There was beer, and some music, and a lot of people. Yet Adam felt estranged from the group on a whole. They seemed almost like zombies, stumbling in and exchanging platitudes before sitting on the couches to watch mind numbing television or a round of whatever game was popular. Frowning, the grunt took another swig of beer and let out a satisfied belch. Maybe they were avoiding him due to poor manners. If that was all it took to make a hardened grunt squeamish from interacting with someone then they were pathetically weak.
He had been sitting in the kitchenette area, but the urge to interact with the others was coming up too strongly. First thing was to locate a target worthy and available for interaction. This was a little difficult, given that most of the fellow rockets had friends and even cliques that seemed impregnable. Adam shuffled around, taking a drink from his beer (the third of the night, if we're counting (which he isn't)), and then moving along. The pattern held steadily until he spotted someone who seemed interesting and alone enough to make a perfect "companion". Aka - victim.
She was alone, and had finished writing in a journal of some sort. Adam was used to some faces, they popped up more than others, but this one was oddly... New.
Unceremoniously Adam dropped into a seat beside Icarus, a toothy wolf like grin spreading over his face, "Hey! 'Sup? I'm Bones~ What's your name? I haven't seen you around. Whatcha writing? Is it a journal? Or are you writing fiction? Is it horror? Erotic? Romantic? Adventure? Oh! You're a grunt, huh? What's your pokemon? Oh do you like pokemon? My roommate doesn't but he's kinda weird anyway."
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