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"You're very kind." It was a nice thing to say for someone who felt so out of place, and surely Sammy was right; somewhere along the line, they might have furnished their new knights with clothing that would be better suited to the job than the ones they'd come in with. Still, since so many already came fully prepared, it was possible that she would simply have to learn how to fight in a dress.

Seeing as she did not know how to fight at all, the dress was the least of her worries.

"I hold no memories either. I think that's the point, here. Everyone looks a little lost, even if, on the surface, they might appear prepared for what lies ahead." She eyed Sammy's sword warily, clearly disturbed by the sight of a weapon so close to her. Her legs were pulled up tighter towards herself, instinctively. "I believe the answer is that we're from here, now. That's all we have to go on."

The food did not appeal to her. The thought of wine made her stomach roll. She was as out of place in the banquet hall as she was in a knight's realm, or a kingdom, for that matter. She felt it bearing down on her, the constant reminder that she did not belong.

Another apprentice knight sat down on her other side, and she was hyper aware of the presence even though the only indication she'd made was the ram-rod straightening of her back. It would be more difficult to make sure she was not accidentally brushed against from both sides, now - so she faced the table, and turned her head just enough to look at the second figure. He was thoroughly invested in food, and nothing else. She eased at the realization, and quickly ducked her eyes away.

Her hat was askew, and nimble fingers caught it before it flew to the ground, because that'd be sacrilege.

Claude's eyes narrowed briefly at him before she placed it back atop of her head and situated it just so. "Only knaves have anything less." She replied simply.

Another sat across from them, the living rags not too far down. Sammy did watch curiously as items simply.... vanished into the small ones cloak. She needed pockets in her cloak. She needed like way more pockets. That little one was brilliant. Without warning she started to snag a few pieces of bread trying to find a place to hide them as Riley spoke.

"Maybe I was kind before, maybe I'm kind now. I feel... excited. I don't know why?" She was trying to find somewhere around her armor, a bag? A belt? Why did she have no bags or pockets? She needed to talk to the little rag knight about where to put pockets.

"Maybe it's a good thing, I was thinking earlier, if we can't remember, we can't hold anger? No one can blame anyone for a past wrong they can't remember right?" She nodded in agreement with Riley at her statement about being here. Distracted entirely from her fear of the sword as she searched through food to snack on and something she could hide SOMEWHERE on this stupid suite of armor.

"Do you think you've fought before? Before the dress maybe?"

[ Entering - Jason Kenneth ]

There were so many people here it was hard to know where he should sit. Jason stood there for a few moments trying to figure out where he should go, before he found himself a seat nearby a small group, including a very lovely dressed lady and a man with long black hair.

After he had sat down he was able to focus more on the food that had been placed, and he had to admit he had never seen such quantity of it in once place. With hesitant hands he reached for bread and cheese, and with a glance around to make sure no one was going to yell at him for it, he pulled it back in front of him.

Again he glanced at the other two, and with a awkward smile he decided to try and say something. "H-hello." He said with a small stammer.

He ducked under the cup of ale as it was flung at him, it hit a nearby wall, he hoped.

Akubi ignored the fact that the contents had still spilled upon his person and he just dusted himself off and stood up, “I don't think you have a sincere bone in your body. I think you are lashing out at me in an attempt to earn my respect and friendship. I think you want friends and telling me to '******** off' is just an invitation to come and sit by your side.”

No, he wasn't delusional.

“I didn't predict victory. I know I will be victorious if only to prove your little vision incorrect.” He snorted a bit. As if.

Then just like that he had a new, friendlier face to focus on.

“No competition though we could form one, it could be fun. A wager perhaps? Don't mind her, she doesn't want you to '******** off'. She wants a friend, very sorely so. Perhaps we should befriend her.”

Drag someone else into this mess? YES.

[enter cadysaurus]

If there was one thing Cady understood, it was food.

Losing her memories had left her head feeling weird and light and emptier than usual, if such a thing was even possible. She decided to see if she could fill the void with mashed potatoes and gravy.

The beanpole of a girl took a platter that was likely meant for several people, and carted it over to a quiet corner where she squatted down and got to work.

Mashing was, Cady reflected, probably the highest honor that could be awarded to the noble tuber.

Sure, some might prefer it to be distilled into alcohol or baked and covered in butter or even chopped into bits or, in moments of desperation, eaten raw, but there was just something really special about a food that had been crushed and smashed and otherwise abused until it assumed an unassuming consistency, and then was assaulted liberally with salt and garlic.

With that extremely run on thought, she shoveled a serving spoon's worth into the hatch and down the hole, gulping greedily. She hadn't really noticed the poor faire the food represented - it was a lot better than what she made herself, which tended to run heavily to Burnt Stuff With Leaves In.