Kaite stopped, mid bite as the woman whom the machine had announced as 'Angelica Morres' sat a few spaces away, conveniently between himself and 'Tas' on the same side of the table. Apparently is was a subpsychology for humans to distance themselves in strange ways from threats. Regardless, he took the time to enter her name into the pad which dimly illuminated at the thought.
The 'implants' which the clones at Triganavia were given extended little farther than subcutaneous scalp sticks which sensed 'want' and 'context' more than actual thought. The belief was that surgery was more costly and difficult, especially with larger specimens, than simply tranq-darting and shooting an expanding skull-pad under the skin. In it was also a tracking device of sorts, although under the ocean, and considering that the control room for such implants had been reduced to cinders over a year ago...the threat with laughably nonexistent.
In return, the hazy sound of the girl's name echoed through Kaite's thoughts for a moment before the letters spelled themselves out on his inner arm before quickly fading. For a moment, it also displayed Kessler's name as well as 'Staci Jamerson' which he had taken the opportunity to note after recognizing the girl who'd rudely spoken up during the 'greeting ceremony'. It was surprising how she had chosen to apologize, uncharacteristic of humans, from what Kaite had come to know as their norm. Let alone her pervious nature which had made her unapproachable.

Introductions aside, he regrettably hadn't arrived early enough to catch 'Tas' 's actual name. It couldn't be helped, although with the brief encounter, she was the only individual who he'd formed any connection with on any level, exponentially adding to her value. He was eager to impress her by coming back alive from the first mission. Counter to other efforts, he was aware that words could never replace actions.
As tough as people talked, their words meant nothing under the assumption that they may be dead, tomorrow...even himself.
[color=8882be]Or the day after that[/color]
[color=f49ac2]or the day after that...[/color]
[color=8882be]...or the day after that...[/color]

The thought had caused a subconscious break in action which scared Kaite as he noticed himself blankly staring into his sandwich which dripped mashed potatoes and peppers from the contents of the smashed pierogi in his sandwich of questionable taste. The reminder of mental rampancy shocked him back into reality when a boy which he'd missed the name of sat not too far away.
[color=8882be]
All of zeh meat...iz like zey szought of vehr it comes from...[/color]

Kaite rested an elbow on the table, setting the other half of the sandwich down while savoring the bite for only a few more seconds while taking his glass and tipping it in the direction of Darius with a nod. He figured he may as well attempt to express good will towards at least one person. He would consider a second individual, although the name of 'Angelica Morres' meant little to him, since she was another face which looked like the last, hardly distinguishable from 'Tas' besides the hair as far as Kaite was concerned. 
He swallowed his bite hard before taking a quiet breath and scratching around the base of his antlers before saying to 'Darius', ([@Javier])softly enough with the hope that only he heard, "Tea, eh? So fancy vee may be on zeh front porch..." with a considerately gentle chuckle to offer, more than willing to let the three work it out while hoping to contribute to background banter. His tone was friendly enough, though hinting that Kaite was discerning of who was worth talking to. They seemed predisposed with their knife, and he worried that he looked crazy by seemingly talking to himself...before taking the opportunity to exercise what he knew, "...Sehr Darius" the expression assuming that 'Darius' was a singular name with no last name, as the machine behind the buffet had implied.

"Introductions, I suppose-" Kaite began again, assuming it'd taken the mention of his name to get his attention, he tried to accent his words with a shrug, playfully referencing the group's attempts to flex and introduce themselves. In nearly the same motion of extending a hand in what one would describe as somewhere between a handshake and a high-five, he went on, "-pardons...ehm, I am Jericho..."

He recovered from the motion to make a gesture as if tipping a hat which had comical execution to the implied physical expression, considering the lack of place where a hat could fit atop the carefully whittled antlers which seemed sharp as knives at certain points. His tail flicked as he donned on the suspicion that some people may be unseemingly antisocial. He hoped it wasn't the case as he continued with his name to conclude the introduction, "...Jericho Kaite."