[Move on along, there's nothing to see here...just a recuperating-and-slightly-drunk Tyki.]
[In one of the neutral bars in the dressing room, said Tyki is flopped over onto a table, with his head buried into the crook of his arm and one bandaged hand wrapped around a half-finished bottle of what looks like bourbon. He's snoring very, very softly.]
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Hai, hai. I've woken up in worse situations. [Rubs at his mouth.]
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Worse situations? Do tell. [He's not going to attack unless attacked. This is Tyki, after all.]
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[Still swiping at his face.] Different what?
[New Tyki is new. And still rather drunk.]
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Different from the ones I know. I'm not getting a ping from you. [In fact, he could almost swear he felt Innocence from this one.]
[Wisely is also new and therefore not really sure how this works.]
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[Tyki sits up and takes in a breath through his nose, staring up at the ceiling for a moment to clear his head. He blinks once, twice, and then brings himself to meet Wisely's gaze again.]
'Fraid I'm a little fuzzy on faces. We met?
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He takes a step back when Tyki stands. This isn't the brother he knows. It looks like him and sounds like him but this isn't his brother. Still, Wisely can't fight someone who looks like Tyki.] No. No, I guess we haven't met.
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[Offering Wisely a raised eyebrow. Why do you seem so nervous?] Only proper to introduce yourself, wouldn't you say?
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My apologies, you look a great deal like someone I know. I mistook you for them.
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[--He was going to say German, but he's too busy frowning.]
[Was that another him that just walked across the doorway?]
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