Names! He was absolutely terrible with names. Amjad took headcount from his chair, nodding at each individual as he tried to recall those present. Iwajima-san was the smallest one, that was easy. He wasn't absolutely sure what his role was in the picture of things - when Amjad was ten he wasn't all that entirely useful or intelligent, so he had a hard time placing Jun within the group. Did he even get paid? What does he need with that money? Amjad squinted, his imagination entering overdrive and creating several rather absurd scenarios. Taking into account Jun's impressive vocabulary (for a nine year old), the Artisan selected the most likely story for the day - man in the body of a child seeking to return to his prime. Amjad blinked at Jun, his face contorting in a way which was hard to read. Suspicious. Amjad put that aside for now and looked to the next person, racking his memory for a name.

Tachibana-senpai; the joker of the group. Amjad hates jokes, they never make sense to him. Many ask the question [i]'why did the chicken cross the road?'[/i] with the obvious answer of [i]'to get to the other side.'[/i] Apparently that is funny to some degree. Amjad initially saw the meaning of the joke as 'the other side' being the afterlife and the implication being the chicken was hit by a car and then died. [i]'No,'[/i] he was told, it just crossed the road. Amjad hates jokes. After that tangent, the Artificer had forgotten what he was initially thinking about - oh, yes. Names. 

This one, the one polishing ammunition, was a quiet sort and that was something Amjad could relate to - can't be said for everything else though. Amjad acknowledged his condition, something which was arguably of his own making, but he did not attempt to be 'cold' in any sense of the word. He came across that way sometimes, yes, but that was unfortunately part of the package of excessive Severing. There was definitely a harsh air about that boy though, a maintained one. If Amjad had to describe it in a word then 'Darwinian' would be the first thing to come to mind - emotions had been forced from him as a means to an end, rather than a side-effect. Akiza-san was his name. Dangerous. 

Tomoe-san. Nice family name, easy to remember. Helped that he had qualities in him which Amjad respected, made him far more memorable as far as people go. The familiar helped as well. The white haired youth turned his gaze to the familiar with a squint in his crimson eyes, bushy brows furrowed. As part of his education Amjad had been taught that the likes of familiars were tools hand-crafted by people like himself to fulfil an end. [i]'They are not people,'[/i] he was told [i]'but they can replicate people very well.'[/i] This one was very person-like, but like all things created for a reason you could discern some hint to its purpose through its design, and as a designer Amjad was unsure if he liked what he saw. Dangerous, suspicious. Eika was its name. 

New guy. Did it matter what Amjad really thought? He had food and he was not one to turn down grub. A-okay guy, ten out of ten. Oh, right. Conversation was happening. 

"Good afternoon, everyone." He spoke flatly, reaching down to place the clay jar on the floor next to the chair. 

"When there's a drought we usually make sure to use water only when it's necessary..." He directed at his boss with a tilt of the head. He understood the comparison between the absence of work (also money) and a drought, but Amjad knew a thing or two about making your way through one relatively comfortably. You didn't drink all the water in the first few nights, for starters.