[Honestly, the proper response to spilling a guy's whisky on him is to apologize, offer a napkin that isn't filled with snacks, and get the hell out of there - not, say, doubling down about the brazen assumptions one happens to be making about most-if-not-all of the people at this party. Himself not included, of course.

That would be the proper response. Anders, to his credit, looks for a moment like he will do just that, until the uncertain and nearly-apologizing line of his mouth twists into a frown. He tucks his napkin full of snacks into an inner pocket of his coat in case he needs to start gesturing significantly and doubles down,]

Well, yes, having lived in a world and the time to have a look around in this one.

[Leaving aside that he crawled out of the earth maybe twelve hours ago, tops. It's fine to skip that detail.]

In my experience, most people don't ask questions when it's too comfortable not to. There is no better way to ensure that the people in charge will walk all over you than not asking questions until everything has already gone wrong.

[And this is a Nice Party with a severe lack of arguing over politics, so he's already assumed, well, a handful of things.

But he holds up his hands, like, placatingly? But not earnestly placatingly, whether that is better or worse.]

If that isn't you, then congratulations on having any individual thought.