[It feels like the right place to find the god of war, no matter Set's words. The Last Dance, in its intimacy and decadence, reminds Tyki of establishments whose dark corners he'd frequently occupied between duties to the Earl; at home, at once, in a place that feels familiar and painstakingly nostalgic. He had less time these days to entertain idleness, and admittedly he knew this would continue while the war against the Black Order and the greater world waged, so it isn't strange to feel the seed of guilt in him now for indulging.

Priorities have changed, and no one is there to give him orders. This doesn't stop Tyki from wondering when the Earl will appear.]

You do know how to make someone like me feel welcome, even as a stranger to Kenos and to your own cultural ways. [Tyki slips closer, gloved hand unbuttoning the front of his coat to sit neatly, a lounge of limbs beside Set that is careful not to pin that waterfall of red hair beneath their weight.] How does one of your world pay respects to the god of war? I'd like to do the same if I can.

[He offers a close-lipped smile that is, for once, sincere against the glitter of amber eyes and darker skin.]