But most of the time, he doesn’t even give his surname. He has no reason to.

@nonnathanon

If Non was anything like he used to be, it was always vaguely untelling. He kept his face straight and his eyes down just enough to get away with staring. He looks the stranger up and down as he’s approached, only faltering back an inch to put some distance between them: all the better to see him at a wider angle. He doesn’t look very threatening but he could be wrong. There’s not much tethering him down here, in and out of observing others and trying to figure out just how he’s supposed to act.