NationStates Jolt Archive

To All Who wish for fun, relaxation and to dress up:

Dress Code: Formal Ball wear

Time to begin: Why not now?

OOC: How's about supplying us with a setting, a time-frame your nation is in for reference, and some manner of characters to interact with?

The setting is a grand ball room with deep royal Blue walls and a newly painted night sky ceiling (which is what I am celebrating) The Dining Hall adjoins the Ball room where to food will be served and there will be many manners of drink for all (if you want anything special just ask the servants with Blue wings they will help.

Besides the guests that will appear as they will most of the regular coutiers will be there, many Lords and Ladies. (if you want to know thier starture look at their wings they range from high standing (black goassmar feather wings) to lower Lord and Ladies (white feather wings) and everything in between are the many shades of grey)

If you are allergic to any types of foods or want anything special let me know personally so I can arrange it.... No Fighting please! this is a celebratory ball to celebrate the new night sky painting of this year. (the ceiling is painted every year Since in my country the night sky changes very quickly to us (our years are about 723 Human days)... Much will be learned about myself and my people here so come, enjoy, learn and Have fun!

ooc: i'll begin w/assuming that my leader has already made his way to your nation, one way or another.

ic:
The Archduke Philip IV strode into the grand ballroom. Deciding that he needed a change of pace from the business that awaited him in his nation of the Grand Duchy of Monte Ozarka, he journeyed to Marie-Serena to attend a grand ball.

Tonight, the Archduke was regaled in his usual style for formal, glitzy, ballroom occasions--military. He was dressed in a navy-blue, double-breasted with gold buttons hip-length jacket. The bottom of the sleeves were of a smooth gray, trimmed with sky-blue velvet. His high collars were also of the same gray material trimmed by the same blue velvet. Two sky-blue bars edged with fine golden thread adorned each collar. On his breast, he wore rows of medals from his time in the military in his youth. Epaulettes of twisted gold rope adorned his shoulders, with the heavy golden coils hanging down from the epaulettes onto his shoulders. Strings of aiguilles and tassels stretched from one shoulder to the other and from the back to the front. His trousers were of matching gray material to the jacket, extending down all the way to the ankles. Two wide sky-blue bands bordered either side of the outer seam. The polished black boots (worn on the inside) jangled with every step, as spurs were attached at the back. Around his waist hung a sturdy black leather belt with gold weave and buckle. From the left side of this belt hung a ceremonial (and somewhat gaudy) sabre.

Entering the ballroom, the Archduke took off his pure white gloves, searching for someone to converse or dance with.

A short, undefinably ugly man sits in his comfortable, overstuffed chair flicking through the list of reports on his data terminal. Every now and then he pauses to enter in a comment or redirect a file to where he feels it will do the most good. Then he stops as he reads an invitation. A slow smile spreads across his face.

TSMIT Broadcaster
Encryption: NDA Standard
Broadcast type: Diplomatic / Personal
To: Nathicana d'Aquisto
Return transmission band: Open
IDENT: Devon Treznor - Treznor

Hey, Red. Feel like dressing up and going to a party? Maybe, for once, we can actually get through the evening without getting attacked by terrorists.

http://www.pwfc.org/images/gallery/smtorso3.jpg
Devon Treznor
Emperor
<end transmission>

*walks towards The Archduke and spreads her deep blue dress into a perfect curtsy her shining black wings spreading to half span behind her*

Welcome, would you care to dance before our Dinner is served?

Emperor Gorrm recieves the invite, and looks to his chief advisor, Bosska. "Is this from that same group that ambushed us with hugs?"

"It is indeed. I take it this is a follow-up to that."

"It seems so. I have many affairs of theEmpire here to tend to, but perhaps my hatchmate would be interested in attending?"

"Thress? She's on assignment right now."

"No no. The youngest one. Sseerla. She seems to be leaning towards the foreign-diplomacy sphere of things."

"Ah, yes. Quite the little hob-knobber, that one. Bless her scales."

"Make it so. Give her clearance to requisition a Sweeper with a pilot to act as her guard."

OOC: Cutting to the arrival......

Sseerla, having been given Diplomat status, arrives with her guard, the pilot Hhssou. She wears a long silk gown of blue to compliment her light-green scales. A silver head-dress of scale-mail adorns her head. Her guard wears a simple black double-breasted suit with a skull-cap, also black.

As she ascends the stairs, her claws make a clacking sound. "This promises to be fascinating, don't you think Hhssou?"

A simple "Hrmmph." is his only answer as his eyes scan the area from both sides of his head.

http://www.5amfunnies.com/sakkra/Character/Ssaar.JPG

I would love to, Your Highness, but please do excuse me for this one second. My aide seems to have urgent business for me to attend to. I will return immediately afterwards. *bow*

ooc translation: gotta sleep. be back later tomorrow.

The Mikatopian Government has officaly declined the invitation, but the Ciceroni mafia family , a very rich and prosperous group, will send a delegate, as they almost a country of their own.

OOC:not enough time to RP right now.....

Ambassador-General Butah, Commander of the Madrigan 1st Regiment, Minister Superior to the Slutbum Wallah Diplomatic Corp and head runner in the fight for Presidency in the power vacuum left by the retiring El Presidente entered the Dining Hall with gradiose flair and style. He was a short man, a little under five feet tall but made up for it with his grand bulk. His light bown hair reached down to his shoulders and his flaccid, almost yellow face was fixed into a permanent charming smile. He was immaculately dressed in his unique military unifrom, all burgundy fabric and gold embellishment. He was unarmed, but flanked by two immense bodyguards who towered over his short form. They seemed almost identical, same pitch-black suits, same mirrored sunglasses, same grim expressions and identical bulges beneath right-breast of their suits.

The Ambassador-General was immediately greeted by an emaciated-looking man in a tuxedo, the local Slutbum Wallah official. He presided over Slutbum Wallah's dealings with the local region of twenty-eight countries, but since Slutbum Wallah had no dealings with the local twenty-eight countried this was his first time at a diplomatic function. It showed. He skittered up to Butah and began talking in an ancient dialect, Old Madrigan. It was a dead language, had been for twelve centuries and was only now spoken by the Slutbum Wallah Diplomatic Corp to give them something safe to converse in. "Greetings, sir. May I just say what an honour it is to meet you in person, I've always been a supporter of yours and-"

"Shut up Blunthorpe," Butah's charming smile stayed where it was as he surveyed the room, his facial expressions having no part in what he was saying, "I didn't come all this way to be patronised by diplomatic dropouts. I have business to attent to. Who's in charge here?"

Blunthorpe quivered under the insult, "I shall alert the hosts to your presence immediately, sir."

The Treasury Minister of the Five Civilized Nations, son of the Emperor and the heir to throne, Hamilton Crusade, proceeded slowly down the finely carpeted hall of the royal summer palace. As he walked, Hamilton's thoughts slowly turned to that of an invitation to a ball in the nation of Marie-Serena. Hamilton, the crown prince, was obligated to attend a number of events throughout the world, but Hamilton had begun to grow tired of this life...

Wearily, Hamilton resigned himself to his fate and prepared to attend the event...

http://teachpol.tcnj.edu/amer_pol_hist/ti/00000055.jpg

Hamilton Crusade
Crown Prince of the Five Civilized Nations--Heir to the Throne
Treasury Minister

"This would make for an interesting way to meet the important people of other nations, it would be my first appearence," Lord Azazel decided.
"It could be a trap," a voice warned him.
"Yidrazil, you claim everything is a trap," the Lord replied.
"Better safe then sorry," he protested.

OOC: I'll post my grand enterence later

So would anyone like to dance with me before dinner is served?

{Chancellor Keiji walks up to Marie-Serena}

Keiji: May I have this dance?

{Keiji bowed slightly}


OOC: I just appeared out of no where...

*curties politly and offers her arm to Keiji*

Yes you may Chancellor.

Hey, Red. Feel like dressing up and going to a party? Maybe, for once, we can actually get through the evening without getting attacked by terrorists.

Nathicana smiles warmly as she recieves the message, a soft laugh making her shoulders shake a little. "Out in public so soon? The man must be mad."

She gets to her feet, and stretches, pondering the situation thoughtfully, then leaning over to type up a response.

Actually, I think that's part of why I love him.

<Begin transmission, return route>
You know, Dev ... it just might work. Stranger things have happened after all. One thing, though. In light of recent events, would you mind terribly if we invited a friend or two? A sister, perhaps? I can't help but think mia sorella would enjoy a decent party - and no doubt be infinitely relieved to know we're actually staying out of trouble, to boot. If our idealistic and resourceful cadet is available, perhaps we can continue his education and provide something decidedly more pleasant than a slog through the back country all in one swoop. I'll be ready regardless.

Te amo, mi amore. Until then.

http://home.mchsi.com/~ketri/wsb/links/Nath7.jpg

--Nathicana D'Aquisto, Dread Lady of the Dominion

<end transmission>

Treznor grins. Oh, to leave the bodyguards behind.

TSMIT Broadcaster
Encryption: NDA Standard
Broadcast type: Diplomatic / Personal
To: Nathicana d'Aquisto
Return transmission band: Open
IDENT: Devon Treznor - Treznor

Deal. You talk to your sister and I'll knock on Hucy's door to relay an official request for the lad. But I get the first dance!

What should we bring for gifts to our host? Wine from you and dragon claws from me? They're starting to get pretty rare.

<end transmission>

Hollywood, The Nation of Hollywood

President David Harris looked over the invite. The offer was to a ball of some sorts in a rather large nation that, according to how he read the invite, full of bird people. He nodded, and looked towards an aide. "Pack a tux, and get my zep ready. Oh, and prepare the National Service Gaurds. I think I'll be attending a ball."

The aide nodded, and began to walk out of the room. Harris called back quickly. "Also, make it snappy. If I know my fellow leaders, Kolston will be sending someone too, if he doesn't go on his own."

The aide nodded, and moved quickly out of the room.
_______

Chicago, Industrialized States of America

CEO Kevin Kolston looked over the invite, the same one recieved by Harris, and the rest of the leaders of the many nation states of America. He nodded to an aide, who already was in the process of preparing the CEO's clothes. The Machavelli class Zeplin hovered outside his office in the Bank Tower, and he spun in his plush leather chair.

He removed a rather fine, expensive cigar from a humidor on his desk, and sniffed it, placing it in a cigar container, and slipping it into his pocket. This would be the best way to out do the snotty bastards from Hollywood. A Brigand buzzed the window and the zeplin, and he stood, and left the office.
________

Several hours later, both Zeplins were on the way towards Marie-Serena, surounded by their standard air protection element, floating quietly through the air.

Lord Azazel entered the grand ballroom, he instantly looked around to see what kind of people were present. Instead of his usual attire, he wore a black expensive suit with the medals he had awarded himself for taking control of Draconis Nightcrawlis. His hair was its usual untamable mess and being red made him look like a demon, something he'd never deny.

Ambassador-General Butah walked idly through the mass of chatting guests, smiling and seeming to talk politely with his adjudant, Blunthorpe in an obscure dialect. He laughed occasionally, presumably at some piece of wit. "Who are all these blathering idiots?" he commented, his face radiating charm and generosity.

"Various nobility and members of government, my lord. They constitute a powerful force in this region and..."

"Good God what's that one? Looks like he just got out of bed." The Ambassador-General smiled warmly in Azazel's direction as he insulted him.

"Lord Azazel of Draconis Nightcrawl, Ambassador-General. Something of an enigma. I was thinking, perhaps, that you might want to converse with some of the more high-ranking..."

"Shut up, Blunthorpe. I have no time to waste making pointless chit-chat with the usual idiot morons that usually inhabit these events. I am here on business."

Sseerla cocks her head at the various guests, and eyeballs the architecture in the hall. "What an odd collection of peoples. At least the music is pleasant on the ears, right Hhssou?"

"Grrmph" is the reply of the pilot and escort. Half-lidded eyes continue to scan the area. Beings with feathers, demonic-looking creatures. This all smacks of a plot. I trust not a one of these creatures.

A glass of wine is procured by Sseela from a passing waitperson, and she sips delicately at it. "This could stand to liven up a bit, but not bad. A fun party, but not TOO fun, yes?"

"Grrmph."

Blunthorpe eventually weaved his way through the guests and guided Ambassador-General Butah to an area of the hall set against one of the walls. There was a scattering of tables and chairs near the bar, various couples and groups had taken seats to rest from the dancing, enjoy the atmosphere and conversation. or quietly get shit-faced on the free booze. Blunthorpe guided the Ambassador-General and his two bodyguards to one table in paticular.

A man was already sitting at the table. He looked to be somewhere in his forties, didn't blink much and had a deep scar down one side of his face. It ran from his forehead to the edge of his chin, pulling up his lip. Without it he might have been described as handsome. He rose as Butah approached, holding out a shiny Special Operations badge to the Ambassador General. "Fillip Tamworth, SO-4, National Security."

"I have access to all the SpecOps designations up to SO-3, Mr. Tamworth, you don't have to tell me what SO-4 is responsible for." Replied Butah gruffly, finally being forced to abandon the Old Madrigan dialect and slip into common. "Now why in hell couldn't we have had this talk in my office, three thousand miles away. Why am I in some God-forsaken backwater when I could be dealing with real matters at home?"

"I apologize for the interruption sir, but I had to be sure of privacy. I shall be brief. Since the assasination of our minister at the peace talks Dregruk has begun re-mobilizing for war. They've tripled border patrols, begun massive troop movements and increased security to the point where none of my agents are safe. We also suspect them of having spies at the very highest level of government."

Butah laughed derisely, "Those muscle headed fools are always preparing for war with someone. We've stopped them before and we'll do it again. And just where would a thick-skulled idiot of a Dregrukian spy find a place in our government? They can't stand beurocracy."

Tamworth smiled grimly and looked up at Butah's first bodyguard, a thick-skulled muscle-head privy to many of the country's secrets. "Perhaps you'd be able to answer the General's question, Jacobs? But before you do, perhaps you'd like to show us the tatoo emblazoned on the back of your thigh? The sign of the Dregruk Elites?"

Jacob's moved fast, his pistol was out almost before Tamworth had finished speaking, luckily the Ambassador's second bodyguard was faster, and more importantly, loyal. He cracked Jacobs a bone-crunching blow across the face, smashed his fist into the betrayer's stomach and brought his elbow down hard on his head as he doubled over. Various startled guests turned to look, but Jacobs was aleady down.

Tamworth stood up and smiled disarmingly, "I'm sorry for the disturbance, my friend gets violent when he has too much to drink. Won't you excuse us?"

Lord Azazel scowled, he didn't care much for these people. He was only there to be seen, but he found himself not wanting to talk to anyone. Still maybe it wasn't to late to leave, no that wouldn't look good. He would have to wait it out, still he could find something good out of this. Except the drinks, he found the taste of them most foul.

http://www.jonathan.bennett5.btinternet.co.uk/ns/azazel.jpg

Her Magesty Queen Erin of The Queendom of Erinella is pleased to announce that she shall be in attendance at the celebration of the New Night Sky painting.

*curties politely to the chancellor as the song ends and glides gracefully around the ballroom, falling gracfully to one knee before each of her guests, Her Dress and wings splayed out behind her on the floor as she looks sincerly into the eyes of each*

"Honour to serve. As your humble hostess I wish to grant you all the goodness the fates and gods can offer you, the strength to bear all hardships should they come your way, and the eyes to see the difference between friends and enemies. Welcome to my home."

Hamilton Crusade glided quickly into the ballroom, his keen eyes quickly glancing about, analyzing the crowd. Glancing back at his two well-trained Black Watch bodyguards, Hamilton signaled for them to withdraw.

The bodyguards bowed and retreated out of the room.

Hamilton instinctively chose not to partake in any of the conservations, instead, drifting from one end of the room to another, eavesdropping on everything, his powerful computer-like mind, swiftly analyzing the situation.

*strides Gracefully to Hamilton Crusade*

*curties deeply*

Welcome to my home. Do you wish to dance?

Hamilton bowed gracefully and replied, "It would be my pleasure, my lady..." Hamilton accepted Marie-Serene's hand and slowly guided her to the dance floor. The two slowly began to waltz swiftly across the floor. Hamilton continued to keep an ear upon the conversations occurring around him, while he stared transfixed upon the beautiful woman in front of him...

*blushes slightly at Hamilton Crusade's intent gaze*

Something else occupies your mind besides our dance Sir. What is it?

Mario Ciceroni entered the ball room in his wheelchair, flocked by a bodyguard on his left and right. The guards were his two great-grandsons Angelo and Benito.

Mario was at least 109 years old. His skin was wrinked, his hair was pure white. But his eyes...those eyes were the same of the gangster that ruthlessly fought his way to the top. Now he was one of the ten richest men alive, Don of a powerful Maifa empire, and many other things.

Sitting in his wheelchair he motioned to Angelo and Benito to pushed him to Marie-Serena. Seeing she was in another convorsation, he waited until there was a break, and he spoke in his deep Italian accented voice.

"Good evening, you look absoultley lovley tonight. I am very flattered to be within these beautiful walls of this ball room. The paradises of many ancient gods of old do not compare with this hall..."

Smiling he kissed her hand. Mario may have been a mafia boss, but he knew his manners.

The Chief Justice of Fultonia glides gently into the ballroom wearing a long black robe walking with a silver nobbed red wood cane. His glasses shine and twinkle. His bright white gold ring glistens and his shoes shine like a mirror. He wondered about the peace negotiations ongoing in Iansisle.

*turns politely to face both Hamilton Crusade and the Don kneeling gracefully in front of the wrinkled old man kissing politly at her hand*

Honor so serve you Sir. Would you care to dance?

Koloston looked around teh ball room, noting the presence of Harris. He nodded at the man, yet ignored him, taking a glass of wine from a nearby tray. He kept his eyes open, as teh ISA was being blamed for the assasination of Coolidge, and he wanted to make sure he was safe.

He looked around more, and simpy began to mingle.

Second Lieutenant Timofeyev Bondayehr adjusts the high collar of his service dress jacket, new red circular pips flashing with the light reflected off the Earth through the broad forward canopy of the sleek silvery craft. "Sorry about the short notice, but I get the feeling that you didn't have any more time than I did."

S.H.O.D.A.N. chuckles. "You probably had less if they went along the chain. It's no matter, we'll make it ten minutes early."

"On time, then," Bondayehr half-smirks. "Have I ever mentioned I'm not one for fancy dances?"

"Quiet, you." S.H.O.D.A.N. looks back with an impish grin, eyes and fiber-optic networks glowing with a green light in the darkness of the cabin. "Nathi said this is part of your training."

"Oh, geez..."

Deal. You talk to your sister and I'll knock on Hucy's door to relay an official request for the lad. But I get the first dance!

What should we bring for gifts to our host? Wine from you and dragon claws from me? They're starting to get pretty rare.

<Return Transmission>
As if you had to ask, dear. Of course. I'll even put away a bottle of the Delacourt for a more private sampling later, shall I?

Consider it done. As for the dance - you're damn right you do, boy.
<end transmission>

"A party, eh? And it looks like there's already plenty of high-profile people, so security won't be a concern. If we leave now, we can get there in time...and, for that matter, get out before Signy can yell about security. HEY, TARVI!"

"What now, Gregor?" comes a voice from the other room.

"We're going to a party!"

"Oh, lord and lady, not again."

"Awww, come on. I promise, no evil little blind dudes this time."

"Whatever, your imperious majesticness. Give me a minute to pack some clothes and a first aid kit."

It's been quite some time since Bari--known as Bodyguard Barry during his political days--has left the Outset Islands. Spending month after month first as pariah, then as political exile, then at last as purported international terrorist has a way of teaching a man the value of subterfuge. Since that time, his home has been the caves on the island of Het Amid, where he granted counsel to his mother, Queen Esmerelda.

However, political strife has a remarkable tendency to smooth itself over. With his good name cleared, Bari no longer need live in fear of bounty hunters' bullets or international anti-terror campaigns.

Bari's face is hidden behind large black sunglasses and the shadow of a tall black top hat as he nervously tugs at his frilly collar, carefully adjusting the white lipis flower in his lapel.

"It's been quite a while, Mom," he says. He pulls the hat from his head and runs his hand through the thin scruff of regrowing hair. "I mean, really... I've been in a cave for--what, ten months? And now, just out of nowhere, a social affair in some upstart state I've never even heard of." Esmerelda turns to her son with a gentle smile--though they appear the same age, she is much older than he. Her blonde hair is pinned in the back, and her pale green dress flows down her body like a shimmering waterfall.

"This is the same Bari who taught me how to interact at events like this?" She chuckles as the two of them walk down the long corridor to the waiting craft. "You'll do fine. And anyway, Shodey will be there to help you get adjusted."

Bari turns to his mother and smiles. "You're right." He lowers his sunglasses, offering a small glimpse of his eyelashes. "And who's this guy that she and Nathi got you hooked up with, eh? Sounds like a real winner."

"As best I can tell, they've taken a liking to that kid," she says. "It doesn't help that he's a fraction of my age, of course..."

Bari laughs. "Mom, please. Every man is a fraction of your age."

As the two approach the craft, Esmerelda's laugh turns quiet. Her eyes flicker for a moment with the memories of an old friend. She tarries for only a moment before joining her son en route to their respective dates.

Out of the night sky flies a single, silent vehicle that is almost but not entirely black. It pauses in the air and drops stealth to reveal a futuristic vehicle with nicely aerodynamic lines that are reminiscent of a helicopter, without the roters. After identifying itself and obtaining permission, it makes a quick military landing.

A side door is thrown open and a half dozen smartly-dressed soldiers in black-and-silver uniforms hop out to scout the landing platform. Satisfied for the moment as to the lack of danger, the captain nods to the vehicle, and a set of steps drop. A striking woman with Italian features comes down, followed immediately by a short, undefinably ugly man. A second vehicle lands, disgorging another set of uniformed soldiers and four more individuals, two of which look identical.

The short, undefinably ugly man nods to the captain of the guard. "All right, standard protocols. I'd invite you in, but it's not my party. Just so we don't have any repeats of the last ball..." He glances quickly at his companion in red. "We'll stay in touch through the ear buds. Expect us to be at least a couple of hours, but it could run longer. If you need anything, you're free to call for supplies.

"Now then. Ladies and gentlemen, shall we?"

Five minutes later, a servant enters the ballroom looking bemused. He looks down at the card that was shoved into his hand (along with a few golden dubloons) before taking a deep breath.

"Lords and Ladies! Ladies and Gentlemen! Presenting the...Dread Lady Nathicana d'Aquisto, and the Emperor Devon Treznor. Presenting Queen Sentient...uh...HyperOptimized Data Access Network, Master Control Program of the Queendom of Zero-One and Prince Bari d'oh Kelderia. Presenting Queen Esmerelda d'oh Het Amid and Lieutenant Timofeyev Bondayehr of the Federated Segments of Scolopendra, Aerospace Directorate."

Devon Treznor steps into the room with Nathicana on his arm as his name is called. He glances around the room solemnly as the introductions are made, then winks. "Good man," he murmers. "Here's another ten for your troubles."

Nathicana makes a valiant attempt to quell the laughter and drags him off in search of their hostess.

Xeruyu vonKarma steps out from behind a pillar, in a simple high collar Japanese style tuxedo.

"What Devon, do I not count anymore?"

Dread Lady... Emperor... Queen... Prince... Queen... Lieutenant.

One of these things is not like the o-ther...

Getting used to that sense of dislocation, he walks next to the stately beauty with his usual half-smile and in full Officer and a Gentleman mode, utilitarian green-and-black uniform with wide red felt belt well-pressed and practically spotless.

"No worries, Tim," Nathicana had said earlier when they'd met up before their entrance and S.H.O.D.A.N. took her leave to walk with her husband. "She's just a goddess. Literally."

"Great," was the reply, half-smirking, "so I've gone from milling with world leaders to hobknobbing with deities? Are you sure I can't just--"

"No," Nathi responded immediately, and that was that.

Return to the present, and Timofeyev smiles to hide his usual 'extremely outclassed' feeling. He nods, smiles, and waves to a friendly face. I have no bloody idea what I'm doing. He looks up at Esmerelda and smiles with a respect that may border on fear. Jeez. I hope I don't have to dance. I'm no good at it.

Treznor turns and blinks in surprise. He recovers shortly and extends his hand. "Xeruyu, I didn't think you were coming. I didn't see you at the Midwinter Bloodfeast. I suppose I should have asked who else wanted to come, but I was originally thinking just Nath and I. I never expected it to snowball."

He turns slightly and gestures toward the servant still counting his gold. "If you tip him nicely, he does a pretty good job as a herald."

A few minutes after the previous group arrives, another sleek black aircar lands. Out of it steps two young men. Both of them wear simple uniforms that are dark blue with silver trim, the livery of the Cetagandan imperial family. One is slightly taller than the other, and has pitch black hair. The other, by comparison, has hair that is bright red. After pausing a moment, they enter the building, snagging a servant along the way.

"Emperor Gregor Miles Horatio Alistair dol'MacIntyre yos'Vetinari and King Consort Tarvi Thomas nae'Andivar yos'Vetinari, of the Imperial Union of Cetaganda!"

Gregor seaches the room to find the host, and spots her, as well as the crowd of familiar faces headed her way. The pair begin to to make their way over themselves. "My, my, the gang's all here," whispers Gregor as they walk.

"Joy. Say, isn't that poor man in the uniform that Bondayehr guy? Looks a bit uncomfortable. Can't imagine why," replies Tarvi.

Iosif perks up at the last name mentioned. Lucky bastard, gets to ride with, well, everyone for Christ's sake.
He frowns, looking down at his glossy black shoes, noticing a small scuff. Damnit, all I got was a lousy ride in a Loki gunship. Iosif pauses mentally, Oh wait, that kicked ass.

Iosif stared at the scuff for a few more moments, deciding it was mocking his hours of preperation. "We can zip about the galaxy at whim, and we still have to polish these damned things."

Iosif shrugs and inspects other parts of his uniform, focusing on the colorful braided rope around his left shoulder, the only thing that distinguished himself from most other cadets of the service.

He sloshed the punch in his drink about lazily, contemplating going over to great the bunch, but then deciding the tim would rather exchange witty banter with the national leaders, that and he wasn't really confortable with meeting new people, even more so when such people were Trium. Of all the places to be sent for the required diplomatic function, a party. I can't party.

So, Iosif went on a quest for food. Perhaps they have nachos, maybe a cheese log, or ice cream. Yeah, ice cream

"Eh, never been big on titles anyway. I heard about your recent adventures, I trust you and my favorite flight student are still mostly intact?"

*walks over to the Lieutenant wiht the cute half smile*

Honor to serve good Sir. WOuld you care to dance*

*curties low in front of him looking up into his eyes hopefully*

"You never could resist making a grand entrance, boy," Nathi says, the fingertips of one hand pressed delicately to her lips as her shoulders shake with quiet laughter.

She gives him a sidelong glance, lips turned up in an impish little grin as she nestles in a bit closer, one arm looped comfortably with his. "I recall a time rather a while ago when you strode into a party, all bluster and bravado. I nearly killed you on the spot."

Her smile brightens at seeing vonKarma, and she lets go of Devon long enough to greet the rugged man with a warm hug and a smile.

"Intact enough, vK," she says with a wry smile. "Some of us more intact than others, but ..." Nathi shoots Devon a sly wink, but tactfully refrains from making more mention of his rather 'unfortunate' injury.

The sight of Bondayehr and Esmerelda causes her brow to arch slightly, even as her grin increases a little.

By the look of him, I truly need to stop doing him 'favors', she thinks with a chuckle. Still, it'll be good for him - whether he likes it or not.

Gregor's entrance causes her to glance back again in surprise. "Christ, Dev ... what have you started here?"

Unlike the more lavish arrivals of her Triumvirate allies, the Shogunate's delegation consists of a single ten meter long aerospace fighter, its sleek lines colored in brilliant orange and yellow. After obtaining the required permissions and landing directions, the agile ship sets down next to the ship that brought Nathicana, Devon, and the others.

Damnit, I sooooo shouldn't've taken that bet with Tsume. Damn dragon always wins at Go!

The canopy flicks open with a soft hiss and the orange-armored figure of Firefury Amahira hops down. The armored reploid appears decidedly out of place as she jogs to catch up to the Trium arrivals. She gets within earshot just in time to hear the announcements of that group, and grins, getting a similiar idea.

A few minutes later, that same servant has been flagged down and paid off, and takes a deep breath to announce the newest arrival. "Lords and Ladies! Ladies and Gentlemen! Presenting Lady Firefury Amahira, the Wings of Vengence, the Fires of Pegasii, hero of the Amahira Uprising and Dividing War, Lady Shogun Eternal under the Wings of Chaos, representing the Immortal Shogunate and Affiliated Territories of Reploid Productions and member of the Triumvirate of Yut!"

Following the excessively long introduction, the orange reploid sweeps into the room... well, as well as an armored combat machine that doesn't wear dresses can sweep, at any rate, and gives a social grin and wave to the room before she chases down Shodey and Co.

"Oi! Shodey! Nathi! Dev!.... and... Lieutenant dude I haven't been introduced to yet!" Firefury stops up short. "No, I dunno why I'm here... I blame Tsume entirely for being too damn good at board games. S'up, all?"

"And that, my lady Firefury," says Tarvi as he and Gregor reach the group "is why there are so many old sayings about taking care when dealing with dragons."

"Thing as are quiet at home, no current worries with Melkor and company, seemed like as good as time as any to take a break," adds Gregor. "Evening, everyone. Pleasure to see you all."

vK returns the hug, and offers his hand to Devon.

"Well, good to know you made it through ok. Had my hands a bit full with the Awakened situation, this is my first chance to get out since before it happened."

He watches Firefury run/stumble up, trying, but failing to suppress a grin and a chuckle.

"Ah! Firefury! It has been too long since I've had the pleasure of your company! How are things in the Shogunate?"

Iosif looks up once more, still questing for ice cream. More Trium. officials? What's the policy on saluting foreign leaders? It's a good thing I'm just some unknown schmo.

Iosif wanders about, noticing some of the rather attractive lasses with gossamer black wings. Devils from paradise, or angels from Hell?

"Your Highness."

Bari stifles a half chuckle as he greets S.H.O.D.A.N. with a flourished bow, taking her hand and placing a slow kiss upon it.

"My darling, you are the picture of radiance."

With equal grace and pomp, Barry rises to take his bride's side, turning his head about the room and taking in the scene.

<LOS-Communication to S.H.O.D.A.N.>

{

<< Okay, you're really going to have to help me out here. I haven't done this in quite a while. So what is this backwater hellhole anyway?

}

~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, Esmerelda takes slow, small steps, a smooth glide across the floor to meet the Lieutenant. She allows him to take her gently by the arm, noting how relatively short he is next to her tall figure. She says little except "You look very handsome," a bit of a nervous quiver behind her voice.

Damn... I always choke on the floor. And I really hope I don't have to dance much.

As their host approaches, Esmerelda smiles politely. She starts to speak up, but it appears that she won't be greeted this day. Her smile unfading, she turns to Timofeyev and nods.

"Go ahead and dance with her," she says with a wink. "I'll go busy myself."

--reposted under the correct nation--

Treznor winks at Nathicana as he pulls at the silver bowtie for his tuxedo. "She carried me out of the jungle like a pro. Five years in the Army without a scratch, and I get my ass shot off dealing with one of her 'familiy' squabbles. Is that justice? Maybe there really is a God."

He notices activity out of the corner of his eye and sighs. "Looks like the Cadet...er...Lieutenant now, has already caught our hostess' eye. I guess the gifts will have to wait. Have you seen the buffet table? Dinner was almost an hour ago."

He stops in mid-step as more visitors arrive. "I don't know. I wasn't aware of being such a trend-setter. I didn't make any phone calls about this; remind me to talk to Ben about security." Then he shrugs and grins. "Oh, what the hell? Might as well make the most of it. Gregor! Amahira! Welcome to the party! No oxen this time, I promise."

Firefury waves one hand in a 'meh' sort of motion. "Things're as good as t'be expected, really. Got the Um Lizaans starting to settle in... of course, not being in tents as much is helpin' there. Got ATI all over the Awakening an' stuff.... the usual."

The reploid gives Tarvi a wry grin at the comment about dragons. "Yeah, yeah. Doesn't help that I suck at Go. Checkers, I can do. Chess... eh, I can kinda BS my way through. Go.... bah."

She glances at Tim, not having met the kid before. "And who's the sharply dressed non-national leader type in the group tonight? The infamous Bondayehr from that recent SNAFU over in the Dominion, I assume?"

"Even better than no oxen, Trez, is that my slightly overprotective aunt is 1.5 billionish kilometers away."

<LOS-Communication to S.H.O.D.A.N.>

{

<< Okay, you're really going to have to help me out here. I haven't done this in quite a while. So what is this backwater hellhole anyway?

}
S.H.O.D.A.N. smiles broadly, taking Bari's arm in her grey-skinned one.

<LOS-Communications to Bari>
{
<< I'm not entirely sure myself. It's new, and they want to expose their culture in a friendly setting. I'm quite honestly curious... and you're one to talk about coming from backwaters, dear. [grin analog]
}

"Shall we dance?"

Lieutenant Bondayehr finds things going rather quickly. The apparent hostess of this affair curtsies asking for a dance while he's still attached to someone described to him as a 'goddess.' Oi... this is a problem. Nodding respectfully to Esmerelda, he returns the hostess's gesture with a half-bow.

Think, Tim, be diplomatic. "Your question honors me, ma'am. If my escort gives me leave," he smiles again at the Goddess of the Emerald Isles, "I would be honored to accept." Geez, I hope that's the right thing to do. It's what they do in Tolstoy.

He does what he often does to cover up concern and self-doubt--he unconsciously half-smiles assertively.

Then Esmerelda gives her blessing, and the momentarily relief is broken by an instant of invisible panic. Wait. This means I dance now. "I'd be honored to accept this dance," he finds himself saying, running off of Russian literature he read several years ago.

<LOS-Communications to Bari>
{
<< I'm not entirely sure myself. It's new, and they want to expose their culture in a friendly setting. I'm quite honestly curious... and you're one to talk about coming from backwaters, dear. [grin analog]
}

<LOS-Communications to S.H.O.D.A.N.>
{
<< Oh, kiss my output port. [equals pee analog]
}

"Gladly."

Bari takes his bride's grey hand in his, placing the other on her waist. It takes him only a moment to pick up the ebb and flow of the instruments, and his feet and waist do the rest. Before long, the calculations of the machine and the observations of the man are sweeping both Bari and S.H.O.D.A.N. across the floor.

Bari smiles, lowering his sunglasses for a moment so only Shodey can see. "I've still got it." His eyebrow muscles tense and lower--a wink.

Chief Justice Wade nods his head looking at the spectacle before him. he heads to the bar and asks the abrtender for a double shot.

He gulps it down assertively and stands upon his cane. At 81 he was still as spry as a devil.

He looked around the room for a nice lady to dance with.

Iosif notices Tim being dragged to his doom. Doom being the dance floor. "Well this should be interesting" he says to no one in particular, as he positions himself to watch, forgetting his plan to go unnoticed.

It's at this point that Iosif realizes what's naggin at him. Alcohol. What's the drinking age in this bloody place.

He motions to a nearby servant.

"Excuse me miss, what is the minimal age of consumption for intoxicating beverages here?"

Noticing a man talk to a servant Wade goes over.

"Hello, I am Chief Justice Wade of Fultonia. How do you do this fine night?" He says as he taps his cane.

As Kolston sipped the wine, other things caught his attention, mainly the actions of his counterpart, President Harrison. He went back to the wine, while keeping an eye on Harrison.

Harrison, however, was busy enjoying himself. He had just knocked back a third gin and tonic that was mostly gin, and was mingling freely with other guests. The man was charismatic, most actors were, and easy going. However, he too watched Kolston, worried that the CEO would try something to push people against Hollywood.

Nathi leans back a bit to take a glance at Treznor's ass, only half-supressing a mischievous grin as she gives it a gentle squeeze. "Oh quit complaining. Shodey patched you up good as new. Besides - I'm sure you earned it somewhere along the line."

She takes the mentions of her recent 'difficulties' with smiles that are only slightly strained, glancing around the room to get a look at all the unfamiliar faces in attendance.

"Gregor, Queenie - good to see you both, and auntie-free it would seem," she replies, shooting Gregor a wink then continuing with a warm smile in Bondayehr's direction. "As for the b...young man there, aye - he's the one. Don't let the quiet effacing nature fool you. He's one helluva guy."

To both vonKarma and Amahira she asks "How is all that with the Awakened progressing? I hope it's not gotten entirely out of control."

Bondayehr's predicament doesn't go unnoticed, though she for her part, stays well back from it.

Unexpected, that, she ponders thoughtfully, hoping the man isn't hating her too much for putting him in this decidedly uncomfortable position.

Watching Bari and Shodey head for the dance floor, she glances again at Devon. "You did say you wanted the first one ..." Her words trail off as she notices President-General Butah however, and her eyes go a bit cold.

"Well look what the cat dragged in," she murmurs under her breath.

OOC: must leave for the night

The King Vampire Louis of The Gothic Underworld walks in with he unnatural liquid grace the undead are know to have. He sees that already there are many here. "Darn," he thought, "I'm late."

He fingers the vial of his own blood hanging on a necklace around his neck, looking for the Lady Serenity. He is hoping to present it to her as a memento of their time together......if he could find her........

Treznor grins and goes with the flow, greeting allies and friends alike. He nods sharply at the suggestion of a dance. "Bari and S.H.O.D.A.N. have already started. May as well give the Cadet...dammit, Lieutenant some moral support. Then you can have your sport with any young man that catches your eye. I see the Berserker fellow over there wondering how to get in on the action."

He frowns as he reads Nathicana's body language. "Do tell, Red." However, he doesn't allow it to distract him from leading the way to the dance floor and attempting something that approximates rhythm.

I suppose one of these days I oughta learn how to actually dance.

"Long story, long time ago," Nathi murmurs as she nestles in against Treznor, perhaps a bit closer than is truly warranted for this particular dance. "Back even before you made your reappearance, come to think of it. That man wasn't always running the show in Slutbum Wallah - oi, what a name that. We offered a bit of assistance at the time, and I'm still not certain what to make of some of what reportedly went on there. It just didn't make sense. I've seen a lot of odd things in my time, but honestly ... vampires? Things you could unload a full clip into before they'd slow up? I don't think so."

She shakes her head, frowning slightly at all the memories such a relatively trifling thing brings up, most of them relating to a certain dark-haired bodyguard who had charmed his way into her life in the twilight land of Gothicum.

"What I do know is he dealt with us dishonorably, was responsible for the death of a good number of my operatives, and the near loss of sanity in Massetti. Took a damn long while for that boy to be able to take on duties again, and still the mention of that incident gives him the shakes." She snorts quietly, firmly dismissing the thoughts as she leans in to kiss Devon's cheek.

"Did you notice our hostess, Dev? The last I saw such a thing was our onetime allies of Endless Crimes. Any relationship, do you suppose? And I thought sure I caught a glimpse of one of the Sakkran's here ... not an easy sort to miss, them." An obvious change of subject to be sure, and an unrepentant one to boot.

Treznor leans in close and goes for a dip that doesn't quite fit with the music. But it's fun and it does interesting things to Nathicana's dress. "Vampires, eh?" he says quietly. "They're supposed to be sensitive to fire and sunlight. I'd lay pretty good odds the rifles the guards are carrying will ruin their day. I'll put 'em on alert."

He chuckles at the obvious topic change. "Of course I noticed. Damned hard not to notice. But I think Metatron would have a fit if he heard you make the comparison. EC gets their wings from genemod. I doubt our hostess is related. If she came from there I bet they would have killed her the moment her defect was detected. They have white wings, remember.

"The Sakkra are here? I missed that one. We'll have to go say 'hi' after we're done here. Was it Kraah or Gorm, did you see?"

Hamilton moved swiftly aside when Marie-Serene began her dance with someone else. Calmly, Hamilton moved slowly towards a chair at the side of the ballroom. Sitting down, Hamilton closed his eyes and began to play back the conversations that he had heard...

He opened his eyes when he heard a certain voice speak out in the crowd. The Sakkra are here? I missed that one. We'll have to go say 'hi' after we're done here. Was it Kraah or Gorm, did you see?

"Sakkra!?! Death be damned..." Hamilton muttered.

His Excellency, Ruler of Freedoniaa, Rufus T. Firefly strides into the ballroom, his cigar aggressively juttting from under his nose, just below the large moustache above it. His walk is a curious mixture of a King proudly representing his land and the slink of a hotel guest sneaking out to beat a bill. As the trumeteer lifts his horn to his lips to play an appropriate fanfare, the king quickly stuffs his hat inside the horn's bell.

"Not so fast, Junior" he admonishes in a strange and unsual accent, "The horeses aren't ready to go to the gate yet. They're still feeding the mudder her fodder. And if you think that's strange you've never been in St. Louis during the Mardi Gras."

Moving on before the trumpeteer can reply, King Firefly strides through the room, bumping into men and leering at women and occasionally vice versa. Then he spots the Envoy, hostess for the evening, standing and talking to a tall, distinguished looking gentleman near the dancfloor. Taking a fimer jawhold on his cigar, he stride/slinks over to them.

"Here ya go, young fella," handing the startled gentleman a crisp banknote. "That's ten chicolinis. Go get me a martini and you can keep the change."

The envoy's eyes grew wide at this affrontery..and as diplomaticly as possible she whispers to him "Your Majesty! That is a senior general you just gave 10 chicolinis to!"

"Oh my," Firefly says, his countenence concerned. "A ranking general you say? I am sorry...here's twenty chicolinis and make sure it's shaken and not stirred."

The general's jaw tightens as he turns and strides away, his voice truly offended as he says "Well, I never!"

"And you never will as long as you keep wearing those silly pants" Firefly offers to his retreating back...then, turning to the Envoy with a respectful leer, he speaks....

"So you're the lady in charge of this fly-by-night opperation. Come to think of it, you look like you could do a little flying by night yourself. You look like a production of Madame Butterfly without the Madame....Why don't you come away with me? We can leave in a taxi...if you dont like that, we could leave in a huff...if that's too soon we can leave in a minute and a huff. Can't you see what I'm trying to say to you? I love you. Will you marry me? Are you rich? Answer the second question first!"

The ball had just begun.

Lord Azazel shook his head. There sure were some strange people at the ball, including a vampire. He knew 5CN well, they did have an embassy in Draconis Nightcrawlis after all, but these other nations he did not know. His eyes crossed the room to the host, Marie-Serene. This Sakkra he heard mentioned in the crowd sounded interesting, he wondered who or what they were.

Timofeyev discovers two things. Firstly, formal balls are not quite as structured as he'd previously thought. Secondly, everyone tends to make a bee-line for the hostess he's talking to.

Shrugging internally, the lieutenant half-smiles. Hey, I accepted. Either that gets accepted or I go find a strategic corner of wall and secure it for the rest of the night.

Nathicana grins wryly at Treznor, thinking she knows damn well the intent behind the dip.

"Imp. On several counts. 'Have my sport' indeed. It's not as though there aren't several rather delicious-looking possibilities here," she murmurs next to his ear once he rights her again. "As for the guards and all, you mistake me. Butah and his cronies I'm certain are all too human. This was some sort of internal problem. And ... you take that claim seriously, Dev? I suppose after all the other crazy things and races and such," she gestures casually at the room in general as they dance, "the existance of such might not be a complete myth, but I still say it's a load of merde."

Her eyes flicker between scanning the room, slipping back into her usual situational awareness more easily since their return from the back country, and looking over her partner with a smile somewhere between warm fondness and a bit of mischievous hunger.

"Now that you mention it, I do recall the white wings on Metatron, Uriel and the others ... yet see, there seems to be a mix of colors around. Ah well, perhaps one of them will do us the courtesey of explaining a bit once we get mingling more. With the Sakkra, I'm certain I didn't recognize their representative, though I'm rather certain he was a she."

Previously, in the Sakkran homeland....

Kraah rests in his suite at the city of Zzauud, overlooking construction plans for the upcoming H&K manufacturing facilities and office suites. Covering a total of 150 acres, including surrounding lands for employee residences and such, it promises to be quite an undertaking. Coordinating with the foremen of the numerous construction freelancers, everything goes at a good pace, but not a swift one. As it should be. By the Pantheon, I need a break. Two weeks of this already!

It is then that he receives a comm from his hatchling, Gorrm.
[code:1:f8b5486846]My sire...

There is a diplomatic event happening in one of those upstart nations that seem to be surfacing with regularity. I could not attend myself, as pressing issues here keep me, but your youngest hatchling has taken the initiative to attend with a guard.

It seems the the Triumvirate leaders are there, and she would be in unfamiliar lands and circumstance. Could you check in and make sure she is safe and sound?

Emperor Gorrm[/code:1:f8b5486846]

The approximation of a grin spreads along Kraah's face. "Ye cats! A party! Just what I need!" He stands from his desk and removes his viewing spectacles. Speaking to his aid on a direct-link comm, he leaves orders for the staff there to continue while he takes a sabbatical.

Presently.....

The massive form of a Titan II VTOL transport comes in low and fast over the horizon, and with a heady whoosh of turbo-thrust fans, lands gently despite its massive bulk. Advisor Kraah and his escort, a squad of TacSoft troopers, step out. After a bit of travel, they arrive at the door of the ambassadorial fuunction.

A human at the door begins to announce Kraah. "The Imperial Advisor Kraah, of the Empire of the Sakk.."

The 7'8" scaley reptile looks down, and chuffs. "Belay that racket! I've got my feeding gut on! So who's throwing this bash? I've got gifts to present." He looks around the crowd, and spies his youngest hatchling, Sseerla, attempting to mingle, and nearly tripping over her own gown. She spies her sire and rushes over, trailed by her escort.

Sseerla stops before him, and curtsies low. "My sire!" She stands back up. "I'm so glad you're here! This party is so full of stuffed shirts! But some of the Imperial Allies of the Trium are here. I haven't been able to greet them yet."

Kraah scours the room a bit, seeing familiar faces and uniforms. "It's fine, child. It's fine. I swear if I don't get something in my stomach soon, some 'guests' will start looking like snack-meats!"

After securing what he hoped was an alcoholic beverage that was safe for human consumption, Iosif noticed a man with a can walking over. Nice cane.
Noticing a man talk to a servant Wade goes over.

"Hello, I am Chief Justice Wade of Fultonia. How do you do this fine night?" He says as he taps his cane.

In a smooth motion Iosif brought his heels together, and dropped his hands and drink to his side. He faced the Chief Justice, "Good Evening Sir." Damnit how do I deal with foreign dignitaries?

Iosif suddenly wanted to chug the drink in his hands, but restrained himself.
"Cadet 3rd Class Iosif Zolkin, TYCS."

Dorusceronis fiddled with his sleeves as he entered the ball. Turning toward him, Atanracnad spoke.

"Is there something wrong brother?"

"I'm still not used to these transformations, we should have just come in our natural forms", Dorusceronis replied.

"I disagree; that may have alarmed the guests. Appearing as humans is much better."

"I suppose. Well, we might as well try to enjoy ourselves."

Dorusceronis had chosen a form with long blonde hair, deep blue eyes and a muscular body. He was clad in a very elaborate navy blue suit with gold and silver trimmings, somewhat like a general's formal wear.

Atanracnad appeared in his prefered human form, with black hair and a <Small Pointy beard - don't know why this got changed into "g0at">, with dark eyes that seemed to pierce into one's soul. His jet black suit was comparatively plain, but impeccably neat.

Looking around to spot the hostess, Dorusceronis noticed that Atanracnad seemed preoccupied. He was not looking at anything in particular. Dorusceronis tried to get his attention.

"Atanracnad?"

Atanracnad turned slowly, his thoughts returned to the current time and place.

"I'm not happy with both of us leaving The Underground City. Perhaps I should return."

"I don't think that's necessary", his brother countered. "Thintaedkran can take care of the City by himself. We've nothing to worry about. Now, you greet the other guests while I go to find the hostess."

With that Dorusceronis walked off toward Marie-Serene. Meanwhile, Atanracnad headed over to a group of guests.

"Greetings", he introduced himself. "I am Atanracnad YlimNeicna, brother to the Supreme Dictator of The Underground City, Dorusceronis. I trust you are all having a pleasant evening?"

OOC: Somebody... remebered? After all that time somebody actually recalls my finest hour? I didn't... I mean I...*Bursts into tears*

IC:

Butah was shaking as Jacobs the dubious bodyguard was carried out of the hall by an accomplice of Tamworth's. Shaking with fury. "You dare to jepordise my safety just to capture one Dreguk spy?!" He hissed, clenching and unclenching his fists in at attempt to pull back from throttling Tamworth in front of several hundred witnesses. "Don't you remember who I am?! When I get back to the Palace you will be hung by the neck until death for treason!"

Tamworth sat back down camly and faced the Ambassador-General across the tabletop. "Not just a spy. An assassin. You were to be killed by midday at the latest. Seven hours ago. My forces were unable to reach you so I made sure you came here, stopping off at plenty of busy airports and security stations along the way. Once again I apologize for the inconvenience but you were completely safe all along, though I can not say the same for the moment."

Butah tried to calm down, but raised an eyebrow quizzically at the last remark. Suspecting Tamworth traitorous actions, he halfway reached for his gun. Tamworth stayed immobile, "Don't look now but we're being watched, it seems I picked the wrong venue."

Blunthorpe, the nervously fidgeting regional ambassador, looked directly towards the group with all the subtlety of a falling brick, "Oh no sir, you needn't worry about them. Dread lady Nathicana of..."

"Shut up, Blunthorpe." Snapped Tamworth and the Ambassador-General in usion. Butah was ready to punch the man, "What will you do with Jacobs?" ha asked.

"Kill him. We can hardly sneak him through customs and Dregruk Elites can take months to break. He'll be found dead in the morning with a bullet to the brain. Not very subtle but even if they do ever trace it back to us we can lose the inquiry in the paperwork."

Wade chuckled and tapped his cane loudly on teh nice ballroom floor. "No need for salutes or rank sir. I was a military man myself once. Lt. General Wade Stevens. Always hated dealing with people on these foriegn get togethers."

He pulls out two fine laced cigars that smells sweet even from a distance. "Not much on etiquette but after you swig that drink down would you like to join me in a cigar?"

Lord Azazel laughed to himself as he listened in on the vampires conversation. Foolish to hide ones appearence no matter what the guests would have though.

"Human form is weak," he muttered to himself.

Mario looked at Hamilton and told Angelo to wheel him over.

"Ahh, Mr. Crusade," He began in his classic almost move-perfect mobster accent, "I see that you are a man of status, a man of power. I believe that you and I could somehow work out some sort of business deal. You see, Mikatopia is a dictatorship, it seizes all the money it can for itself, so men like me have it very hard. Plus, they are cracking down on some of my operations, I'm losing money, and we both know that such a thing is not a good thing at all..."

Rachel, Empress of Cozayman enters the room in her green gown and walks around the ballroom scanning the crowd.

A man comes over to her to offer a drink and Rachel takes the glass and sips from it.

Treznor grins unapologetically. "Naturally. I didn't invite you to join me just for your dazzling wit and political prowess." He comes in close and glances around the room. "Hmm...all the same it sounds like this Butah fellow bears watching. Especially his people. I'll be happier if I've got him in our own crosshairs if he causes trouble. As for the Sakkra, if it's someone we haven't met then we'll just have to introduce ourselves. We can't leave her to play wallflower, can we?"

Simultaneously, he directs a closed transmission message.

<LOS Communications - Nathicana>
{
<< Doubt that there are vampires? I doubted the existence of psychics, mages, mythical dragons, gods and all the rest. Now we're hobnobbing with all that and more. Do I believe in vampires? I'll allow for the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he's human, maybe he isn't. If a vampire decides to attack, we'll find out what UV rifles do to them.

<< Don't look now, but I think we're attracting a bit of attention. I guess we'd best keep the verbal foreplay light and fuzzy.
}

He places a kiss on her neck and whispers, "Think we can get away like last time?"

Wade chuckled and tapped his cane loudly on teh nice ballroom floor. "No need for salutes or rank sir. I was a military man myself once. Lt. General Wade Stevens. Always hated dealing with people on these foriegn get togethers."

He pulls out two fine laced cigars that smells sweet even from a distance. "Not much on etiquette but after you swig that drink down would you like to join me in a cigar?"

Iosif weakly chuckles and relaxes Well this isn't so bad.
He takes a swig of the drink, immediately regretting the large gulp, Ack, that's strong. Tastes good though, almost like a strawberry vodka

Deciding he needed something to boast about to the Lieutenant, Iosif accepted the cigar, gingerly sniffing it like he'd seen in one too many movies. God I look like an idiot

"Thank you General Stevens. Where do you hail from?"

<LOS Communications - Devon>
{
<< Bah. As if anything I say will stop you from taking steps. As for all that other, aye, granted, there are more things between heaven and earth than can be rationally accounted, still.

Nathicana gives the indelicate Blunthorpe a sidelong look, tilting up her chin imperiously, then dismisses him and the rest of the table with an unconcerned sniff.

<< Damned if I'll creep around the likes of him, boy. Still ... point taken.
}

She slides in a bit closer to him, arms gently wrapping 'round his shoulders a little tighter. "Oh, I'd imagine if we tried we could find the time and place, aye," she whispers hotly near his ear. "Big place ... and have you noted the beautiful artwork and architecture? Delightful place to get lost in ... Oh!"

With a teasing shift of her hips she laughs softly. "I think that's Kraah coming in now - and he and the other Sakkran seem to be on familiar terms. So - do we stick around for more meet and greet, or ..."

Nathi trails off deliberately, letting her fingertips trail lightly down along his right arm, blue eyes full of mischief.

<LOS Communications - Shodey>
{
<< You two look great, sis. [hug analog] I hope you're enjoying yourselves? I've no idea what Dev was thinking with this, but all the same ... a little lightheartedness does seem appropriate enough.

<< I've the impression I've misstepped again however with our good Scolopendran. This will make the second 'favor' that's turned out to be no favor, though hopefully this one turns out to be nothing worse than mild annoyance. Bah.
}

Treznor winks. "Delightful architecture, indeed! They probably have search parties ready to go for just such an emergency. I think we should take advantage of the opportunity to learn more of the native culture."

He cranes his head around to see what she's talking about. "Kraah decided to crash? This should be fun. He's probably going to want to demonstrate his prowess at gorging again. But we can greet him now and gorge later, I promise. We have other business to attend to, and then we can attend to...business."

He takes Nathicana's hand in his own and kisses the fingertips one by one.

Kraah casts eyes about, his hatchling ducking behind him and her escort trying to size up Kraah. Finally, he backs down after Kraah gives him a display; crest fully raised, eyelids narrowed and tympanum wavering.

The Imperial Advisor lets his eyes lazily drift around the room, until he spies Treznor and the Dread Lady Nathicana. It seemed like they were planning something. Probably try to sneak off for a 'quicky'. Heh heh heh. "Hrar! I spy familiar countenances!" With a lurch he points the troopers to the direction he had laid out, which was a bee-line through a crowded room.

One arm raises in greeting. "Ho ho, fair Emperor and Dread Lady. The cycles are kind to you. You look quite refreshed after your ... debacle?" A passing waitperson finds her drink tray emptied of libations as Kraah's massive hand swipes out and snatches the 4 glasses of wine on the tray. He passes one to Seerla, one to her escort, and one in each of his hands.

He draws closer, most likely startling some of the less observant guests, until he's in easy earshot. "2nd Lieutenant Sshrrakaa filed a comprehensive report shortly before beginning training with the Stellar Rangers, a new branch that my hatchling Gorrm and General Garrm decided needed to be in existance. Quite a mess there. But you are safe and sound, good Emperor and dear Lady."

"Ah. My manners. This is my youngest hatchling Seerla, studying and training for the diplomatic corp. Following in her sire's footsteps, so to speak. And her escort." He turns to Hhssou. "Speak up, boy! Introduce yourself."

The escort grunts at Kraah, and bows slightly. "Pilot Hhssou, lord and lady."

"I hail from the Grand Republic of Fultonia. I have been Chief Justice for the last 5 years and a Justice on the Supreme Court for 10." He lit the cigar with his silver plated lighter and took a deep breath. Real men inhaled.

"So Iosof, what is your business tonight?"

* a chime ceases the music and announces dinner. Curties politly to her dance partner*

Dinner is ready my guests, if you will all proceed to the dining hall where I will serve you all.

*notices the Vampire King Louis as he passes her by in the flow of guests to the dining hall*

We shall speak later after diner Your Highness where we can catch up on events... If that is good for you?

"Well Nathi, it has been tough. People I have known for years I no longer recognize, a lot of people are having trouble adjusting. Especially in Suunto. Rather not talk about that here though. I can say that some of...your citizens...are helping out though."

He looks around and spots the bar. As the chime sounds.

"I need a drink, can I get you two anything before we go sit down?"

Blinking, Second Lieutenant Bondayehr resists the urge to scratch the back of his head. He does allow himself to frown slightly, though, seeing how his hostess' back is turned. Well... that's odd... she asks to dance, I accept, and... now what? I was going to ask her about her culture and people, too. Damn.

Not being able to win for losing, he sighs to himself and follows the crowd into the dining hall, feeling very small. To keep his head up he studies the other delegates; for some reason, he finds himself slightly comforted in the fact that a ten-millimeter powergun sidearm is part of the standard uniform. He is in the military, after all... and the profession of arms isn't about galas and parties. Nevertheless, he keeps to the back of the progression, looking around.

Hrm. I don't see Queen Esmerelda anywhere... Dev and Nathi are... well... Dev and Nathi... Iosif is talking to Mr. Big and Important over there... hum. He sighs gently. Well, puts me in a standard situation. All by my lonesome. Ouch but that hurt.

No longer even attempting to feign amusement or happiness, Timofeyev starts looking for a section of wall that looks unsturdy and may need buttressing.

Nathicana meets Treznor’s gaze with a quiet intensity, unable to suppress a little shiver of pleasure as he kisses her fingertips. “Boy, you keep that up and so help me,” she whispers quietly, a smile he knows all too well turning up the corners of her lips.

Kraah’s greeting shakes her from her reverie, and she blinks, then turns with a genuine smile to offer a greeting of her own, one hand still twined with Devon’s. “Delighted to see you, Advisor Kraah! And dare I say, quite pleased to hear Sshrrakaa is doing so well. She does your people proud, and I consider myself personally indebted to her. You’ll have to update me on this new branch – it sounds interesting.”

She courtesies gracefully to Seerla, and Hhssou, offering her hand in greeting to each. “A distinct pleasure,” she says to Seerla before nodding firmly to Hhssou. “Pilot,” she says simply, sensing a lot of fluff wouldn’t go over well with that one.

The chime catches her off guard, and she looks around instinctively to locate those she recognizes – counting heads as it were to assure herself all was well. “Just an ice water, Xeruyu, if you’re willing,” she murmurs to vK’s offer of a drink. The sight of Tim looking decidedly uncomfortable causes her brows to furrow, and she bites her lower lip wondering what had gone wrong already to cause that.

Oh bloody hell …

"Ah, food. The real reason people attend these things," remarks Tarvi as they head for the dining room.

"What is that supposed to mean?" asks Gregor. "I am the ruler of billions of people and insanely rich, and so are Nathi, Trez, Shodey - well, she doesn't eat, but whatever - Kraah, and that second lieutentant - erm, ignore him, too. We can eat whatever we want. It not like we're starving or anything."

"You can claim whatever you want, I will continue to believe that I'm right. Just look at this stampede for the door. And that giant lizard looks ready to eat someone."

"Don't be silly. They don't eat people."

"Then why was Hyooman invented?" Tarvi says innocently.

Gregor mutters something under his breath as he slides into a chair.

* a chime ceases the music and announces dinner. Curties politly to her dance partner*

Dinner is ready my guests, if you will all proceed to the dining hall where I will serve you all.

*notices the Vampire King Louis as he passes her by in the flow of guests to the dining hall*

We shall speak later after diner Your Highness where we can catch up on events... If that is good for you?

That would be just fine for me, my love, but oh, do remember to tell your servants to serve me only blood wine, remember? And......

*leans over and kisses her lightly. A human kiss, not the vampire's kiss*

[whispers] I missed you. Talk later.

Bari makes his way to the dining room immediately at the chimes, mumbling something about how this had better be anything but fish.

Esmerelda, meanwhile, glides through the crowd with ease, peeking over the head of each guest. Her eyes dart from one side of the room to the other until she at last discovers young Timofeyev. Her eyes turn downcast and back up the same moment, and at once she finds herself easing her way through the crowd and toward her date. As she approaches, she offers a gentle smile.

"I thought you were trying to get rid of me," she says. "So how was your dance?"

Treznor winks knowingly and turns with Nathicana to greet the latest dignitary. "It's good to see you again, Kraah. Thanks for the kind words, but with S.H.O.D.A.N.'s help I came through with nothing more than a bad memory and a story we won't be telling the kids." He glances meaningfully at Nathicana, whom he knows is trying not to laugh at the reminder.

"Seerla, it's a pleasure to meet you. It's a pleasant surprise to see friendly folk like yourself at social occasions. Do you share your Sire's passion for opera?" He also nods politely to Pilot, following Nathicana's lead. "Delighted, Sir."

Xeruyu's comment does not go unheeded. "If they've got a decent Scotch, I might join you. We must have arrived later than I expected if they're already serving dinner."

Kraah clasps Nathi's hand as she extends it. "Indeed it is, Dread Lady Nathicana. I keep apprised of their development, and it promises to be most interesting. Nothing I can talk about in the situation we find ourselves in, but perhaps later..."

A conspiratorial look comes over his face in the from of narrowed eyes and a slight puffing of his cheeks. "That Sshrrakaa has been tapped by the Admiral for this, considering how she handled your ... situation?...in such a speedy fashion."

Seerla curtsies and takes the offered hands in their turn. "Dread Lady, an honor. You have quite the reputation amongst the Diplomatic Corp. Emperor Devon, I am not such an afficianado as my sire, but I have taken in a production or two. Mother insists on it." Hhssou also takes the hand, and shakes far more gingerly than one would expect. "An honor, Dread Lady." He bows low to Devon, and then places a small leather cap on his head.

The chiming of the dinner bell sounds, and the announcement is made. 'Hrar! Food! Fortunate timing that my weekly feeding lands on this day! I assume that poultry will not be on the menu, yes? I may be mistaken." An awful growling sound is heard in the vicinity, and Kraah has a sheepish look on his face. "Hmmm...most fortunate indeed. Come, my belly! Let's get something in you to keep you busy!"

Sseerla looks as Kraah begins to stride off. She then turns to Nathicana and Devon. "He's always like this at feeding. The stomach commands and all that. Hhssou, we should follow before he eats the table in its entirety."

The pilot tips his cap slightly. "Hrrmm." Looking to the Dread Lady and Emperor treznor, he extends his arm before him in an 'after you' fashion.

That would be just fine for me, my love, but oh, do remember to tell your servants to serve me only blood wine, remember? And......

*leans over and kisses her lightly. A human kiss, not the vampire's kiss*

[whispers] I missed you. Talk later.

*blushes slightly and prepares to serve her guests. Curties politely and whispers lightly*
M'Lord I have not forgotten your tastes. the wine served to you tonight is fresh of my very own veins.

Please my guests be seated now.

"I thought you were trying to get rid of me," she says. "So how was your dance?"
"Hardly, ma'am," the lieutenant replies as he looks up, "I was just put into... ah... an interesting situation that required diplomacy and I did my best," he explains with a wry half-smile. "As for the second part, what dance? I accepted when you said it was okay and then she sorta wandered off."

Bondayehr shrugs eloquently. "I guess I'm just repellent or something." Joking half-smile. "Well, we're to be seated. Shall we?"

Heading to the appropriate place at the table, Lieutenant Bondayehr takes out Esmerelda's chair for her and makes sure she's seated first before taking his own. "Heh. Just like dining out. Good ol' regulations."

Esmerelda's smile is unfading as she gazes softly down at Timofeyev. "You're certainly anything but repellant," she says. "I wouldn't have looked for you again if you weren't anything but charming."

As the two walk through the crowd, she leans down to the young lieutenant and whispers. "And don't worry about the angel... thing. She rubs me the wrong way."

She nods a silent "Thank you" as Timofeyev pulls out her seat and sits down, placing her napkin in her lap.

*glides gracefully to the middle of the room and begins to glow in a midnight blue aura. Above the heads of each of her guests a plate forms and spins along with silverware, side dishes ceter pieces and whole table settings all in the national style of each guest. Each place setting lowers slowly in front of each guests where they sit lightly and the favorite food of each guest appears on their plate. Several centerpieces carry foods and delacasies of Marie-Serena for her guests to try on their own*

Please enjoy my guests... if you need anything ask of my servants.

*curties politly and heads for the terrace*

"I hail from the Grand Republic of Fultonia. I have been Chief Justice for the last 5 years and a Justice on the Supreme Court for 10." He lit the cigar with his silver plated lighter and took a deep breath. Real men inhaled.

"So Iosof, what is your business tonight?""Extra credit if you would believe. That and getting some culture and all that jazz. If you'll excuse me sir, it's been a pleasure, but I must be going."

Iosif wanders over to his table, drink in hand and unlit cigar clenched in his teeth. He eyes the table, noting those standing about it. Aww crap, I'm the lowest ranked. He double takes, Double crap it's the Trium table. Well, here goes my future career down the drain., and takes another swig.

Timofeyev looks over at Esmerelda to ensure everything is going well. Hrm. She's almost quieter than I am. His mind works as he prepares his own napkin and identifies cutlery in his head. Lessee... if I'm her escort, it's my job to ensure she's having a good time. It doesn't look like it. Perhaps conversation... but how does one talk to a goddess?

I mean, this is the same Esmerelda of the Outset Isles that the Third Expeditionary sorta fought. I understand that was a sort of rampancy, but... Another status-identifying look, balanced by its presence within a standard situational-awareness sweep. That's irrelevant at the moment. Okay.

Remember what Dad said.

People is people.

The lieutenant catches Iosif in the corner of his eye and waves in a subdued fashion. Gotta catch up with him. Later. He then turns to Esmerelda and smiles sincerely. "I know... these sorts of things aren't quite my favorite either," he says quietly, "but one tends to meet interesting people at them and that is their saving grace. What's it like on the Outsets? Things have been quiet as of late... I hope everything is well."

Wade sat down in a chair finished smoking his cigar and slid out of the occasion leaving a note with a servant that he had a most splendid time and that further relations between the two nations should be increased. He needed to head abck to the airplane and then to Fultonia to meet with the President.

Nathi laughs softly, her hand pressed delicately against her lips at Devon’s comment. “The kids, no, but you never made me promise not to tell anyone else, dear. Now if they choose to tell them … not my fault.” She shoots him an impish grin, then arches a brow at Seerla’s comment.

“I? A reputation? Oh surely not …I do?” A single blink, unsure of quite what to think of that. Il dio, I hope to hell it isn’t too bad a one.

To Kraah she replies with a solemn nod. “Understood completely on the updates. This is certainly not the place. As for your once-cadet, I’m not a bit surprised. Very much impressed with the strength of character in her, not to mention her willingness to risk so much for a friend,” she says, nodding in the direction of Bondayehr.

She follows Devon’s lead, nodding and smiling in thanks to Hhssou as he graciously waves them on. She is infinitely relieved to see Tim and Esmerelda together again, though she bites her lower lip worriedly, remembering his earlier expression.

Once seated at the table, she watches the decidedly unique method of serving dinner with surprise, catching a passing comment from their hostess that causes her to shiver with no small amount of trepidation.

That … just isn’t right. What sort of twisted types are those two? Drinking blood …was she serious?

vK returns from his exodus to the bar and takes a seat across from Nathi and Trez. He sets a glass of ice water in front of Nathi and a glass with ice in front of Treznor and himself.

"Told the bartender I couldn't carry 3 full glasses, so I conned the bottle out of him." vK grins as he produces an expensive looking bottle of double malt. He pours an ample amount in each glass. "This should hold us over for awhile, kampai!" He grins again, tilts his glass foward and takes a healthy sip of the drink.

Treznor laughs and accepts the glass from vonKarma. "You dog, you know didn't have to con anyone. Has it been that long since you've been to a party? I should get Nath to start hosting formal gatherings: Miss Manners 101. If you use the wrong fork, she stabs your hand with it." He raises his glass in honour of the toast. "Salud."

<LOS Communications - Nathicana>
{
<< You know, you've been a very good girl, of late. I think you can risk a glass of wine or two without straining anything. If you feel like it, that is.
}

Once seated at the table, Lord Azazel began to hope that the food didn't taste as foul as the drinks did earlier. Still silent, he listened in on the conversations of others, he could easily pick out something that would be of interest to him.

Kraah and his retinue take thier seats at the table. As all take their places, the spinning plates appear and settle before them. Sseerla giggles and claps her hands. "Ooh, magickies! Hee hee hee!"

Hhssou looks at his plate, and "Grrmph"s. He then pushes his plate away, and glares at it.

Kraah, however, has his eyes widened and his crest fully raised. The faint scent of cinnamon begins to waft forth from him. "What manner of foul trickery is this!? It is an insult! And the food is wrong! I do not eat flowers!" He glares at his plate as if it was an enemy, and begins growling in a low rumble.

Iosif pokes at the food. Well what's the point of coming to get some culture if their simply going to 'poof' my favorite food into place. Iosif continues staring at the spicy Puerco Pibil, noting the side of spanish rice and peppers.

Iosif prepares to sample the roasted meat, when he notes the large Sakkran next to him looking pissed and growling. Oh bloody hell.
He wasn't completely defenseless, but might as well be. Still can't control it yet, damnit all

*paces the terrace under full moonlight wondering how the first course is going. It is a tradition for the hostess not to be around for the first course when it is served that way. She swayed back and forth weakly. Hopefully the second course would be announced soon she was tired. The Lady Serenity looked up at the moon and stretched her wings nervously be fore sitting shakily on the bench*

“Grazie, Xeruyu,” Nathi says with a smile, raising her glass in turn, then sipping contentedly. She chuckles at Devon’s quip about formal gatherings, and gives him a dig in the side under the cover of the table with a finger at the more private message.

“I recall the last time I hauled your sorry drunken ass around, Dev,” she says with a mischievous little grin. “Pondering a repeat performance?”

<LOS Communications – Devon>
{
<< A … good girl, is it? Boy, you keep that attitude up and so help me, I’ll … [scowl analog] Just you mind your own damn business that way, boy. I’m just fine, and I’m not about to muddy my senses in a place I’m not familiar with, even if a glass or two won’t do a damn thing. It’s the principle, and it’s what I’ve always done. One needn’t rely so heavily on additions and augments that one forgets who they are, you know.

<< And after a week of canteen water, I bloody well enjoy my usual ice-cold drink.
}

She slowly scans the tables, making eye contact where she can with her fellow revelers, whether she knows them or not, each offered a quiet, charming smile if the gesture is recognized. The aroma wafting up from her plate is indeed delicious, and she takes a moment to simply savor it.

A spinach Orzo pasta mix serves as a bed for the delicately prepared broiled salmon, covered in a light sauce. Oil-packed vegetables, a side salad of mixed lettuce and spinach leaves with vinagrette dressing, a small loaf of herbed bread served hot, with a golden crisp crust along with a delightfully aromatic dipping oil accompany the meal, and Nathi smiles as she looks it all over with approval. She arches a brow at the Sakkran’s obvious distress, but tastes a bit of the salmon and pasta without fear, dismissing entirely her argument earlier to Devon about relying on augments such as her toxin extractor.

“So,” she says to those around her, whomever they may be, “I trust we’re all enjoying ourselves well enough?”

Not bad … not bad at all. I wonder how they managed that little trick? And christ, I hope this doesn’t end in disaster. I can sense the tension in a good half these people without even trying. Oi. And where in hell is our hostess? Certainly not a patch on Dominion hospitality, this, she can't help but think with an arch little sniff.

"Enjoying myself as always," Lord Azazel remarked. He looked around at those at the table. "Now where has that Hostess gone to?"

Butah was still visbily shaken from discovering he was not as safe as he had assumed. "Unless you have other business to discuss," He announced coldly, "I wish to return to the Palace and begin preparations for possible war with Dregruk."

Blunthorpe, hurt and dismayed though he was, was not about to lose his single chance at gaining a little bit of power in his position, "Ambassador-General, not that you are here wouldn't it be wiser to at least meet with some of the local leaders? It could increase our standing manyfold in the region and it would barely take..."

"Blunthorpe, don't you ever..!" Butah began but Tamworth cut in, "Butah sir, leaving at this point would be viewed as suspicious and even insulting. My division is already overworked and under pressure and creating another batch of countries to be kept under supervision will not help matters. At least stay until after the meal, I have business to attend to here in the city but will meet up with you on the return journey."

Butah glared balefully at the pair, deciding that once he got back he would take the time to have them investigated by his own Secret Service operatives. He held Tamworth's eyes for almost half a minute before giving up and submitting. He stood up and began making his way to his position at the table. At least they weren't about to feed him any of their own foreign muck...

Lord Azazel laughed to himself as he listened in on the vampires conversation. Foolish to hide ones appearence no matter what the guests would have though.

"Human form is weak," he muttered to himself.

OOC: Were you referring to Dorusceronis and Atanracnad of The Underground City? They are not vampires.
Picture of Dorusceronis (http://www.bbfree.com/shadowrp/uploads/post-15-1076464609.jpg)
Picture of Atanracnad (http://www.bbfree.com/shadowrp/uploads/post-15-1076467268.jpg)
(sorry if you were talking about someone else)

IC:

Dorusceronis and Atanracnad had sat down at the dinner table. On Atanracnad's recommendation, Dorusceronis had ordered a steak.

"It seems that everyone here already know each other", Dorusceronis commented. "Makes it difficult for us to meet new people. Perhaps we should have hosted our own banquet."

Seeing Atanracnad cut into his steak using the knife and fork provided. Dorusceronis imitated his motions, until the correct use of the cutlery became clear. Atanracnad had posed as a human before, but this was the first time for Dorusceronis. He put a piece of steak into his mouth warily and began to chew. Pleasantly surprised by the taste, Dorusceronis calmed down and enjoyed the meal.

Having finished his steak, Dorusceronis turned to the dignitary next to him and introduced himself.

"Good evening", he said. "My name is Dorusceronis YlimNeicna, ruler of The Underground City. With whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?"

(OOC: I have no idea who is supposed to be sitting where, so anyone who is not otherwise engaged can take on the role)

*glides back into the room as everyone finishes thier meals. The chimes sound the end of the first course and servants with baby blue wings enter the hall carrying covered platters of shining white gold*

Hello my guests. I hope you enjoyed your first course. It is customary to feed foriengers their own kinds of foods first in case they do not enjoy the more local delecaises. What you are about to eat has not even been touched by royal hands in some time. It is moon soup. The waters for this soup come from our most holy place the River Falls. It is made from several rare vegetables and the rice like grain grows abundantly at the top of Heights Mountain.
*the servant uncover thier platers in a simultaneoud flourish and begin placing bowls of a steamy, dark, stew-like soup As Lady Serenity glides to the empty chair at the front table and is served last as is customary*

Enjoy my guests but do not feel it is an insult to not eat.

"Gregor, what is this?" Tarvi says, poking a fork at a slab of some kind of meat on his plate.

"No idea. I think it was supposed to be our favorite food or something," Gregor responds glumly. "I suppose this is what we get for having good mental barriers. Just eat it, even if this place is a little more than a bac -er, is not a major ally, there's no reason to offend them." At the same time, Gregor thinks, 'Just as well he didn't hear our host's comment, I suppose. Damn my enhanced senses."

Tarvi pokes it some more, then glances to his right as he hears a rumbling noise - and then upward. "Ah, um, Lord Kraah. Food not to your liking? Feel free to take mine." Even as he offers, however, the first course is taken away and is replaced with some kind of soup. "Um...never mind."

“Nathicana D’Aquisto of the Dominion,” Nathi says to Azazel by way of introduction. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure?”

The answer to the hostess question comes with her reappearance, and the Dread Lady pauses politely to listen to the explanation. She examines the soup with interest, waiting for Serenity to take her seat before sampling a spoonful of it herself.

Interesting flavour. Can’t say as I’ve ever had the like, she ponders thoughtfully, remaining attentive to those seated near her as etiquette (and her own personal interest) demands. Heightened hearing is a wonderful attribute to have, especially, in her opinion, the sort provided by Shodey. She takes note of names and titles, glancing to connect those names with faces for later retrieval and possible conversation.

Ever vigillant, she can’t help but think with a secretive little smile, reaching under the table to give Devon’s thigh a gentle squeeze.

Treznor brandishes a spoon and tastes the soup. Hmm...seems a little bland. He takes another spoonful. A moment later he repents from his hasty opinion. Okay, that's different. It just takes a minute for the flavour to kick in. I wonder how it does as leftovers?

<LOS Communications - Nathicana>
{
<< Oh relax, Red. What kind of letch would I be if I didn't attempt to enable you? Plus, I thought you'd appreciate recognition of the fact that you have been good about it. We can wait to get sloshed when we get home and have more time to enjoy it.

<< I think we should definitely go study the architecture of this place after the meal is finished.
}

He leans back and glances around. "You know, Kraah, a true master of gorging doesn't shy away from foods that are unfamiliar to him. Sure, vegetable-based foods may be unfit for Sakkran tastebuds, but you're not on Sslaa, are you?" He grins.

"So anyway, what inspired folks to turn this into a semi-Triumvirate gathering? I don't want anyone to think I'm not happy to see them; I think this is a great opportunity for us to improve our public image. I just didn't expect it."

OOC: Sorry I thought they were, my mistake.

IC:

Lord Azazel paused for a moment. "I am Lord Azazel of Draconis Nightclawlis," He replied. "It is a pleasure to meet you Nathicana D'Aquisto."

He then sampled the soup, "Interesting," he remarked.

"My dear Devon. With myself, as you may know, culinary daredevilry is a hobby. But it was the presentation that took me aback. A meal that is not prepared carefully, skillfully and with a love of the art is a meal not eaten. This soup, however.." And with that he takes his spoon, and samples some of it. "Mmm...indeed it is subtle. You can taste the care put into it. It quells me for now."

Seerla nearly picks up the soup with her hands and downs it in one shot, but a side-long look of admonition from Kraah stops her in her tracks. She does likewise with the spoon, and allows it to fall into her palate.

Hhssou stirs the soup a bit, lazily watching the bits of rice floating about before he tries it.He registers no opinion, but eats slowly and deliberately.

"Well, I showed up because I happened to see that some of you had responded to the invitation and thought it might be some good PR to visit a small nation like this. Not to mention, of course, the chance to meet with my colleagues in a less formal and stressful manner than usual," says Gregor, taking a sip of his soup. "Hmm, an interesting taste."

"Ignore the diplospeak. The real reason he showed up was the food," interjects Tarvi.

Gregor rolls his eyes. "What he means by that, of course, is that I delight in learning more about other cultures, part of which includes local food."

"Translation: I like yummy things, and hope that there will be a desert."

The shadowy Mage-Lord of Blackmageria enters the room, late as always.

"Why can't I ever be on time..."

As is his wont, he finds a corner of the room, making no move to engage anyone in conversation, and proceeds to watch everyone eat.

"What if she poisoned the food... the leaders of countless nations could be killed... oh well, more territory for me to expand to, I suppose."

Treznor chuckles slightly and leans forward, distracting from the fact that his hand has dropped accidentally into Nathicana's lap. From there, he makes a surrupticious assault on the beachheads.

"So tell me, Mister Tarvi, right? How is it you've survived this long in Gregor's service without having your tongue surgically removed? Or are you testing a new government function, Gregor? 'Ego Checker,' or something? I am genuinely curious, here."

*looks at all the various expressions on her guests faces as they test the soup in front of them.. most seem to be pleased others seem to be wary... looks at the dark robed figure as he enters rolling her eyes at his lateness.. always late....*

*Continues eating the soup even she has not tasted in some time*

Gregor rolls his eyes, while Tarvi laughs. "Ah, Emperor Treznor, the Cetagandan monarchy has a long history of putting up with people such as me. It started sixteen centuries ago with the founders themselves," Tarvi explains. "Aidan the First and his followers knew that, in the long run, its always best that leaders have an accurate assesment of themselves, both by themselves and by others; not to mention have a bit of humility. People who are far to full of themselves, like Matty Iesus or, I suspect, Tall, Dark, and Mysteeeerious over there in the corner," Tarvi waggles his fingers as he says mysterious, "tend to be the types who start wars over what they view as personal affronts. Clan Vetinari brings up their children to have senses of humor at the same time they're trained as leaders."

Tarvi's voice becomes a bit more serious. "Of course, there is a limit, as it wouldn't do to have the monarch look ridiculous before his subjects. Ribbing like this is usually confined to family, friends, and a few select advisors, and in more private settings. The press and others are much more formal and staid when they want to critize a policy. Its rare that the Imperial goverment has the actually deal with any of the more...flagrant attacks that some democracies often see; in the long period of time that the Vetinaris have ruled, a balance has evolved over what will and will not be tolerated." Tarvi the smiles broadly. "As for my position, well, I'm sure Gregor has a few words on that, don't you?"

Gregor snorts. "As I should. You see, Devon, I seem to have gotten myself stuck with him. A short time after my mother's death, I began to realize that an Emperor makes an even more attractive target for every gold-digging, influence-seeking woman and slash or parent with a marriable daughter in the system than a Crown Prince does. So, I did what seemed like the best choice at the time: I married this lowlife sitting beside me."

"You say that as if you hadn't planned on doing so after you graduated anyways."

"Whatever. Alas, I am now doomed to suffer his so-called 'wit' for the rest of my life. Pity me." A moment later, a roll bounces off the side of Gregor's head. When he turns, Travi looks around innocently, then points a finger at Kraah. "He did it."

Kraah spots the accusatory finger as he lowers his head to spoon more soup in. He swallows, and sits up in his chair. He shrugs his shoulders and almost looks confused. "What?"

Sseerla giggles and whispers in his ear-hole. "They're messing around with each other. Must be that mammalian flirting i've heard about."

Realization seems to dawn on Kraah. "Ah. Very well. Commence with your rituals!" He waves a hand and continues eating.

((OOC: Cripes, I take a day off and miss some three pages of chatter!))

Firefury quirks an eyebrow at the dinner magic, and tips her chair back slightly. "S'too bad reploids can't eat. Probably pretty tasty. I guess." The orange reploid looks sorely out of place amid the formalwear and mostly good manners. She spots Tim at the end of the table and wanders down, with more than just a trace of the skyjock swagger from back in her days as a fighter pilot. "So, boyo, don't think we've been introduced yet, and I'm quite frankly bored half t'death here. Name's Firefury Amahira. S'up?"

The raven-haired woman laughs softly at all the banter, putting on her most demure look, and dropping her gaze for a moment in mock humility.

“You know what brings me, of course. I’m simply here to look as pretty as I can on Devon’s arm,” she says, shifting a bit in her chair and ruining the act with a mischievous little smile.

<LOS Communications – Devon>
{
<< Why you wicked, wicked man … Just a bit to the left, hmm?

<< As for that other, mi dispiace. Call it nerves, call it being overly sensitive, what have you. What say I make it up to you when we have a moment to ourselves? That ‘study trip’ is sounding better by the minute. As for wine – my place or yours? I’ll bring the Delacourt either way.
}

She lets her own hand continue to wander, when she registers a new introduction from one of two gentlemen she’d noticed earlier. Turning her face to Dorusceronis with a smile, she takes up her water to whet her lips, inclining her head politely. “Nathicana D’Aquisto, Dread Lady of the Dominion – or so I’ve come to be called,” she says by way of introduction. “Come to think of it, as so many of our alliance seem to have come, I may as well point out the lot to you.”

Nathi starts with those closest, guiding with her eyes and gesturing slightly with her glass when needed, to avoid any rude pointing out. “This devilish gentleman with me is Emperor Devon Treznor, who’s nation shares his name, and next to him there, Xeruyu vonKarma, ruler of Karmabaijan. There we have Emperor Gregor Vetinari of Cetaganda and his consort, Tarvi, Advisor Kraah, sire to Emperor Gorm of Sakkra, his hatchling Sseerla and pilot Hhssou. Towards the end there is Queen Esmerelda of the Outset Islands and Lieutenant Timofeyev Bondayehr of Scolopendra, (a damn fine young man if I do say so myself), and Queen Amahira Firefury of the Shogunate – Reploid Productions. The lovely E.I. avatar just over there is S.H.O.D.A.N., Queen of Zero-One and her husband Prince Bari, Esmerelda’s son of the SLAGLands, and it would seem, by his dress, another member of the Triumvirate Aerospace forces I’m not yet familiar with. Something I shall have to remedy.”

Glancing about to see if she’d missed anyone and hoping to heaven she hadn’t, she takes another quick sip of her water, and flashes both gentlemen from the Underground Cave a brilliant smile. “And, if that wasn’t enough to overwhelm you all at once … perhaps you could tell me something of yourselves? I can say as I’m familiar with your nation.”

(ooc: I'm not certain on seating arrangements either, but hey, may as well have fun with things, neh?)

Inbetween conversing with Esmerelda, because certainly one can converse with two people politely simultaneously:
Firefury quirks an eyebrow at the dinnermagic, and tips her chair back slightly. "S'too bad reploids can't eat. Probably pretty tasty. I guess." The orange reploid looks sorely out of place amid the formalwear and mostly good manners. She spots Tim at the end of the table and wanders down, with more than just a trace of the skyjock swagger from back in her days as a fighter pilot. "So, boyo, don't think we've been introduced yet, and I'm quite frankly bored half t'death here. Name's Firefury Amahira. S'up?"
Timofeyev forcibly prevents his right eyebrow from quirking up at the introduction, replacing it with the usual easy half-smile. So the stories are true, I see. Jeebus, Triumvirate leadership seems unusually easy to talk to. Queen Firefury (unknowingly) enjoyed the status of folk hero and patron saint to the Aerospace Directorate's cadet corps, because any world leader who is also an ace fighter-pilot just has to be respected.

"Timofeyev Bondayehr. Namuch." Noting the lack of titles and formality, he foregoes it as well. "Well, I can't say I signed up to go to balls, but at least the food is good and the company better." He takes another bite of soup; it is actually quite good. Sorta like the pho at the Vietnamese restaurant back home... "Anyhoo, where's my semblance of manners?"

He indicates Esmerelda with one hand. "Queen Esmerelda, this is"--hand sweeps to the Reploid--"Queen Firefury. Queen Firefury,"--hand sweeps back--"Queen Esmerelda. And I, the bloodspot," he chuckles as he indicates the second-lieutenant's red pips on his collar, "find myself outclassed once again. I'm kinda getting used to it."

Firefury grins and waves to Esme. "S'all cool. Hate these formal get togethers. S'what the diplomats are for." The reploid makes a face and plops down in a nearby chair. "And eh, dun worry 'bout feeling outclassed. I always feel outta place at these sorts of gatherings. All pomp and formal BS, y'know? Much rather be takin' my bird for a spin and rattlin' some windows. Nothing quite beats a supersonic flyover of a large city at a low altitude. Pisses people off like you would not believe!"

Bondayehr chuckles. "I've heard of the Ticks pulling off low-altitude Mach 6 airshows for psyops purposes. Sounds like fun, if I were on the pilot track." The lieutenant makes a face. "For that matter, it'd be nice if I knew exactly what track I was on. After my little bout of heroics and immediate commission right after, I think they're still trying to figure out what to do with me. I don't even know how much I can talk about it."

"Before I go into detail about my nation I would introduce my brother, Atanracnad", said Dorusceronis, pointing to his brother. "He is my second-in-command and most-trusted advisor."

Atanracnad smiled, and nodded his head slightly - a small bow.

Dorusceronis continued, "Having founded The Underground City, I have ruled it for as long as it has existed. How long would you say that is, brother?"

"Approximately six earth millenia", Atanracnad replied.

"Anything in particular you would like to know about our nation? We are very open to trade. Many corporations have found success basing themselves in The Underground City. Perhaps you would even be interested in trading with us yourself? Or did you mean to ask about our culture? The Underground City is quite multicultural, having many citizens who immigrated from or who are descendants of immigrants from other worlds. Beings that enjoy sunshine are usually not wont to live in The Underground City, for reasons that are obvious from the name, though, that said, there is not a great deal of sunshine on the surface of Niogoul-Maeromirpli either due to its thickly clouded atmosphere."

Dorusceronis paused for thought, then continued.

"It is seldom that we meet with other national leaders. I think it is time that The Underground City made an effort to befriend some more nations".

OOC: For history of The Underground City, see http://www.freewebs.com/thenewgalaxy/the_underground_city.html

The reploid gives the former cadet a big grin. "If y'ask me, it ain't so much what they do with you as it'd be what you wanna do with you. I mean hell, given the heroics back there, I wouldn't be surprised if you got yer pick of commands or assignments or whatever." Firefury shrugs. "Or get behind the flight stick of one of those contraptions coming out of Camp R or somethin'. I'm seeing future Sky Marshal material m'self. Those boys need a sound head without all the egomaniacal behavior that the jet jocks tend to develop." She grins at the shot at her fellow maniac ilk.

She pauses for a second, hands lifted like she was framing something. "Sky Marshal Bondayehr... I think s'got a nice ring to it, hmm?"

Kraah finally finishes his soup, and turns to the hostess. "Quite a subtle palate on the soup. My compliments to the Preparers. A fine combination of spices and native ingredients." He pushes the bowl away a few inches, and wipes his mouth with a cloth.

"Now then, it seems the esteemed Queen Firefury has decided to grace us with her metallic presence." A short bow after standing up. "Your ferrous presence graces and enlightens us." He sits down again, to a ribbing from Sseerla.

"Sheeeee, Pop. You just love teasing people. I swear, Mother would skin you for that if she were here. A-hrrm..." She cocks her head at Nathicana, with a mischevious look in her eye. "Dear Lady, I would love to hear of your exploits since the extraction. WOuld you share?"

"I know... these sorts of things aren't quite my favorite either," he says quietly, "but one tends to meet interesting people at them and that is their saving grace. What's it like on the Outsets? Things have been quiet as of late... I hope everything is well."

Esmerelda's eyes turn down as the magical flying dishes take their magical flying place at the table. She begins stirring her drink with her index finger, gazing into the glass as if into a crystal ball.

"Well," she says, "I'm sure you're smart enough to figure out that things weren't going well. Bari--you may know him better as Bodyguard Barry, of course--Bari was exiled to the Outsets under suspicion of conspiring with terrorists. This was, of course, in part due to the high anti-Il Adib sentiment that was running high in The SLAGLands for quite some time... but that's a completely different story."

She looks up and smiles before turning back to her drink.

"It's a rather long and complicated story, but a lot of the anti-Adib sentiment was perpetuated by this... uh..." She looks up at the ceiling. "Minister of... the Treasury? Money? Financial Affairs? Ah, well, it's not important." She chuckles softly. "Basically, the man--Doned McIntyre, I believe his name was--was a crook, keeping the hate going to further his own agenda. Once he was found out, Bari's name was cleared. Really, now, it's just become a matter of rebuilding from a pretty nasty cold war."

She turns back to Timofeyev, licking the wine from her index finger.

"Essentially, it's just been a long period of unneeded paranoia and quiet, all because of one guy's selfishness. I'm quite glad we don't have to deal with that again."

At Queen Firefury's approach, Esmerelda backs down a bit in her chair and returns to her food. She listens a bit to all of the conversation of spacecraft and military rank, but she seems in over her league. She nervously sips at her soup.

Bondayehr notes Esmerelda shying away from the conversation. Hrm. Okay... not good. Analysis: Amihara here has no problems concerning sociability. No need to draw out or focus attention on. "I dunno... with the amount of cross-training they're planning, that certainly is a possibility." The lieutenant grins wryly, then looks back over to Esmerelda.

"Of course, there's an unusual amount of diplomatic training being planned because of my equally unusual propensity to manage to meet world leaders in settings of near-equality. I figure I might as well learn while I'm here... so how do you manage acting on the world scene?"

“Quite pleased to make your acquaintance, Atanracnad,” she begins, then pauses as if she hadn’t heard quite right. “Six … millenia?” Nathicana looks both the men over with a more intent gaze, one brow arched inquisitively. A decidedly long-lived race it seems. Strange … they look human enough. Just remember, ‘more things between heaven and hell’ …

“I hardly know where to start,” she says with a smile, brushing a stray whisp of dark hair back behind her ear. “Truth, I’ve always found it useful to hear what people chose to share. Oftimes it can tell one quite a bit about them. Still, I gather already that you are not a Sol-based nation, that being the case, logic states that you must have considerable technology levels which could be rather enticing for trade. The multicultural aspect of course appeals on several levels.”

She pauses to take a slow sip of water, feeling a familiar ‘pricking of the skin’ sensation as she looks the pair over again. Damn paranoia … quit it. Simple conversation, getting to know folks – just like I’ve always done. Not everyone is out to get me after all.

“Coming from the rather sun-drenched Mediterranean, I’m afraid I have a difficult time picturing this wold of yours, but still, would enjoy learning more about it. I don’t suppose you could give me a point of reference for the location of your system?” she says, looking at them over the rim of her glass. “As for that last, indeed – always good to get out to meet and greet a bit.”

Sseerla’s question seems to take her aback slightly, and she shoots Treznor a sidelong glance before chuckling softly. “Ah, what’s to tell? Continued efforts to clean things up a bit back home are underway, along with the usual hustle and bustle of trying to hold it all together …” Nathi clears her throat lightly, then takes another sip of her water. “Business as usual, really.”

Firefury gives a shrug at the question. "You tell me- forty or so years later and I still don't get it. Oi, Esme, you got any ideas on the subject? Me, I just have Tsume translate my messages into diplospeak. The baka dragon sees it as an interesting challenge."

The reploid shifts slightly, her tone mocking. "'Oi! Tsume, send a message that $NATION can kiss my shiny metal ass!'" She shifts again, tone a parody of Tsume. "'Let's see... tell $NATION that we must respectfully decline their offer...'" Firefury tips her chair back on two legs. "You can just imagine what more hostile messages sounded like before Tsume cleans 'em up!"

Treznor swallows the food in his mouth and smiles at Sseerla. "We're not at liberty to discuss matters of such a sensitive nature. In other words, we're not yet ready to brag about it. But I will say that it's been a marvelous opportunity to introduce some long-overdue changes."

Then he turns his attention back to the other individuals addressing Nathicana. Six millennia, eh? Well, if I can give vampires the benefit of the doubt, I guess I can allow for immortals.

"Is Niogoul-Maeromirpli similar to Earth, beyond its weather patterns? You gentlemen pass easily for human, but such a lifespan would suggest otherwise. I can only imagine that your world doesn't have much of a varied agricultural diet as we would understand it. Without active sunlight, I understand our biosphere would die within a matter of weeks or months. What do you think would serve for equitable trade between our worlds?"

"Indeed, we are not Sol-based. The planet resides in the Tryanik-Guhexhoj'n star system. Our method of transportation here was not spacecraft, however. We created a portal using a manipulation of energies known as magics. Magics are usually performed without the aid of technology, it is hard to explain - we have scientific facilities performing research on the subject, but I have not familiarised myself with their results so far".

Dorusceronis paused.

"As for Niogoul-Maeromirpli, it is true that there is little sunlight due to the cloud layer, and few photosynthesising life-forms exist there. The agricultural system on the surface is indeed poor, but that is more due to our father's politics than any atmospheric conditions."

"I think calling his activities 'politics' is a bit generous", Atanracnad interjected.

"Agreed, he was little more than a thug, raiding the tribespeople. In fact, they only reverted to tribes due to him. Niogoul-Maeromirpli was once a great kingdom under the reign of the YlimNeicna family. Our father is quite the stain on our family legacy.

Food for The Underground City is produced by organisms that rely on other sources of energy, such as the heat and chemicals that rise from the centre of the earth, and from creatures that feed on these organisms. This of course, occurs in caves deep underneath the planet's surface."

Noticing people's difficulty accepting their human forms, Dorusceronis felt the charade had gone on long enough. Atanracnad could be over-cautious at times. The deception was unnecessary. After all, there were other non-humans here.

"Truth be told, this is not our natural form", said Dorusceronis. "Our species name is 'Velfodnerset'. Atanracnad felt that the other guests might be alarmed by our natural appearance. However, I do not believe this is the case. If you wish, I can show you my undisguised appearance. I shall have to transform back again afterward, however, due to the furniture's size constraints. Would you like a demonstration? I understand that it is impolite to leave the table during a meal, so I can't wait till afterwards, if you would like one then."

Atanracnad looked somewhat worried, but said nothing.

Treznor blinks as he assimilates this new information. Magic. Concealed forms. Too big for the furniture. Um.

"Thank you, your candor is most refreshing. However, I won't question the wisdom of your disguise. Perhaps a more informal setting would be appropriate. We can certainly discuss an exchange of ambassadors and see what goods are suitable for trade."

He winks at Nathicana.

<LOS Communications - Nathicana>
{
<< You know, Grant's been whining about the "poor quality of assignments" coming his way, lately. Think a trip to a dark, gloomy world of monsters would still his tongue?
}

Oops. "furniture," not "future."

OOC:
Too big for the future.

I assume that was a typo. It's furniture.

IC:

"Oh, and you were interested in trade, Nathicana? That is certainly possible. We have many technologies available for trade. Is there any particular kind you are interested in?"

Gregor enters the conversation between the Trium pair and the two from the Underground city. "I imagine that those food plants you mentioned might be useful in terraforming efforts or on minor colony worlds. Hydroponics are useful to a point, but having a food source that didn't require such resource-intensive methods could be even better."

Meanwhile, Tarvi laughs at Firefury's comments. "Sometimes I wonder what would happen if leaders forgot all this polite b.s. and just said what they meant. Of course, saying something plainly might cause some politicians' heads to explode, but would that really be a bad thing?"

"An interesting environment you seem to have, gentlemen," Nathi replies thoughtfully. "Perhaps, on the issue of trade, we might have much to offer in return by way of our agricultural sector. Produce, meats, wine ... that is, if such things appeal. Though I can't say as our people use ah ... 'magic' to do anything, we do have technology capable of outsystem travel."

<LOS Communications - Devon>
{
<< [laugh analog] You are an evil, evil man ... don't ever change. Still, considering, I'd give those Catherine and Charles a bonus for this job. I can't imagine the hysterics they'd have to deal with on this one.
}

"How you choose to represent yourselves is of course, your business. I can't say as I disagree with the choice if this is a new venue for yourselves. Wise discernment is seldom punished, after all, though overzealousness can often lead to unintended disasters. I would be honored of course, for you to share your trust so, though I agree with Devon here on the 'more informal setting', and discussion of ambassadorial exchange. Such decisions ought not be made lightly, though I daresay over a pleasant meal is the proper place for business discussions."

"Of course it would be a bad thing." Kraah cuts in. "Imagine all those political head-meats making a mess on my Mantle of Office. The dry-clean bills alone would bankrupt the Empire." He leans forward on the table and steeples his fingers.

"But a bit more candor and a bit less spin would go a long way towards mis-understandings not taking place. Of course, that would lead to a lot more war, but that is the cost of honesty." He leans back in his chair agian, and pats his belly. "I certainly hope that wasn't the sum of the meal."

Sseerla leans on Kraah a bit. "I'm certain it wasn't, Sire." She then leans towards the Dread lady and Devon. "Oh, we can't have you spilling the beans, so to speak, on the luscious details. Fair enough, i'll drop that for now until some official release. There WILL be an official release, right?"

Hhssou, in the meantime, has taken an interest in the delegates from the Underground City, and keeps one eye on them. Not human. In disguise. WHat other tricks do they keep hidden?

Dorusceronis turned to Gregor. "The organisms could be useful to you, but it is worth remembering that they require appropriate locations to grow. If there are no appropriate natural caverns, it may be a costly venture. And, of course, if there are such caverns, similar organisms may already live there."

He then turned to Nathicana once more.

"Not many people do use magic", said Dorusceronis. "The learning and practice of magic is too time-consuming for some, and most tasks can be accomplished with appropriate technologies anyway.

"I'm sure many people would welcome your agricultural products. While they may not satisfy the tastes of some citizens, others may love them.

"If anyone is interested in visiting The Underground City, I would like to point out that we do have artificial lighting, though the amount depends on your location within The City."

Nathi picks up some of the comments from the others, and takes on an expression of mock shock, putting her free hand delicately to her mouth, eyes wide.

"But ... but ... whatever would we do without spin, Tarvi? And you, Kraah - you're a businessman. Certainly you know the value of a good PR front," she says with a sly grin that mellows into one of genuine warmth as she finishes. "Not to say that honesty does not have its place - among friends, there's seldom need for anything but."

To Sseerla, she nods sagely. "Oh, I've no doubt that many things will become more clear in the near future."

She nods and smiles to Dorusceronis' replies. "Of that I have no doubt - 'tis just an environment that I daresay our people would find quite different. I wonder ... cultures and such, even the more mystic has been something Pacci has looked into before ... Aye, I can't help but think such visits would help bring a bit of clarity to both nations."

(OOC: Gah... Too many people!!!)

Hamilton Crusade quickly retreated to the corner of the room, his claustraphobia slowly and suddenly hitting him. Grimacing as he tightly clutched his head, Hamilton staggered towards the exit, intent upon escaping the morass of people and the suddenly tiny room. His mind screamed uselessly, begging to be free from its suffocation and free from the pain.

Luckily, Hamilton managed to stagger past the crowds and exit the ballroom. Finding a small sidedoor, Hamilton swiftly pushed it open and walked through, exiting the palace and into the grounds...

(OOC: Gah... Too many people!!!)

Hamilton Crusade quickly retreated to the corner of the room, his claustraphobia slowly and suddenly hitting him. Grimacing as he tightly clutched his head, Hamilton staggered towards the exit, intent upon escaping the morass of people and the suddenly tiny room. His mind screamed uselessly, begging to be free from its suffocation and free from the pain.

Luckily, Hamilton managed to stagger past the crowds and exit the ballroom. Finding a small sidedoor, Hamilton swiftly pushed it open and walked through, exiting the palace and into the grounds...

The King Vampire Louis was out on the palace grounds at this time, wandering about in the dark night and partaking of the stars, while savouring a wine cup of blood wine, courtesy of Lady Serena. Being a vampire, he couldn't eat in the human sense, and therefore has decided to pass up the dinner.....even though there could be valuable alliances to be made from a simple thing like a dinner, it would be weird to be sitting there with blood on his table amongst humans. It would just take away everyone's appetite, he knew that. Therefore, he had nothing to do but wait. Then, he saw a young man stagger out of the palace.

"I wonder if he's okay?", Louis thought. He looked pale, and was sweating. He could almost smell the fear from this young one, even though Louis himself was not the cause for it. Moving quickly and yet so silently as to be unheard, hoping against hope that the young human would not freak out at being face to face with an unnatural being such as himself, he placed his hands on the young human's shoulder, before the young one knew it.

"Hey, you feeling fine?"

Hamilton took a deep breath as he looked at the figure that had moved to assist him. With a chill, Hamilton realized the paleness of his skin and a glint of small big teeth behind his concerned look. Straightening his back and attempting to not show his fear, Hamilton replied, "No I'm fine... Damn claustraphobia hit..."

Hamilton shrugged as he looked closely at the creature that had moved to assist him...

Treznor finishes his soup and dabs his lips with a napkin. He looks around to see what the hostess is up to, then leans back to stretch. "Well, I don't know about you folks but I could use a little walk. At risk of being rude, I'll excuse myself and go find the little boys' room. Don't start the music without me!"

<LOS Communications - Nathicana>
{
<< It occurs to me that this little toy of ours allows us to play some...interesting games. You wanna count to a hundred, while I hide?
}

<LOS Communications - Devon>
{
<< You know, Dev ... I like the way your wicked little mind works. Going to hint me, or shall I describe what I see and play the hot/cold thing, hmm?
}

"Try not to get too lost, Dev," Nathi teases, her smile decidedly mischievous as she watches him get up. "I'll count the moments, dear, as always."

Treznor bows gently to the assembled bodies at the table and turns to the left.

<LOS Communications - Nathicana>
{
<< Hot and cold. Definitely hot and cold. See you soon!
}

He continues out of the room and down the hallway, noting with amusement he actually found the men's room. He bypasses it in search of more exciting locations.

Hmm...maybe the gardens? Or perhaps the servants' quarters? Master bedroom? Nah, no need to create an international incident...

<LOS Communications - Devon>
{
<< Damn you man, you've got me all ... [cough analog] Lets see how hot we can keep things then. Just remember, there's a range.
}

She waves with just her fingertips as he departs, assuming a look of casual nonchalance, as she starts counting ... rather quickly.

Uno, due, tre, quattro, cinque, ah bloody hell, dieci, quindici, venti, venticinque ...

Glancing around at the others, she nods and smiles at conversations going on, but seems a touch distracted nonetheless to the more observant.

OOC: wow this is a popular thread Maria-Serena...that's good i gave you the idea for you to start it...lol

Kraah makes a mental note of Devon getting up and walking off. Bah! Those silly humans have no stomach. I'm ready for the next course. He looks to a fidgety Sseerla, and lays a hand on her shoulder. "Why don't you and Hhssou take in some fresh air. Papa has business to conduct here."

She gives the approximation of a smile, and nods her head quickly. "Okay. Hhssou, come on and explore the gardens with me some, hmm?"

Hhssou cuts loose with a "Hrrrmph" that doesn't sound as grumpy as it usually does. He eyballs the guests at the table a moment before standing up and following Sseerla.

Kraah leans forward on the table. "Now then my dear Dread Lady. I believe we were once talking about importing some of your nation's premium oils and wine in exchange for .... are you okay? You seem distracted."

Iosif eats the soup, eyes wandering about the table and the dining hall, making note of the various peoples. Hmmm, tastes like egg drop soup At this thought Iosif remembers Crab rangoon from a small chinese eatery near his home. I wonder if I can get another magical plate of food.

Lieutenant Bondayehr notes Devon's departure in passing, then taking care to notice the flicker in Nathi's eyes when they used their particular little talent and had nothing else to concentrate on overmuch.

He can't help but chuckle quietly before continuing to hopefully draw the unusually uncommunicative Esmerelda out for conversation.

Blinking, Nathi turns to Kraah looking momentarily confused. "I ... ah, that is, we were?" Quickly settling herself, completely losing count, she breaks into her usual disarming smile she puts on when talking shop.

"Fine, fine, Advisor. If I'm distracted, call it but mulling over recent events. As for the trade, of course we'd be interested. I would imagine my trade minister, Bernardo di Medici would have all the figures we need to hash this out more effectively. I'm afraid you caught me offguard," she finishes with a grin, eyes flickering ever so briefly in the direction Devon had gone.

"And dare I say," she continued, leaning in just a bit, "That you have a lovely daughter. No doubt takes after her father in more than just charm?"

Oi, Dev ... well, I did rush my counting after all ...

"I wonder where he's going," says Gregor, watching Treznor leave the room.

"At a guess, Gregor, I'd say he's going to the restroom," replies his husband.

Gregor shakes his head slowly, watching Nathi from the corner of his eye. "No, Nathi's got a look in her eyes. Something evil is afoot, Tarvi, and I'm not talking about orangutan boy."

"Powers save us if Bari gets any ideas."

Hamilton took a deep breath as he looked at the figure that had moved to assist him. With a chill, Hamilton realized the paleness of his skin and a glint of small big teeth behind his concerned look. Straightening his back and attempting to not show his fear, Hamilton replied, "No I'm fine... Damn claustraphobia hit..."

Hamilton shrugged as he looked closely at the creature that had moved to assist him...

"No good, he's freaking out," thought Louis as the young man turned to face him. It was to his credit that the young man did not totally lose it, but managed to keep his cool against what Louis knew he thought was someone who would send him to meet his Maker......whatever the Maker is. Using his powers, he tried to clam the young man down through hypnosis. It worked, and the young man cooled down visibly.....still scared someone, but at least he was no longer on the edge of panic.

"Please to make your acquaintance. I am King Louis of the Gothic Underworld, or what most of my people, and no doubt most of yours, would know as the nation of Atros." Louis extended his hand in greeting.

*rises up as everyone finishes thier second course and announces*

The second course will be along shortly... Feel free to move about here or have a quick dance before we continue our meal. It seems our cooks are having some troubles....

*curties lowly and makes her way back out to the terrace to gaze up at the moonlight while sitting tiredly at her bench her back to a hedge*

Hamilton took the hand and limply shook it as he replied, "My name is Hamilton Crusade, Crown Prince of the Five Civilized Nations, and its Finance Minister."

Hearing a noise behind him, Hamilton whirled around his hand moving to a cunningly sheathed dueling dagger at his hip. From the moonlight, Hamilton recognized the figure of Marie-Serena sitting quietly at the terrace. Shaking his head to remove the daze, Hamilton dropped his hand and glanced back at the creature that had confronted him.

"Pardon me, your majesty, but it seems that our hostess has problems..."

Lord Azazel decided to stretch his legs before the next course. Standing up from the table, he looked around to see what the others were doing before walking off.

Hamilton took the hand and limply shook it as he replied, "My name is Hamilton Crusade, Crown Prince of the Five Civilized Nations, and its Finance Minister."

Hearing a noise behind him, Hamilton whirled around his hand moving to a cunningly sheathed dueling dagger at his hip. From the moonlight, Hamilton recognized the figure of Marie-Serena sitting quietly at the terrace. Shaking his head to remove the daze, Hamilton dropped his hand and glanced back at the creature that had confronted him.

"Pardon me, your majesty, but it seems that our hostess has problems..."

"Yes, so I see." replied Louis. He watched as his secret lover seemed to lose all her energy. It isn't like her.....perhaps there was a problem?

"Excuse me, my Prince, but we must talk some other time." He bowed, then took his leave of the Crown Prince and made his way to the Lady.

"My Lady Serena, is anything the problem?"

(OOC: Secret Lover!?!)

Hamilton shuddered when the creature left. Slowly Hamilton walked towards the terrace, his pace uneven and disoriented, his eyes watching and his ears listening...

Kraah leans back in his chair, and clasps his hands over his belly. "Hrr hrr. That girl is a piece of work, alright. She certainly seems to foolow in my footsteps. but I always let my hatchlings choose their own path. We'll see what the future holds."

"I'll talk with this Bernanrdo di Medici. Is he descended from the Medici line famous during the human Renaissance era?" He hears the hostess mention of the trouble with the cooks. "Bah! Maybe I should have brought my own private Preparers. They'd have all of us stuffed before you could turn your head twice."

He leans over to the table and whispers a bit. "This is becoming quite a debacle here, eh?"

Politely excusing herself from Bari's side, S.H.O.D.A.N. steps out of the dining room and onto the seemingly popular terrace, population three. Scanning the area, she notes that the pale one and the winged one were muttering quietly, obviously not wanting to be overheard... not that they are doing a great job of it, mind you, but the Gestalt certainly isn't to go out of her way to pry.

That leaves the one who seemingly intended to pry. Smiling secretly to herself, S.H.O.D.A.N. decides to play interference. Walking easily towards Hamilton, silouetted in the twilight by the self-illuminated pattern of networked fiber optics glowing a gentle green over her grey skin, she waves gracefully as she hails in her usually low feminine voice. "Good evening. It is a beautiful night, is it not?"

vK overhears Firefury talking to Bondyaher. He glances over with a chuckle.

"Queenie, you aren't bending the poor lieutenant's ear with stories of your heroic pilotng are you? From what I hear he is a much more cultutred person than that." He laughs again. "On the other hand, I would probably be doing the same thing. Speaking of Camp R, I happen to have brought one of their neew toys with me. Managed to grab one of the Kunai prototypes before they put them all away in storage. I think you would probably like it: Fast, sleek, does some interesting things that I shouldn't talk about in here, and did I mention fast?"

He leans over to the table and whispers a bit. "This is becoming quite a debacle here, eh?"

"I think I'm forced to agree," replies Gregor. "If I ever have a party, I'll make sure that there's plenty of roast beast ready ahead of time. Or maybe just have everyone meet at a local bar."

"You know," Tarvi says as he leans back in his chair and studies the ceiling," the way this is going, I bet you could eat the table and they wouldn't even notice."

"I'm giving that option serious consideration. But for now, the stomach is satisfied. I won't guarantee how it will be in a few minutes, though." Kraah pats his stomach, and rubs it as one might rub a small child's head.

"But tell me, how fares your people, and yourselves? I don't believe we've met formally or otherwise. I am Advisor Kraah."

"You know, I hadn't ever thought to ask," Nathi says, blinking. "Given his skills, somehow I wouldn't be a bit surprised, now that you mention it. Still, perhaps we could arrange something more personal for you. I could at least promise you good fare - we in the Dominion pride ourselves, after all, on our hospitality. I imagine even your rather legendary appetites could be properly sated."

She grins, winking slyly at the large reptillian. "I remember the barbeque in Treznor, after all. Seriously, lets set aside some time where we could set up such a visit. Such business ought to be conducted over a fine meal with good drink in a comfortable location, after all. It's only proper."

Glancing around, she clears her throat softly. "And speaking of drink, if you'll excuse me," she says quietly, getting to her feet with as much grace and nonchalance as she can manage, given her current thoughts. "I think I'll take advantage of the short break here myself."

<LOS Communications - Devon>
{
<< I hope you've not gone out of range, boy. Just getting set to leave the room here - ran into a short but pleasant delay. So ... first hall on the left. Hot or cold?

She starts to make her way out, hoping to draw as little attention as possible.

Iosif finishes his soup, placing the empty bowl out of the way, hoping that the second course is either local cuisine, or another plate of magic food. In case it was the latter, Iosif kept crab rangoon in the back of his mind.

Noting the departure of members of the table to parts unknown, Iosif decides to speak up a bit. "So, how about those local sports teams?"

Treznor leans back and closes his eyes in relaxation. He grins when he receives Nathicana's message.

<LOS Communications - Nathicana>
{
<< Well, took you long enough. You're just in range, though. That ought to tell you something. You'll have to lose the skirt, too. Wouldn't want to tear those fine clothes of yours.

<< Hot. Good thing you remembered which way I went.
}

Lose my ... What the hell is that man up to?

<LOS Communications - Devon>
{
<< You just want to get me out of these clothes as quick as possible, boy. I know how you are. [grin analog]

She steps into the hallway, pulse speeding with anticipation as she makes a quick scan of the area. She pauses at a junction, pondering thoughtfully as she glances out across the beautifully manicured grounds.

<< Out into the gardens. Hot or cold, you devil?
}

<LOS Communications - Nathicana>
{
<< Damn, I'm being transparent again. Oh well.

<< Warm. I suppose that's one way to get here; there are easier ways, though.
}

OOC: May I join this Royal Ball? Or am I going to get the boot here? :P

"The economy is booming, colonization efforts are going ahead on schedule, a second General Systems Vessel is under construction, I continue to become even more obscenely wealthy with each day, and an heir is on the way. I'd say things are going quite well," Gregor says to Kraah, before making a face. "Although one of those damned UN research teams showed up at the palace while we were in the middle of cleaning up an infestation of demonic kittens. Again. They didn't seem too happy about the way we were going after the critters with power armor and knife missiles. I wish we could find where the hell they keep coming from. The kittens, that is, although I wonder about those UN losers as well."

"Oh, yes. I'm Emperor Gregor Vetinari of Cetaganda. Its a pleasure to meet you, Advisor Kraah. Are things are going well for Sakkra and yourself?"

Merde.

Looking around, she bites her lower lip absently, brow furrowed in thought.

Can get there from here, but not the easiest way ... don't want to tear my clothes ...

Nathi steps back in, and then notes the stairs at the end of the hall. Grinning, she makes her way to them as quickly as is possible without looking unduly rushed, keeping her eyes out for other revelers.

<LOS Communications - Devon>
{
<< Alright then, if it's not out, it must be up. Stairs at the back of the hall - hot or cold, mi amore?

<< And speaking of up ... [grin analog]
}

<LOS Communications - Nathicana>
{
<< Hot. You just worry about getting here. I'll take care of the rest, my dear.
}

Kraah steeples his fingers under his chin thoughtfully. "Hrrrmmm...well, the Empire is expanding past this sytem, advances in gene-modded organic technologies is giving us great advances in medicines and armaments, trade deals are being brokered furiously by the trade ministry, and my hatchling, the Emperor, has adopted a family of his own. Aside from that, private corporations are trying to set policy in the Empire."

"We used to have those UN people knocking around our doors. But after you sink a few of their ships, they begin to come around to your way of thinking. Who knew? As for myself, I and several trusted individuals have begun a private enterprise. I'm the 'sugar-daddy' of the operation for now, but ground has already been broken on the manufacturing facilities, and employee residencies."

"The only set-back, in recent times, is that my belly is starting to protest the lack of comestibles. I think i'll have a diplomatic barbecue in the Whispering Savannah. Moon-light, stars in the sky, good conversation and keg after keg of premium lager."

He licks his chops, and comes to a realization. "Speaking of which, why is there no wine? Or whiskey? Or any drink to speak of?"

Reaching the top of the stairs, Nathicana looks around expectantly ... and sees nothing offhand that immediately lends itself to the activities in mind. She walks along the hallway, pausing to listen intently at several doors, then stops, one finger tapping at her lips thoughtfully.

A gentle breeze brushes across the back of her neck, and she shivers slightly in response. Turning, she looks out over the gardens, leaning on the ledge to peer out of the open window.

... which gives her pause.

Oh bloody hell, he can't be serious.

Peering up at the eaves with a critical eye, she makes a vexed sound, thinking she understands all too well now about the 'lose the skirt' comment from earlier.

<LOS Communications - Devon>
{
<< You weren't kidding about the easier ways, were you. I could just see trying to scale the ivy from down below.

<< Tell me you're up on the roof, boy. Then I'll tell you if I think I can get there. [wink analog]
}

vK overhears Firefury talking to Bondyaher. He glances over with a chuckle.

"Queenie, you aren't bending the poor lieutenant's ear with stories of your heroic pilotng are you? From what I hear he is a much more cultutred person than that." He laughs again. "On the other hand, I would probably be doing the same thing. Speaking of Camp R, I happen to have brought one of their neew toys with me. Managed to grab one of the Kunai prototypes before they put them all away in storage. I think you would probably like it: Fast, sleek, does some interesting things that I shouldn't talk about in here, and did I mention fast?"

The reploid quirks an eyebrow, an amused expression on her face. "Nah, no tales of heroic (or maniac, depending on who y'ask) piloting stunts. Just some political-type banter or something."

She stops up short at the mention of the Kunai. "Oooh... damn, I never get to mess with new prototypes anymore. Any chance of perhaps taking the bird for a spin sometime soon?"

Treznor chuckles quietly to himself and admires the stars. It's a good thing it's warm in this part of the world, or I'd be pretty chilly by now.

<LOS Communications - Nathicana>
{
<< I made it way too easy for you, didn't I? I'll have to do better next time. And the answer is, of course, you're scorching hot. I'd recommend not testing the eaves there. Note the breakaway mounts. These folks are pretty sensitive to security. You'll need to keep looking.
}

vK overhears Firefury talking to Bondyaher. He glances over with a chuckle.

"Queenie, you aren't bending the poor lieutenant's ear with stories of your heroic pilotng are you? From what I hear he is a much more cultutred person than that." He laughs again. "On the other hand, I would probably be doing the same thing. Speaking of Camp R, I happen to have brought one of their neew toys with me. Managed to grab one of the Kunai prototypes before they put them all away in storage. I think you would probably like it: Fast, sleek, does some interesting things that I shouldn't talk about in here, and did I mention fast?"[size=10]
The reploid quirks an eyebrow, an amused expression on her face. "Nah, no tales of heroic (or maniac, depending on who y'ask) piloting stunts. Just some political-type banter or something."

She stops up short at the mention of the Kunai. "Oooh... damn, I never get to mess with new prototypes anymore. Any chance of perhaps taking the bird for a spin sometime soon?"
"Cultured? I'd think I'd hardly classify, sir," the Lieutenant says dryly, somewhat disappointed that his attempts to draw Esmerelda out into conversation have failed miserably. Still, he quirks a brow at the new topic of conversation, the Kunai experimental aerospace plane. "Air Power."

Nathi curses as she looks again, verifying it, then looks around for alternative means of reaching her objective.

Oh for chrissakes. It couldn't be something easy, oh no - not for this man. Gotta make me bloody well work for it. Why again am I doing this?

The answer of course, leaps to mind, and she chuckles in spite of herself as her eyes scan along one of the large trees growing near the impressive building.

That'll do. So help me, if someone sees me like this, I'll kill him.

Stepping out of her heeled shoes, she hikes her dress up to her waist, less concerned about someone catching a glimpse of her underwear (now likely the most expensive article she owns, having had to buy the silky red thong back after the panty auction debacle), than messing up her dress.

Muttering imprecations, she sits down on the windowsil, swinging her bare legs out slowly, and eases herself onto the narrow ledge outside. Edging along it carefully, shoes tucked into the folds of her dress, one hand gripping the edges of the material and her small purse at her waist, the other outstretched against the cool building for balance, she makes her way to where the tree in question nearly meets the edifice. Focusing, she judges the distance and marks her destination, leaping lightly onto one of the larger branches, immediately gripping tight one of the others around it.

There is no way I'm going to make this climb trying to keep both dress and shoes out of the way. That thrice-damned son of a ...

Continuing the litanty in her mind, she reaches back to unzip the dress, shrugging out of it carefully, quietly. Folding it as neatly as possible, she wraps her shoes and the little handbag up in it, and stows them in a cleft in the tree, making certain they're secure and not easily detected.

That out of the way, she nimbly begins to climb, not for the last time quite grateful for the augments Shodey had so graciously provided. She wasn't sure quite what her sister would think about the use she was putting them to at the moment, but ...

Reaching the end of her rope, so to speak, Nathicana peered out across the open expanse of air between the highest sturdy branch, and the roof.

That's going to be a stretch.

<LOS Communications - Devon>
{
<< Well, here goes nothing. Hope you're prepared for an extended stint as 'palace slave' if I fall, boy, because so help me, you'll be waiting on me hand and foot. [grin analog]
}

Taking a slow, steady breath, she focused on her target, squatting down to gather the needed thrust, then launches herself across the distance no normal person could have made. Landing less lightly than she would have hoped, her heightened reflexes helping her compensate quickly as she stumbles, she ducks down, trying to keep a low profile along the roof, eyes scanning her new location expectantly.

Treznor winces as he hears the landing. I think she forgets she's a bit heavier than she used to be.

<LOS Communications - Nathicana>
{
<< You're so hot you're burning up. Mind the guards at eight and ten o'clock. We don't want this party cut any shorter than it has to be, right?
}

Memo to me: when someone asks you if you want all the augs, visual, included, you say 'yes'.

Peering around carefully, she notes the location of the guards, creeping back away from that direction quietly, taking shelter in some of the overhanging branches. As she scans the immediate area again, something hidden within the greenery catches her eye. A security camera, pointed at the building ... and most conveniently covered, no less, by a leafy branch that seems upon further inspection, to have been worked into place there.

Following the line of sight for the piece of equipment, she notes a spot where two rooflines interesect, providing a sheltered, deeply shadowed spot - and grins broadly.

Gotcha.

Keeping as quiet as possible, she sneaks over in that direction, peering into the darkness, her pulse racing.

<LOS Communications - Devon>
{
<< Dev ... you there?
}

Treznor chuckles and reaches out to gently draw Nathicana deeper into the shadow.

<LOS Communications - Nathicana>
{
<< Congratulations, Red. You found me, and looked damn good doing it. Now c'mere and help me warm up. It's been awful cold and lonely up here...
}

Lord Azazel grew bored as he waited for the next course. The others no longer seemed interesting, he suspected that most were in fact avoiding him because of his demonic looks.

Lieutenant Bondayehr looks up at Mister Lord Dark, Mysteeeeeerious, and Bored. Other than a stifled yawn, there was no reason to pay attention to him.

Still, being a glutton for punishment and the Triumvirate's patron saint of lost causes, he tries to make the Lord's night a little more pleasant by attempting to draw him into the conversation. "And what do you think, sir, of the difficulties of international diplomacy?"

Not recieving a response to his query in sometime, Iosif decides to explore the palace. It's something he'd always do when bored, explore whereever he was at. Unfortunately this was most often his aprt. building. You can really only explore that once or twice before it gets old.

However, he was now presented with an opportunity to explore a new area, and he might as well do so.

Remembering the time his fellow classmates managed to get into storage attic and "appropriate" a banner at Cook Hall back at the uni, Iosif decided to look for similar items and areas.

Lord Azazel looked over at the Lieutenant, he clearly looked as though he didn't want to be talking to him. He raised an eyebrow at his question. "It's only difficult in my mind because without using brute force the other side are usually too dumb to realise I'm right," he remarked. "Recently had that problem from a nation calling itself Grimdale."

Doesn't look like he enjoys not talking... doesn't look like he enjoys talking... just can't win, can I? Bondayehr smiles diplomatically. "That does seem to be an unfortunately widespread condition, but I've seen that working to find consensus and compromise often alleviates it somewhat."

Smile broadens. "Besides, truth--or, at least, the analysis thereof--is largely relative. One cannot expect others to see things one's way all the time."

"Well Queenie, the prototype just happens to be a two seater, and I happen to be a qualified instructor, so any time you are ready, I would love to give you some time in 'er. Would be only the fourth person to fly 'er."

vK stifles a yawn. "Slow party eh?"

He looks around, and a mischeivious grin crosses his lips.

<LOS Communications - Nathicana>
{
<< Just a heads-up Nath, you ain't missing much. But would you mind asking Dev if he is gonna be back to help me finish this bottle?
}

Iosif wanders the halls, noting the decorum. As he moves up a floor, he hears and feels a slight breeze, the cool night air flowing into the building. He searches for the source of the breeze, coming across a balcony overlooking the area. Nice view

He props himself against the railing, glancing down at the passing guards below. One shines a light up his way, and Iosif smiles, wondering if the guard can even see him up here. Something catches his eye.

A few yards away, mostly hidden by a tree, sits something that glimers. Iosif leans precariously over the edge, trying to gain a better view. What is that? A kite?

He pauses for a moment Hmmm and leaves the balcony, returning a minute later with the stand off a floor lamp. Hope I don't drop this. 'Hi, I dropped your six million dollar lamp off the balcony, sorry

Using the leg as a hook, Iosif pokes and prods the lump of cloth until he snags it. He pulls it out from the tree gingerly, noting that it is not a kite. What is this thing?

He notes it barely hanging on, only a small loop and part of it wrapped around a leg keeping it from falling.

He manages to retrieve the items though, carefully removing them from the floor lamp stand and holding them up. A dress? Shoes? A purse? WTF? He carefully refolds the items and begins to march back towards the dinning hall, forgetting the lamp stand.

How the hell do you lose this stuff...In a tree?


Iosif returns to the dinner table, concealing the items as best he can.
"Excuse me, but is anyone missing, umm, these items?" He holds up the neatly folded dress, along with shoes and purse to the table of Triumvirates.

"Hey Gregor," says Tarvi as he plays around with a vaguely knife-shaped object that he pulled from a pocket, "how about trying to magic us up some real food?"

"Need I remind you what happened last time I tried to do something like that?"

"Oh, come on. You've got access to the combined psionic power of a couple billion people. Surely you can do something as simple as getting us some dinner."

"Fine, fine. I'll remember you said that. Hmm, perhaps some chicken, Gregor mumbles. He then raises a hand pointing at the table, and begins to mutter a spell. A moment later, something appears with a pop. Unfortuantly, it is not a bucket of buffalo wings as expected - at least, not yet. Standing on the table is a live chicken.

"I am astounded by you abilities, Gregor," says Tarvi, who is staring wide-eyed at the new 'guest'. "Most people have a lot of trouble conjuring up live animals."

"Bucawk!" says the chicken, which then begins to walk around the table clucking.

<zot>

Oh jeebus. Thought she was more discreet than that. How to play this....

"Ah, Cadet, I think I know who those belong too. I'll go return them presently."

vK takes the items and walks down the hall.

<LOS Communications - Nathicana>
{
<< Guess I was right Nath, one of the Cadets just turned up with your dress, shoes and purse. Would you like me to drop them off somewhere for you? [chuckle]
}

"True," Lord Azazel replied, looking at what the others were doing. "Which is why one must make them see sense in what you think."

Kraah stares at the chicken on the table wide-eyed. "Astounding! Chicken to go in the most literal sense." He then glances around the table, and his stomach roars in a commanding manner.

"Ah, excuse me a moment." He pats his belly, and whispers softly. "Yes, my pretty. I understand." He then looks up and addresses the gathering. "If anyone has sensitive sensibilities, it would behoove you to avert your gaze."

A few seconds of pause, and then Kraah lunges forward, mouth open wide and nictitating membranes sliding shut over his eyes. With a loud "Raarmph" his mouth closes over the body of the chicken, head and legs splayed out from opposite sides of Kraah's mouth.

A quick snap, and then a swallow, and the deed is done. The chicken's head and legs drop to the table in front of him. "My apologies." A cloth is used to wipe the blood from his lips. "The stomach waits for no cook."

Iosif stands dumbfounded as vonKarma walks off with the dress, thinking the following:
1) Does vK really know who's it is, and why does he know this?
2) How did it get in the tree?
3) Perhaps it isn't vK's but he says it is, because he's a cross-dresser
4) Holy shit that's weird!
5) Where the fuck did this chicken come from?

Thought five is rather short lived as the Sakkran lunges across the table, ending the chicken's somewhat sudden and brief existence, leading to though number 6. These people are all fucking insane

Nathicana chuckles at the first missive, not letting it distract her overmuch from current activities. The second, however, takes her completely by surprise, and she stutters back a response without thinking.

<LOS Communications - vK>
{
<< Ohforfu**sakesyouhavegottobekiddingme ... thrice-damned figlio de putana [trails off into a rather long expletive string in her native language]

After a moment of desperately trying to regather her thoughts and focus, which undoubtably give her partner pause, she responds more ... coherently, albeit rather clipped and decidedly distracted.

<< I'm sure he'll have worked up quite the thirst, my dear instructor. Our discussions tend to get rather ... heated. As for the clothing, grazie - I am quite indebted to you.

<< Down that first hall to the left, up the stairs, back along the hall to that open window - though God alone knows how that boy found them ... and unless you have a discrete way of placing them up on the edge of the roof there, you'll find yourself faced with a tree just out across the way where I'd had them stowed.

<< Christ almighty ... [wry smile analog] I do at least thank you for your ah ... discretion.
}

She quite pointedly avoids any talk of embarrassment, as firstly, she has more immediate concerns just now, and secondly ... if she were so embarrassed in the first place, she'd not be up here to begin with.

*the chimes sound to say that the third course will begin in moments. She rises form her bench takes one last look at the moon before gliding indoors and standing next to her place waiting for the others to be seated*

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"Ah, she has returned," Lord Azazel said before returning to his seat, cutting off the brief conversation with the lieutenant.

Treznor surfaces from the...discussion briefly to peer quizzically at Nathicana in the darkness.

<LOS Communications - Nathicana>
{
<< Whoops. Did I do something wrong there? You seem distracted all of a sudden.

The response is immediate, and perhaps a little sharp.

>> Never you mind, boy. Don't you dare stop now!

He chuckles softly and dives back in.

<< Yes, Ma'am!
}

"True," Lord Azazel replied, looking at what the others were doing. "Which is why one must make them see sense in what you think."
"Or one must come up with a reasonable compro--"

"Ah, she has returned," Lord Azazel said before returning to his seat, cutting off the brief conversation with the lieutenant.
Knowing a cut-off when he hears one, he grins a little too broadly under lowered brows. "But of course, sir. You are always right."

Out of the corner of his eye, Bondayehr sees vonKarma walking off with a dress. Red. Oh, please... And a very confused Iosif. Awww, Jeebus H Hyskos... Somehow, the whole Sakkran-plus-chicken incident doesn't faze him in the least.

"'Scuse," he says with a diplomatic smile to the assembled party, "I'll be right back." Hopping out of his chair, he walks over to Iosif with a wry half-smile--"Hi, Joe!"--then speaking in undertones once he's in range. "Lemme guess. Stashed away in a rather obscure location, no?"

Iosif nods. "Heya Tim, looking sharp."
*in equal undertones*
"Yeah people lose their stuff in the oddest places...stashed?"
It's at this point that Iosif finally connects 2 and 2 to get 5.

"I thought I recognized that dress. And come to think of it, it was a little to neat to be tossed up there."
Well at least that shows vonKarma isn't a cross dresser
"But why would she be taking off her dress..."

"oh"


"OH!"
Iosif becomes a little red for having possibly interupted their act and reaches for his drink.
"Change of topic."
"So, besides the adventure through hell, did you do anything else interesting while you were in the dread l.... dominion, I meant dominion."
Way to screw up moron.

Bondayehr half-grins as light dawns on Marblehead. "Attention to detail, Joe, attention to detail. Good eye, there. Now keep it on the Delta Lima."

At Iosif's Freudian slip, Timofeyev easily covers his reaction by swiping a bottle of vodka and a shot glass from the bar behind him and quickly pouring himself a shot. Still, apparently the unexpected result of his trip to the Dominion did wonders for his self-confidence on that level. "Oh, the usual," he dryly quips--quickly and softly with a half-smirk--before downing his drink and starting again in a more conversational tone.

"What, playing Rambo in the forest not good enough for ya?" Timofeyev chuckles. "Well, I did make a rather nice Mongolian compound bow. Not bad for a rush-job. Tell me, why are you here with the brass? I just got dragged along because the good Dread Lady figured I needed training in sociability or something."

"Well, there was this sheet down in the detachment, something about See the world or such. I thought it might be interesting so I signed up. Figured I'd have some sort of travel experience to brag about, can't let you hog all the fun."

Iosif takes a swig.

"Unfortunately, I didn't bother to read the small print and such. So now I'm trying to earn my diplomacy ribbon or something of the sort. I guess they want us to have a little diplomatic experience before comissioning, sending us out into the boonies to do god knows what. I was chosen out of the other applicants by the det's sophisticated infinite improbability generator They probably drew my name from a hat"

"Had they known that top brass would be here, the commander or major would have probably knocked me off the flight plan and come themselves. But here I am, bungling my ribbon."

"You don't see me being the ultimate envoy to new peoples, do ya?" Timofeyev grins. "The Triumvirate leadership is ludicrously easy to talk to and, since you're here and no one knows that's a cadet uniform, people will mistake you for some important mook and talk to you if you try. If one brushes you off, try another."

He shrugs and puts away the vodka. "It's worked for me, at least."

Things certainly have livened up here..., thought Dorusceronis. A live chicken appearing, and consequently being eaten were the most unexpected. The method with which the chicken had been eaten did not strike Dorusceronis as being unusual, merely the fact that it had happened.

Dorusceronis felt somewhat separated from the conversation. The other dignitaries seemed to already be familiar with each other - very familiar in one case - and they were eagerly talking amongst themselves, while Dorusceronis just sat and listened. Atanracnad, too, was quiet, but that was normal for him; he had never been one for idle chit-chat.

Dictator was not a very good position for socializing, Dorusceronis reflected. His talk was normally for the purpose of discussing official business, not making friends. How does one usually do it? he wondered. He was used to gaining people's favour through business and appointment to official positions, but that didn't apply here. Common interests... A good way to chat was to find common interests. Politics was an obvious one, maybe too obvious, and it could be problematic if his and the other guests views differed too greatly.

"Does anyone here enjoy sport?" Dorusceronis asked.

"Sport, you say? Indeed I do. In fact, the Empire has a week long holiday for our national sport. Jugg." Kraah uses his claw to pick feathers out of his teeth.

"The long and short of it: Beat the other team senseless and place a skull on a pike. Simple, yes? *BRAAAAAP* Ooh. Excuse me." Kraah wipes his mouth some more. "But if you mean the tamer sports, I follow baseball a bit. Nippon has some nice up-and-comers."

"Sports in The Underground City are rarely tame", said Dorusceronis, "such things as gladiatorial combat are commonplace. Within the upper classes, it is unusual to find* participants for sports where loss of life is certain - excluding hunting, of course - however, many of our elite engage in combat tournaments that are not to the death. Though I rarely have time to enter tournaments myself, I still practice my skills regularly, should I need them in times of war."

"This Jugg of which you speak sounds interesting. I should spectate some time. Would it be possible for a few companions and I to view the sport?"

*edit

"Of course, of course. When I was Emperor, the Jugg Holiday also became a diplomatic occasion. A chance for world leaders and such to enjoy what to most would be a guilty pleasure. Heads of state, sitting in the Imperial Booth, watching contestants batter each other into pulp while discussing trade agreements and such. My finest work." He pats his belly in a satisfied manner.

"Of course, the entire city of Kastaa has a massive feast and celebration." He leans a bit towards the direction of the leaders of the Underground City. "Consider yourselves, and any guests you may bring, officially invited for the next Imperial Championship."

He then reaches into his coat, and pulls out three fist-sized round stones, which he proceeds to swallow. "Gotta digest that chicken right, or it could repeat on me."

"Well, Gregor, it seems we are saved from starvation," Tarvi says as he sits down, still playing with his toy. "Its a good thing you didn't try for a steak. I think even our hostess might notice a cow suddenly appearing."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. You're lucky I didn't decide to turn you into something edible."

"Ah, Gregor, you wound me. However, we both know that's an empty threat. Even ignoring the dubious moral and legal nature of such an act, if I was polymorphed into a plate of n00kies, how would we..."

Tarvi leans over and whispers something to Gregor, and the Emperor's ears turn bright red. "True enough, I suppose. Consider yourself reprieved for the moment." Gregor then adds in an undertone, "You know, if her dress had shown up on eBay, it would be her own damn fault this time."

As he settled himself back in his seat, Lord Azazel went back to listening to the conversations around him. He was glad to get away from the boring lieutenant however.

vK strolls calmly down the hallways, taking his time.


<LOS Communications - Nathicana>
{
<<Soooo, what are a nice dress, purse and shoes worth these days? And more importantly, what are they worth to you, right now?
}

A big grin forms on vK's lips as he chuckles softly to himself.

Growling softly, partly in irritation, partly on account of ... other things ... Nathicana answers in an uncharacteristically broken manner.

<LOS Communications - vK>
{
<< Depends ... on store.

<< To me now? [longer pause]

<< Notagoddamnthing ...

<< In a bit? [long pause, broken by almost-but-not-quite-transmitted thoughts]

<< Name it, ye slick s.o.b. [very long pause]

<< Caveat: must ... point out ... whobrought'emtoyou. Have ... lesson ... to discuss.
}

-----------------------------------------------------

<LOS Communications - Devon>
{
<< Pre-empt - all well.

<< You stop - you die.
}


One thing she quietly vowed somewhere in the back of her mind: Someone was going to catch it, and catch it hot.

Growing more bored by the moment as everyone waits for food, Tarvi eventually flips the tapered cylinder he was toying with straight up. It arcs upwards, but as it falls back down, it slows until it hovers at rougly eye level. It then circles around his head several times before begining to perfrom loops and other aerial acrobatics, all the while making a soft humming noise.

"If you cut off someone's head with that, I'm going to have to take it away."

"Bah! I have the cutting fields off. I think."

Iosif, still blissfully unaware to just how much shit he was in, continues the conversation with Tim.

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot. I bought myself a zipcraft. It's back home, but it's hella nice."

"Immelman!" Tarvi says as the knife missile does a loop. "Zoomity, zoomity, zoomity -"

"Tarvi, I love you," growls Gregor, "but if you don't shut up I will kick your sorry arse all the way back to the Ring!"

"Eeep!" Momentarily out of control, the flying object plunges downward, going straight through the table between Kraah and Travi and leaving a smooth circular hole in its wake. Gregor blinks several times, then quietly reaches over and pushes a plate over the spot.

"Honestly, sometimes its like dealing with a child," he mutters under his breath. He turns around and looks for something to drink, not noticing the missile slowly come out from under the table and slip away.

Iosif may not know, but Timofeyev is certainly getting a sort of intuitive suspicion that comes from knowing Nathi better by several orders of magnitude.

"Really? Hm, you know, there's a bunch of people on the balcony. I can try to introduce you to people." Where you won't be expected to be. "...I think I saw S.H.O.D.A.N. walk out earlier. What do you want to be introduced as?"

<LOS Communications - Nathi>
{
<< Name it eh? You, and some of that excellent Dominion cuisine and wine at the little trium shindig at my place next [timeperiod]. And trez has to come along, so I got someone to enjoy some fine spirits with. This boring "party" has got me in the mood for a real get together. Thems my terms, what say you?
}

"An 'accidental' beheading would be sure to liven things up," Lord Azazel muttered to himself. He had a wine glass in hand, swirling the last bit of wine around the bottom.

"Ummm, Cadet 3rd Class Zolkin. Or Iosif, or Joe, whichever works I guess."
Wow, the SHODAN. Dream girl of computer geeks everwhere. I wonder if those aug rumors are true.

The answer doesn't come immediately, but when it does, it's in a very different manner than before.


<LOS Communications - vK>
{
<< Eeeeexcellent. [grin analog] Whither I go, he goeth also for such fun and games, whenever I can nail him down long enough to manage it. Obviously we've both been looking forward to some R&R ... [polite cough analog]

<< Terms accepted in full. I can even promise to not ah ... 'misplace' any of my clothes. If it's anything like that last barbeque, boy - it will be one hell of a good time.

<< And speaking of good times ... don't suppose you have any new toys you might want to share some flight time on? Afraid you got me hooked.
}

<LOS Communications - Nathi>
{
<< Excellent. New toys? Well, got one sitting out front, but I think you may have to fight Queenie for the first ride.[chuckle] Anyway, I think I found the window and tree, you're all set. If you two are hungry, they just served the next course, doubt you care, but thought you might want to know. [grin]
}

vK replaces the items in their hiding spot and makes his way out to the balcony as he wanders the mansion.

Easily spotting the illuminated avatar in the twilight, Bondayehr waves her down with a smile. "Hullo, Shodey!"

S.H.O.D.A.N. turns with a smile and a short bow. "Lieutenant," she replies cordially, her Five-Cee-Enner quarry oddly unresponsive, "I hope you have enjoyed this night?"

"More or less." Timofeyev looks over his shoulder at the man twirling his wine glass. "Seeing how my job--defending the multiverse and making it safe for freedom and democracy and the like--has me dealing with royal assholes on a daily basis, I've decided to avoid them on my off hours."

The grey-skinned avatar chuckles softly. "Always a wise decision. I suppose I should take the existence of this current conversation as a compliment, then?"

"Sure, if you'd like." Bondayehr grins. "Anyway, S.H.O.D.A.N., this is my good friend Iosif Zolkin. We go back a few years and he's a great guy. Zolkin, this is--" Bondayehr coughs, stands overly straight, and pronounces in an effete voice, "--Queen Sentient Hyperoptimized Data Access Network version Three-point-Oh, Master Control Program of the Queendom of Zero-One, Duchess of the Cetagandan Duchy of Marilac, Professor Emeritus of who-knows-how-many-schools, and a damn fine doctor to boot."

S.H.O.D.A.N. bows shortly with a chuckle, then extends a grey-skinned hand. "I'm honored," she says drolly.

"Well, keep Joe out of trouble. Sorry to run, but I've got situations to be aware of." Timofeyev waves slightly with a grin. "Ta!" He then books it to a position where he can watch the dining room and the outside simultaneously, keeping aware for Nathi's re-emergence.

Buzzing about the palace, the knife missile detects motion in a shadowy corner. It's controller switches over to infrared and sees...nothing but cat. It continues on its way, poking about the palace looking for anything interesting to see.

"So, I wonder if Nathi realises her dress is gone?" asks Gregor, pitching his voice to only other Trium members can her.

"Huh?" replies Tarvi, who was slightly distracted. "More to the point, I wonder if she knows who took it?"

"Well, I'm sure its in good hands...with...von Karma..."

"Poor cadet."

Iosif notes Tim scurying off to parts unknown, finding himself oddly thinking of the small advanced robot, Gir. Doom-dee-doom-dee-doom doom doom

Iosif bows further, trying to be respectful to the uttmost.
He takes the hand and gives it a good firm shake. "The honor is all mine ma'am."

Iosif takes a deep breath and notes his mouth being rather dry. "Well, ma'am, what brings you here...besides the diplomatic...stuff." Wincing as he says stuff. Oh, real professional.

S.H.O.D.A.N. chuckles. "I suppose diplomacy would be my mission here, if the hostess ever stood still long enough to speak to." Copper-ish lips turn up in a smile. "Otherwise, I am simply enjoying spending time with my adopted and by-marriage family... and seeing what mischief I can get myself into. There's always that."

She notes the uniform and, even though the TYCS personnel records are an open book to her, decides to make conversation. "So, Cadet Zolkin, what branch are you planning to enter? I'm going to guess you plan on going space-side."

"Well ma'am, I'm hoping to be a pilot. I'm quite fond of flying. Figure if I get that I'll make a career out of it, who knows, maybe be a captain some day."

He pauses.
"I've given some thought to Gear piloting, but I know little about it or the requirements."

"We'll see though, with the professors I have, I wouldn't be suprised if I ended up polishing boots for a living, considering some seem hell-bent on crushing our hopes."

AN absurdly loud rumble comes from Kraah's slightly rotund belly. *RAAAWWWR* "Alright already. I'll get on it!" Kraah stands and pushes the chair out from behind him. "Excuse me all."

He walks out of the dining room, yelling all the while. "Cook! COOK! Confound it all, i'll make my OWN damn sandwich. Where in the pits is the kitchen?" He looks around some, trying to find a galley entrance.

The brothers were fortunate enough to have eaten before coming. The meal presented was more of a snack for Velfodnersets such as themselves.

[ooc: sorry for the brevity of this post. will make longer one later]

S.H.O.D.A.N. chuckles. "That's life for you, not just professors. I wouldn't worry too much about it, though. Have you considered applying for Aerospace Gear training? Now that the Pterodactyls and Scions are entering the general inventory, it might be an idea."

Iosif's eyes look up and too the right, as they oft do when he's thinking.
"Valid point ma'am. I'm sure that they're reserved for the particularly impressive applicants, but I'll give it a shot."

"I've been told I'm doing just fine in the program and that I'm an outstanding cadet. Unfortunately, I'm not sure I believe them."

Growing slightly more impatient, Gregor sticks a hand out in front of him and says, "Manual, please." When nothing happens, he growls again, "Manual, please!"

"Now, Gregor. Remember, we're here for the good PR. We can't be blowing the place up, now can we?"

"I'm not going to, I'm just going to see if I can find a better summon. And, for that matter, a communications charm. MANUAL!" A moment later, a slim book titled "Wizard's Manual for Dummies" appears in his hand and he begins to page through it.

"Remember, Integrity First." S.H.O.D.A.N. grins. "I'm sure they've no reason to mislead you and would let you know quite quickly if you were doing something wrong."

"Very true ma'am."

"Enough about myself though."
"If you would be so kind as to tell me something about yourself or your nation that I wouldn't find in any ole' textbook."

"Hey, Tarvi, where did the cadet go?" asks Gregor.

"What makes you think I know?"

"Because you're flying your knife missile around, and you've probably spotted them."

After a pause, Tarvi says, "Balcony over that way, talking with Shodey."

"Excellent. Let's see. Add six, divide by three and carry the one..."

Atanracnad turns to Gregor.

"The Underground City has great magical resources. Perhaps you would be interested? Our research facilities have information on various magical fields and techniques."

S.H.O.D.A.N. nods with a chuckle. "That is the kind of question that makes a good diplomat, Cadet. You are apparently getting the hang of it."

The avatar taps her chin with one long grey-skinned finger. "There's a growing social movement along the minds that is a direct result of the GEC's projects. Essentially, those who never adapted well to our de facto symbiosis with organics are seeing extrasolar colonization as a way to escape humanity's influence for good. That is the most extreme viewpoint on it, but the movement is generally characterized by a desire to escape the politics and potential threats of continued interaction.

"They are no threat to my stability; in fact, they may do well as pathfinders for my own expansion efforts. We have mostly been assisting the GEC in extrasolar resource collection, but I suppose it would not be too untoward if we claimed an otherwise useless star system for our own... not needing water and oxygen, there should be very little need for conflict."

"Makes sense."
"To be honest I've never really understood why there is the de facto symbiosis."
Iosif chuckles. "Us organics do tend to be rather troublesome."
"But friends are rare to come by, and I for one am glad to have 'em, regardless of what their brains are made of."

"And with the likes of Morgoth about, we could always use more friends."
Displaying an obvious disdain when when saying Morgoth.

"Actually, the entire Trium mystifies me somewhat."
"Why such a motley assembly of nations came to be, still baffles. I've read the history books, so technically I know how it was done, but as to the motivations and feelings, that's another story all together. Must be doing something right though. Can't say that one can find such a varied yet unified group working together, and doing such a damned fine job."
"More a brother/sisterhood than alliance."

"I betcha Hitler's spinnin' in his grave."

S.H.O.D.A.N. smiles and bows slightly. "The feeling is mutual. I can say, for myself, that the symbiosis exists because there is no inherent conflict between mechanoids and organics... merely actions that are the result of history. Neither organics nor mechanoids," she smiles wryly, "are blameless... and, after all, if we allowed history to always dictate our actions and reactions..."

She pauses for a moment and smiles slyly. "Where would that leave me, after all?"

She then nods. "That is why I do my part for this alliance. It is a fascinating construct and I want to see its social successes continued into the future. The cooperation between wildly varied portions, even when each portion has its own agenda and viewpoint, is what makes it an example."

Treznor sits up and stretches.

<LOS Communications - Nathicana>
{
<< I do so love our games.

Nathicana curls up around him with a content sigh. >> As do I, boy. Far too much, no doubt.

He snags one hand to bring it to his lips. << No doubt. We've been very naughty. Now I suppose it's time to go back and be good. Think they've missed us, by now?

She tilts her head and grins rather mischievously. >> But I like naughty. A lady has to have some vices after all. As for missing us - Xeruyu wants to know when you'll be back to finish off that bottle with him.

He leans back down and kisses her full lips. << I like naughty, too. And I like your vices. But if we don't demonstrate some self-restraint, we'll be here all night and sooner or later someone's gonna do something about that camera.

She chuckles softly, taking her time with the kiss, making it clear what she thinks of all that. >> Yes, yes ... I know. But I had to wait until my dress made it back to where I'd stowed it. Seems one of our little idealistic friends thought someone had "misplaced" it, so of course had to go ask ... I just got the all clear a few minutes ago. Shall we then?

Treznor barely restrains the laugh that bubbles to his lips. << Oh, oh no! I shouldn't laugh, but...oh gods, that's too funny! Who was it? And how much trouble was it to get back? He gropes for his pants and slips them on.

She tries to scowl. She does ... but she can't help but break out in a broad grin. >> Oh, that's right - laugh it up, boy. You know how distracting it is trying to hold a coherent conversation in your head with folks about such things while you're ... [polite cough analog] Anyways ... vK said "one of the cadets." I know damn well Tim isn't one anymore, so that leaves the boy I've not been properly introduced to.

>> Long story short, kid found it, vK intercepted it apparently, I negotiated with him to get my things put back, and now owe him myself ... There's a teasing pause while she grins at him again, enjoying the view. >> And yourself to show up at a party he's planning. Think you'll be up to it?

<< Are you kidding? When was the last time Xeruyu offered to throw a party, let alone share his booze? Of course I'm up for it! I wouldn't miss it. Besides, I've always wondered how much trouble I could get into at his place.

>> I promised I wouldn't misplace my clothes. Next time, we find a spot I can keep them with me, capiche? As for last time, though it was a joint thing, there was that barbeque ... although you weren't exactly in a position to enjoy it to it's fullest. She slowly stretches and starts to put on what little she'd had to begin with.

He slips on his shoes and fumbles with his shirt. << It was as much a political thing as social thing. Playing host reduces my opportunities for naughtiness; more's the pity. But yes, we'll just have to find a new game to play next time. Wouldn't do to fall into a routine, would it?

Nathicana makes a quiet vexed noise, and brushes his hands away, rebuttoning his shirt starting at the bottom and working up, fussing to get it all just right. >> I was referring to the one onboard the Grendel, boy. [soft chuckle analog] And routine, Dev? Good god almighty, when has anything with us ever been routine? She finishes, and smiles at him in approval, mouthing "nice."

He doesn't bother to resist the temptation to lean over and kiss the mouth again. << Oh, right. That one. I wasn't quite myself then, yeah. But anyway, I can finish getting dressed when we're not quite so...er...exposed. Would the Lady please follow me?

She savors the kiss while it lasts, then accepts his hand with a smile, simply nodding. He then turns in the opposite direction and heads off toward a different wing of the roof, keeping low and watching his footing as carefully as possible.

She pauses, biting her lower lip and glancing back towards the place her clothes are. >> Uh, Dev ... I've gotta go back the way I came. Meet you in the gardens, or ...

<< I wouldn't recommend it. I don't know when the guards change shifts. What we can do is once we get back inside we can either hide you in a room while I retrieve your belongings or scout ahead for you. Safer this way, trust me.

>> Shit. Goddamn you boy, the things I do ... lead on. She follows in like manner, a long string of curses running through her mind.

He looks back and winks before continuing on toward another section where the roof turns. << Another camera here, on a swivel mount. Whoever installed it got sloppy; the timing is consistent, and its arc leaves some security holes. Just do what I do.

Nathicana gives him a very level look, and nods curtly, opting not to respond on account of she knows damn well she'll just cuss him out.

Treznor pauses, counts to himself, then tugs at her hand and scurries forward as quietly as he can manage. He leaps over the camera as it swings back in his direction, bringing her with him. When he lands again, he doesn't pause but keeps going full-tilt toward the edge of the roof.

<< See the tower over there? It's about three meters from the edge of this building. Directly underneath the roof is another open window. Jump feet-first toward the tower and launch off it for the window.

Nathicana lets out a quiet noise of surprise as he hurtles forward, feet nearly nicking the camera as she follows his lead. She gets a panicked look on her face as they continue full board towards the edge. >> Rooftop acrobatics, in nothing but my underthings ... so help me, if I get biffed or bruised or cut or scraped or ... [trails off into ominous cursing] She shakes her head, readying herself for it. It's official. I've lost my marbles.

He lets go of her and leaps first, tucking his feet under him with knees bent, then shoving off the moment he touches the wall of the tower. He twists around to check his angle of approach and realises he's off a bit. He slams into bottom half of the windowsill, nearly knocking the breath out of him, and throws himself inside to get out of the way.

She swears under her breath again, and follows close on his heels, opting for a slightly different approach. She leaps out across the space between, tucking up and twisting as she goes, her feet landing solidly as she touches down at an angle, shoving off and finishing the move to leap headfirst towards the open window, arms out in front in a graceful diving position. She tucks and rolls as soon as she passes over the windowsill, going into a defensive crouch as soon as she can, looking around suspiciously. Catching sight of Treznor hunched under the window, she grins.

He rubs his chest tenderly. "Erf. Now it's my turn to get it between the ribs."

"Misjudge, boy?" she asks, looking a bit concerned as she gets to her feet, padding over quietly to give him a once-over.

He stands up and winces. "I'll be fine. Just a little bruised. Now let's get you decently dressed."

Iosif nods. "On a different note..."

"Forgive me for asking, but the geek in me demands, what all do you do up there, on Rhea. Besides the governing stuff."

After walking and poking about for a time, yelling all the while, Kraah spots the galley. He bursts into the kitchen with a loud "ROOOOOWWWWR! Where is my DINNER!?" He walks in amid the startled kitchen staff, and grabs a platter that had just been piled high with roasted pork.

"I'll just take this ...*munch*....and be on ...*munch crunch*...my way." He walks off out of the kitchen far more silently than he walked in. After a short walk, and bits taken from the platter as a 'handling fee', Kraah arrives back in the dining hall, and proceeds to return to his chair, the platter of succulent-smelling meat wafting through the hall.

"If anyone wants any, grab a fork and dig in."