Chess gave the boy called Greg an odd look that quickly turned sour upon the realization that his thoughts were not explicitly private. He might have said something about it then, but really, what good would it do? Besides, he had his thoughts in check, nothing to fear from a little peek, as if he'd uncover anything. As well, one by one people seemed to be going up and introducing one themselves, and thus far he'd made it a point to at least commit some of what they said to memory. Faces, names, things that could be useful later were what he was looking for.

The emo kid was Casper, and Chess's "doormat" alarms went off more or less instantly. Good, the quiet ones never put up much of a fuss, and seeing just how far they could be pushed was always entertaining. He was clearly struggling, but Chess had little pity for him, if you couldn't swim on your own you'd sink, simple as that. If the boy had it in him to swim with the big fish then good on him, otherwise nature would take its course. Chess didn't care either way, no skin off his nose.

The girl Erica seemed like the nice type, which was fine in of itself, but it was risky business to go out and project that sort of thing. If Chess's doormat alarms went off, surely others' did as well. He got the same sort of vibe from Greg, though he couldn't help but feel a bit biased after the boy had gone and read his mind. Ugh, and without even asking, what sort of manners were those? The odd-eyed boy spoke as well, and Chess felt his own impatience bristle back up a bit realizing he wasn't the only one. Then there was the instigator of the little meet-and-greet, Kane, with a "K" and an "E" explicitly, bless his southern heart. Chess had never really interacted with anyone from the American South, but the rumors and hearsay were enough to give him a general idea of the boy, at least for the time being. 

He was surprised to see the ratty-looking girl rounding out the group of talkers, and with a joke of all things. Maybe he'd misjudged her as too broody, like most of the lower-class folks he ran into. But it didn't really matter, she went silent quick enough and he pushed the interest from his mind. Stubborn and shady until proven otherwise, he decided.  

Shutting the tiny book, he decided it was his turn. He cleared his throat and stepped forward a bit. "Abbey Chessar, but Chess will do for short and for preference," he said proudly, one hand on the scarf around his neck. "Actor, debater, entertainer, and [i]that's[/i] just the resume."