NationStates Jolt Archive

"Okay, we've got confirmations from Scolopendra, Sakkra, Nathicana, the Shogunate and who else?"

Ben consults his datapad. "There's an ambassadorial delegation from Imnsvale in town. One of their aides suggested a passing interest in the festivities."

Treznor shrugs. "Hey, if they want to celebrate Midwinter Bloodfeast with a barbecue, that's fine with me. But they have to bring chips."

Ben smirks. "I'll tell them you said that."

"Good. Anybody else say anything, or are they all just going to gate crash?"

"I think they're mostly planning to crash."

"All right, watch the ports then. Anyone who isn't Triumvirate gets to visit the Dungeons...the clean ones, anyway."

"Yes, Sir."

"Get yourself into a tux, Ben. Festivities begin at sundown tonight, and I want you there."

Ben looks distinctly displeased. "As you wish, Sir." He pauses, then adds, "Treasury is screaming about the expense, sir. First the Billion Day celebrations, and now this."

"Let 'em scream. This is a momentous occasion, Ben. Let people blow off steam at our expense. Whatever Treasury thinks, we can afford it."

OOC: Oh, it's a Trium party. I was about to bitch about being the spare wheel of the NDA. Never mind. Just like real life, nobody invites me to parties ... *sniff*

"Queenie, should you bring at least a token guard with you?"

"See this? This is my token guard."

"Um... could you please point your arm cannon at something other than my face? Pretty please?"

"I'm gonna take the RPDC Queen's Wing, by myself, to the party, and bring some of the best sake we've got. The Queens of the Sky can fly escort, but that's it." Firefury de-arms her cannon and grins. "I don't dare spare any more than that with the current situation with Iraqstan, and besides, what better way to show 'Eff you, we aren't afraid of you!' to Iraqstan than for me to go out to a big party with minimal guard. People tend to forget that I can quite effectively take care of myself. Remember the attempted kidnapping by M.A.N.?"

The aide cringes at the reminder. "Alright, Firefury-sama. I'll send a message to Treznor to expect your personal carrier."

ALTIMIT Broadcaster
Encryption: Standard
Broadcast type: Social
To: Treznor
Return transmission band: Open
IDENT: Storm Skypeace - Reploid Productions

Firefury-sama will be arriving in her personal transport carrier, the RPDC Queen's Wing, along with a six-fightercraft escort. She wishes me to inform you that she will be bringing plenty of fine Arpean sake, and a large selection of cheeses from the colony of Aquamarine. I'm not really supposed to say this, but rumors are floating around the Diplomatic Corps that she has a special 'Welcome to the Triumvirate' present on board as well.

~Storm Skypeace
~Diplomatic Corps
~Immortal Shogunate of Reploid Productions
<End Transmission>

Chips?!

The facsimile slipped under their door simply made a mention of chips. Nothing more.

"Well, I suppose we can bring chips."

"Hmm?"

"Oh, nothing. When is my suit supposed to be delivered from the cleaners?"

"Anytime now."

"Fantastic."

Diplomatic Officer Sko'loti-Hucy leans back in her seat, brushing her long mane out of the way as she attempts to relax. She folds her massive orange-furred hands in her lap, tapping the pads of her index fingers together... a sedate enough motion to humans, but tantamount to fidgeting for a kzinret.

Feeling well, Officer? Alshai looks up at the orange felinid with a close-lipped smile, eyes glowing a soft brown.

"Hrrr..." She shrugs, stretching her shoulders with a soft sigh. "Nervous, perhaps; this quite an odd place to be for a language teacher."

Kommetrez laughs softly. Well, certainly you expected to become an envoy to new friends when you joined the DiploCorps, right?

"Still, sir," she tilts her neck, closing her eyes as vertebrae compressed by tense muscles shift, "first extranational assignment and an important one at that."

Don't worry about it. Alshai settles back into his seat with a soft smile. You'll do just fine.

"And I'm supposed to teach him tkzin'sutung."

You volunteered for that very reason...

Sko'loti-Hucy shrugs. "Hrrrr... call it pre-game stress."

It'll be fine. Truly.

"The waiting is the worst."

Alshai is suddenly struck with the memory, clear as the desert sky he grew up under, of lying prone in a drop capsule, armored and tied down, quietly tapping a tune against the casing with one armored gauntlet. Yes, the waiting is the worst.

He was always glad when the coilgun in the tube hissed and fired him out, after all...

* - * - *

"This is Scolopendran Diplomatic Shuttle IntRelate Three to Treznor Air Traffic Control. We are carrying Advisor Kommetrez and Diplomatic Officer Hucy to the celebration announced previous by Emperor Treznor. Request landing clearance and approach vectors."

Airspace clearance is assumed.

In the Kargaahl Imperial Complex, we find Advisor Kraah in his workout room. He has cinder-block sized weights strapped to his wrists, ankles, tail and neck as he punches into a 500 lb sack filled with sand.

Wham! Wham! Whapwhapwhap! A flawless series of axe-kicks is followed by two rabbit punches and a tail swipe. The door to his exercise center opens, and a slim servant bearing a platter walks in. *Huff* *Huff* "Yes, you have something?"

"I do sir. It is an invite from Treznor, to a diplomatic soiree."

"Soiree? Hraar! That is good. I still owe him a showing of our opera. Very well! Send a message to the Kastaa Players to prepare for a command performance, and load several cases of Slurpee on my Titan II transport. We will not go empty handed! HRAA!"

Kraah gives the weighted bag a back-hand, putting his formidable weight behind it. The bag ruptures, and Kraah finds his hand embedded within it.

"Damn! The house budget is going to be tapped with the cost of replacing these things. Send a memo to my accountants, and have them find me a heavy bag that will actually last. I don't care if it's made of Resin. And send a reply to Treznor confirming the time of my arrival."

At once sir." the servant bows slightly, and removes himself from the room. Kraah picks up a bottle of mineral oil and rubs it into his scales. "Soiree. Hrr hrr hrr."

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

<<Encrypted Message>>
<<Directive: Treznor>>
<<Encryption: light>>

Greetings, Sir Treznor

Advisor Kraah has received your invitation, and will arrive within the day. He will be accompanied by the Kastaa Players and several cases of Slurpee aboard his personal transport. Please transmit landing protocols and approach vectors upon receipt of this message.

May you walk on warm sands.

Servitor Kkarr
Kargaahl Imperial Complex

<<Transmission ends>>

ooc:

Hrm, it's a Trium party, but am I invited? If not, I'll understand.

ooc:
Hrm, it's a Trium party, but am I invited? If not, I'll understand.
OOC: Yes. (http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?p=2281822#2281822) All Triumvirate nations are welcome, as well as Imnsvale. Given that most Triumvirate members haven't RSVP'd, it's assumed they'll simply gatecrash instead of send formal announcements.

And you know what? If any NDA members (yes, I mean any of them) show up, they won't get sent to the Dungeons. Lemme update the topic title.

[Communication{Treznor}]

We would be more than happy to send a representative of the Archai Collective to your celebration. In fact, We shall send along Ourselves in the form of Our new Avatar.

---
The Mainframe
Proto-Archailect

[End]

Message To: Devon Treznor, Emperor
Message Fr: Rene Seingult, Domina
Message Re: Midwinter Bloodfeast

An interesting idea. I shall definitely attend, and I shall bring a selection of Tsarainese delicacies with me. I trust you understand the necessity of bringing bodyguards?

http://shade.jonpearse.net/Rene.jpg
~ Domina Rene Seingult
Division Five Commandant

"Do you really think we should attent?" Metatron wasn´t exactly glad regarding the idea. "After all, they`re from the trium... technically, our enemies."
"That they are. The more important it is for us to know more about them. Simple, isn`t it?"
"Well, true..."
"And i am responsible for intelligence. It´s an excellent change. Of course, the NDA wont like it, but they don´t need to know, do they?" Uriel seemed to be quite... intrigued by the idea.
"And... you don´t plan to blow them up?"
"Of course not. We have time. More than enough of it."
"Well... ok, you have my blessing."
"Very good. See you in... some time."

---

To: Treznor
From: Endless Crimes
Subject: Trium/ NDA Thingy

"We will sent a representative, and hope that Seraphim Uriel is perfectly acceptable for you."

Sincerely

~ Metatron

Sitting at his desk Carlos chuckles and puts aside the current crisis reports and retrieves some paper. Furrowing his brow he begins to write.



To: Devon Treznor
From: Carlos.
Subject: Formal Party.

Devon,

My good friend I've just recieved the formal invite and I am reply in turn to say that it would be my honour to attend such a party. I also hope that given the current situation between certain members of the Triumverate that the party doesnt fall apart due to my presence.

I will strive to be cordial towards your guests since after all it isnt my country so I must behave. Infact I'll bring along some of my finest scotch. The stuff you are yet to try my friend the rarest of em all. Finest of the lot.

I'm sure you'll enjoy it. I shall be ariving within a day or so, I expect a warm welcome. Preferably one without guns aimed at me. Until then my friend.

May your time be trouble free.
~Carlos.

Watching the ink dry Carlos folds the letter neatly and places it within the official envelope and walks out side. "Carla mail this for me immediately please. Then you can go home for the day." Taking the letter Carla smiles brightly and bows her head. "Thank you sir. I'll go now. Have a good night sir."

Smiling Carlos waves to her. "Good night Carla." Shutting his door he lays down on the couch and stares at the ceiling before drifting off into a short restful sleep.

The leader of the Retarded Nation strolls up to the door and peeks in through a window. Looking at the Guest List which has been pinned up to one wall, he sees his name hasn't been written up, and a tear starts to roll down his cheek.
The leader then turns away and walks to the end of the path, and sits down in his own sorrow.

Nathicana finished her post flight checks, making certain all was well with the Tempest before jacking out, storing the cord neatly away. She looked out the viewport at the familiar scene of the Devonton airport with a smile.

"Always good to come back," she murmurs, surprised still at the sentiment, remembering back to her first trip here. Or rather, what she remembered after she'd woken up from the tranq darts.

You wouldn't have come otherwise, he'd said. True enough. She'd had him on her 'cleaning' list at one time, and had seriously thought of having him eliminated several times since he'd surprised her in SilverCities. And now the man had her rushing off at a moments notice just so she could spend time with him.

"Damn his hide," she said without malice, checking her hair and makeup in the compact mirror she'd drawn from her handbag. Seeing that all was to her satisfaction, she rose and smoothed out her black silk cheongsam, noting with a smile how the dragon curled sinuously up along the curves of her body, picked out in red and gold threads. It was boldly reminiscent of the dress she'd worn to their little 'dinner', and she'd chosen it on account, even going so far as to put her hair up the same as she had then, the two ebony sticks capped with red and gold, accenting the ensemble, holding her raven tresses back in gentle sweeps and curls.

Getting as bad as a damn schoolgirl. Taking up her travel bag, she exited the shuttle with an air of expectation, the hint of a smile on her lips.

High overhead, a single Alliance-class ship slides back into reality, its powerful engines already powering down to standby and essential systems. Shortly, two Vishnai-class fighters slide out of the huge ship and slip deep into the atmosphere.*
*
After recieving clearance from Tresnori defense grid, the two fighters descend into Treznori airspace, zeroing in on the Devonton airport. Before long, the twin craft, undecorated save for the blue-and-gold symbol of Angelus, land silently on the tarmac.
*
Moments later, two figures emerge from the craft, both floating up and out of the ship to coast to a soft landing on the ground. And they pause, awaiting the official welcome.*

The bulky Titan II transport lifted off from Kastaa airfield on its four turbo-fan jets. The whine of fusion-powered rotor blades eased as atmosphere was gained.

Onboard the form of Advisor Kraah could be seen, sipping at a glass of merlot while munching on a newt femur. The Kastaa Players were in another room in the modified Titan II transport, rehearsing their lines and stretching their acting muscles, to Kraah's amusement.

"No no no. A death scene should ALWAYS be exaggerated, but only slightly. Too long and it becomes a farce. Too short and no-one cares. Now try again, and this time with feeeeeliiing." He waves his hand and two actors mocking a duel go at it again to the climax of the death scene. "Much better. Perfect timing on that one. Practice a bit more to lock it down."

The actors retire to practice their technique a bit more, and Kraah takes another sip from his goblet. "Pilot, how long?"

"ETA 1 hour sir."

"Excellent. Get approach vectors and clearance. I'll be catching some winks until then."

"Acting, sir."
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Treznor Air Traffic Control, this is Sakkran Titan transport 050 requesting clearance and approach vectors. Over"

ALTIMIT Broadcaster
Encryption: Standard
Broadcast type: Social
To: Trenzor
Return transmission band: Open
IDENT: Dosei Lt. Governor Ryth

Miss Mithys will arrive accompanied by her personal assistant and bodyguard from the Shogunate Titan colony Dosei via a small personal shuttle with a minor escort. She extends a warm welcome and looks forward to visiting.

>>end transmission<<

The sleek black and orange form of the Queen's Wing sliced easily through the atmosphere, gravity-diffusion systems granting the craft lift despite its less-than-flightworthy frame. Flying in tight escort formation around the craft are six Elite Victory fightercraft, also painted in the distinct black and orange of the "Queens of the Sky" elite aerial operations unit, sometimes known simply as "The Queen's Wing".

"Treznor ATC, this is the RPDC Queen's Wing, bearing Firefury-sama for that party in Devonton. Requesting landing clearance and approach vectors."

After getting cleared, the 200 meter long craft gently sets down, the gravity diffusers emitting a high-pitched whine of relief as the ship's bulk is supported by the landing struts. The six fighters had landed aboard the ship prior to its touchdown, and without further ado, the orange-clad form of Firefury climbs down from the ship, though minus the helmet she usually wears to these affairs, opting instead to tie her short brown hair into a high ponytail. Opening a hatch in the belly of the ship, she drags out a simple rolly-cart thingie stacked high with several boxes bearing the markings of some of the Shogunate's best breweries.

If one looks carefully enough, despite the open, honest grin and playful demeanor, there's a certain steel edge to the reploid's actions, an alertness anybody in a position of power would do well to develop, as the immediate area is swiftly glanced over and the danger risk assessed. The airport apparently passes inspection, as the reploid abruptly spots Nathicana and the Angelans and waves enthusiastically, pushing the laden cart of booze and cheese over. "Heyas! Take it I'm not late for the party?"

Some people thought Firefury was quite psychotic, mood swinging from one extreme to the other. Well, they were half right on that.

The flight took quite some time, But Uriel used to to prepare himself. Unlike most other delegates EC sent out, he had no intention to hide what was special on him.

Finally arriving, he left the brilliant white plane, he himself a a rather impressive figure. 220cm high, with two large, black wings on his back, and the bioluminiszent part on his forehead lightening his face.

"Well, lets see what we can learn from this."

The Devonton spaceport is seeing a lot of work today, Rene thought, looking out at the many international craft as the Tsarainese spaceplane taxied down the runway to join them.

Finally the spaceplane pulled to a halt, and Rene unbuckled herself, standing up creakily in her spacesuit. Technically it would be perfectly safe to release harness any time the spaceplane was on the ground, but the regulations said that nobody was to release harness while the craft was moving, and since she'd helped write the regulations, it would be silly if she didn't obey them.

A click of brackets and a pop of the airseal and her helmet was off, and she held it up as a makeshift mirror, grimacing at the state of her hair.

"Ack, helmet hair."

The pilots, who had their hair shaved sensibly short, and Kaiten, who had no hair at all, shared a furtive grin at that.

Rene pretended not to notice, and climbed out of her suit, stowing it in the suit locker provided like a good little passenger. Which she was; it wasn't done for a Division Commandant to pilot a spaceplane, after all. Although she did miss it sometimes.

"All right," she said, "Tari, you take the crate. Cheer up, girl, it's not that heavy. Besides, just think - you get to gatecrash the Emperor's party."

The young copilot smiled at that, and Kaiten helped her lift the big crate containing the Tsarainese delicacies Rene had said she'd bring ... although several dozen citrus meringues were hardly delicate. And as for the bottles of Tsarainese "napalm" ... that stuff was about as delicate as paint stripper.

From another locker Rene retrieved the much smaller box holding her party clothes; it would be politically disastrous to appear at Treznor's party in a flight suit, after all. She found Kaiten's similar box, too; as her bodyguard, the Rukine Knight had to have his hands free.

Tari too had apparently packed formal wear, probably her dress uniform, so in the end Rene ended up carrying a fair amount. It was likely that nobody would recognise her, dressed as she was.

"Let's go, then," she told them. "I'm sure they'll have a groundcar waiting for us outside the 'plane."

Treznor pulls at his tie as he wanders from crisis to crisis to place his personal touch on things that really need his attention. His staff knows better than to bring things to him, but with all of the guests arriving and so many details to work out, it's inevitable that he finds himself busy.

Ben and his people are out of the palace ferrying arriving dignitaries from the spaceport, and he's just heard that Nathicana arrived with her usual fanfare. He'd also gotten an image of what she's wearing, which makes him grin. I love that personal touch. He's instructed Ben to make sure the visitors are being given the nickel tour of the city and countryside; the armoured limousines are comfortable and quiet enough with their fusion drives that it shouldn't be a hardship. Nathicana, though, is being flown in by chopper. He's anxious to see her again.

Damn, I'm a schoolboy giddy with a crush. Oh well, might as well enjoy it.

"Majesty," Alec says, wringing his hands in that familiar manner of his. It's the one that says he's got bad news, and he's praying to all the gods above and below that his Emperor won't decide this time to shoot the messenger.

"Go ahead, Alec."

"Well, it's about the Sakkra's quarters. They're...too hot."

"Too hot? You're bothering me about a bloody thermostat? What do you mean, 'too hot?'"

"Well, one of the maids passed out with heat stroke when she walked by the door. Someone set the temperature wrong, and we only just got the furniture out before it caught fire."

Treznor pinches the bridge of his nose and grumbles. "All right, reset the temperature in the room and start hosing it down. No chemicals, though. I know we've got heat-absorbing foam available, but the Sakkra are sensitive to chemical fumes. Vent the room to the roof and swap out everything that can be swapped. Oh, and make sure the engineer who fell down on the job has an appropriate lesson taught to him. If you don't understand what I mean, talk to Ben. He'll know what to do."

Alec gives a very slight sigh of relief. "Yes, Your Majesty. At once."

Treznor mutters under his breath and moves on to the next critical error that requires his attention. If he weren't looking forward to this event so much, he'd be stalking off to his gym to destroy a few bags.

Alshai and Sko'loti-Hucy converse quietly in the Hero's Tongue, a language Alshai technically doesn't know. He picked up a few phrases while dirtside in the Tibetan Highlands, but he never learned it like Razak did.

The Mainframe, however, is more than conversant in tkzin'sutung.

"Beautiful country," Skoloti murmurs as she looks out the window of the armored limousene, looking less than comfortable as she scrunches in the seat.

It will be your home for the next while, Kommetrez chuckles. You may be like H'zta and find yourself permanently stationed, if you find it comfortable.

Skoloti flashes him a look, ruining it with a smile as she rolls her eyes and taps the ceiling of the limousene her shoulders rub against. "That is not funny, sir. Unlike Officer H'zta, my hosts are rather... short. I will have to become acclimated to ducking under doors and being careful around ceiling fans. Again."

Kommetrez chuckles. And people wonder why doors are so big and ceilings so high in Scolopendra. At least you are not claustrophobic.

The kzinret sighs. "Not yet, at least."

The transport lands at the Treznorian spaceport, with a loud THUND. An audible hiss could be heard as the massive hydraulic shock-pads kicked in on the landing gear, and the whine of the turbo-fan jet motors wound down. The cargo-door opens, and Kraah steps out decked in an iridiscent purple mantle with matching head-dress. A coterie of actors, musicians and such are behind him, as well as his personal aides. Heaps of luggage and crates are carried on palettes by a pair of Constructor suits, which make an audible *hsss choonk* as they step.

"Hraa, nothing like a bit of fresh air! Is that our conveyance? Damn! Send Treznor a message that we'll need several of these! Har! That should keep someone on their toes!"

She waves enthusiastically at Firefury, starting to head off in that direction when one of the Treznor representatives hurries up to anxiously trying to grab her attention.

Knowing her reputation here all too well, she turns, chin tilted imperiously, gracing the woman with a cool expression.

"Yes?" she asks simply, her tone and bearing making it clear she expects a full explanation, and cat-quick.

"I ah ... if you'll come this way, Dread Lady, the Emperor ... he has ... that is he wishes for you to ... I mean, if you please, we have a chopper waiting to take you to the palace," she stutters, eyes wide, hands wringing nervously. "That is, of course, a-at your convenience."

Nathicana does her level best not to burst out laughing, maintaining the cold exterior with some effort.

"Well then, get to it woman," she snaps, gesturing for the already flustered aide to proceed. "Lead on. We can't have the boy waiting."

"We'll talk at the party!" she yells across the tarmac to Firefury, waving to both her and the Angelic representatives as she catches a glimpse of them.


The chopper ride is uneventful, though she appreciates the view, leaning her chin against her knuckles as she watches the land beneath them speed by. Shortly, they're making their landing on the rooftop pad, aides hurrying forward to take her luggage and help her step down. She plays the part of the Dread Lady to the hilt, delicately allowing them to do so, all with an air of cool detatchment. They pick their way across the roof. The rather hot roof.

"What in the hell ..." she begins, glancing at the shimmering vents of heat and steam shooting up in several areas. She starts to ask those escorting her just what on God's green earth is going on with it all, then closes her mouth again, continuing on.

"Just take me to the Emperor. Now."

The aides look only too happy to do just that, and from their expressions, the sooner they can hand her off, the better.

<tag>

Rene spotted the distinctive orange-and-black of the Arpean Queen's Wing some distance away on the tarmac, as Kaiten opened the door to the waiting groundcar for her (simultaneously checking the inside for hostiles).

After he nodded the all-clear, Rene climbed into the luxurious interior, followed by Tari and Kaiten. The driver, presumably, knew the route to Treznor's palace, and drove them there.

"Well, boy. You look like you got caught wearing loafers in a steel-toed ass-kicking contest."

Treznor turns around to find the source of the sultry voice and breaks into a smile when he spies Nathicana. He waves absently at the aides nearby, all of whom withdraw gratefully. A few steps later he's got his arms around her. "Am I ever glad to see you, Red."

"Why, Dev. I might begin to suspect you missed me. What will the neighbours think?"

"The hell with the neighbours. I've got representatives from a dozen different nations showing up without warning, and now I just got word that the Sakkra just arrived with an entire performance troop. I just got Kraah's room sorted out, and now I hear there's an army of them? I'm gonna need a lot more oxen, and the special wing I built for the Sakkra way back doesn't fit that many of them!"

Nathicana laughs and brushes his hair away from his troubled eyes. "Relax, boy. You'll do fine. Although I'll wait until later to ask about the roof. You need me for anything?"

Treznor takes a deep breath and nods. "Yeah, if you can start meeting and greeting folks, I'd appreciate it. This place is as much your home as mine, anyway. There are folks from Imnsvale already here; they were in town on an economic matter when the Triumvirate voted me in, so I coudln't tell them 'no.' Everybody else is on the long route to the palace, but Carlos should be driven straight here when he arrives. The barbecue pits are due to be lit in three hours, and I've got to get more beef airlifted in for slaughter. Knowing you're here and are keeping an eye on things will help me breathe a lot easier."

"Oh?" She quirks a curious brow at him. "Isn't Ben helping you out?"

"He's handling security arrangements. I need him where he is. Alec is running the palace staff, but we've never attempted anything on quite this scale. He's in over his head, and I'm afraid I am too. This is what I get for always attending other people's parties."

"Very true, boy. Go put out your fires. I'll see to the incoming." Nathicana gives him a single, longing kiss before letting him go and winking at him. "If you need me, just whistle!"

He gives her a low wolf whistle before grinning and preparing to tackle the next problem.

When they finally arrived at the place where the conference was supposed to be helt, Uriel obviously aimed at making some impact.

A big impact, actually, since he made not even the slightest effort to hide what was special on him.

His wings wide open, his forehead glimmering red, he seemed more like a star trying to impress his fans that a diplomat... or the head of intelligence, for that matter.

God, i wonder what the Trium folks looks like... While not filled up with propaganda like the ordinary people in Endless Crimes, he was still... well, not too well informed, although The Dominion of the Dread Lady was a very possible source of information.

However, aside from all that, he wasn´t exactly the most strict regarding the law in Endless Crimes... Quite a few Seraphim were pretty sure he would end soon, too much of a decadent, godless character to survive.

The advantage of this weakness was, of course, that he fit right in in the 'parties' on the international szene.

He walked into the building, his wings touching the door, and leaving one or two black feathers, and looked around, checking on who had already arrived.

Angelus and Xanone nod respectfully towards the Dread Lady, and slide carefully into the waiting limo. The ride was, of course, completely uneventful, and while the countryside was beautiful and the scenery quite interesting to a normal guest, the two Automata sit quietly and await their arrival at the Palace.

Eventually, the driver stops showing them around, and makes a beeline towards the Palace. arriving there in full state. The two creatures in the back seat climb gracefully out, and Xanone pauses to turn back to the driver.

We greatly appriciate your tour of the city. While We are sure you are used to more... diplomatic passengers, We hope We have not offended by Our lack of communication. Angelus and I had important things to discuss. He nods at the driver, and then takes the Mainframe's arm and leads her into the Palace.

Oi, looks like we just made the rush. Alshai scratches the back of his head as he watches the limousenes disgorge their various passengers onto the Palace Grounds. I hate these situations. I know from experience just how overworked the hosts are at this point.

"Hrrrm." Sko'loti-Hucy rubs her furred chin with the pads of her fingers, batwing ears twitching. "This could be an opportinity to ingratiate ourselves with the hosts by asking to help rather than simply dumping ourselves upon them and expecting to be served."

Alshai half-smirks with wry joviality. It'd also be more comfortable for us. Funny how that works out, eh Hucy?

Sko'loti shrugs and smiles. "Is this a complaint, sir? We are comfortable because we are being helpful and that is what we do. They are more comfortable because they have help."

That's the odd thing. Sometimes the hosts don't want help, or, even if they do, they're slightly uncomfortable with guests helping. Kommetrez smiles. Don't worry, Officer, just playing the devil's advocate.

The kzinret taps her chin once with two fingers. "Well, then we offer and leave it up to them to accept or not." With a nod from Kommetrez, the two find someone who looks mildly official and offer to assist.

While it wasn't a fleet of plush limousines that came, the utility trucks that arrived were an even better fit for the purpose of hauling what could only be considered a mobile stage around. The Constructor Suits loaded the palettes onto the trucks, and then climbed in themselves. The operators activated the mag-clamps on the feet to secure them, then powered down their suits and climbed into the cabs of the trucks, looking to gab with the drivers, perhaps?

In the meantime, Kraah was making certain that the troupe managed to fit into the limos in an orderly and comfortable fashion. After jamming in clown-car fashion, they hit the road, and arrived none the worse for wear.

Kraah exits the limo first, and dusts off his mantle and head-dress. "Hraaah! What a ride! Who had their elbow in my ribs the whole time?"

None of the emerging troupe seemed very willing to confess, as they all jumped to maintaining the aura of rushed business. "Hmmmph! Actors......" The trucks pull up then, and Kraah motions for them to wait a moment as the Suit operators exit the vehicles. "Lemme see where we can set up."

Nathicana smoothes her dress idly, watching Treznor hurry off down the hall, still smiling. She shakes her head slightly, then makes her way down to where folks are beginning to show, and gets to greeting, as directed.

As much your home as mine ... why does that still feel odd, in a way?

It is impossible to miss the representative from Endless Crimes. She walks purposefully towards the imposing figure, her head held high and proud, though she brushes nervously at a stray lock of hair, pushing it back from her face quickly.

"Allow me to welcome you to Devonton, on behalf of Emperor Treznor," she says, extending her hand. "Nathicana D'Aquisto, at your service. Please, make yourself comfortable. If there is anything at all you require, please notify the staff, or see me personally. If you'll pardon me," she continued, making a graceful little bow (a proper courtsey out of the question given the cut of her dress), "I must be about my duties. We hope that you enjoy your stay here."

And with that, she moved on to the next group - yet more allies, from another side.

"Xanone, my Lady," she says with a warm smile. "It has been too long. Very pleased you would come - I think it will go a long ways in helping to dismiss some of the Emperor's misconceptions." She offers her hand to both the avatars, giving Xanone's a familiar squeeze.

[Communication - Xanone]: I hope all is well with you, boy. So many changes, so many things have come and gone and progressed. I haven't forgotten our all too brief conversations when last we met, on safari. I hope you've been able to find your answers, and be at peace.

Catching sight of Kommetrez and the kzinret at his side, Nathicana let out a low breath. "I hate to greet and run, but I've been asked to help get the guests settled. Please, if there is anything at all you require, the staff will see to it, or of course, seek me out and I'll do what I can to help make your stay a pleasant one. Thank you again for coming - if you'll excuse me ..."

And with that, she makes another graceful little bow, walking with her usual confident sway towards the Scolopendrans.

"Oh, it's a pleasure to see you here, my dear," she says to Kommetrez, extending her hand, smiling warmly, though in present company, without the flash of teeth. "I trust all is well in the Federated Segments?" To the kzniret she also puts forward her hand in greeting. "Nathicana D'Aquisto of the Dominion," she says by way of introduction. "Please, make yourselves at home. I'm certain Dev--I mean, the Emperor will be down soon. Is there anything I can get you? Anything you need?"

All this delivered in a slightly breathless voice, her blue eyes sparkling a bit with excitement, and a small amount of anxiety. If her hand shakes somewhat in the greeting, it could probably be attributed to a touch of nerves. She eyes a passing tray of beverages with a hungry expression, one hand twitching as if to reach out and stop the staffer carying it, but she stops herself, turning her attention back to the guests with a careful smile.

Seeing the Sakkra arrive, she bites her lower lip, murmuring "Il dio, no wonder Dev was anxious. So many ... and so big ..."

God I need a drink.

Treznor glances at his watch and frowns. Yup. That's what I thought it would say. He snags a glass of scotch and drains it quickly to numb the effects of the headache building behind his eyes before putting on his brightest smile and heading out to face the music.

Literally, it seems. He discovers that the Sakkra brought their own setup, and have assembled it in the front courtyard of the palace. Whereas the festivities were being set up on the back lawns....

He spies Nathicana and makes a beeline for her. "Pardon me," he says to the folks chatting with her. "I'll only cut in for a moment." He pulls her close for a quick, strong hug.

<LOS Communications to Nathicana>
<< Did I mention how terrific you look? You vixen, you. You chose that look deliberately. >>

Then he lets her go and gives everyone a quick bow. "Pardon me, one last fire to put out and then we'll be ready to begin."

He hustles off, lifting his wrist to his lips to start giving orders to have the players shifted to the back lawns once he gives the signal.

"Kraah! Confound it Kraah, don't you feed your people enough? We're sacrificing the oxen on the other side of the building! Good to see you, by the bye...."

To the kzniret she also puts forward her hand in greeting. "Nathicana D'Aquisto of the Dominion," she says by way of introduction. "Please, make yourselves at home. I'm certain Dev--I mean, the Emperor will be down soon. Is there anything I can get you? Anything you need?"

All this delivered in a slightly breathless voice, her blue eyes sparkling a bit with excitement, and a small amount of anxiety. If her hand shakes somewhat in the greeting, it could probably be attributed to a touch of nerves. She eyes a passing tray of beverages with a hungry expression, one hand twitching as if to reach out and stop the staffer carying it, but she stops herself, turning her attention back to the guests with a careful smile.
The kzinret bows shortly in response, accepting the hand with a firm shake. "Diplomatic Officer Skolo'ti-Hucy, ma'am. Honestly, you seem to be in greater need than we are; we would be happy to assist. No need to see the hosts worked too hard for what should be a relaxing occasion, true?"

Alshai nods. I'm with her. These uniforms are utilitarian for a reason... I'll even work grill if you want. Hey... He tilts behind the kzinret, looking at Dev and the Sakkrans. Hum. I could help with that. Yay for Our usual gravitic implants. He immediately goes off (floating for once, just to see the effect it causes) to help with the heavy lifting, possibly with quite surprising results.

Sko'loti chuckles. "I cannot lift quite as much as he can... maybe I can help you greet, ma'am?"

Nathicana pauses, an apology on her lips for needing to attend to other duties, when Treznor arrives, wrapping her up in a tight hug. She hugs him back with more than a little enthusiasm, looking slightly surprised. It takes her a moment to respond, unlike the usual quick wit she tends to show.

"I ah ... Dev, good ... you're here," she says with obvious relief.

<LOS Communications - Devon>
{
<< Grazie, mia caro ... you're looking rather delicious yourself, you know. And yes, I did do it on purpose. And I fully expect to reap the rewards of my efforts later, repeatedly, and with enthusiasm.
}

She blinks as he rushes off to take care of the Sakkra, nodding to the two Scolopendrans and smiling again in the usual way.

"Bene grazie, my friends. Very much appreciated. A pleasure, Officer Skolo'ti-Hucy," she says. "I think I will avail myself of your assistance. I ah, came less than prepared to play hostess, I'm afraid, though of course, happy to do so."

Nathi watches Kommetrez float off to help, her face registering clear surprise. "I thought he disliked the floaty bits," she murmurs quietly, clearly not meaning to have spoken aloud.

"Hrrrr." Sko'loti rubs her chin again. "He does not talk about it much. From what I have heard, it is not so much dislike as... he is less than comfortable with it. Nevertheless, it looks like it could be helpful when it comes to lifting heavy objects and such... a tool, I suppose." She shrugs, then stands beside Nathi, helping her greet incoming guests.

Alshai, on the other hand, quietly berates his lack of practice with the typical Angelan floating. It seems smooth enough to the casual observer, but it is needlessly choppy to any Angelan's eyes with constant correction. I really should practice with this more, no matter how odd it is. Still, after a while, it settles out, as the old M.I. just imagines it to be an extended jump on suit thrusters. Arriving on scene, he taps Dev on the shoulder.

So, what needs moved and where do you need it?

Firefury arrives a little later than most of the others, and given she's minus one crate of sake from what she brought, it could be assumed she had to placate the six pilots from her old Wing, who were presumably on board the Queen's Wing at the airport.

"Konbanwa, minna-san!" She calls out, directing a staffer to get someone to haul her contribution to the kitchens or wherever the food was to go. She glances around, noting familiar faces, studying those she does not recognize. Oddly enough, she doesn't give the Endless Crimes representive any more of a passing glance than any of the more 'normal' delegates, though she does raise an eyebrow at Kommetrez floating by. Sighting Nathicana, Angelus, Xanone and a kzinret she did not recognize off the top of her head, the orange reploid wanders over, brushing wild brown bangs from her face in the process. "Greetings, hi, yo, wassup, and all that! How's everyone this rather hectic day?" The orange reploid bows neatly, cursing at her ponytail falling in her face in the process, since it wasn't crammed up underneath a helmet for a change.

(OOC: Arg! How did I miss this?)
Amid the other noises of the party, nobody noticed two sets of steps that didn't seem to match up with anybody entering the hall. A few feet past the door, Chameleon, in full celebratory dress, accompanied by Master Aidean faded into view.

Quickly striding over to Alshai, the unmistakable LC thrust out a technicolor hand. "Allo! Long time no see. Sorry we're late, but you've gotta admit, that entrance was even cooler than floating over in the Flagship."

S.H.O.D.A.N. steps out of the Palace third floor closet in which she stores her Devonton-based avatar. With an idle-looking stretch calculated to work out a slight compression in a particular back tensor, grey skin moving in response to myomer muscles underneath, she looks out the window and watches the cordial madness unfold.

Goodness, they're busy. Might as well slip out and be helpful. Nodding to the everpresent guards who ensure that she stays away from anything even remotely resembling a terminal, she makes her way out to meet and greet... of course intentionally neglecting to tell Devon first.

Alshai, out on the lawn, whips around with a grin. "Hey, Chameleon. I haven't seen you in a long while." He takes the living computer's hand and shakes heartily. "As long as everyone arrives safely, I don't think punctuality is an issue. It's not like it's a formation or a drop window."

Nathicana nods, pondering. I wonder, what would it be like, giving up one's humanity for ... whatever it is he's gained in return. Her glance slides back to Angelus and Xanone and she abruptly reins her thoughts in, as well as her look.

She's able to cover somewhat as the exhuberant Firefury makes the scene. "Glad you could make it, your Majesty," she says, smiling. "Doing well, doing well ..." Another tray makes it's way past, and this time she reaches out with surprisingly quick reflexes to snag one of the glasses of deep red wine from the surprised Treznori. "Pardon," she mutters before taking a long, slow sip, foregoing her usual methodic savoring. "Greeting can be thirsty work." She reaches out to snag the sleeve of the woman carrying the drinks to keep her from leaving. "Would either of you care for anything? I'm certain the staff can provide."

Draining her glass, and replacing it with another, apparantly without thinking, she waits for them to make their responses, then continues on with the casual conversation.

"I take it your trip here was a pleasant one?" she asks both, sipping her wine slowly now, in short, delicate sips.

Odd ... I don't quite recognize this one ... not bad, though. Not bad at all.

Firefury nods with a grin. "And please, just Firefury will suffice. Or Queenie, like Tsume usually uses." She makes a face. "Never have been big on the formal stuff."

The reploid watches with an amused chuckle as Nathi downs her drink. "I'll hafta pass on having much of anything, bein' a reploid and all. As for the trip, t'wasn't bad. My first time flying the Queen's Wing solo. A two-hundred meter long personal carrier flies a lot differently than a little aerospace fighter." She rolls her eyes at some recollection. "I'll likely never hear the end of it from the rest of my Wing about how awkward that landing was. Maybe they'll go through the case full of sake I left for 'em and drink the landing out of their heads."

As Sabinate was walking out the door to hail a taxi to the party, he nearly hit his head again. It was hell being seven feet tall in a land that wasn't expecting you. Paired with Emily, a five foot tall, blond hair, blue eyed beauty, they were a sight to see walking down the street. They hailed a taxi and proceeded to the nearest convenience store. They had chips to buy.

Eventually making their way to the palace, they pass by the guards who are a bit skeptical before being shown the proper ID. It isn't hard to spot Sabinate and the guards weren't worried about the rather nattily dressed, charming seldane causing problems. After looking around for a second he stopped to scan the room. Thumbing through the small blue and white book he was given, he matched the face to a Miss Nathicana D'Aquisto.

I could have memorized this before, but nooooooo...

"Salutations, Madam D'Aquisto. I realize you are a guest here, but might you know where we are to put these?"

He motioned to the chips under his arm. It was a sight to see. A seven foot tall blue seldane in a custom black-tie tuxedo with chips under his arm, standing next to a five foot tall blonde beauty in a crimson dress, conversing with a head of state about where to place the aforementioned chips.

"We were instructed to bring them and I would like to make them available to others."

Sko'loti chuckles softly, tales of not-so-great landings and interesting contrasts simply tickling her sense of the absurd. "Any landing you can walk away from, ma'am. I am sure that I would not do half as well, given that I cannot fly a simple computer simulation, much less anything else."

Although unaddressed, the orange kzinret offers what assistance she can. "Apparently the festivities are around back. I am sure you will find some catering staff or someone to hand off the goods."

Alshai, out on the lawn, whips around with a grin. "Hey, Chameleon. I haven't seen you in a long while." He takes the living computer's hand and shakes heartily. "As long as everyone arrives safely, I don't think punctuality is an issue. It's not like it's a formation or a drop window."

"Eh, I s'pose. Wow... I've got a lot to catch up on. Been stuck on internal matters lately, 'cept for that visit to WTE HQs. So, what's it like being one of us for a while, wink wink? And where's Shodey? I wonder if she still keeps that spybot around... nasty little critter, but kinda cute. Ah, where are my manners, I should introduce you."

Aidean spoke with a hint of sarcasm. "Cham, you never had any manners for things to happen to."
"I'm hurt! Really, I'm only crazy off-duty. Alshai, this is Darth Vader. Aidean, Alshai Kommetrez."
"Cham, I take offense to that!"
"No you don't."
"Oh, all right, I don't, but please don't call me Darth around other people. It's embarrassing. Or Centurion!"
"But you look just like him in that black body suit! Besides, I can't call you Centurion now. That's only when you've got on a silver flight suit."
"I do not. Sorry, Master Kommetrez. It's an ongoing argument."

"As you wish," Nathicana replies to Firefury, smiling. "I'll remember that." She seems oblivious to the chuckle, taking another brief sip of her wine, relaxing visibly.

"Indeed," she replies to the kzinret, "I think that every time I touch down."

She looks up with obvious surprise at the Imnsvale representatives, having never before seen a seldane, and not knowing quite what to make of it now.

"I ah ... well, yes, I am, however ... chips?" she says, stumbling verbally for a moment. She is saved by Sko'loti, and she shoots her a decidedly thankful look.

"Yes, thank you - around back it is, according to Dev. You!", she snaps at a passing Treznori staffer. "Take the chips these good people have brought, and set them out in whatever way the Emperor has directed."

The younger man blinks, not knowing what what to say to that, but taking the chips with a nod and a respectful bow to Nathicana before leaving to do what he's been instructed to.

"I ... hope you enjoy your stay here in Devonton," she says pleasantly to the odd couple from Imsnvale. "I don't believe I caught your names?"

"Kraah! Confound it Kraah, don't you feed your people enough? We're sacrificing the oxen on the other side of the building! Good to see you, by the bye...."

Kraah's eyes widen slightly. "Emperor Devon! Or is it President? Minister? I can't keep track anymore. They come under the promise of great amounts of food, and a bit of stipend from my personal treasury. But mostly for exposure. The Kastaa Players!" He sweeps his arm in a grand movement, and the assembled troupe bows low, with much flourish.

"But we have yet to set up. Around the back you say? Excellent! You!" He points to one of the Constructor Suit operators, who is 'gabbing' with one of the actresses. He immediately pops to attention, though.

"Get those palettes around back and find a suitable place out of traffic's way to set up. Get their dressing tubes arranged first. The stage, sound and lighting equipment will be after that." The troupe grabs their costumes and luggage off the palettes and begins heading around back.

The operator nods assent and powers up his suit. "Devon, I promised you a bit of Sakkran opera, and I do not welsh on my promises. I just choose to fulfill them at the most in-opportune moments. Hrar!"

Spotting Kommetrez floating up, he whispers a bit. "Has someone reached an evolutionary advancement? What is this?"

"My heartiest apologies. I am Sabinate and this is Emily."

They bowed in synchronization, almost as if they were wind-up toys.

What to say... What do you say to the leader of a nation? Especially one that seems to be frightened by my presence?

"I, erm, I'm sure we will enjoy our stay here. Are there any sights you recommend seeing before we have to depart later in the week?"

Ooh, good one.

Treznor grins and returns the bow to the Kastaa Players. "Just call me Devon, Kraah. We're among friends. I'm pretty sure I can make good on your promise of great amounts of food, although I'm not sure about the rest of the guests.

"I'm not happy that the drivers let you unpack out front. They know we're setting up in back. Hang on." He lifts his wrist to his lips. "Alec, get those transport drivers back to the primary courtyard. And detach a dozen aides to assist the Kastaa Players with setup in the back. I don't care if they get their tuxes dirty, the Sakkra are providing entertainment for tonight. Good man."

He grins and nods to Kraah. "No worries. We'll reload the trucks and have this stuff shifted in no time."

So what needs moved and where do you need it?

Treznor whirls in surprise to find Alshai Kommetrez floating idly nearby. "Mr. Kommetrez. It's a pleasure to meet you, at last. For the moment we just need to wait for the drivers to show up again, then you can help us reload the trucks. After that we can stop working and start enjoying ourselves."

Firefury eyes the Imnsvale representatives. "S'good question, can't say I'm too familiar with the area either. The name's Firefury Amahira, from Reploid Productions. Pleasure t'meetcha!" The orange reploid glances around briefly- obviously she's waiting for somebody. "With any luck our good host will be joining us for that whole mingling with the guests bit."

Kraah seems incapable of peelingone eye from the floating form of Kommetrez. The other oversees the trucks trajectory to the rear of the complex, and then glances at the other guests.

"Mister Kommeterez, I presume? I am surprised I have not met you earlier in my journeys. Or have I? It's hard to remember these days." Kraah shakes his skull a bit, as if attempting to clear it.

"But M..... Devon, you need not worry too much about sustenance for the players. They've raided my private larder aboard my transport, so appetizers will not be a concern. Hrehr."

Alshai grins again at Chameleon. Haven't changed a bit, I see, Chameleon... He winks. Being one of you has turned out to be rather interesting. Gives one... an added perspective on things, especially given Our rather vast knowledge. He shrugs slightly. Shodey does keep that LC, but a single pet can't keep up with a gestalt mind... and, please excuse me, I needs must be helpful. Killing the gravs, he settles back down to his feet and somehow looks a lot more comfortable.

Turning to Devon, he waves idly to Kraah--having never met the one but knowing him well from H'zta's reports--and nods to his host. The pleasure is mine, sir, and I'm glad to help.

He then turns to Kraah. No, I've never had the pleasure of meeting you. Still, glad to meet you, Advisor. He bows shortly. I see they finally got you into semi-retirement... me, they just can't stop.

Kraah opens and closes his mouth swiftly, eliciting a *clop* sound. "Hah! Retirement! My retirement comes at the grave! But I grew weary of an entire populace looking to me for guidance. I did not want to lead sheep, but that seemed to be the case, and only recently has it begun to turn around."

"Reform is a young person's game sometimes, and my hatchling has the 'stones' to enact it. The results are already becoming visible. I'm quite proud of him."

Kraah seems to be becoming a bit wistful, and catches himself. 'But enough of that." He yells at the Constructor operators. 'Hurry up with that! We have a party to attend!"

Turning back again, he extends both his arms. "Devon, i'm certain your guests are wondering if the host left his own party. Let us go inside and enjoy ourselves. I'm sure your men are quite competent, as I am sure of mine. We can't micro-manage everything, yes?"

Treznor reaches for the first thing nearby, an apparently wooden chest with convenient handles, and hefts it experimentally. "Whoof. What have you got in here, Kraah? Jimmy Hoffa?"

He nods to Kommetrez. "There's really no need for you to be helpful, but I won't complain if you volunteer. These fellows know what needs to be moved and where."

Under Kraah's direction, the Players get reloaded back on the trucks and sent off to the back. Treznor manages to get his jacket thoroughly dirty and ripped in a few places, so he removes it and turns up the sleeves of his shirt. "All right. I'm done playing stage hand."

He hops up onto a table, adding some height to his normally short frame. "Ladies and gentlemen of all stripes and species! Thank you very much for attending my little soiree. While the Kastaa Players set up in back, please follow Mr. Alec Tribeca into the palace. Alec, wave for the folks. There he is, by the front doors. Alec will show you to the main ballroom where we'll wait until the show is ready to begin. Thank you once again, and I hope you all enjoy yourselves."

Sights to see ... sights to see ... madre del dio, what sights are there to see here? Her mind wandered over the various things she could vaguely remember. Most of her time here had been spent in more private pursuits.

"Well, there is the Auditorium - great shows there, and Amature Night is not something to be missed. The Ilinshan Bridge is an impressive sight - incredible bit of architectural accomplishment, that. Hrm ... the Latin Quarter and Little Italy are both areas where a lot of fun can be had, and the ristorantes are simply divine. I'm certain De--er, the Emperor could tell you more, once he's finished overseeing the setup."

She smiles at them, and Firefury reassuringly, then finishing off her glass, looking mildly surprised that it's empty so soon.

"Officer Sko'loti, if I recall, you're to be stationed here, yes?" she asks, glancing across the way at the circus of Sakkra, EI, and Treznori staff all working to get things reloaded and placed correctly. She can't help but smile as Devon gets up and makes his announcement, noting his lack of jacket with a slight shake of her head.

"You'll have your hands full with that one," she says to the kzinret, chuckling softly.

Alshai lifts a few bulky steamer trunks and the more unweildy equipment with applied gravitics, doing the usual 'telepathic' routine, apparently guiding the things through the air with his hands. Honestly, I'll never be used to this, he announces to no one in particular, but hey, it's useful at the moment.

Once the work is done, he looks down at his still-decent uniform and back up at Devon's ruined one. Something just doesn't quite click in his trooper's mind; essentially, he feels like he hasn't accomplished anything. Shrugging off the feeling, he follows directions.

Standing by Nathi, the diplomatic officer nods. "This is to be my new post. Al-Sahhah... my predecessor... has already left, and I guess I am looking forward to this new post." She watches Devon work and nods at Nathi's assessment. "I must admit, I am rather surprised at that. I guess we should do what he says, ma'am?"

Kraah opens the wooden chest, and hauls out several bluish-green bottles. "Why, it's our national beverage, of course. Fortified with 7 stimulants to keep you on your toes!" He cracks one open and lets the liquid slide down his tongue and into his gullet. Wiping his mouth, he hands one to Devon. "Haaarr, that really does wonders for an old reptile."

"The Kastaa Players have to get themselves prepared. I'll check on the lighting and sound in a bit, to make sure that everything is in order. In the meantime, let's see how your guests are doing. And might I suggest a change of clothing? Surely an Emperor of your calibre should not look like he just returned from a day at the docks! Hrar har!"

"Aye, do lets," she replies with a close-lipped smile, gesturing for Sko'loti to lead the way. "Come on, Queenie, Sabinate, Emily - lets go partake in the celebration."

"It looks like we've quite the lineup, all things considered."

Firefury chuckles and tags along. "Quite the lineup. Daresay I haven't seen Sakkran opera before. Should prove massively interesting. 'Course, most of you guys haven't seen one of Kaosu no Tenshi's performances, so I guess it evens out in the end."

Despite her large metalic feet- typical of most reploids- she doesn't make much sound as she follows the others inside. "Tonight could prove very interesting indeed. Ah well, good to take a break from the daily stresses of the great game of politics."

OOC: Argh argh argh! Everyone posted while I was wandering around town getting lost! Unfair!

The three Tsarainese arrived at the palace, Tari carrying the heavy refrigerated crate.

The sight of Nathicana was a welcome beacon, and Rene led them towards her ally.

"Nathi!" she called. "Do you know your way around this place? I've got several dozen assorted citrus meringues and bottles of napalm to put somewhere before Tari here falls over."

The Hyazinari, as short as the rest of her racial group, gave Nathicana a nervous nod.

"Oh, and we need somewhere to change into more formal wear," Rene continued, "Flight suits are hardly fashion symbols, after all."

OOC: And Nathi appears to be asleep now, so I guess I can wait for a reply. Argh, the Wind That Devours Humanity is eating me alive.

Treznor spies the arrival of the Tsaraine guests, conspicuous in their dress and even more so with the heavy crate. He gestures to an aide and moves to intercept while putting on a fresh tuxedo jacket.

"Firefury, Rene, it's a pleasure to see you again. I'm glad you could join us." He kisses the ladies' hands, then slips an arm around Nathicana's waist.

Nathicana smiles at him and fetches another glass from a passing tray. "Dev, Rene was just asking for a place to freshen up. I was going to suggest the Blue Room, since it isn't far and they don't know their way around."

Treznor gives Nathicana a curious glance, briefly eyeing the wine in her hand, but doesn't comment. Instead he shakes his head and turns back to Rene. "The Blue Room would suffice, but it's a public room for guests. It's hardly a VIP lounge. Let my people show you to the suite assigned to you, and you can rejoin us at your leisure. George here will take the crate to the kitchens. What should the chef expect? Meat? Vegetables? Exploding crockery?"

"Citrus meringues, actually," Rene replied. "Made from fresh oranges. And lemons. And other things I don't know the names of. You wouldn't believe how expensive it was to get those things imported... also several bottles of napalm."

Treznor looked rather shocked at that, she noted.

"Don't worry," she assured him, "It's an alcoholic beverage. One hundred percent proof."

"Forty-two, actually," Kaiten corrected her.

"Forty-two, then. But it tastes like it's one hundred. They brew it down in Hydroponics out of I don't want to know what.

"Thankyou for the suite," she added, "I should hate to have to wear this all evening."

[ooc: hooray for posting late... well, little timewarp, here]

ic:

"Allow me to welcome you to Devonton, on behalf of Emperor Treznor," she says, extending her hand. "Nathicana D'Aquisto, at your service. Please, make yourself comfortable. If there is anything at all you require, please notify the staff, or see me personally. If you'll pardon me," she continued, making a graceful little bow (a proper courtsey out of the question given the cut of her dress), "I must be about my duties. We hope that you enjoy your stay here."

Uriel bowed, deeply, and took Nathicana`s hand, gently... kissing it. "It´s an honour to be here, mylady." He said with a... yes, with a sweet voice.

Looking at the leaving Nathicana, he noticed Firefury, perhaps mainly because of her lack of notice for him.

I think i need to talk... especially considering the current circumstances.

Sko'loti-Hucy makes her way into the hall with visible relief--which could be attributed to that, being a hall, it doesn't have any low ceilings or doorframes to worry about--and then bows shortly to Nathi. "Thank you, ma'am, for letting me help; if you need any more, just ask." She bows again to Firefury in turn, smiling softly. "A pleasure to meet you, ma'am. I have never been surrounded by so many heads of state." Stepping back--"Excuse me, but I have to earn my pay"--she turns and fades (?) into the crowd, still generally clearly visible thanks to her innate ability to tower over it.

Kommetrez wanders in and looks around. Parties. I never was any good at parties. Still, he wanders about with a smile, making sure to wave towards the other Angelans and wink knowingly at the other EI attending.

Shodey returns the wink, shaking her head with a smile. He's adapted quite well... surprisingly so. She keeps up with her self-assumed role as hostess, taking note of the more peculiar guests.

Alshai grins again at Chameleon. Haven't changed a bit, I see, Chameleon... He winks. Being one of you has turned out to be rather interesting. Gives one... an added perspective on things, especially given Our rather vast knowledge. He shrugs slightly. Shodey does keep that LC, but a single pet can't keep up with a gestalt mind... and, please excuse me, I needs must be helpful. Killing the gravs, he settles back down to his feet and somehow looks a lot more comfortable.
"Yeah, having the complete assembly of human knowledge on call is kinda weird sometimes... Well, Why change when I have so much fun the way I am. Must be off to terrorize the natives!"

Leaving Aidean standing idly, Chameleon dissappeared again, an impish grin being the last bit to fade into transparency.

"Now... who to freak out first..."

"My pleasure, Officer Sko'loti-Hucy. I look forward to getting to know you better. And thank you again - much appreciated," she says to the departing kzinret, dipping her head slightly in return.

After greeting Rene, Nathi sips her drink quietly for a moment, oblivious to Devon's look, more concerned that she's seemed to have misspoke. She nestles in against him, feeling oddly self-conscious, listening to the banter back and forth. Napalm? Indeed ...

"It is good to see you, Rene," she says with a smile, recovering somewhat. "I'm glad you could make it."

As her eyes wander, she catches a glimpse of a familiar figure, and smiles.

<LOS Communications - Shodey>
{
<< Good to see you made it, sis - not that I doubted, considering that lovely trick with the avatars you have.

<< Hope you enjoy the party. [hug analog]
}

Her eyes flicker over Kommetrez again, her expression thoughtful, once again, sipping quietly from her glass.

"A good vintage, this," she murmurs to Devon, sounding a touch distracted. "You'll have to tell me where you got it."

Treznor squeezes Nathicana fondly, although his voice is tinged with mild concern. "I'm glad you like it. It's your third glass of it. I told you Wendlyn made decent wines. Not that I'd put her entire stock up against yours, but some of them are nicely rounded. You should try that one with dragon steak sometime."

He frowns and sighs, lifting a hand to touch his earbud. "Say again? Dammit, the Empire will compensate his loss. Oh really? Give him a choice: a voucher for two million dubloons, or a short trip to the local prison. Do you even have to ask that? Right, now get moving. I'm supposed to slaughter the first ox in a little over an hour."

He sighs and lifts Nathicana's hand to kiss it. "Sorry about that. The rancher I'm purchasing from doesn't want to sell the entire herd. Now then, shall we go back to mingling? If I'm not mistaken, I caught sight of S.H.O.D.A.N. out of the corner of my eye. I can only imagine the mischief she's gotten herself into now."

The black-robed figure of Master Aidean wnadered about aimlessly, not really being acquainted with anyone. Living most of your life underground doesn't lead to very good social skills... so he decided to wait for someone else to talk to him. He ran his gloved fingers over the watch on his wrist, feeling for the braille bumps raised by micromotors to indicate the time.

Dang. Where the heck is Neasa? I can understand not wanting to participate in Chameleon's little stunt, but she shouldn't take this long....

Nathicana snorts quietly. "I'm quite certain it's two, dear. Though I admit, the wine is good, I still maintain my Delacourt to be superior." She takes another sip, pointedly unconcerned. "As for the steak, I'll leave that to you, Dev."

She shudders lightly, remembering back to the vision she'd seen in Kalessin, watching Dev and Wendlyn eating, wondering again at just how Cavile had managed that exactly ... and shivering again at the rest of the pleasant memories that go with the ponderings.

Lost in her reveries, she hardly notices the interruption, though she smiles warmly at him as he kisses her hand. "I'm certain you'll manage, Dev. You always do. And yes - I would like to see Shodey, if we can track her down."

I'm pretty sure that's her third. Uh, yup. Oh boy.

Treznor shrugs and makes sure the Tsaraine group are well in hand before turning back to rejoin the party. "Now then, let us mingle. Hmm...who'se the fellow in the severe black robe? I don't recognise him. He looks a bit...lost."

He makes his way toward Aidean, hoping Nathicana will fill him in on the way.

She pauses for a moment, thinking, then nods. "That I believe, is Master Aidean of Eniqcir. Truth, I'm surprised to see him here alone. From what I remember, I half expect to see others," she says, walking alongside Devon.

As Devon and Nathi approached, Aidean turned to face them, a slightly disturbing action when one noticed that his eyes were entirely obscured. The red light at the side of his veil flickered an scanned up an down.

"Dala. Ta raí Melíagroí Aidean Lacaínbhailígh Eniqcíré na. But you probably knew that. Hard to miss, aren't I? And you are? Sorry if you're someone exceedingly prominent, but I'm not that good at recognizing faces."

Shodey smiles, apparently to herself.

<LOS-Communications to Nathi>
{
<< [hug analog] Just thought I would help, seeing how our good Devon seems to once again have bitten off more than he's comfortable with. [grin analog] I'll be sure to enjoy... just be careful with your consumption. That implant isn't invulnerable, you know.

<< Hope to eventually meet up with you and Dev later. I still need to compliment him on how expediently the Council of Yut accepted him.
}


Sko'loti-Hucy bumps into something. "Pardon..." Looking around, she doesn't see anything and shrugs.

Kommetrez notices some sort of reddish seraph wandering around. Heh heh heh. An Angel talking to an angel. Why not? Walking up cordially, he bows shortly with a smile, brown eyes faintly glowing. "Advisor Kommetrez of Scolopendra. Who are you, sir?" He extends a hand in greeting, just like he would to anyone else.

Chameleon quickly shuffled away. Gotta be more carefull. Won't do to go bumping into people whe I'm invisible. Trouble is, making my retinas visible and nothing else would be more freaky than I'm trying to achieve here... stupid blurry IR vision. A hAH!

Spotting Shodey, Cham strode over next to her, and, just making his neon eyes visible hanging in the air, said "Whaddaya think of my upgrade? I love declassified military technology, don't you?"

"My preference has always been for rigs... especially classified ones." She grins as she looks back at Chameleon's eyes. "How do the Eniqciri deal with you, you imp? Hopefully you keep their collective sense of humor sharp."

The kzinret watches the avatar talk to the thin air... no... wait... disembodied eyes. Suppressing a shudder, she wanders off to find her new host. Damned odd creatures you find at Triumvirate functions.

"Ah, but one is not allowed to take classified technology to parties."

Chameleon's body faded back into view, colorful starbursts playing across his synthetic skin. "I'm only crazy off-duty. That's why you've never gotten an authorized communiqué from me. Responses to diplomatic announcements are so much more fun when you're not constrained by the need to be respectful. I prefer to think of it as me dealing with them. All those beaurocrats are so dry all the time," Chameleon fained seriousness, "it is my most solemn duty to inject levity into our grnad government... Maybe if I didn't have to do any serious work, I wouldn't have to make up for it at times like these. Then again, maybe I'd just be a total terror. Methinks Inbhailígh hasn't fired me yet 'cause I keep the rest of the staff from boring him to death. Ah, but they do keep me busy Down Under. Oh, there are some cool things there. If we'd had you-know-what a couple decades ago, you wouldn't have found your cute little pet. Oh dear. I'm rambling again. Quick, change the topic!"

Firefury finds a good wall to lean against, letting Nathi and Devon meander off, alert blue eyes sweeping the crowd. Lotta unusual sights in town. The orange-clad reploid notes, fiddling idly with her ponytail. If I hadn't had enough 'unusual' experiances to last ten lifetimes, I'd probably be struck dumber than an Air Corps. newbie. A tall blue-skinned guy, kzinret, even a guy with feathered wings... she had seen things far more unusual than that. Besides, it wouldn't do for a queen to gawk like some newbie who just saw the Space Taxi for the first time.

She glances toward the door- obviously she is expecting someone, or someones, who have yet to arrive. And frag it all, when is Rel-Kitani going to get here?.... and that other guy. She frowns in thought, dozens of scenarios running through her head.

Kraah oversees construction of the modular stage for a short time, but swiftly grows bored of it. "Notify me when the sound and light equipment is ready for some test runs, yes?"

The Constructor Suit operator nods. "Aye, sir."

Kraah turns and climbs the stairs into the party, and enters, sweeping his Imperial Mantle around him. Scanning the room and sniffing the air, he notices several unusual scents. Too much of a tangy scent in the air. Must be some 'chromed' folks around. He then notices the seraphim in the room, as well as the K'zin Ret. Most fascinating. This could turn out to be quite an amusing affair!

"Quick, change the topic!"
Shodey responds as if it were the most natural thing. "What do you think of EOTED's most recent diplomatic gaffes?"

"Dala. Ta raí Melíagroí Aidean Lacaínbhailígh Eniqcíré na. But you probably knew that. Hard to miss, aren't I? And you are? Sorry if you're someone exceedingly prominent, but I'm not that good at recognizing faces."
Treznor reaches out his hand slowly, unsure if the scanner will pick up his intention and relay it appropriately. "Devon Treznor, your host. I'm pleased you could be here. This is the first time I've had quite so many guests to celebrate the Bloodfeast, let alone such distinguished guests as yourself. You seem to be lacking a drink, sir. Can I arrange something for you?"

He gestures to the side for an aide, who quickly steps forward. "This young lady here will be assigned to you for the day. If you need anything, just ask her and she'll do her best to get it for you."

Safely delivered to the Tsarainese suite, the three Tsarainese (OOC: I am going to get really sick of writing that) showered and dressed.

Rene dried her damp hair, unpacked her clothes, and dressed with the efficiency of an old spacer, in reasonably plain trousers and shirt; she disdained dresses as impractical.

This outfit was apparently designed after the court garb of the first Dominion, and thus the knee-high boots (which she'd hate to walk any distance in, but the things had been designed by the Tsa, who had perfected the massed cavalry charge), and the gloves. Neither of which she was particularly fond of, but the whole ensemble (OOC: which should probably have an accent somewhere) would look silly without them.

The coat, however, she did like, although the thing was a far cry from the somber blacks of normal Tsarainese garb; the fabric was a deep red, stiff with blue and gold embroidery in the knotty, squarish patterns of the pre-Dominion Tsa.

The high collar was definitely a first Dominion attribute, although Rene noticed, doing them up, that the buttons were marked with little Omnisciences, the symbol of the Commonwealth.

Thus dressed, she tied back her hair and looked in the mirror. Acceptable; she looked somewhat like a raven pretending to be a parrot, but she was, at least, not a garish parrot.

Rene emerged into the main room of the suite to find Kaiten wearing a Rukine Knight's dress uniform, correct down to the buttons on the cuffs. Tari, however ... well, that certainly wasn't a dress uniform. If any Tsarainese design team had come up with that dress, she'd have them punished for encouraging immorality.

However, she merely raised an eyebrow, and pointed out that "You're going to get cold, wearing that." Although the weather, for midwinter, was suprisingly mild.

Sighing inwardly - Fate was cruel, for such a powderkeg to be created by the member of her little group who probably wasn't supposed to be there - Rene led them back to the main room, to meet and greet.

(YARG! Evil post-eating forum!)
"Quick, change the topic!"
Shodey responds as if it were the most natural thing. "What do you think of EOTED's most recent diplomatic gaffes?"
"Oh ho ho! It was fun writing that message. Possibly my best work in over a month. Mind you, I took a stern talking-to to pull it off. The Empire of Waxing Dusk may be the worst bunch of diplomats I've ever seen, but I really can't complain. They provide so much great material for parody. All that false archaism is just too good to pass up making fun of."

Treznor reaches out his hand slowly, unsure if the scanner will pick up his intention and relay it appropriately. "Devon Treznor, your host. I'm pleased you could be here. This is the first time I've had quite so many guests to celebrate the Bloodfeast, let alone such distinguished guests as yourself. You seem to be lacking a drink, sir. Can I arrange something for you?"

He gestures to the side for an aide, who quickly steps forward. "This young lady here will be assigned to you for the day. If you need anything, just ask her and she'll do her best to get it for you."

"Ah... pleased to meet you, too." Aidean returned the handshake. "You should watch out for an invisible man with neon eyes. You'll make prime characature material if he finds you. Er... well, look for him when he's not invisible, anyway. Hard to miss, technicolor skin and all. Many thanks for your hospitality, but I don't think I quite qualify as distinguished. Mysterious, perhaps. First time I'v left the White Tower in, oh, 7 years, round about."

Treznor frowns slightly, forgetting the other fellow can't see it. "Invisible man? Hmm...I'll keep an eye out for him. I'll make sure my staff doesn't shoot him accidentally, as well. His artificial skin doesn't project a strong electromagnetic field, does it? That would be...unfortunate for him.

"At any rate, I'm honoured to have provided you with the occasion to come down and mingle for a while. The feast should begin in a short while, and as I said this lady will be available to see to your needs. If you need anything at all, don't hesitate to ask."

He bows slightly and steps away, nodding briefly to Firefury before mingling once again with the crowd.

How many times have I done this at other parties? It feels strange to do it at my own.

As the guests mingle about, Kraah takes stock of everyone in his view. Which is to say, nearly everyone. The benefit of being 7'6".

Hrrrmmm....Interesting. Winged being there. Could be precarious, but I doubt it. A variety of mammals. Devon and his companion seem to be doing well, though her cup may have runneth over. Ah, some booze!

He stops a passing servant bearing a tray of beverages. "I commandeer this tray in the name of the Empire!' He then lightens the servant's load, and proceeds to find himself some manner of table to sit at.

Sko'loti-Hucy watches as her host wanders about, and decides that this is as good a time as ever. Stepping up to a respectful distance, she bows shortly in the Scolopendran fashion. "K'tazgoowjy ksnut'k eelo, Devon Treznor-Rrit." She raises back to her 230 centimeter height, and extends a hand. "Sraap' Tyuc-Raujoll Sko'loti-Hucy wtunu Sko'lopendrrah."

Her muzzle-like lips smile broadly as she affixes her yellow eyes on Devon's.

Treznor looks up...and up...and up.

Oi. I'm going to have to have the north wing refurbished. The ceilings and doorways will not be comfortable for her.

Okay, Dev. Here goes.

"Eelo Tyuc-Raujoll Sko'loti-Hucy-Rrawlrit wtunu Sko'lopendrrah. Wtahifb keeheelabp kchop zraa'n."

He finishes his slow, halting speech and takes a deep breath.

With any luck I didn't just insult her parentage back five generations.

**********************

Elsewhere, a servant in black-and-silver liverie approaches Kraahl. "Sir, if it pleases you, the Emperor has arranged for a special...mug for your use." He gestures to the burly man struggling under the weight of a very large and rotund barrel. The top end sports what can only be described as a plastic straw. An elegant, stately straw, but a straw nonetheless.

Kraah takes note of the straw, and decides against it. 'You need lips to use that, yes? Look closely."

With that he opens his mouth a bit. His tongue curls and undulates along the roof of his mouth. "No lips." He closes his mouth again and proceeds to quaff another glass. "However, you may leave the barrel with me. I'm certain I can make 'some' use of it."

The kzinret chuckles, breath huffing quietly through her nostrils. "You honor me too much, Emperor Treznor, but I assure you that there will be peace between us, for are we not allies?" She pauses for a moment. "For being self-taught, you handle yourself well. I have had much worse self-'taught' students before in my tkzin'sutung classes... although they were usually teenagers. My biggest critique at the moment... I am not of the house of the Patriarch." She chuckles. "I will be honored to be your mentor in the study of my language, and to be the liason between our nations."

She looks around at the party. "I am anxious to begin work, but, as you announced, it is a Midwinter Bloodfeast celebration, and I have never been able to pass one up in the past. Business can wait, no?"

<tag for good readin'>

Treznor bows slightly to Hucy. "You mean, I didn't mangle it too much? Gods, your language gives me a sore throat." He steals a sip from Nathicana's glass and winks at her. "I'm glad you were able to understand me. I thank you for your kind words, and I look forward to working with you on a personal and professional level. Your predecessor maintained some rather spartan quarters along the Diplomatic Row in Devonton, but I hope you'll be comfortable here in my palace. It'll make language lessons much easier, at least once I get the wing remodeled.

"For now feel free to relax and consider yourself just another guest at the party. This is all strictly informal, so kick back and enjoy yourself. If you like, I can arrange for one of the oxen to, er, escape for you."

************

The servant nods to Kraah and gestures for his counterpart to set the barrel down. "Very good, Sir. The Emperor hopes you'll enjoy sampling his favourite beer."

Before he retreats, he reaches down to the base of the "straw" and squeezes a small lever, causing a brief geyser of liquid to spout from the top. Then he disappears adroitly into the crowd.

Nathicana blinks, excusing herself from Devon and the others, draining the last of her glass, and passing it off to one of the passing help with a murmured "thanks".

<LOS Communications to Shodey>
{
<< I'm always careful. You know that. [delivered with a touch more snap and heat than intended]

<< As for Dev, aye, he has taken on rather a lot. Still, it's a good crowd, and he's plenty of help. And the acceptance? No doubt it was your sponsorship that had much to do with that - for which I thank you.
}

Her brow furrows at the convo, all the same. What the hell is with everyone today? Christ, you'd think I'd never had a glass before, the way they're acting.

Still, as the next tray goes by, she stops herself from partaking, making a brief irritated snort.

Making her way through the crowd, she watches the Sakkra set up, curious to see what their entertainment is going to entail. Still, she keeps an eye on Devon, an expression of watchful protectiveness creeping into her eyes as she absentmindedly rubs her now empty ring finger.

"A pump keg!! Ah, this takes me back to my days at the University." Placing a clawed hand on his chin, Kraah looks wistfully at the ceiling. "I wonder if the ystill have my trophy displayed there?"

A Sakkran technician enters the party area, and scans the crowd. Seeing the Advisor about to partake of copious amounts of beverage, he bustles over swiftly and hunkers down.

"The sound and lighting equipment is ready for your inspection, sir."

"Is it? Gads, you folks do fast work. Very well! Lead on." He hoists the barrel up and tucks it under his arm, 'testing' the pump first, and seeming satisfied as a jet of liquid sprays into his mouth.

Shodey seems to pause in mid-thought, blinking as an odd expression flickers across her face. She seems surprised and... maybe a little hurt? for a split second before continuing with her usual casual demeanor, although the very observant will note her eyes to have a guarded quality.

<LOS-Communications to Nathi>
{
<< I... er... didn't mean... ah... you're welcome. Always glad to be helpful to you and yours, sis.
}

Sko'loti also looks rather surprised, but in a much more pleasant way. Her bat-wing ears twitch, her nostrils flare slightly, and her claws flick out just a little bit due to instinct at the thought of such an engineered 'escape.' Breathing a little faster than normal, she nods slowly, then looks down at her uniform. "Vuul ch'bokz. I only wish I could take you up on such an offer."

Now wait just a damn minute ... that's not right.

Shodey's response grabs her attention, and she scans the crowd of people for her sister-in-mind, a look of concern on her face, biting her lower lip absently. Finally catching sight, she walks with a decidedly determined gait, lightly laying a hand on the avatar's shoulder when she reaches her.

"Sis ..." she says hesitantly.

Treznor grins and lowers his voice to a more conspiratorial tone. "Inji hri. As far as I'm concerned you're off-duty. If your uniform happens to get a bit dirty, then we'll just make you a new one, right?"

He gestures to a waiting aide and picks up an oddly shaped glass that tapers off into a fluted funnel. "I regret these drinking glasses can't hope to achieve the elegance and quality of the piece that Speaker showed me, but I hoped they would make a nice gesture to you and your people."

Shodey turns to look down at her sister-in-mind, letting her concern and worry return to her face. "I don't mean to impose or direct, really," she says quickly before looking up momentarily, scanning the crowd. "Maybe this is better discussed in private." This is new... I've never felt... rebuffed before. It stings, coming from family... ponder it later, Shodey. For now, get it in the clear. She deserves as much.

"Off-duty... hrrm." The kzinret bows her head in thought, idly unclasping the right-hand seam of her double-breasted uniform from under her shoulderboard, folding over the blue duty-flap, obscuring the silver S-shaped centipede insignia and nametag. "If this were an informal setting, I could go without the uniform entirely," she muses mostly to herself. Accepting the goblet, she looks it over and nods appreciatively. "Thank you, Emperor Treznor. You are a most gracious host; you are taking care of me far too much, from offers of hunting to appropriate drinking vessels." From her speaking, it's obvious she's a linguist; the vowels and soft tones of English flow easily from her denoting practice, understanding, and a career of teaching.

"No, please ... it's nothing. Rather, it's not you," Nathi murmurs, impulsively hugging the being she'd come to view as her only family, odd as that seemed to some.

She looks nervous and uncomfortable at the mention of talk, yet she nods, drawing back with a quiet, wistful smile. "I'm sure there's a quiet corner we could steal off to. Devon's got plenty of help, and he's only a comm link away, should he need me." She loops her arm around Shodey's, nodding in the direction she's thinking of going. "I'm sorry for snapping at you like that. I didn't mean to. I've just ... "

Nathi trails off lamely, not meeting her chosen sister's eyes, keeping her thoughts to herself.

Treznor frowns slightly, forgetting the other fellow can't see it. "Invisible man? Hmm...I'll keep an eye out for him. I'll make sure my staff doesn't shoot him accidentally, as well. His artificial skin doesn't project a strong electromagnetic field, does it? That would be...unfortunate for him.

"At any rate, I'm honoured to have provided you with the occasion to come down and mingle for a while. The feast should begin in a short while, and as I said this lady will be available to see to your needs. If you need anything at all, don't hesitate to ask."

"Sticks out like a neon lamp on infrared, but otherwise pretty normal. Again, thank you for your hospitality. Good day." Aidean gave a small bow, and turned to the aide. "As I have no idea what your face looks like, it might be a good idea to stay close by, so as I don't lose you."

Chameleon, meanwhile, spirited himself away to find Kraah.
Darn. He's leaving. I simply must challenge one of them to a drinking contest....

Treznor exchanges a glance with SHODAN as Shodey follows Nathi to the aforementioned corner. Making sure no one is within listening distance as she begins. "I'm just concerned, is all... not telling you how to live your life."

<LOS-Communications with Devon>
{
<< Yes, Devon?

>> Oh, just concerned with Nath's increased alcohol levels. I mentioned it directly once and indirectly a time after that, and she's gotten very defensive very quickly.
}

Nathi pats her arm quietly, nodding. "I know, I know ... I'm sorry. It's just that Dev had just gotten done hounding me, and I ... well, I was touchy, I suppose."

{
<< I've also mentioned it... and recieved the same response.

>> I'm a bit concerned. She's an experienced drinker, but never so hard. I've only noticed it twice, but the behavioural shift has been significant.

<< Agreed... it has seemed rather sudden, hasn't it?

>> I wouldn't say sudden, but certainly troubling. She's been under a lot of stress lately. Did she tell you about her problems with Jaime?
}

Shodey rests her hands lightly on the insides of Nathi's elbows, looking gently at her sister's face. "That's understandable, but I'm sure he didn't mean to hound. We're just concerned for you and wanting to look after your better interests. It's what we're here for, honestly."

Nathi looks up, her brow furrowed. "It's that noticeable, is it?" she asks quietly.

"So far, only to us... because we know you so well." The avatar smiles softly out of concern.

{
<< Not as such.
}

Nathi sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, then rubbing thumb and fingertips across her brows. "I've ... realized that perhaps, of late, I'd allowed my habits to change a bit," she admits carefully.

{
>> She's been caught between Jaime and myself. Apparently neither of us has been pressuring her to give up the other, but she's felt torn nonetheless. Now she's finally made her decision, and she's going to annul her marriage. My sources say she's already contacted him by letter, but hasn't received a response.

<< I hadn't been told of the annulment... poor thing.

>> I feel for her, I do. It counts as a victory for me, but a loss for her no matter what her decision.

<< [nod analog] She cares a great deal for Jaime... I only wish she'd come to me before this.
}

Shodey pats Nathi's arm gently. "Things have been hectic as of late, I know, but they'll calm down soon enough. Just know that both Dev and I are here for you if you need us."

{
>> You know Nath. She won't burden people with her problems if she can hide it.

<< I know that all too well. [soft chuckle analog] I also know that direct confrontation won't work... minds like ours are simply too stubborn to listen to such things. [wry grin analog]

>> Actually, sometimes direct confrontation works wonders with her. It doesn't change her mind right away, but it at least gets the notion in her head. I can usually trust her to make a rational decision after the shouting is done and the knives are put away.

<< [null]

>> You can't tell me you didn't know about her fondness for knives? [laugh analog]

<< That's... not it. [soft chuckle analog] Let's just say that being very similar to someone causes one to use the same incorrect assumptions for them as one uses for oneself. I've just been... reminded of things, is all.

>> Um, I won't pretend to understand. But if I've been of assistance, then I'm glad.

<< Well, it's not so hard to understand. I'm sure you've noticed how uncannily similar Nath and I can be at times.
}

Nathi nods, pushing back a stray lock of hair from her face. "It's done, you know," she says, casting a quick sidelong glance towards Devon, her eyes tightening slightly. "I've not told him yet. There hasn't been time." She rubs absently along her upper chest and throat, wincing a bit. "Bugger all, but this heartburn has gotten out of control. Nothing I take seems to help it."

Shodey blinks. "What heartburn?"

{
>> Aside for your prediliction for singing bad showtunes? Well, yes.

<< Just in case you ever wondered why we consider each other as kin.

>> I'll bear that in mind, thanks.

<< I figure we've abused you enough for you to deserve to know... so at least now you have some idea where it comes from.

>> Thank you. I appreciate the trust you're placing in me.
}

"Right here," Nathi replies, tapping a spot. "Stress and all, I know. Wouldn't be a damn bit surprised if it weren't ulcers next," she mutters.

"That's a little high for heartburn." Shodey pauses in thought, then idly places her hand over the spot indicated, her other hand on Nathi's back, fingers acting as ultrasound transcievers. Other than looking slightly odd, there's no sensation to it. "Your filtration implant is trying to talk to you."

Nathi holds still for the quick exam, brow arching. "It's what?" she says, not quite comprehending.

"The filtration implant I put in you," she responds quietly, explaining patiently but not condenscendingly, "is something like a very effective liver. It serves the same purpose. Just like the liver, too much alcohol can damage it--cirrhosis--but unlike the liver, it's made of annelid. Annelids are by their very nature set to survive, and as it--being a symbiote--is arguably an animal seperate from you... It's basically looking out for it's own survival by warning you that it's being damaged. Only way it can do this is excite pain nerves."

{
<< It's about time I started reciprocating, no? [chuckle analog] On the Nathi front, maybe we don't have to directly confront, exactly. Her body seems to be doing a good enough job of that.

>> [frown analog] What are you talking about? Is she all right? Does she need anything?

<< She should be fine if she cuts down the consumption. Her filtration implant is just giving her a hard time, and rightfully so.

>> What will it do to her if she continues to abuse it?

<< Hurt more, then eventually degrade. It's no more than an extremely efficient liver. In other words, it will act just like any other organ pushed beyond its capabilities.

>> All right. Is she aware that the implant is signalling her?
}

Nathi starts to say something, then stops, looking guilty. "So I ... well. I suppose that perhaps ..." Biting her lower lip, she takes time to consider that for a moment, opting not to deny nor admit anything in particular. "Can the damage be fixed, then?" she asks, concerned.

"Again, like a liver, it can heal itself." Shodey decides to neglect mentioning her first thought, which is a repair-method similar to the one used on Rene. "Still... like a liver... it can only take so much abuse."

Nathi nods, knowing where all this is going, and not liking it - and likeing even less that she's no one really to blame for it. Her jaw setting stubbornly, she asks nonetheless. "Suggestions?"

"I don't think you need to abstain completely... it is designed to take some level of constant abuse. Still, I honestly think you just need to be more moderate in your consumption." While trying to be understanding, Shodey's voice maintains a sort of firmness that she knows is required. "A little bit of proactivity here will prevent future problems."

"Consequences for not?" Nathi asks simply.

"Well, if you continue to force this down your symbiote, it will be forced--by its own nonsentient survival instinct--to try and dissuade you more forcefully. It would hurt even more, and more steadily, until it is given sufficient relief to recuperate. This is assuming that true cirrhosis doesn't begin to set in, which has the same symptoms and potential for fatality as cirrhosis of the liver."

{
<< I'm telling her right now.

>> Okay. So she has enough information to make her own choice. I'll have to settle
for that.

<< [nod analog] I'm not about to force her hand. I respect her too much for that.
}

Nathi takes it all in with a curt nod, though she manages a smile for her sister-in-mind. "Understood." Bloody hell ... "Now, I suppose, it's simply a matter of ... ah hell, sis." Giving up the businesslike facade for a moment, she again hugs Shodey tight. "Own worst enemy, as usual."

Shodey hugs Nathi close, nodding. "As always. Still, we're tough. I know you'll make the right decision and get past this, just like everything else."

{
>> Never let your morals get in the way of doing what's right.

<< I think that's the first time I've heard you ascribe morals to me.

>> It's a quote from an old Asimov novel. Besides, I told you I'm working on it.

<< [nod analog] I know... and you're improving. It's... appreciated. [smile analog]
}

Nathi shakes her head all the same. "If I made the right decisions more often, I'd not be where I am right now. Still ... adapt and live, eh?"

"Past decisions are made." Shodey smiles softly. "Exactly. All one can do is learn and adapt."

Nathi offers up a crooked smile. "True enough, on both points. I'm sorry, again, sis. Lets get back to the mingling before Dev thinks we're up to something and starts panicking, shall we? And ... I'll try."

Shodey chuckles. "He -always- thinks we're up to something... usually because he's right." Visibly relieved, she looks back out to the crowd, putting out her arm for Nath. "I think we shall."

Nathi links her arm with Shodey's, putting on a confident smile for her benefit. "Someone has to keep him hopping," she chuckles.

"Might as well be us," Shodey grins as she leads her sister-in-mind back into the crowd.

* - * - *

Blissfully unaware of the conversation in Devon's head, Sko'loti idly toys with her duty flap in her fingers, thinking. This is simply too much to pass up... I could not possibly be so lucky. "If this is an informal occasion," she says suddenly, slowly, "then it would probably be best if I left off with the formal uniform. It also gives me the chance to become acquainted with my surroundings... if this is so, sir," she addresses Devon directly, "could I be directed to my quarters? I assure you I will get back to the party in time for any... escapes."

Treznor smiles at Hucy. "The main event is in forty minutes. Don't linger in the bath." He gestures for another aide to attend them. "This lady will show you to your suite for the evening. Watch out for the low ceilings. Most people consider ten feet to be a good height, but you'll probably bump the light fixtures."

The diplomatic officer nods, bowing shortly. "Thank you for everything, sir. I will be sure to be on time." Following the aide, she makes sure to get a good feel for the layout and how things are being set up outside, a huntress' planning. The planning is halted abruptly as she almost cheeks into a door, but a quick duck and a little more situational awareness later, she continues thinking to herself.

Kraah places his barrel on the ground, and dons a headset. ".....now let's try some 10khz samples. Low to high."

The engineer plays some sound samples. "A bit heavy on the bass. Reduce that until I say..........good. Right there. Treble up ..... good. Now 100 khz. YOW!" He yanks the headset off, and glares at the engineer.

"You had to do that at high volume, yes?" The engineer looks abashed, and fiddles with some controls. "Now try it, sir."

Kraah replaces the headset, and listens for a moment. "Disable the subsonic frequency. It'll disturb some of the guests. Good. Everything else sounds fine, but you're getting slight feedback on stand 3. I suggest that it be moved away from the stacks about 3 feet."

"Yes, sir."

Kraah removes the headset, and works the pump on the barrel again, spraying some of the beer in his mouth. Damn this is good. Be-eeer. Must get some for the return trip. Spying some of the guests peering out the window to see what's going on, he beckons them out in a general 'Come on out' movement of his hand.

Chameleon flashed into view again, leaning on Kraah's barrel.

"You beckoned?"

(( OOC: Really really sorry I haven't posted, since I said Rel-Kitani was coming. Things have been really crazy lately, I'll try and catch up and post tonight! I'm really sorry! ;-; ))

Seeing Chameleon pop up, Kraah was, amazingly enough, slightly surprised. Their chameleon-like ability is known, but rarely used. Suffice it to say, he's seen it before. (OOC: Just the level of control of this ability for standard Sakkrans is much less).

"That's some excellent concealment there. Is it natural, or are you 'chromed' as some like to put it. Anyways, grab a goblet and enjoy some of this nidiculous beverage. We'll make a night of it!"

On the stage, the actors begin doing spot-checks for the lighting technicians, as Kraah oversees from a distance with his other eye.

Seeing Chameleon pop up, Kraah was, amazingly enough, slightly surprised. Their chameleon-like ability is known, but rarely used. Suffice it to say, he's seen it before. (OOC: Just the level of control of this ability for standard Sakkrans is much less).

"That's some excellent concealment there. Is it natural, or are you 'chromed' as some like to put it. Anyways, grab a goblet and enjoy some of this nidiculous beverage. We'll make a night of it!"

On the stage, the actors begin doing spot-checks for the lighting technicians, as Kraah oversees from a distance with his other eye.

"Natural? Well, I guess that depends on your point of view. I'm artificial, but it was built in from the start. Just got an upgrade to remove suspicious phantasmic outlines. But what good is a goblet when one has an entire barrel? Just prop it up and knock off the tap! Unless, of course, you want to share it...."

"Share it, eh? Well, I do have to keep some kind of a head on me. A good buzz is all I need today. Why not share?" With that he releases the barrel, and slides it slightly to Chameleon.

<<EDIT>>

"Share it, eh? Well, I do have to keep some kind of a head on me. A good buzz is all I need today. Why not share?" With that he releases the barrel, and slides it slightly to Chameleon.

"Actually, I was referring to me sharing with you... Party on!"Chameleon swiped up a cup, hefted the barrel under one arm, filled the cup, and dumbed it down his throat all in one smooth motion. Setting the barrel down again, he let out a firey blue belch.

"Ah... nothing like ethylene to warm a guy up."

"Har! I accept your challenge!"

Kraah hoists the barrel and fills his goblet. Containg 2 liters of the delicious brown liquid, he forms his tongue into a funnel and pours the contents of the goblet down it in one smooth motion.

Making more of a hissing sound than a belch, he wipes his mouth. "Delicious!"

Firefury wanders around and spots the drinking contest getting underway, her gaze going slightly distant for a second before she wanders over. "Y'know, guys, if y'want something a wee bit more potent than beer, I brought some sake along. The good stuff, too, not the cheapo run of the mill junk." She winks. "By the way, I don't think we've ever met before, at least not in person."

The orange reploid half-bows to Chameleon and Kraah. "Firefury Amahira, from Reploid Productions."

Kraah stands and gives a flamboyant bow.

"Greetings, Lady Firefury. Advisor Kraah, Empire of Sakkra."

His bow now complete, he licks his 'lips' a bit. "This sake you speak of. I have had it before, and it tastes like warm saliva. Is this the 'poor quality' stuff you speak of?"

Treznor snags a scotch off an attendant's tray and sidles up to Uriel. "Welcome to my home, Seraphim. Metatron told me your name is Uriel. I hope you're enjoying your stay? The main event should be getting under way in about twenty minutes."

Out of the corner of his eye he spies Rene and her aides from Tsaraine. He gestures to them and whistles as he takes in the dress. "Oh my. That's certainly a departure from your usual uniform. I applaud your good taste, Rene. It looks good on her.

"Have you met Uriel? I'm sure you can guess his nationality."

He takes a sip of his scotch and beams at both parties.

Firefury chuckles. "Well, Advisor, I would say probably. Good sake has a nice smooth kick to it. The poor stuff is just... ugh. Though I admit I am poorly schooled in Sakkran culture, I fear." She grins, quite short next to the tall Sakkran. "Something I hear you'll be helping correct tonight, unless the whispers about an opera tonight are purely false, which I doubt, given all that-" She gestures at the stage crew setting up. "-going on."

"Harf! You guess correctly. I managed to get the finest technicians and actors for a bit of an opera. They've been informed about keeping the sub-sonics to a minimum, though. Some sensitive ears around. Ah, yes. It's good to still have a bit of pull in the Empire."

He sits back down, and draws out another draft. "Right now, i'm occupying myself here with a friendly contest while I oversee the arrangements. In about 20 minutes standard time, the curtain will rise."

"Twenty minutes? I'll look forward to it then." The orange reploid chuckles darkly. "Though if what I've heard is right, everyone may be treated to Sakkran opera and some real world drama, depending on when and if Mr. Quil'Raya shows up. I heard he's been invited." She shakes her head. "But enough of that sort of thought." She eyes the pump-keg. "Unless I'm far off my mark, you'd probably be able to drink my entire Wing under the table!"

Sko'loti thanks the aide as she ducks under the door into her room, shutting it softly. Kicking off her boots, she prepares for the hunt while looking into a body-length mirror. Ensuring everything is set, she watches herself extend her claws slightly, shivering in anticipation. It has been a while since any sort of hunt... ah, this brings back the memories.

Slipping out silently, she makes sure the coast is clear as she sticks to the emptier portions of the Palace she noted earlier, quickly escaping to the outside and taking advantage of the landscaping for cover. Sighting where the oxen are being kept, she huddles in a dense patch of long ornamental grass under a series of hedges, hiding in the shade and letting her natural camouflage do its work--which it does, surprisingly well. Her segmented tail flicks back and forth gently as she watches the oxen, licking her jowls.

Patience.

* - * - *

Alshai looks around, then shrugs. Where has that kzinret gotten off to? She's orange and two-thirty centimeters tall, kinda hard to miss. Not letting it bother him overmuch, he watches as Treznor talks to the angel-looking thing. Oh well, it was worth a shot.

Tari beamed at the praise of her unorthodox garb, and Rene scowled, looking as if she'd just swallowed a lemon. Kaiten, as usual, was impassive.

"Actually," Rene told Treznor, "Copilot Telhyazi's garb was entirely her own initiative." Her tone managed to convey the usual Tsarainese disdain for unwanted initiative.

"No," she continued, "I haven't met Mr. Uriel before. You would be from Endless Crimes, am I correct?" she asked the Seraph.

The orange reploid half-bows to Chameleon and Kraah. "Firefury Amahira, from Reploid Productions."

"Pleased to meet you. Now, then, Kraah here may think he's a good drinker, but none can compare to the great Chameleon! Bring on the jet fuel!"

As they moved through the crowd of people, she focused on observing as she usually did, though her mind continued to wander. Her gaze flickered across faces both familiar and new, lingering on the sight of Devon conversing with Rene and the others, smiling softly, her eyes looking a touch misty for a brief moment.

Nathicana helped guide their steps towards the man she'd long admired, yet was still rather shrouded in mystery, to her mind. Firmly pushing thoughts of the recent conversation from her mind, she smiled warmly, reaching out to lay a gentle hand on his arm.

"Alshai," she says quietly. "Is there anything I can get you?"

Hm? Kommetrez turns around with a smile, blinking with slight surprise when he finds out who's addressing him. Oh, no ma'am, I'm fine. I'm one of those who if I need something I'll try to get it for myself without being too much of a bother on others. He chuckles softly, eyes glowing a gentle brown from his too-young looking face.

Anything I can help you with in turn? I see you got impressed into service, and I wouldn't be a proper guest if I didn't at least make the attempt to help.

"Welcome to my home, Seraphim. Metatron told me your name is Uriel. I hope you're enjoying your stay? The main event should be getting under way in about twenty minutes."


Urial stood there, a glass of red wine in his hand, seemingly enjoying... well, the wine. "Oh, definitely... it`s... intriguing to see the world outside...

"No," she continued, "I haven't met Mr. Uriel before. You would be from Endless Crimes, am I correct?"

"Absolutely." Uriel, not exactly one who follows the law in EC (Which he can risk, being from the Seraphim class and minister of intelligence), looks at Rene, hiding his interest. "Rene Seingult, if i`m not mistaken. It´s an honour to meet someone who managed to rescue a nation from a disaster such as yours." He hesitates for a moment, then continues. "Interesting clothing." He looks at Tari, grinning.

"Oh bah," she says, "No need for that. Take your ease, let someone take care of you for a change. That is being a proper guest here today. See," she gestured to the Sakkra, "the setup, thanks to yourself in no small part, is done, and as for me, I've been released from duty to enjoy myself. Thought I'd see how you were doing and all." She pauses for a moment, her hand deliberately moving past the wine glasses to snag a cup of ice water as one of the staff moved past. "Care for anything?" she asks.

Tari smiled somewhat nervously, concious of the Domina's glare.

"Thank you, Uriel," she replied shyly, "It was made by Terin Hsu, the famous designer, in Ekatori."

Beside her, Rene frowned; she'd heard of Terin Hsu, whose designs were regarded as scandalous throughout the Wastes-bordering nations, and the dress did look like one of his creations. More worrying, however, was how Tari had gotten the thing into Tsaraine.

She leaned forward, and hissed softly in Sekhel, "You and I are going to have a little talk about that, Telhyazi." Straightening, she switched back to English, and turned to Uriel.

"I don't believe you've been introduced," she said. "Mr. Uriel, this is Tari Telhyazi, my Copilot, and Kaiten, my bodyguard."

The Rukine Knight saluted, with an inclination of his head that might have been a bow.

"Telhyazi, Kaiten, this is of course Uriel, an envoy from our ally Endless Crimes."

"Pleased to meet you," Tari almost purred, extending her hand for Uriel to shake. Rene's glare could have ionised the air.

Quietly, Rene stepped over to Treznor.

"I brought her along to carry the crate," she said quietly. "Regulations say the captain has to stay with his vessel, you see. Clearly, that was a mistake."

"Care for anything?" she asks.
Nope, still quite content. Alshai shrugs, looks like he's about to say a bit more, then changes his mind. How are things going with you as of late? All I've been able to see is a bunch of IntRelate docs and Our Mainframe data, which dwindles in total awareness... which, if I may say so, isn't a bad idea. He winks. It's never good to stay overly dependent on others, even if they are Us.

He frowns for a moment, then chuckles. Goodness. You're trying to keep Us from keeping an eye on you--rightfully so, I think--and here I am constantly switching from first singular to first plural in the way We are so accustomed. He sighs wryly. It's going to take some getting used to, being a diplomat like this. I'm used to only speaking my own mind, not everyone else's as well.

Listening to Tari, Uriel smiles. What an innocent, cute child...

"Mhm... never heard of him... but i admit, our relations to nations outside The reich encompass only NDA members, so it`s not exactly to be expected..."

While he doesn`t understand Sekhel, Uriel is perfectly able to read body language. Thusly, he chuckles slightly, listening to Rene`s 'advise'.

However, when (finally) introduced, he bows to Tari, taking her hand, kissing it gently. "It`s an honour." For a moment, he looks at Rene, amusement in his eyes. "It must be a great responsibility, being the Co- pilot of your leader. To be honest, you don`t look like it... which makes it all the more pleasent." He smiles at Tari, his mind racing.

Tari giggled, somewhat nervously. After all, she'd never spoken to an angel before.

"Oh no," she told him, careful not to be quiet enough not to let Rene hear, "I'm not the Domina's co-pilot; she doesn't fly anywhere herself, although she used to be a space pilot. I'm just the co-pilot to Pilot-Commandant RalVanra, who had to stay with the spaceplane. I came along to carry the crate of meringues."

Uriel was still holding her hand, she noticed.

"I didn't think I'd get to stay," she added, "I'm glad I could."

Quietly, Rene stepped over to Treznor.

"I brought her along to carry the crate," she said quietly. "Regulations say the captain has to stay with his vessel, you see. Clearly, that was a mistake."
Treznor pauses admiring Tari long enough to grin and wink at Rene. "Oh, I don't know Domina. I think she'll go a long way toward improving relations between nations. You might consider giving her a new job in Public Relations. Just a suggestion, mind you.

"Incidentally, you're both invited to a demonstration of our latest electromagnetic drive prototype. We're tying it in with new technology from Zero-One for intertial compensation. Don't ask me to explain how it works; I couldn't tell you."

"I think when I get back to Tsaraine, the only job she'll be doing is mantaining the recycling pods," Rene growled. "Fate be merciful, let her not ruin our relations with Endless Crimes..."

The words "SHODAN" and "inertial compensation" hit her brain, sparking a query in her DNI;

>> Open related files?

<< Negative, she told it; there were no Tsarainese databanks nearby to carry that data.

"Inertial compensation?" she asked Treznor, highly interested. Lack of such was currently limiting Tsarainese antimagnetic drives to at most a tenth of their total speed, to avoid smearing the crews into a bloody paste.

"What do you want for it?", she asked, in typically direct Tsarainese fashion.

Treznor's eyes narrow slightly as he redirects his full attention toward his ally. "Domina," he says quietly. "Don't think I'm attempting to tell you how to run your nation, but you may note that Uriel isn't your garden variety citizen of Endless Crimes. The wine in his hand should tell you that. You could have worse friends in that nation, and he looks like he's enjoying making friends with Tari. Something to think about.

"As for the compensators, I don't know. I haven't had the chance to look over the reports on their effectiveness, and I don't know what you have to offer that might interest me. Why don't you attend the demonstration, then make me an offer?"

"I'll do that," Rene replied, "Indeed I shall. But consider this - how do you think the "common garden variety" of Endless Crimes citizen would react to the knowledge that a Tsaraine citizen had corrupted one of their ambassadors? How would Metatron react?

"If the girl is silly enough to do anything with Uriel, there is the very real possibility that it may cause cracks between Tsaraine and Endless Crimes ... and possibly the NDA. Neither of us wants that, I think."

Treznor shrugs eloquently. "Good question. Here's another: why should they find out? And what makes you think she is going to corrupt him? The way I read his body language, Metatron isn't going to know any more than Uriel wants him to know. We're among friends, Domina. If Metatron wants to take issue with something that happens during the feast, the responsibility is mine. I think we've all had enough experience with diplomacy and compromise to make sure the stability of the alliance remains secure.

"Now, should I save a seat for you at that demonstration?"

"Point taken," Rene replied. "I shall rely upon Uriel's discretion, then. And a seat at your demonstration would be most appreciated.

"Now, I believe that the Sakkrach have some kind of demonstration of their own for us?"

Trust Uriel ... Sweet Fate, it makes sense, but my instincts say I'm crazy. Mind over matter, Rene. Mind over matter.

"Oh no," she told him, careful not to be quiet enough not to let Rene hear, "I'm not the Domina's co-pilot; she doesn't fly anywhere herself, although she used to be a space pilot. I'm just the co-pilot to Pilot-Commandant RalVanra, who had to stay with the spaceplane. I came along to carry the crate of meringues."

"Oh." Uriel looks surprised. "Well, cultural difference, i presume. We tend to fly all by ourselves..." He notices a curious look by Tari. "Erm... No, not with the wings. They`re mainly decoration. Mainly."

"I didn't think I'd get to stay," she added, "I'm glad I could."

Not as glad as me, believe me." He smiles. For a short moment, he ponders releasing her hand, but then, he decides otherwise. I wonder if it`s considered 'appropriate'... Ah, screw them.

"I wonder... such a beautiful young lady as you are... interested in a little dance?" He doesn`t wait for an answer, though, and just leads her to it. Gently touching her waist, he grins. "I wonder what Rene thinks of it. She doesn`t look too pleased." he says, throwing a short look after Rene and Devon, a (thin) grin of amusement in his face. "Well, as long as the two of us are pleased..."

Treznor places his empty scotch glass on a waiting tray. "Yes, Advisor Kraah decided to surprise me with an opera. We should really start assembling on the back lawn."

He hops nimbly up on an oak table and stamps his foot for attention, temporarily distracting folk from the oddly dancing pair below. "Ladies and gentlemen, the festivities should begin in about ten minutes. If everyone would be so kind as to file out the back, we can start getting seated. I'll begin with the first sacrifice of oxen, then the Sakkra will entertain us with an opera. Alec, wave your hand again. Good man. Follow Alec, and he'll lead you to the Feasting tables. Thank you."

<><><>

Tari stiffened, blushing.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I can't dance. They don't teach it to pilots." Or anyone else, for that matter.

<><><>

Rene peered suspiciously at Tari. "What's she doing? Oh, she's dancing. I didn't think she could."

Once Treznor had stepped back down from the table, she asked him "Sacrifice of oxen? Is this a religious event, then?"

Treznor nods as he straightens out his tuxedo. "It used to be, anyway. Nowadays the sacrifice is usually done by the butchers and folk just take home the meat and barbeque it to taste. But given the momentous occasion and the calibre of guests at the party, I decided to pull out all the stops. Having the Sakkra show up put a bit of a kink in my plans, but I think I've got it covered. They'll just have to wait until they finish their performance before they get to eat."

He starts to head for the back, then pauses and turns thoughtfully. "I'll give you fair warning now: if you aren't inclined to drink fresh animal blood, you don't have to. By the time it reaches you it'll have been filtered and cured of any nasty diseases or parasites, but some people don't like the thought of it regardless."

"I'm sorry," she said, "I can't dance. They don't teach it to pilots." Or anyone else, for that matter.


"Oh, that`s a shame, such beautiful woman should learn it. But i see, you learn quickly..." Admiring Tari`s shape, as well as her, well, a bit clumsy, but nonetheless nice movements, he leads her, not caring for the rather... strange looks from the other guests. They don´t seem to know how to amuse themselves...

However, the end comes soon enough, with Treznors announcement.
"Well, it looks like it`s over all to soon... If you would honour me?" He gently takes her hand, and together, they walk to the feasting tables. "Animal blood... odd."

"I can manage," Rene replied, while thinking, Urk. "I imagine that can't have been the healthiest custom, before modern purifying techniques were invented," she said. "HIV and so on. The First Dominion apparently had similar problems with a disease named krast - people used to give blood for Ruki. Of course, that all stopped with the founding of the Commonwealth."

<><><>

"Yuk!" Tari exclaimed, "He wants us to drink blood? Out of some dirty animal? That's disgusting!"

She did, however, have enough sense to keep her voice quiet enough not to carry to the other guests (The Domina should be grateful for that, she thought), so as not to cause a diplomatic incident.

Uriel chuckled. "Well, at least they filter it. And after all, it`s a tradition. Who are we to defy whats important for them?"

He offered Tari a chair, still being 100% gentleman. Perhaps a bit too much of it, thoguh. "Mylady." Then he himself sat down, which wasn´t without problems, since the wings had the nasty habit of interfering with the chair´s back. But finally, he somehow managed it.

"Well, now for the blood... but i admit, it would have been nice to use a substitute... like red wine, for example." He chuckled, while whispering to Tari.

"I suppose so..." Tari whispered back, "I'll believe you, I'm not a diplomat."

She looked up at the stage, where a few Sakkrans were running about making last-minute adjustments.

"It seems odd," she whispered to Uriel, "The Sakkrach having opera, I mean. They don't look like an operatic species."

"I suppose so..." Tari whispered back, "I'll believe you, I'm not a diplomat."


"Which is a shame, really. You would be perfect for it. Well, perhaps a little bit more self- confidence..." Uriel looked at her... It was a rather strange look, mixed admiration and earnestness.


"It seems odd," she whispered to Uriel, "The Sakkrach having opera, I mean. They don't look like an operatic species."

"Huh? Why? Well, i admit, they do look odd, a bit like hellish creatures, but... well, it`s just the surface, not whats inside of them."

Which is their unholiness, their pact with the devil. He thought to himself, but wisely keeping his mouth shut.

"If there is less to see in reports, I'm certain it's only on account of there being so little of note going on in the Dominion," she says with a smile. "Though I couldn't agree with you more - self sufficiency is always a desireable quality to have. It is good to have friends and allies. It is also good to be able to stand strong on one's own credits."

"There was something you were going to say?" she asks, her demeanor casual, though her eyes are sharp, even with the earlier wine. "I don't mean to pry, of course, it's just that you seem ... uncomfortable at times with this duality, for lack of a better word. Can you not turn it off?"

"You really think so?" Tari brightened, smiling at the seraph. "I suppose you're right. About the Sakkrach, too."

Her hand slipped over to meet Uriel's.

Seeing the crowd beginning to assemble, Kraah decides that his responsibilities no longer begin and end at the barrel. Standing up, he places the barrel down. "I ask your indulgence, friends, as I must do a last minute spot check on the players and the stage." He bows slightly, and walks toward the stage area.

Good, good. Everything is fastened and appears sturdy. He whaps the support structure for emphasis. The players are assembled off-stage going over last-minute details with the scripts, and preparing themselves. Kraah signals one of the stagehands, and the three-layered velvet curtain drops.

Kraah pays attention to one final detail; the translation transmitter. Since the opera would be in native Dossk, the Sakkran home-tongue, it was decided having translating emitters would be a wise idea. After all, there was no sense having an opera no one had a chance of understanding, was there. Ear buds would be distributed so that everyone would be able to hear what was being sung in any language of their choice, from Swahili to Ancient Latin.

Firefury overhears through the crowd about the particulars of the feast. Blood? Yuck. Oh well, I have to pass anyway, since reploids don't eat.

Having grown bored of watching Kraah and Chameleon try to drink eachother under the table, she had excused herself shortly before the announcement of the opera. As everyone congregates out back, the orange reploid hurries to find herself a good seat, raising an eyebrow when she spots Tari and Uriel sitting together, both with the sorts of expressions she had seen many times on the faces of people. Who'd've thought a seraph would get all moonstruck by a Tsarainese chick? Geez, you'd think they thought nobody could see 'em makin' eyes at eachother. Should be interesting, to say the least. Her attention moving on quickly, the orange reploid lays claim to an aisle seat so that she could easily get up to let other people into the row without anyone tripping on her large metalic feet.

"There was something you were going to say?" she asks, her demeanor casual, though her eyes are sharp, even with the earlier wine. "I don't mean to pry, of course, it's just that you seem ... uncomfortable at times with this duality, for lack of a better word. Can you not turn it off?"
No... it's part of my being now. Alshai shrugs. It's definitely... odd to get used to. I, like the rest of Us, am at the same time an independent intelligence and a representative of Our gestalt-mind formed by the interaction of independent intelligences in the Mainframe. Still, he admits, I am the odd one out, basically being an outsider accepted into the fold. It gives me an interesting outlook, because I don't often agree with Us, especially concerning the Archailect. The word isn't said with the same quiet veneration that most Angelans intone it with... it's simply stated as an idea.

'Course, I can't quite figure out whether my differences of opinion are honest, a rebellion, or just me being stubborn. I'm still not comfortable with the whole floating thing; I have to imagine it to me a suit jump on thrusters if I don't want to overthink it. Same with the applied gravs to lift things... I have to pretend I'm using invisible waldoes. I honestly prefer walking around and actually picking things up with my hands... which makes me a sort of curiosity to Us.

Chameleon, no longer having a challenger, attempted to go invisible again, only to discover that this was impossible- the thin blue glow of buring ethylene gave him away.

Ah, well... I suppoise now I can pretend to be a specter. That'll really freak the more superstitious guests.

Treznor mounts the stage that's been erected for the sacrifice and checks that everything is in place. His eyes sweep the audience and notes a distinct lack of fur.

That's funny. I thought she was looking forward to this. Oh well.

He adjusts the microphone briefly and switches it on. "Ladies and Gentlemen, members of the Non-Democratic Alliance and the Triumvirate of Yut, honoured guests. Tonight we celebrate an ancient ritual passed down from days before the Empire, before the corrupt Republic that proceeded us, before even the many tribe-kingdoms that settled this land. Many cultures have ceremonies to herald the changing of seasons, especially those to encourage the return of spring. Tonight we engage in the Bloodfeast.

"The Bloodfeast is a celebration of life performed by the consumption of meat. In modern days the Bloodfeast has become more of a symbol, a sanitised version of its more primitive incarnation. Tonight I invite those of you willing to engage in a little adventure by harkening back to those ancient festivals and partaking of ancient wisdom. Let us sacrifice a portion of our livestock to spark the return of spring and new life."

He picks up a large knife and turns to his left where attendants stand waiting with a large ox. He approaches the ox slowly, raising the knife dramatically over his head, then brings it down swiftly across the animal's neck. The blade digs deeper than would be expected, and blood spurts out in great gouts. Some of it splatters on the attendants and some on Treznor's good tuxedo, but most of it drains into an ornate metallic bowl waiting underneath. The ox bellows and struggles mightily, testing the limits of the men who surround it. Treznor himself steps up to grasp the ox by its horns and helps to restrain it until it collapses to the ground.

At last Treznor picks up the bowl and raises it over his head. Without the benefit of the PA system, he shouts to make himself heard. "We thank the spirit of this ox for the sacrifice of his life, that ours may continue and prosper. We petition the gods to accept our burnt offering and bless us with light and warmth. We honour what is given us and give thanks."

Then he lifts the great bowl to his lips and drinks deeply, blood spilling over his cheeks. After a few swallows he lowers the bowl and hands it to a young woman who rushes offstage with it. "Let this bounty pass to all who seek blessing and fruitfulness in the coming year."

The dead ox is placed on a massive barbecue pit which is set alight. A few moments later, bowls of blood properly sanitised and filtered are passed through the crowd. Attendants constantly reassure the guests that no, they don't have to participate. Would some red wine suffice, instead? The Sakkran acting troupe is meanwhile invited to begin their opera while the next ox is prepared for slaughter.

Alshai blinks. Wow. That's pretty hardcore.

From her vantage point far from the crowd but near the oxen, Sko'loti-Hucy allows herself a soft growl of approval. An interesting tradition, and he honors it well. Her stomach rumbles softly, but she doesn't shift her position. I knew there was a reason I abstained from breakfast this morning.

Kraah bows slightly to Devon from off-stage. He then parts the curtain and steps forward.

"Gentle-beings. In our culture, for many, many generations love was an abstract concept regarded as inefficient and a tertiary concern. Marriage was more a contractual obligation, and mating was solely for the continuation of the species. In this story, two young peoples just passing into adult-hood find that, to them, this concept does not hold. And so, without further ado, let us begin."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------

The curtain rises, and the scene looks to be one of a room lit by a fireplace. the musicians begin playing a low and somber tune. A young male is sitting upon a large ottoman wearing a purple silk cloak with a blue tunic and waist wrap underneath, also of silk. He seems to be looking at a large etching in his hands in thought.

He stands and approaches the stage, then turns facing stage left, that the audience could see what is on the etching. It is a portrait of an elderly Sakkran female, in ceremonial military dress.

The actor, who plays the lead role of Jouugh, begins singing in a deep, rich bass. It sounds almost like an extended hiss of varying pitches, with rumblings interspersed. As the translators kick in, the hissing and rumbling translates into song. The gist of which is that the etching is of his grand-sire, who is on her death-bed. Her accomplishments in the Civil Conflict have brought his line great honor, and now he feels compelled to betray all that for his emotions concerning an infertile female, who is an artisan. Subsonic frequencies are used in his song, and the more hearing-sensitive may or may not find it disturbing.

The lights fade out on him, and fade in on the other side of the stage. A young female named Ssaooh, also just reaching adulthood, sits in her chamber. She is creating an ornate head-dress out of silver by fire light. As she works with her clamps, she begins her song, detailing her wishes to follow custom and tradition, but feels compelled to go against all that.

She stands, and approaches the edge of her lit area. A song of torn feelings rumbles out long and low from her throat. The young male also approaches the edge of his lit area, and his song details being torn between doing what's right for his people against what's right for him.

OOC: These are going to be in several different posts. I'm not much of an opera writer, or even an opera devotee. I'll do what I can though.

"You really think so?" Tari brightened, smiling at the seraph. "I suppose you're right. About the Sakkrach, too."
Feeling Tari`s hand, he takes it, gentle, but firm. Smiling at her, for the moment ignoring just about every law his own nation has, he... fondles her hand. "Of course i think so..." He hesitates, looking at her, for a short moment catching Firefury`s... irritated? look. For a moment he chuckles, silently. But he quickly turns back to Tari. "How could i lie, facing such... wonderful eyes?" Of course, it`s rhetorical question.

When the bloodfeast begins, Uriel watches with... well, some sort of morbid interest, not in the least offended or shocked. As if... yes, as if such things were rather common for him.

Politely, he refuses to take red wine instead of the blood. "The lady, perhaps?" He looks at Tari. But for himself, he takes it as a matter of pride to follow the ritual as closely as possible, and drinks the blood... carefully enough to prevent any distateful red stains on his face or clothes, though.

Following this, the opera begins. One has to admit, it´s interesting... an interesting society... comparable to ours... perhaps they ain´t as evil as i thought... But then, they seem to glorify this two who... yes, who betray their people. Strange...

"Interesting, the Sakkra... i hope you enjoy it as much as i do, my... dear?" He asks Tari.

<><><>

Less firm of stomach than Uriel, Tari accepted the red wine from the attendant. I don't know how he can drink that stuff. Still, he is quite handsome...

She watched the shifting muscles of his wings as he lowered the bowl, and imagined the movement of other muscles, hidden by his coat.

"It's very interesting," she replied, somewhat dishonestly; she wasn't paying much attention to the opera. He called me "dear"!

<><><>

Some distance away, Rene raised the bowl of blood to her lips, and drank. The blood was hot, salty, slightly coppery; if one ignored where it came from, what it was, it wasn't too bad.

The things people do for religion, she thought, and watched the Sakkran opera. Interesting concept... I do not think I shall import it to Tsaraine, though. The conflict between duty and chaos should have only one victor.

Firefury turns her attention to the performance. Very intrigueing... good thing Tsume didn't come, that subsonic stuff would probably bother his really oversensitive hearing. As the subject comes up in the performance of duty versus desire, she can't help but crack a wry grin. Desire, or rather free will, chaos incarnate. Ah, without chaos to periodically shake the old order up, the world would have gone stale a long time ago. How boring would that be?

When the attendant reaches her, she politely declines both the blood and the wine with a half-apologetic grin and a short whisper that reploids can't ingest food or drink, and returns her attention to the performance. It is nice to unwind, even if it is at a 'stuffy diplomatic party'. She msues with a silent chuckle.

Taking on a more respectful mood, Chameleons blue outline stood quietly for the sacrifice.

As the opera started, Aidean felt someone take hold of his wrists. "Hello."
"Please identify yourself."
The as-yet unknown person raised his hands to feel her face.
"Ah. Neasa. A wondered when you would arrive."
"I've been here all along, my good fraternal unit. Just good at blending in."

No... it's part of my being now. Alshai shrugs. <clip>

"To never be alone in your thoughts," she says half to herself, clearly thinking some things over. Shaking her head slightly as if to clear it, she smiles. "I have to admit, it's good to see that while the experience changed you, it didn't change you ... if you know what I mean. I'm glad you came back. I know for damn sure there's a lot of others who are too," she says, thinking back to Razak again. The old cuss ... need to look in on him sometime. It's been a while.

"From what little I've seen, I'd tend to think the former - honest differences. You Scolopendrans are notoriously down to earth and practical, my dear. Something, in truth, I've often found to be a comfort. As for the preference for doing things for yourself, while that also seems to be a national trait, I can't argue it. There's always a certain satisfaction at doing things for oneself. Truth, I'd quit your fussing over it, and just go with it. It seems to work well. You're still as you as you ever were, after all," she says, pausing and giving him a sly wink, "just with some bitchin' upgrades."

Seeing Devon prepping for his presentation, she suggests they all get settled in. She sits quietly, watching his presentation, though as he continues, a definite warmth grows in her eyes. Pride? Quite possibly ... something more? Most definitely. She feels her pulse quicken, her cheeks flush as she watches him perform the sacrifice. Barbaric ... entirely ... maledizione del dio, amo quell'uomo. She licks her lips almost absently watching him help restrain the great beast, running her fingertip along the rim of her glass, slowly. A shiver that has nothing to do with disgust runs through her as she watches him drink, and she blinks, seemingly a bit surprised at her reaction.

"Come lo dite, in modo da lasci essere," she murmurs in response to his wish for bounty, acknowledging and agreeing, her distant upbrigning making her flinch slightly with a quick thought of 'blasphemy'. Again, a surprise.

As the cups are passed, she pauses, faced with a choice. One that goes slightly deeper than the casual observer might think.

I've already had far too much of the wine today, dammit, and now knowing the consequences ... vafancuolo. And damned if I'll let him show me up, regardless ... but oxblood? Oi, Dev, of all the crazy traditions to have, I swear ... appearances - good or bad if I ...

The internal musings continuing, she accepts a glass without the slightest outward sign of discomfort or hesitation. Nathicana drains the glass with what could only be termed as a wicked smile, setting it aside, then delicately dabbing at her lips with a napkin.

Dread Lady in name and in deed. Can't wait for reports on this little escapade to get out. Next they'll be saying I bathe in the blood of my enemies and sacrifice small children to the Dark One in order to maintain my seat of power, she thinks, supressing a shudder. Ugh, that was disgusting!

<LOS Communications-Devon>
{
<< Oh, I'll get you for that one, you son of a bitch. [laugh analog] If I hurl, it's on your head.
}

As Kraah makes his introduction however, she sits forward a bit, letting other concerns go to the wayside - and making a request to a passing attendant that a pitcher of ice water and a glass be brought.

Dominion culture is a rich one, and operas, something to savor. Unsurprisingly, Nathicana does so with clear enjoyment. The plot resonnates with her on several levels, and she finds herself dabbing at the occasional tear as she watches the story unfold.

Alshai nods quietly, leaving Nathi to her own thoughts. The ritual is impressive but not disquieting; he's seen stranger things. Never being too much for opera, he tries to enjoy the experience through the emotions displayed and the actions; the overall plot, assisted by Mainframe translation, doesn't affect him too much.

Sure, for a while it was what he wanted versus what the state needed, but that had been decided long ago in preference for the state. Romance never was much of an issue and he only decided to do 'what he wanted' when it became necessary to adapt and survive. Which, quite frankly, made him ex-human as he is now.

So, while trying to enjoy the story on its own rewards, he finds himself grumbling about how the protagonists should 'just make a decision and get over it' more often than he'd care to admit.

Kraah watches from off-stage, directing the lighting crew, and signaling the sound techs when something sounds a bit off. When intermission comes, I will take part in this ritual.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------

The scene switches as the curtain drops for a few seconds, When it rises again, the scene is now that of a hospital room. The matriarch of Joough's family, on her deathbed, is surrounded by medical staff and family. Joough is there, at her side. She beckons him closer.

Her song is sung almost in a whisper, yet clear as day. "My boy, there are whispers about you and this young girl. She is infertile, and custom doesn't allow this. Untouchable is my official decree. Remain apart for
your family's honor."

Now her song takes on a conspiratal tone. "But she brings you joy; I can see it in your eyes, and it is a rare thing in these times. Be discreet with her, boy. For if you're discovered, you both may die in a pen. Now go, all of you. I need rest."

The lights fade until only Jouugh is visible. Now he sings of hidden rendezvous and concealed wishes. With the Civil Conflict happening, will there be time for these? He'll make time if he has to go without sleeping.

Several scenes show him as he rises in power in the militia. The matriarch has since passed on. Joough's sire and hatchmates were killed in several battles, leaving him the patriarch. Meanwhile, he continued seeing Ssaooh in discreet trysts. She had begun attending private lessons in hopes of becoming a master of jewelery making, and goes without sleeping or eating sometimes to make up for time she spends with Joough.

Time passes, and Jouugh has grown into full adult-hood. The family begins pressuring him to take a mate. Several females come, and dance for him, but he wants nothing to do with them. His C.O. , Hhwaar hears of this, and becomes suspicious.

He follows Joough while off-duty, and spies him and the infertile Ssaooh having a rendezvous by a river in the Black Swamp. He does not confront Jouugh right away, but decides to bide his time until this knowledge will be of use to him.

As Hhwaar is slinking away, the curtain drops and intermission is called.

Treznor works as the play progresses, slaughtering oxen and tossing their bodies on the pit once the blood has been sufficiently drained. Word has reached him that the extra herd has been delayed further, and he issues sharp orders promising a slow death if they haven't arrived by the time the Sakkra play has ended. Half of his attention is devoted to the music, which he finds he quite likes. Probably my Dominion influences. I bet Nath is totally engrossed in it.

<LOS Communications - Nathicana>
{
<< Not my fault. Just because I've gone with wine every year before doesn't mean that sooner or later I wasn't going to have to do this. How better to build morale than to honour one of the citizens' favourite holidays? The things I do for my Empire.

<< [sigh analog] I shoulda worn a raincoat.
}

He realises that he's been distracted by his nonvocal communications as well as the play, and nods sharply to the waiting attendant. A moment later, he realises his mistake. He just signalled for the "accidental escape" of the next oxen.

Sho isn't out there to Hunt it!

Unfortunately, he's too late. The ox miraculously breaks from from her handlers as a cattle prod is applied to her hind quarters, and she instinctly lashes out and bolts.

"Look out!" he shouts, throwing himself out of the way and spilling a bowl of blood waiting to be processed. His only comfort is that his people arranged for the animal to run away from the crowd. "Dammit. Outsmarted myself."

There!

As quick as thought, the kzinret's coiled legs propel her forward, exploding from the bushes and landing once on her spread hands to push forward further with her strong arms, giving her enough moment to attain an upright stance as she sprints for the ox. The poor beast, seeing the orange monstrocity running for him, bends off to the side in a poor attempt to evade, its inertia working against it.

Her segmented tail whipping behind her as she runs, the striped pattern of her naked furred body blurring with the motion, she catches up to the ox and throws herself forward and to the side with a roar. She sinks her sharp fangs into the base of the beast's skull, her arms wrapping around the head and sinking her three-centimeter claws into flesh as she slings herself lithely over the prey's back and under it's chin, the torque of her two-thirty centimeter body twisting the neck past the breaking point.

Snap and a clean kill. The ox immediately trips over it's own feet then is knocked to the side as Sko'loti-Hucy flings her feet into the beast's side, knocking it down and holding on tight, riding it as it skids to a halt. Kneeling over her fallen prey, the kzinret takes advantage of the situation and tears a strip of meat from its neck, devouring the first bites greedily as her claws begin to tear more from the fallen carcass.

Her hunger quickly sated, she nibbles a bit more at the beast, lapping up the fresh blood and looking remarkably content. Eventually desanguinating the ox enough to make it feasible to carry without getting overly dirty, she haunches down as she takes up the carcass' two front legs, throwing them over her shoulders and standing up, grunting slightly with the weight. She walks, meat over her back, its rear hooves dragging along the ground, back to the pen, smiling through bloody muzzle and fur.

Alshai turns around and shakes his head. You can take the tiger out of the jungle...

Firefury arms her cannon at the first sounds of commotion, but quickly disengages it when she spots the orange blur of the kzinret crash into the fleeing oxen- how convenient that it bolted away from the audience and stage- and makes an... interesting face... as the hunt reaches its inevitable conclusion. Note to self, never, EVER piss off one of those guys... geez, and here I'd thought a torqued off Dragonis model was vicious!

<LOS Communications-Devon>
{
<< Mi amore, when will you learn? It is always the man's fault. The things you do for your Empire? Ha! The things I do for you! [laugh analog}
}

She continues to watch the play, enthralled. When the end scene comes from the second act, she mutters darkly to herself, watching the commander sneak away. "Il bastardi," she says quietly, dabbing delicately at her cheeks to catch any stray tears. Oi, I swear ... such public displays of emotion.

The next chain of events however, elicits a more vehement response.

As the ox breaks loose, she quickly rises to her feet, one hand muffling a little shriek as Devon goes tumbling.

{
<< Dev! Ohmygodareyouok?
}

Swearing under her breath in a decidedly unladylike manner, she rushes, as fast as her somewhat restrictive dress allows, to his side.

Which is when a blur of orange catches her eye.

"Sante Maria madre del dio," she breathes, seeing the sleek lethality of the kill, at once admiring and a little shocked at the display. "I will never cease to be amazed at the way they can take down a kill ..." She shivers a little, thinking back to the safari. They're not built that way for nothing, after all.

Blinking, shaking her head slightly, she carefully bends to help Devon up, her nose wrinkling somewhat at the rather deplorable state of his tux, careful to soil her hands as little as possible.

"Damn lucky she was here, boy. What the hell were you thinking, hmm? You've had your show, now let your crew take care of it, if they can be trusted with the task," she gives those attendants who let the ox slip free a rather icy glare, "and get yourself cleaned up a bit."

Sko'loti-Hucy brings the carcass back to the pen and, bowing to an attendant with an odd smile on her bloody lips, shrugs it off her shoulders to fall on the grass with a muffled thud. Kneeling down, she flicks out her claws with a little flair of her fingers and wrist then cuts a long strip of meat from the ox's haunch. Retracting her claws as she pulls it from the bone, she waves to Dev with a smile as she stands and turns back to the crowd, trying to find a seat for the opera somewhere where she isn't going to be too distracting.

Given the facts that the only uniform she's wearing is the one she was born with, that she's nibbling on a bit of fresh raw beef still dripping with blood, and that she just took down a few hundred kilos of meet in plain view of everyone, "too distracting" is practically a given. She sits next to Alshai instead, crossing her legs, getting comfortable, and occasionally nibbling on her snack.

Alshai chuckles and shakes his head. I see you decided to go without the uniform.

"Class A's are not appropriate for hunting, sir." She smiles, then takes another nibble off her slab o' ox. "They are also rather... restrictive." She grumble-purrs contentedly, then offers the slab to Alshai out of politeness and possibly a little mischief.

Kommetrez lasers off a piece and pops it in his mouth with a smile. Thank you. If the kzinret is surprised, she hides it expertly with a soft rumbling chuckle. "Hrr hrr... my pleasure, sir." Her tail flicks about in a jovial manner, that strangely content look simply refusing to leave her face.

After recieving clearance to land Carlos' private jet sets down, it's sleek black surfaces glinting proudly in the lights. Rolling to a stop the plane opens it's door and accepts the stairs being rolled to it. Stepping out first is a Special Iraqstani Guard, his eyes scanning the surroundings and his hand resting on a plainly holstered sub machine gun.

Nodding over his shoulder the guard walks down the stairs and waits at the base of them as behind him Carlos and another eleven guards descend and fan out around the führer. Smiling innocently Carlos looks about and hmms wondering if and when his official greeting party will arive. "We'll give 'em five minutes then we call Devon himself." He mutters and looks about with a rueful grin on his face.

Treznor stands with Nathicana's help and brushes himself off. "I'm all right, really."

<LOS Communications - Nathicana>
{
<< No worries. This was actually planned. It's just that I thought Sho was going to let me know when she was ready. I'm afraid I rather underestimated her. I just forgot to tell my people that we weren't going to engineer an escape after all. I suppose it worked out well, in the end.
}

Suddenly he cocks his head as a report comes through. He holds his hand to his ear. "He did? Who's on site? No good; make sure someone greets him, but you escort him yourself. Yes, I know, but he's not a terribly popular person right now, and I want you to see to security personally. Make sure everyone keeps a special eye on him; I have no idea if we're going to have to break up a fight tonight. Get going."

He sighs and shrugs off his jacket for the second time this evening. "Sorry about that. Carlos just hit town a few minutes ago. I'm assigning Ben to his security detail. Things are about to get a lot more interesting."

He rolls up his sleeves and prepares to mount the stage again. "Back to the grind! You might want to take your seat, Red. It looks like the second act is about to begin." He kisses her carefully on the cheek, making sure not to smear her with any blood before he gets back to work.

Watching as a Treznorian official bustles towards his group Carlos smothers the urge to shoot one of his guards the slowness in their response to a possible threat. "Snap it up soldiers this man could of killed me and you'd all be off playing tiddly wanks with yourselves." He shouts before bowing respectfully to the official.

"I believe you recieved my invitation. I must apologise for my lateness, we've had some troubles with local air traffic of late. Had to sneak out without being seen." Giving the official a wink Carlos straightens up and looks about. "Would I be able to change clothes and get a drink before attending this party good sir?"

Firefury tips her head to one side, a frown briefly passing across her face as a message comes over her internal comm from her Wing.

>> Hey, Queenie, better put that leash on yer temper. We're kicking back on board the Queen's Wing and just spotted Mr. Quil'Raya's jet touch down.>>

<<Thanks for the heads up. Don't worry, I won't start anything.<<

>>Yeah, but if he does, you'll finish it, right?>>

<<He's unstable, certainly, but I won't be the one to resort to drastic measures. I doubt he'd be fool enough to show up with a plasma rifle or something and try to take me out. Certainly not with Devon and Nathicana present. He'd lose what support he has if he does something excessively stupid tonight.<<

>> ... And what if somebody else does? Carlos ain't very popular- I wouldn't doubt there are people skulking about who might try to take him out. What then? That would come back around on you, because the Shogunate has the biggest beef with Iraqstan right now.>>

<<If any damnable fool tries anything like that, the bastard will live if I have to defend him myself. I'll not stand for such dishonorable measures. I fight my own battles, without resorting to such cowardly tactics.<<

>>Whoa, cool yer jets Queenie. Anyhow, just thought I'd letcha know.>>

Internal chatter over, the orange reploid returns her attention to the performance, her expression going from a deep scowl to an icy neutrality. Bring it on, Carlos Quil'Raya. Bring it.

The musicians begin playing, and the curtain rises. Offstage, the surrounding sound of a melee battle are heard. The scene is at a fortified wall, with Joough wearing a captain's military dress. Attackers are scaling the side of the wall, and are dispatched before they can surmount the wall. A low, deep horn is sounded, and the attackers retreat and run off stage.

A cheer erupts from the defenders, and Joough sings the praises of the fighting men. Commander Hhwaar is off-center glaring, and turns and walks offstage. A short time later, a messenger gives Joough a letter for Joough to meet with the commander in his office.

The curtain drops, and the scene switches to an interior scene. The commander is sat behind a large desk. Joough enters the scene, and the commander bids him to sit. After Joough takes a seat, the commander begins, speaking in a sly tone.

"So, Captain Joough. Your rallying of the men has won the day. Your vigor and charisma has turned the tide in today's battle. Now you must file your report. What will it say?"

Joough casts a sidelong glance at the commander for a second, and the musicians play an upbeat tune. "My report will detail the forces set against us, their tactics and capability, and the bravery of the men and their loyal obedience to the orders given them."

The commander gets a sly look on his face as he stands and circles his desk. "And nothing mentioned of your part in today's fighting? Your rallying of the men when their morale was sinking? Nothing about you dispatching 5 soldiers single-handedly? None of this?"

"No, Commander. I do not fight for glory, but so that my hatchlings can be free to live their own life, instead of it being ruled by a cruel and senile Emperor."

The Commander crouches down low, and speaks in a hiss. "Would that all of our legions were so ......noble!" The Commander then raises up, and returns to his seat. "But me, I am in this for the glory. And you will detail that it was I who rallied the men. It was I who formulated the desperate strategy that won the day."

Loough is struck dumb for a moment, and then leaps from his chair. "You would have me fabricate a lie! To our Warlord? I will have no part in this!"

"You will have a part in this, or must I inform the Warlord of your .... indiscretions?... with a certain infertile artisan. Both your family lines would be shamed, and all of you exiled."

Joough stands for a moment, mouth hanging slack. He then turns his back on the Commander and stomps to the door. Before opening it, he turns again. "As you wish. But may this act stain your soul for what's left of your wretched life." He then opens the door and walks through it.

The Commander looks at the door for a moment, and then wrings his hands and laughs. Unbeknowst to him, one of the soldiers has overheard the exchange from an open window, and was peeking inside it.

With the rythmic throbbing of the helicopter's rotors above him Carlos smiles and looks down at the castle below. Turning to one of the people he took with him he shouts to be heard. "When we land I want you and Gunney to do a complete area sweep around the landing pad before I get off. I dont trust anyone to not try an take a shot at me." Nodding the Lieutenant relays the orders to the man beside him and they begin checking their weapons and armour.

Landing with a whine of rotors and a slight bump the two body guards leap out of the helicopter and begin a quick scan and check of the area immediately around the helicopter. Completeing their scans they nod and the lieutenant returns to the helicopter and shields Carlos as he steps out whilst the other extends his patrol and scans the walls and windows of the building near him.

Looking up at the castle itself Carlos grins slyly as memories of his antics years before spring forth in his mind. "Aaah, dev we started on such great terms. Rare among our sorts of leaders." He whispers to nobody as he is led into the castle and to his rooms to refresh and await the rest of his security detail.

<LOS Communications - Devon>
{
<< You devil, you. Your new envoy certainly seemed to enjoy it. Now why does the thought of you two plotting together like that make me nervous? [grin analog]
}

Nathi arches a brow at the one-sided conversation, then nods with relief and understanding as Devon explains.

"I'd suggest we trade off staying right with him, Dev. Both for his sake and others. This is going to be ... testy."

Still, she follows his suggestion, briefly brushing her lips against his before going back to her seat with a nod and smile to those present.

<LOS Communications - Shodey>
{
<< Heads up, sis - Carlos' plane has arrived. He'll be here shortly.
}

She continues to enjoy the opera, responding accordingly as the story unfolds. As she catches sight of the chopper moving in to land, she tenses, her brow furrowing.

<LOS Communications - Devon>
{
<< Let me know what you need me to do, boy.
}

S.H.O.D.A.N. relaxes in her seat by the Scolopendrans, watching the opera intently.

<LOS-Communications with Nathi>
{
<< Understood, sis. I'll keep the centipedes in line if they need it.
}

The "centipedes," of course, don't take any notice of the helicopter landing. Alshai is too busy analyzing the opera, and Sko'loti is too caught up in her snack and replays of the hunt in her mind.

Firefury doesn't even glance in the direction of the helipad, appearing to be engrossed in the opera with a cooly distant look on her face. Well, at least you won't likely half to deal with him until the opera is over with. Hell, for all anybody knows, he'll show up with a huge entourage and avoid certain people, namely me, entirely. She frowns slightly. Good Goddess, but I do loathe politics!

Treznor wipes sweat and ox blood from his brow as he pauses for a break. I really should have worn a raincoat. Note to self: delegate slaughter to a subordinate after the first sacrifice. He looks to see how his people are doing and is happy to see that steaks from the first animal are already being handed out. Unfortunately, the supply of oxen is dreadfully low. Where the hell is that herd?

He narrows his eyes and observes Carlos enter the festival grounds flanked by nasty-looking bodyguards. Flanking them at somewhat of a remove are his own Treznor Guardsmen, looking unsure about who they're guarding from whom. He can't really blame them.

Dammit, Carlos. This is supposed to be a celebration, not a face-off.

He sighs and nods for the next ox to be brought forward. Carlos will have to wait. He mutters quietly into his throatpiece, demanding an update on the rest of the cattle. The answer doesn't make him happy.

Several more months go by, and Joough is sent on more and more dangerous tasks by the Commander, who is receiving accolades on 'his' magnificent strategic performance. In the meantime, Joough is beginning to feel the strain of his secret affair. He feels he must make a decision.

As his men bask in the morning sun, he sits upon a stone and etches a message on a resin slab to Saooh. As he does this, a light stage left comes on, showing Saooh composing a message to Joough as she convalesces in her bed-chamber. She has been feeling ill the past few weeks, and the secret affair is straining her health, she believes.

They sing in unison, as the messages being sent are the same in their content. The brass section of the orchestra plays a low, slow tune.

The song goes through details of their sneaking around, and the thrill that it brought. He tells of how the Commander knows of them, how he is blackmailing Joough, and is using the knowledge for his own advancement. She tells of the strain the relationship is having on her health, and how weak she is becoming. Both agree that the best thing to do is separate, and live as they are intended.

Joough completes his message, and summons a messenger to deliver it. It is the soldier who had spied on Jouugh and the Commander months before. Saooh does the same with one of her hatchmates.

A few moments after Joough sends the message, a battle-horn is sounded. The men rally quickly, and it is a long and furious fight. Wave after wave of attackers storms Jouugh's men, and eventually they are overwhelmed as the fighting becomes very close quarter.

Saooh sends her message, and shortly after is whracked with spasms. She screams at the top of her lungs as physicians race in and immediately tend to her.

At the battle scene, the battle is over, and scores of bodies are heaped on each other. Joough is mortally wounded, with two long spikes sticking through his abdomen. The Commander walks through the battlefield, and spies Joough. Walking forward, he places his foot on a body next to the fallen Captain.

"So, this is one fight you will not walk away from, yes? I suppose I will have to fabricate details, and gain prestige as the only survivor." He laughs long and loud.Joough raises his hand, and grabs the Commander. Pulling him close, he wheezes in pain as he sings.

"Foul stain on our people's honor. You are also finished here. I sent a message this morn revealing all. There will be no glory for you. Only death by execution." He rasps and wheezes, laughing the whole time as his hand slips off the Commander.

The Commander stands shosked for a moment, then pulls up a small hammer and yells as he smashes it into the top of Jouugh's head, killing him. The light fades out on this scene as it fades in on the other.

As this is happening, Saooh has stopped screaming, and appears pale and disoriented. She spasms for a time as she calls out for her lover, and all the physicians are dumbfounded. "Who is this Joough? We know not of him."

Finally, she lays still. A short time later, her breathing stops, and she passes from life. The physicians close her eyes and cover her. One looks at a growing stain on her bedding, and lifts up the cover. There is much blood, but also something else.

They stare at each other as the one physician lifts up a pair of powder-blue eggs.

The curtain closes as the orchestra plays the low sound of deep bass
string instruments.

After a brief time, the curtain rises again, and the players take their bows as Kraah hoots his approval off-stage.

Momentarily forgetting the looming political confrontation, Firefury hops to her feet applauding the performance. Wow, that was pretty awesome. Definately need to recommend these guys to the Arpean Performing Arts Center!

Alshai and Shody nod appreciatively almost as one, while Sko blinks a few times and sniffs quietly. High praise, considering the quietness of the those involved.

Nathicana watches, completely engrossed in the opera, the play of emotions plain on her face as the scenes continue. Occasionally, she glances at Treznor, an odd contemplative look in her eyes, mixed with no small measure of pride, admiration, and quite frankly, lust.

As the final scenes play out, quiet tears are streaming down her cheeks, and she dabs at them delicately with her handkerchief. As the curtain drops, and the actors take their bows, she rises to her feet, cheering and applauding with the rest of the crowd, wrapped up in the experience enough that her entire commentary is in her native language.

"Bravissimo! Il dio, ché prestazioni. Devo prenotarlo per un giro. La gente lo amerebbe!" she says, intent on booking them for a tour.

She has, for the moment, forgotten all about the arrival of Carlos. Blame the lingering effects of the wine, the magnificent performance, or the thoughts the plot has evoked in her mind ... whatever the reason, the effect is the same - something for which she'll be kicking herself later.

Kraah takes to the stage, and gestures with a sweeping arm to the entire cast, who take their bows again.

He then turns to the assembled group.

"Honored peoples, the story you have seen is based on history. The soldier who played messenger was the great grand-sire of my mate Sszeera. This tale has been passed from generation to generation. We thank you for your appreciation." He bows low, as does the cast.

"Now, we were told there was eats to be had?"

As the opera progressed, Neasa whispered what events were unfolding on stage to Aidean. At the end, they came to an agreement- if this were ever made into a movie, the evil commander would have to come to an appropriate end.

Making his way accross the grounds Carlos fiddles with the concealed microphone in his left pocket and grumbles. "Of all the uniforms why did Intel make me wear this one? It's so not me." Looking down at the military green jacket with loose fitted long pants and polished military boots he shakes his head and checks the mic once more.

"Ok, can you guys hear me well?" He whispers into the mic and recieves a short response from the other two guards now stationed in his rooms of the castle. "Good, show time in about three minutes if I'm right." Turning to face the guards behind him Carlos ignores the Treznorian ones for now and speaks to his men. "Gunney and Chalco your not coming inside with me, I know for a fact the presence of armed guards will be looked upon badly. If these boys will let you, take to patroling the grounds themselves.

You two are the best I've got. We've been through alot together so now do this for me. You'll be the first people called should anything happen." recieving silent nods and slight frowns of disapproval the two guards stop at the doors and let Carlos walk in on his own. Making his way to the area designated for the party eating he takes a seat at a table and arranges his microphone inside his pocket once more and waits for the other guests to arrive.

"Bravo!" Treznor shouts from his position. "Bravissimo! Encore!"

He grins at Kraah's reminder and gestures to the pile of meat smoking atop the barbecue pit. "The first steaks are ready. Please observe the tables off to your left that have catering staff waiting to meet your individual needs. There's food inside and out for those who desire more climate controlled evironments, and the fireworks will begin in an hour. Enjoy!"

He makes a grand gesture of welcome and encouragement, then after a moment calls for an assistant to take over while he makes his way to Kraah.

"Advisor," he says when he gets within earshot. "I've got food flying in for your actors, but obviously it won't be ready for a while yet. I'll leave it up to you to decide how you want to feed them. I made sure there was enough for you, but there's enough for everyone if you hold off on gorging for a few more hours. It's your choice."

"I guess we should start milling about again." Sko' stands up, stretching before returning to idly nibbling on her flank of ox.

Quite. Kommetrez eyes the kzinret. You going to put something on?

Sko'loti shrugs expressively. "I was told it is an informal event... yes, I did make sure, sir."

Fair enough. Alshai shrugs. Have fun. The two look around and wander off in different directions.

"I have eaten three days ago, so gorging is not on my list of recreations for this day. However, I will let the players eat first; they certainly earned it." With that, he sweeps his arm in a motion of 'Go ahead' from the players to the food set out.

They descend on it in a calculated manner, thanking Devon for the fine food laid out as they take their portions.

Firefury wanders over to where Kraah and Devon with a grin. "Amazing performance, Advisor, and interesting ceremony, Devon. Sorry I can't really partake in it." She winks. "By the way, any chance of booking these guys for a tour in the Shogunate?"

Despite the open, social behavior, her expression does look carefully guarded, even as she acts as if Carlos was nowhere nearby.

Kraah whips out his datapad, and cues up a screen. "Most certainly. You can contact their manager at the Kastaa Ampitheater. I'll give you his ID." He hands the datapad over to Queen Firefury, that she may garner the information herself.

Sko'loti walks easily over the grass, looking around until she sees a relatively familiar face. Changing her course, she wanders up to Nathi, still munching every so often on her long strip of meet. "Good afternoon, ma'am." Munch. "Looks like now that the meet-and-greet is over you are having a better time of it."

Looking over her shoulder, she sees her host, the orange Reploid she recognizes as queen of the Shogunate--why is she a queen and not a shogun if it's a shogunate?--and possibly one of the best-known foreign leaders (even if former) in the Diplomatic Corps, Advisor Kraah. He is legendary from stories sent back by D.O. H'zta, always certain to elicit a chuckle if nothing else. Turning back to Nathi, she smiles contentedly. "Did you enjoy the opera?"

While not idle--her voice gives away that she did--the question doesn't seem to be elicited by any analysis of Nathi's mood.

"Sì, molto così." she replies, nodding with a close-lipped smile, dabbing once again at her eyes. "That was simply ... magnificent. I'd never before seen opera done so by, well, quite frankly, non-human performers. I'm amazed at the powerful emotions it elicited. I'm certain that Dominion folk would enjoy such a performance. I think, all things considered, we need to expand our experiences more."

She nodded again, thoughtfully as she spoke. "You know, I've been able to meet and greet so many new, strange races. My people ... I've intentionally limited them, allowing change to come slowly. A mistake, or wisdom do you think? We had been so isolationist before ... and the technology levels have come so fast as it is ... "

She trails off, her glance sliding to Treznor once again, lips turning up in a wistful smile. She absentmindedly reaches out to a passing tray, taking up a glass and sipping, before realizing what she has in her hands. Blinking, she sets the wine down, turning her full attention back on Sko.

"And you, Officer," she says warmly. "I hope you have been enjoying the celebration? That was an incredible display of skill and speed you demonstrated earlier. I was very impressed. And I'm quite grateful to you for taking care of the runaway. It could have been a mess were it not for you."

If she thought the state of undress the kzinret displayed or the munching of raw meat were odd, she didn't show it, taking it all in stride. To her credit, she had seen similar behavior, eating wise, from Speaker before, so felt a bit more prepared to accept it with a smile.

Firefury grins and looks over the datapad briefly, committing the contact information to memory. "Excellent! I bet these guys go over great in the Shogunate!"

She glances over her shoulder, catching sight of the tall kzinret and Nathi. "Looks like I wasn't the only one who really enjoyed it, either!"

Kraah takes a strip of meat, and samples it with amazing gingerness; his mind is deep in recollection. "Well, it is one of our greatest stories, and of great import to me personally. If the two leads in the story did not have their affair, I would not be here, the Empire would remain hidden and our people would still be stuck with sticks and crossbows as weapons."

"One of the eggs laid by Saooh was the bearer of our first Emperor Gorrm, who was my sire 7 times removed. He was responsible for getting our people up to speed with the rest of the world."

"And you, Officer," she says warmly. "I hope you have been enjoying the celebration? That was an incredible display of skill and speed you demonstrated earlier. I was very impressed. And I'm quite grateful to you for taking care of the runaway. It could have been a mess were it not for you."
Sko'loti chuckles softly, munching some more on the strip of meat as her breath huffs softly from her nostrils. "Trust me, it was entirely my pleasure. It has been a while since I have been able to take the opportunity... but thank you for the compliment. One must be more careful with the larger prey, after all."

She ponders for a moment, toying with her snack. "I would think that gradual change is better... but there is rarely harm in the careful exposure of culture. The Dominion has been traditionally open-minded and curious about such things, if I remember correctly, and so I do not think there is a problem with exposing them to this. It was an... excellent production."

Firefury nods slowly. "Amazing story, shows just how even the most minor of things can actually have a massive impact on things. Don't think the Shogunate's got any stories quite comprable, but given events at the Valley of Dragons, I wouldn't doubt that some group or other decides to put together a performance of the Journeys of the Far-Searcher."

She grins slightly. "Goes to show that reality often has better stories than fiction, doesn't it?"

"I would tend to agree. Fiction is good for stirring the imagination, but there is almost always a feeling of non-completeness; a lack of believability. Reality offers the whole breadth and scope of an experience. The fact that the events depicted are true adds a certain flavor."

It reminds me to touch base with my hatchling. I should make certain affairs of state aren't getting to weigh heavily on him.

Paws extended in Friendship,

Yarooo entered the hall, surrounded by two towering Gnoll Bodyguards, each bearing ceremonial sabre-axes, which were no doubt quite sharp and less ceremonial than some would believe. Some of the more discerning in attendance would note the slight limp, while at the same time noting that the large Gnoll carried himself with a renewed sense of self, having recently emerged from the jaws of death victorious and refreshed. Around his neck, prominently displayed on a gold chain was a claw from a Dire Bear. Yarooo wore a black tuxedo, in the manner of humans, but his canine, predatory appearance was anything but human. Often just a lick of his lips and smile of his pointy teeth were enough to make many humans uncomfortable. And Yarooo liked to smile quite a bit. The Warleader approached Devon Treznor, the Emperor of Treznor.

“It is so good to see you again my old friend. I’m sorry I was held up for a bit, but I had to oversee the punitive destruction of some irritating people responsible for trying to assassinate my Cabinet on a Dire Bear Hunt. Quite rude of them to interrupt my hunt I’m sure you’ll agree. I understand that menu of this gathering will definitely be to my liking though.”

Yarooo, Gnoll Warleader and Dictator for Life

The Indomitable Borderlands of the Grendels

Treznor blinks in surprise, but recovers quickly and steps forward to engulf his oldest ally in a bearhug. Well, more like hugging a bear, but he pays it no mind.

"Yaroo! I didn't expect to see you here! I'm sorry you missed the opera and the sacrifice, but your timing is still superb. You're just in time to eat!"

He gestures sharply to his people who run fetch furniture appropriate for Gnolls.

"I don't know whom you're familiar with tonight. Allow me to make the introductions. You're in the company of my allies from the NDA and the Triumvirate of Yut. First we have Carlos Quil'raya of the Holy Empire of Iraqstan, then..."

He makes the rounds chatting happily, covering his surprise at the unexpected entry. Clearly, he isn't displeased, merely caught off-guard.

Nathicana nods, still smiling pleasantly.

"As has been told me on several occasions - adapt and live, grow stagnant and die - though the words were much better put than that. Our curiousity, I'll admit to, though I'm not certain it has always been a healthy thing." She chuckles softly, idly rubbing at the base of her throat for a moment.

"I hope that such changes I've introduced, and plan on continuing to bring to the Dominion, will have a favorable effect --"

She broke off, her eyes going a bit wide as she saw the impressive entrance of Yarooo and his honor guard. She stiffened instinctively as they approached Devon - the very reason she'd caught sight of them when she did - relaxing only slightly as she observed the mutually warm greeting.

"Sweet Jesu, would you look at that ..." she murmurs, though the sudden, inexplicably humorous thought of 'cats and dogs' suddenly leaps to mind as she stands next to Sko, looking over the newcomers. She firmly maintains her facade, and puts a hand to her lips, making quite certain her mirth remains private.

Paws extended in Friendship,

“Our great Nations haven’t spent nearly as much time working together lately as I would have liked,” stated Yarooo, licking his canine lips at the food at the table and the guests seated nearby. “It’s good to see you again. I see you’ve been quite busy in the World. I was worried that I might have missed the Feast, but here I am.”

The two ‘ceremonial’ bodyguards occasionally shifted their eyes this way and that scanning the crowd, but never seemed to pay any attention to their charge. Their mouths were slightly open in haunting smiles, as if they had both seen a helpless deer in a meadow.

Yarooo, Gnoll Warleader and Dictator for Life

The Indomitable Borderlands of the Grendels

Kraah notes the entrance of the canine beings, and feels his crest raise a tad. Easy old boy. Easy. Let's see what they're up to here. The players have set their-selves up and are sitting on seats, eating and gabbing away.

"Sweet Jesu, would you look at that ..." she murmurs, though the sudden, inexplicably humorous thought of 'cats and dogs' suddenly leaps to mind as she stands next to Sko, looking over the newcomers. She firmly maintains her facade, and puts a hand to her lips, making quite certain her mirth remains private.
"Ah." Following Nathi's indication, the kzinret looks over her shoulder and sees the odd canine-like creatures. Pausing for a moment, her tail flicks back and forth with curiosity at the new species. "Grendels. We have heard of them but never contacted them before now. They seem friendly enough." She does pause and tense at the sight of Yaroo's bare teeth, which is probably the reason she turns back around to Nathi. It would never do to flip out on a fellow guest.

Kommetrez stands off to the side, watching the banter between the leader Grendel and Devon, taking mental notes from their interaction that may assist for first-contact purposes.

Treznor makes a circuit around the room, addressing each person individually and introducing them to Yaroo. Eventually he comes to Nathicana. "This is the Dread Lady Nathicana. In an odd, twisted sort of way, she's an older ally to me than you are. She's also a dear friend, and has been instrumental in most of the success that I've enjoyed. Nath, meet Yaroo. I know I've told you about him before. Did I lie?"

OOC: I'd be happy to post an introduction for each and every person, but wouldn't you get terribly bored? I know I would. Feel free to welcome Yaroo and continue with the mingling. I should be back to post again in about a week.

As Treznor makes the rounds with Yaroo....
Neasa: "Well... Hello."
Aidean: "It's big. Do you think it would mind if I felt it?"
N: "Yes, I do think he'd mind."
A: "Yaroo, would you mind me feeling what your face looks like? It's rather disconcerting not to know."

"Well, I knew you said he was impressive, Dev, but the reality certainly outshines the image you presented. Yarooo, it is a pleasure to meet you finally," she says, putting forth her delicate hand to him with a genuine smile. Her grip certainly doesn't match the softness she shows outwardly, firm and strong, though not too much so. "I think the Emperor here overstates my role in his success - he's done most of it on his own, I assure you," she says, flashing Devon a proud smile. "However, I shan't deny that we make an exceptional team."

She turns slightly to Sko'loti, careful in her smile towards her. "May I present Diplomatic Officer Sko'loti-Hucy of Scolopendra," she says by way of introduction. "One of our mutual allies in the Triumvirate, and one helluva fine huntress, if I do say so myself."

Alshai bows shortly and shakes the grendel's hand firmly, brown eyes glowing softly from his dark-skinned face. International Relations Advisor Alshai Kommetrez of the Federated Segments of Scolopendra. Good to meet you, sir.

* - * - *

With Nathi, Sko'loti-Hucy bows, seemingly unconcerned with her state of total undress. In the back of her mind, she wishes that she had her D.O. uniform on to make a proper impression, but isn't overly concerned. "I am not so deserving of high praise; I am sure that a mere ox does not compare to the predator that became your prey." She nods towards the Dire Bear tooth.

As Yaroo seems to smile a lot, and probably smiles unconsciously around the kzinret, she pauses with a slight holding-back tension in her frame. She shrugs it off quickly and smiles thinly with a flutter of her batwing ears. "I apologize... but bared teeth are a threat in my culture. Having been a teacher for several years and dealing with giggling, grinning schoolchildren, I am rather immune to it from humans. Given your more... impressive set of jaws, however... I find in myself a disquiet I have not felt in a long time."

She chuckles softly. "Please consider it an odd sort of honor."

Shrugging off his worries Carlos stands and makes his way towards Devon. On his way he spies the orange clad reploid that's of late become a nemesis and interesting confliction. Hiding a grimace Carlos looks down slightly and mutters quietly. "That firefury is here. Wonder if I can get roaringly drunk and burn some bridges." A soft chuckle comes back from the concealed ear piece.

Shaking his head Carlos resumes walking over to Devon and smiles openly. "Hail and well met, dear Devon. How are you my friend?" He asks when he has an opportunity and extends his hand towards his oldest an trusted ally.

Uriel simply bows when being introduced to Yaroo.

Impossible, i can´t believe how many hellish creatures live on earth... How can... It´s a test for us, it`s gods will to test us, to see if we are worthy of him...

"It´s... an honour."

---

Moments later, he sees Carlos. Finally, he`s there... hopefully i get a chance to talk with him.

In his mind, ideas are given form... Ideas of a Sirithilist- free Iraqstan, of a Christian Iraqstan... of a bright future, of greatness and beauty...

Firefury leans against the wall, her expression turning coolly unreadable as she eyes Carlos warily, sizing the man up, noting any armaments. Clearly a threat assessment. She has little to fear from most normal munitions, but it was known that Iraqstan possessed some energy weapons. She idly rests her right hand on her left shoulder, remembering the last time a plasma weapon had been used against her.

It takes two to tango, and I'm not dancing. Dance alone in your madness, Carlos Quil'Raya, may the chains of Order bind you that the axe of Chaos may destroy that which you have wrought. Die alone, in cold or in fire, die alone, in dishonor.

A passing servant glances at the reploid's face and scurries away, something in those hard blue eyes indicating... something... unsettling.

((OOC: Just for the record, I'm going to be very sporadic until January 8th, so best to just leave my character hanging solo near the wall. ^_^;))

<><><>

Tari clung to Uriel's side, more than a little intimidated by the towering Gnoll Warleader.

Rene Seingult appeared on the other side of the Endless Crimes Seraph to greet Yaroo.

His height was impressive; even she, pureblooded Tsa, had to look up to meet his gaze.

"Hail to you, Warleader," she said, struggling to remember anything about The Grendels, "Well met."

Paws extended in Friendship,

Yarooo greeted each of the fellow representitives with the courtesy expected of a head of state. He knew that instinctively many of the guests would be on edge; he evolved from a predator and they from a prey animal. The fact that Gnoll businessmen and salesmen exploited that same uneasiness across the World more than compensated their Model State for the tensions that Gnoll diplomats had to contend with.

As the leader of one of the most powerful economies of the Nation States World, Yarooo had always maintained the importance of getting to know the representatives of that world. The Gnoll Warleader had no delusions that without the lucrative markets of the outside World, the Grendels would be just another anonymous Nation in a sea of Nations.
He regretted that security concerns often kept him from traveling to the more volatile areas of the World, but at least there were enough well schooled diplomats to maintain the flow of trade.

Following Emperor Treznor’s lead, with whom Yarooo seems completely at ease, the Warleader finds himself in the presence of the Dread Lady Nathicana. Yarooo, paid special attention to the Dread Lady, in part because of her special relationship with Treznor and partly because of her ease of diplomacy. The Warleader also took the time to closely examine Diplomatic Officer Sko’loti-Hucy of Scolopendra, noting the way she moved and how she balanced herself when she were not. Yarooo had some experience with the Bengal feline beings of Wysteria and had at least a good point of reference to start with in dealing with these people. Gnoll and Kzinret, two sentient species evolved from predators. Here at least was the common ground from where an understanding could be reached.

Yarooo, Gnoll Warleader and Dictator for Life

The Indomitable Borderlands of the Grendels

Sko'loti is sure to return the careful scan, the careful one-upmanship of predators. She does seem to flaunt and pose just a very little, as the close examination is not seen as an insult. In fact, it is seen as what it is: quite the natural thing. She notes the definite warrior stance of Yarooo, his keen sense of balance, and is honestly saddened by how his limp mars it... yet quietly impressed at Yarooo's careful adaptation to the new stride.

Treznor beams happily as he finishes the rounds with Yarooo. Satisfied that all is well, he turns to Carlos and greets him with a firm handshake and hug, aware of the attention that must be on them. "Good to see you, you old dog. Everything well with the family? I wasn't sure if you were going to make it to the party. I'll get you a disk with footage from the ceremony, if you like. The opera's going to be a huge hit with my people in the next few months. I wouldn't be surprised to see half a dozen imitators try to match them."

Hiding his surprise Carlos returns the hug and chuckles. "I would like that. Of course I'd be here, had some troubles with those snipers again. Had a tail on my exit and I had to stand by whilst they raided the place. Got em this time thankfully. Will be a trial an announcement in a few weeks. I notice you've quite a few......intresting appearances here my friend." Offering a sly wink Carlos steps aside. "Please, introduce me to some of these people my friend."

Tari clung to Uriel's side, more than a little intimidated by the towering Gnoll Warleader.

Rene Seingult appeared on the other side of the Endless Crimes Seraph to greet Yaroo.

His height was impressive; even she, pureblooded Tsa, had to look up to meet his gaze.

"Hail to you, Warleader," she said, struggling to remember anything about The Grendels, "Well met."

Uriel noticed Tari`s intimidation, and smiled. How cute. He thought, a strange thought for a EC Seraph... But then, he was in a position to think it. He hold her hand, whispering to her when Yaroo went away. "Quite... impressive, isn`t he? Not to mention... well..." He hesitated. "Dangerous. But i see... friends." He continued, looking in Carlos general direction. "Could be interesting..."

"You know the Führer Quil'raya?" Tari asked, hurrying to keep up with Uriel's much longer stride. "Isn't he, well..." she lowered her voice, to keep her words from carrying to the famous (or infamous, depending on who you asked) leader. "They say he's mad," she finished.

Nathicana watched Devon greet Carlos, her expression outwardly neutral, though she made a point to observe any reactions from those around them, relying on her amplified hearing to bring any noteable comments to her ears. Knowing she'd have to greet him sometime, and unsure of how he would react, she walked towards the two slowly, a pleasant smile on her face.

"Carlos," she said softly, offering her hand in greeting. "It has been a long, hard road of late. It is good to see you have weathered it well."

"You know the Führer Quil'raya?" Tari asked, hurrying to keep up with Uriel's much longer stride. "Isn't he, well..." she lowered her voice, to keep her words from carrying to the famous (or infamous, depending on who you asked) leader. "They say he's mad," she finished.

Uriel lowered his voice. "Thats why he is interesting... and useful." He hesitated. "And no, i do not 'know' him, not personally... But one tends to be informed."

He stepped foreward, Tari with him, heading for Carlos Quil`raya. After all, This was why he was here... well, essentially.

Treznor's eyes tighten slightly at the suggestion of introductions, but he maintains his smile. You know damned well how highly my new allies regard you. And you know what kind of reaction this will provoke. Ah well, in for a penny, in for a pound.

"Of course," he says out loud. "You haven't had the chance to mingle like everyone else. Some people here you already know, if only by reputation. Let's start with the ones you don't." He steers Carlos toward the banquet. "Here in the corner glutting himself is Advisor Kraah, formerly Emperor of Sakkra. His people surprised us with tonight's opera. Kraah, this is Carlos Quil'raya of the Holy Empire of Iraqstan, one of my oldest allies."

Here we go.

Looking at Nathicana cautiously Carlos takes her offered hand and gently raises it to his mouth. Bowing his head slightly he kisses her hand in greeting and looks back up a mischevious smile playing out on his lips. "Weathered and flourished I do believe, even considering the scuttling of assets and substances around and behind me." Winking slightly he then turns to the being who he was introduced to dipping at the waist in a short respectful bow Carlos smiles again. "An honour to meet you Advisor Kraah."

Reputations alone eh dev. We all know what reputation that reploid....thing has in Iraqstan.

Kraah swaloows the food he had just put into his mouth, making certain none is dangling out from the sides. he then eyes Carlos with one eye, and his guard detail with the other. A short bow is then made, and an extending of one clawed hand.

"Emperor Quil'raya, it is an honor to meet you. The happenings in your home have caught the attention of our foreign affairs divisions, which is a small feat considering how we like to keep the world at arms length, to a degree. If you're going to do something, make sure it gets noticed, yes?"

Charming and sly as ever, Carlos. Crazy bastard. She nodded in response, drawing back on his introduction to Kraah, though lingering close to Devon, saying nothing, but trying to watch everything without seeming to. Seeking out one of the staff, she requested another ice water, and upon recieving it, drank deeply, grimacing slightly at the sensations from her implant, still complaining from earlier abuse.

"So far so good," she whispers softly, for Devon's ears alone.

Hucy, having little else to do, sticks by Nathi. Not particularly caring for Quil'raya but not particularly despising him either, she decides to use the most effective strategy she's learned to avoid having to be introduced to people: stay behind them.

And seeing how the Dread Lady is keeping near Devon, who is leading the resident insane Nazi around, idly accompanying Nathi serves that purpose quite well. She continues to munch on the ex-ox, looking slightly saddened on how short the strip has become over time.

Bowing his head respectfuly Carlos shakes Kraah's hand firmly and smiles innocently. " An honour to meet you in turn sir. It seems more and more of my actions are becoming the public voyerism of so many nations. I wonder if I should make a TV show... Who wants to be an exile perhaps?" Chuckling softly he shrugs. "But yes, I agree if it's to be noticed it should well be something to remember."

A sly light shining in his eye Carlos nods to Kraah once more and sips cautiously from a glass of wine. "I trust you all have enjoyed yourselves so far? I am a little saddened for missing the show but some personal matters kept me from arriving on time." Flashing a quick wink to Devon Carlos takes a step back slightly as if suddenly feeling crowded by the people around him. Watch me all you want, aslong as your focused on the mainland you wont see my other plans.....

Kraah hoists up the now 3/4 empty barrel of beer, and squirts a jet of the delightful, if not slightly under-potent, liquid into his lipless mouth.

"Hrrrr, I am enjoying myself, as are the players...." He motions to the small crowd of Sakkrans sitting at several tables, eating slowly and casting their eyes about. "....and will take this opportunity to invite you to tour our lands, when 'personal business' allows you the time."

Blinking slowly to hide any surprise Carlos takes a moment to regain himself and nods his head slowly. "I will definately take you up on that invite when I have finished clearing some differences of opinions about my security." Chuckling softly Carlos shrugs. "I was delayed due to some snipers setting up along the way to the airport. We had to lock the capital down to find them. All are in custody for routine investigations and I am told they will provide some valuable information on the remains of the rebel network in Sirithilia and the rest of the motherland."

Shrugging softly Carlos smiles and drains his glass, motioning for another he returns his attention to the people before him.

((OOC: Whee, I'm back!))

Firefury watches Devon lead the 'resident insane Nazi' around, her eyes completely hard and unreadable, despite the social smile she has since plastered to her face. It really is a shame my helmet's still in the shop for repairs. It looks a lot more imposing than a ponytail. Ah well.

She mingles idly, not exactly the greatest diplomatic party animal. (After all, the parties she used to attend as Wingleader of the 337th Wing of the Air Corps weren't exactly what one would call 'diplomatic'.) She keeps her distance from Carlos, mingling with the others in attendance.

Treznor walks Carlos around the room casually, neither pushing the pace or anyone into introductions. Eventually, he cocks his head as a message comes through to him. "Ah, it looks like the rest of the feast is finally here. Excuse me please, while I go see to the rest of the herd. Avail yourself of the food and drink; you have my personal guarantee that there will be no assassination attempts tonight. I'll personally shoot anyone who tries." He winks and gestures to the buffet table. "There's a good supply of Scotch you might be familiar with, as well as some new wines I just imported. Have fun, and I'll be right back."

Sko'loti-Hucy looks after Devon. "Need assistance with the herd?" The offer may be connected to the fact that her hands are now empty.

Chuckling softly Carlos nods to Devon. "Of course my friend. I'll see you soon." Turning about he looks for someone else to open some sort of discussion with. Seeing nobody in close proximity he frowns and shrugs.

Walking towards the buffet table he appropriates a glass and heads for the scotch. "Aaah, such wonderous things." He mutters and pours himself a hefty drink. Sipping from it slowly, he casts a glance off to where Firefury stands and chuckles. "Well, looks like I'm not the only one without socialisation." He mutters as he turns his attention to Nathicana.

"I wish not to bring such things to a friendly event but, I will have to drag you and Devon away for a few minutes. I've some things that need discussing in length mostly to do with the NDA and the conflicting of intrests in the shogunate. I also have a private matter I need to discuss with you aswell one that I think should clear up any uh.... difficulties we've had of late." Smiling softly he sips from his glass of scotch and looks about the gathered people.

Upon hearing the mention of the second herd benig in readiness, Kraah's stomach rumbles loud and low. He pats it gently as if it were a child. "Patience, my pretty, patience. Soon you will have your fill."

He perks his head up and eyes Devon and Hucy. "I would also be willing to lend aid. I am at your disposal." He gives a low bow with more than a little flourish.

"Of course, Carlos. Still, as mentioned before in missives ... the tariffs were lifted, and relations were normalized again. I see no need to hold grudges on my part," she says, watching him carefully. "Perhaps, after you've had a chance to eat, we can sit down and discuss?"

<LOS Communications - to Devon>
{
>> Dev, what's up with Carlos? He's got something he wants to talk to us about, and I'm not getting a good vibe from him on it. Something about the NDA and his problems with Firefury ... At any rate, when you can, please rejoin us.
}

Firefury tags along after Devon, partly out of boredom, partly to get out of the tense atmosphere inside. "Mind if we have a word or two? Not to be pushy, but what's the status on Carlos? I'm sure he's not too thrilled that I'm here, given recent.... problems... and I don't want to inadvertantly set off some farging huge ballistic international incident because of your party. Any recommendations?"

The orange reploid falls into step with the host of the party and chuckles slightly. "I should have sent Tsume instead. Ah well."

Treznor quirks an eyebrow at the offers for help, and nods gently to all three. "Sure, you're welcome to assist. Far be it from me to spoil the fun."

He leads the way toward the back lots where the herd is being delivered.

<LOS Communications - Nathicana>
{
>> Hmm...he's got people still trying to assassinate him and we haven't completely convinced him that Firefury isn't supporting the assassins. So long as he behaves himself, leave him alone. If he starts a fight at my party I'll have him stunned and shipped home with a bottle of brandy. My Guardsmen have their orders.
}

He shrugs at Firefury. "What, you think Tsume would have more fun? I think it's a big enough party that you can both enjoy yourselves without getting too close. The man is still my friend, after all."

OOC: Reploid Productions, is the Valley of Dragons thing still going?

"Carlos!" Rene said, smiling. "Good evening. I trust you are having a pleasant time?"

And I hope that we can all continue to have a pleasant time, she thought. Putting Carlos and Firefury in the same room seemed to her like a recepie for disaster, although the two seemed to be avoiding each other.

War should be prevented at any cost.

((OOC: Yeah, Valley is still going, albeit very slowly ^_^;;;))

Firefury snickers darkly. "Eh, Tsume's better at this diplomatic stuff than I am." She grins. "I'm told I have a terrible temper and tend to be excessively blunt. For instance, where the rest of the Trium sent EOTED the infamous fruit basket, I would more likely have fired off a tart reply telling the Nenyans what exactly I thought of them." She bursts into laughter. "Then again, I suppose I did!"

As the small gathering heads outside, and definately out of earshot of those indoors, she snorts. "I heard about the snipers. Good Goddess Shimeki, why must people be such absolutely stunning IDIOTS?!" She briefly arms her cannon to emphasize her next statement. "If any twit gets the bright idea to try something tonight, I swear that I will mangle them personally!"

Smiling softly Carlos bows his head to Rene. "As well as can be expected given the mood with which I arrived. I hope you too are enjoying yourself." Raising his glass in salute Carlos nods towards the guests. "Met anyone of interest in all this mix?" He asks with a wink. So many people, so little time. I'd just love to know what most of them think of my being here. Aaaah, I wonder how far I can play tonight.

"There's the Endless Crimes Intelligence minister around somewhere," Rene replied. "Actually, I think he was looking for you. Tall man with wings with a Hyazich woman in an indecent dress attached to his side - you can't miss him."

"I heard about the snipers. Good Goddess Shimeki, why must people be such absolutely stunning IDIOTS?!" She briefly arms her cannon to emphasize her next statement. "If any twit gets the bright idea to try something tonight, I swear that I will mangle them personally!"
Hucy chuckles, walking along with the reploid and Devon. "I suppose I should have worn my ballistic armor, then?"

Firefury quirks an eyebrow, briefly sizing up Hucy with a wry grin. "I dunno... after what you did to that ox, I doubt armor or no armor would make a terribly large difference in the fate of some wiseass trying to cap Mr. Controversy at this party."

Hucy just looks back the the reploid with a sly smirk. "I am more concerned for my protection than his. Bullets miss, sometimes. I will admit, however, that bodily freedom is always a good thing for hunting, for it needs dexterity to be most efficient and artful.

"A proper pounce is an art," she states with the firmness of fact.

Firefury chuckles. "I'll take your word for it. Can't say I've ever been big on pouncing. That's more in Tsume's area of expertise. Dogfighting, on the other hand..." She grins. "That is my art form. But yeah, manuverability and speed beat out tanking any day!"

"I believe 'coming out of the sun' is an appropriate pounce analog," Hucy chuckles. "Still, no denial there... as long as one keeps the strength that when they bite, they bite deep."

Firefury nods. "Yeah, that works. S'also why the Elite Victory is so lightly armed. Two energy cannons and a nose-mounted conventional unit. Not much, but they hurt when they hit." She grins. "Gee, hoping another ox will maybe get loose? Oddly convenient that you were lurking about when the last one got loose."

Yay, double-posting.

Treznor smirks and shakes his head. "If you want to chase another ox, I can arrange it. Just give me time to warn my people to expect it. So long as I have enough for the Sakkra, you can chase all the oxen you like."

Kraah, in the meantime, is beginning to eye the prospect of oxen-on-the-hoof with a moist gleam in his eye. "The players, i'm certain, are quite sated for the moment. They'll bask for a time and digest, so there is no rush on that end. However......" He pats his protesting belly a few times. "...others are not so patient. Heh heh."

"There's the Endless Crimes Intelligence minister around somewhere," Rene replied. "Actually, I think he was looking for you. Tall man with wings with a Hyazich woman in an indecent dress attached to his side - you can't miss him."

Chuckling softly Carlos nods "Yes, I've seen the man. They are quite impressive to look at are they not?" Sipping from his glass of scotch he offers the bottle to Rene. "Care for a drink? I believe it is imported from Iraqstan herself. You too Nathi?"

Nathicana winces internally at the offer of scotch, knowing all too well just how potent it is, and the effect it would have on her already taxed implant. Still ... Gods, what if I offend him by not accepting? Christ, the last thing I need right now is him getting bent out of shape at this party, and especially not at me, now that he seems amenable to more pleasant relationships. Damn. Damn, damn, damn ...

"Of course, Carlos. Grazie," she says, holding out a glass with a practiced smile. "I think I recognize the label - all too well, if I might add. Your hospitality was impeccable on that tour, Carlos. I truly enjoyed myself."

Small sips. Enough to satisfy. Toss it when you can.