Machiavelli Station (Open IC)

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

Naiya was angry.

There were no two ways about it. She was angry, she wasn’t getting the answers she wanted, and she was being treated like a child and being made a virtual prisoner in her own apartments. Oh sure, she had everything she wanted so far as food or entertainment – save online access. That had been shut down cat-quick, and her mother had made certain she was clear on the reasons why. As usual, she didn’t have to agree, she just had to go along with it.

Until now, she hadn’t had a lot of reasons to really want to go against her mother’s wishes. Not concerning anything very important in any case. There was the usual disagreements growing up of course, and she had more obstacles to overcome in getting around her mother’s wishes due to her position and the extra security and such, but still.

“It isn’t fair,” she muttered, spitefully kicking a pillow across the room. Her mother had been busy with meetings and all the diplomacy issues. And so it seemed, was everyone else. Workmen were busy fixing up the damage done to the apartments in the fight. She had no idea what was going on after that because no one would tell her any more than her mother already had. Security was so tight it nearly squeaked, and no amount of imperiously-delivered ultimatums had swayed any one of them to bend the rules for her – though each and every one of them had been painfully polite in their apologies.

Nothing was more infuriating than being told ‘no’ by a person you knew could tell you ‘yes’, but would be in worse trouble for doing so, and couldn’t be ruffled into an argument about it no matter how hard you tried, in her opinion. Other than of course, simply being told ‘no’ and not being able to do anything about it. She’d even tried some of the tricks they had at school to get onto sites they weren’t supposed to, or borrow the faster connection speeds off the admin system, but the station had things locked up tight.

She hadn’t even been able to talk to Marcus, and that above all really stung. They’d always been close, and they’d shared pretty much everything. Sure, he might be a little worried as well what with the unknown and all, but she knew he’d support her. They tried not to make a big deal out of the family situation as much as they could. It wasn’t really fair to either one of them, and nothing much could be done about it without causing more of a fuss after all. But at least they were able to talk and share and offer a shoulder when things got tough on either side. And right now she was feeling rather alone. The only other person who’d seemed to put her feelings and worries first up here was the one person she knew the least – and she hadn’t been allowed out of the apartments even to see him. Perhaps especially to see him – she wasn’t sure.

Naiya looked out into the corridor, and sighed at the sight of one of the now ever-present soldati. The woman didn’t acknowledge her as she walked past, but did speak a few brief words into her Spook set as she moved further away. Of course coming to the section of corridor that contained the door to the inner offices was being watched. As was every other entrance and exit, much to her disappointment. Muttering to herself, she made her way to the kitchen area, dodging around the work being done in the sitting room.

Unlike her mother, she did know a thing or two about the kitchen and what to do with things in it. She waved away offers to get her something from one of the restaurants, and worked on putting together something simple instead. If her count was right, the concert would be coming up soon, and hopefully things would normalize at least a little bit for that. She had no idea who might be attending, but it would be a public enough event that she hoped she could get away more than just sitting quietly being the obedient little girl she was expected to be, and to great extent, had been. A scene? Hopefully not. She just wanted some answers, and to not be stuck in here.

“Any word when my mother will be back?” she asked one of the guards standing just outside the kitchen.

“No, principessa. The meeting has not adjourned. Is there anything else we can assist with?” he replied politely.

She shrugged, turning back inside to finish chopping some vegetables. “Nothing you can, no. Just … have someone let me know when she does get out or back?”

“Of course.”

[Euroslavia]

As the Euroslavian ship approached the Machiavellian Station, it began to take it's usual processes in assuring that the arrival was as smooth as possible. Typical procedure, though a bit more cautious simply because a slip-up here might prove to be a bit embarrassing towards whomever might happen to hear about it. Captain Diem Brown and Lady Destra prepared what they would be bringing aboard the Station, which as they both preferred, was kept to a bare minimum. Neither of them would care to be seen carrying multiple bags full of luxury items when in reality, a good majority of them wouldn't even be used.

Being directed towards the docking area, a smooth arrival was completed and the two gathered their things quickly, while refusing the assistance of the crew of the ship. Both the Captain and Destra were also very ...independent to say the least. And the crew knew better than to protest any decision of theirs.

The trip from Euroslavia to the Station was exciting to say the least. Lady Destra hadn't often been given the chance to escape the mainland and the massive amount of duties that required attention. As much of a political trip this is, it is with hope that the trip can also be a semi-vacation of sorts. There's no doubt that she'll seek out new experiences as well as the potential of new relationships on this trip.

The informality that took place between the Captain and Lady Destra was somewhat disturbing, at least according to the crew on the ship. Destra herself has never been fond of a formal approach; however, it's something that she has become used to, as no one seemed to want to address her in any other way. Lady. Empress. And a multitude of other names. Never her first name. The exception being that the Captain absolutely refused to pay attention to such formalities. With her, the crew of the ship seemed to have a sort of fear of the Captain's wrath if anything had gone wrong. She was very stern and very ...to the point. Proof that opposites can indeed get along, between the Captain and the leader of Euroslavia.

Both of the women left the ship with the necessary luggage that would be needed and attempted to determine where their next destination would be.

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

Euroslavia

Bernardo di Medici, Dominion Trade Minister, stretched and yawned as he waited for their guests to arrive. The area had been largely cleared, and security had the parts that hadn’t been locked down tight. Spook kept him aware of the ship’s progress to docking, so he was ready when the two lovely ladies disembarked – as was the security detail and other station personnel who were on hand should they be needed.

“Lady Destra, Captain Brown, it is a pleasure to have you aboard,” he said expansively as he approached the pair. “Bernardo di Medici, at your service. We have the rooms you requested ready for you at the Rialto – if you would care for some assistance with your luggage? Your arrival was unexpected, but certainly not unwelcome. I hope the trip here at least was a pleasant one.”

[Euroslavia]

Before anything was said, Lady Destra gave the Captain a very small, but possibly noticeable nudge. Mostly for the fact that the Captain would have refused the assistance with the luggage. This was mostly why Lady Destra was to be in charge of diplomatic affairs while the Captain came aboard with her mostly for her protection and to be able to take part in a sort of vacation.

Lady Destra nodded in approval, "Any assistance that could be offered would be greatly appreciated." as she smiled towards Bernardo.

Multiple thoughts raced through Destra's mind. Our arrival was definitely a bit of a surprise I'm sure, given the fact that we haven't exactly been in contact with anyone in a bit of time. I suppose when the time comes, all will be explained. It's probably what I at least owe those who consider Euroslavia an ally.

"The trip here was definitely an experience to say the least. It was one that I really could not pass up. The opportunities here are ones that we would definitely like to explore, on a personal level as well as on a diplomatic level. We'd like to thank you for not forgetting about us and allowing us to arrive here, not to mention the hospitality that has been offered so far. It's all very much appreciated. We can only hope to be able to offer something towards the Dominion that could match what we'll be experiencing."

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

Euroslavia

He snapped his fingers and made a quick gesture, and the personnel stepped forward with a luggage cart to take any of the baggage the ladies wished to allow them to load up, operating quickly and quietly, and with the utmost respect, as Bernardo expected of them.

“My Lady, how could we ever forget you,” he asked, accenting with a mildly flourished bow. “I recall the Imperatrice speaking very highly of you, and your own reputation for hospitality. Hopefully we can to some small degree offer some recompense here. We are of course at your disposal for the duration of your stay. Would you be wishing to settle in, or are you perhaps hungry after your flight? Or would you prefer we send your things on, and simply allow you to see the sights? Whatever you prefer, I’ll be more than happy to make it happen.”

Of course the various departments that could be involved would be contacted to be prepared, now that she’d mentioned at least some possibilities, but in the meantime, he was here to see she was taken care of as well as she would allow.

[Almajoya]

"Oh, don't worry about it..." Jason said acknowledging the concern about interupting and dismissing it in the same breath. He took her hand and shook it, firm but not oppressive in anyway. "And this little fella is Arthur." Arthur bubbled a greeting and decided that he'd rather like to see what it's like to percieve the handshake from the other side so he jumped from Jason onto the shoulder of Melisma.

Jade was surprised at Arthur's jump as well, but she knew Melisma well enough to know what sort of response to expect from her.

"Hello!" Melisma said, smiling at the little creature on her shoulder. She'd seen it in Jason's hands, but would never have guessed that it was animate and especially not that it was sentient. "Arthur, is it? Pleased to meet you, sir."

[Xaipete Benn]

A single visitor, standing wide-eyed in the terminal, was nothing terribly new and didn’t draw terribly much attention, though a passerby did take a moment out of idle kindness to ask.

“Everything ok, sir? First time here can be a bit much. Just head on up to the checkpoint and they’ll get you taken care of. It’s not much of a fuss, really. Once you get through to the station proper, that’s when the real adventure begins.”

Amarandos nodded politely to the helpful passer-by and mumbled to himself,
“Come on fella, get it together…” before striding up to the checkpoint with as much swagger as he could muster. His “swagger” amusingly resembled the first steps that a scarecrow would make, having removed itself from its pole. Despite this, he coped surprisingly well with the security system and managed to produce a quirky smile for the woman scanning his bag.

Card in hand, and officially screened, Amarandos peeled his eyes for the nearest bar. His theory was that if he were to become the man this trip was intended to make him, it should start with a beverage.

Back in Xaipete Benn, Amarandos had lived a very simple life: as a very basic man. He’d spent most of his life reading and learning about people and he had shipped out to University at the first opportunity. He had suprisingly managed to attract some friends along the way and it was these people that had suggested he should “get out more”. In his typically enthusiastic way, Amarandos took this to mean that he should leave the planet. Never one to engage in an academic project half way, he had booked the flight the same day and scheduled his “Sabbatical” from Benn’s University to begin the next month.

Having reached “the next month”, his natural fear of the universe was beginning to kick in but he was determined to drown it in something resembling a Kritter

“I wonder if these bars do custom cocktails?”

[Warhaven]

Far out where the farthest Warhaven ship drifted aimlessly, a long sea serpent looking ship briefly emerged, docked, and then left again.

Minutes later, a pair of newcomers emerged from the warhaven dock.

One was clearly a highborn lady, with the way she was dressed, and carried herself. Her dress was of hand spun silk that seemed to cascade in waves down to the floor. Her long-sleeved blouse was of a fine cotton, found only on one certain world. This cotton was naturally luminous, and when treated, enhanced the sparkle her skin gave off. Her hands were gloved in similar material, but white Nail polish could be seen in places. Her eyes, like her lips and hair, were different shades of lavender. She wore a hat decorated with daisies, and on her arm hung the mahogany handle of a long umbrella, which she appeared to be able to use as a walking aid. Her skin was milky white in complexion, and her head held high, eyes straight ahead. Yes, there was some fine breeding in this lady.

The Gentleman was far older in comparison, for his skin was wrinkled with age. His hair and eyes were Grey, but he wore a solid black business suit with unparalleled perfection. One could tell he was used to wielding large amounts of power, and wasn't afraid to use it. In one hand was a solid black cane made of a shiny material that seemed to be part stone, part diamond, part metal, with a twenty four caret gold top. Not that anyone would dare try to steal it from him, for the rest of his appearance was largely disturbing. His nails were not nails at all, but long sharp claws. Smoke curled from his nostrils, as a tail swept the floor behind him. What at first seemed to be a gray cape, were actually a pair of wings.

One member of security couldn't help but stare at the newcomers, possibly due to inexperience, both with this particular breed of people, and security in general. But then, he was young.

"I am Lord V'halkus. I am the Minister of The Warhaven Bureaucratic Department of Foreign Affairs, which oversees both the Department of Foreign Relations, and the Department of Economics and trade. This young lady beside me is Lady Afrezia. We're looking for my grandson, Sir V'halkus, could you kindly help us find him?" The intimidating elderly man asked kindly, tapping one long incredibly sharp claw in his cane all the while.

If this man was to be believed, which he was, he was second only to the Emperor and his council himself in terms of sheer political power. A word from this man could start and end entire wars, or create trade routes of tremendous wealth and bring poverty to others all in a single breath.

[The Garbage Men]

"Oh, don't worry about it..." Jason said acknowledging the concern about interupting and dismissing it in the same breath. He took her hand and shook it, firm but not oppressive in anyway. "And this little fella is Arthur." Arthur bubbled a greeting and decided that he'd rather like to see what it's like to percieve the handshake from the other side so he jumped from Jason onto the shoulder of Melisma.

Jade was surprised at Arthur's jump as well, but she knew Melisma well enough to know what sort of response to expect from her.

"Hello!" Melisma said, smiling at the little creature on her shoulder. She'd seen it in Jason's hands, but would never have guessed that it was animate and especially not that it was sentient. "Arthur, is it? Pleased to meet you, sir."

Jason quietly breathed a sigh of relief... why did Arthur always had to do things like this? but really it was part of the reason he enjoyed being around the little critter never a dull moment with Arthur.

Speaking of Arthur he bubbled something to Melisma before leaping off her and back onto Jason's shoulder. "He said 'Thanks, the shoulder didn't wobble or anything!'" Jason translated for Melisma and Jade. Arthur seemed to bob slightly, it might of been a nod, or might be the creature excited... or who knows what else, Trash Slimes are quite unusual.

"Well, I have to say, most people would of screamed or something... congratulations, you have passed the Arthur test. You have nerves of steel." adding a chuckle at the end to help smooth over any tension that might of been still there, despite it looking like there wasn't any.

[Almajoya]

Both women smiled at Jason's translation. "He did startle me a bit at first, but he's so cute and lovable," Melisma said. "I bet Jade here adores him."

"I really do," Jade replied. "You should have seen him playing around here earlier. Well, perhaps you'll get to know both Arthur and Jason. Jason here is pretty wonderful himself. How long are you planning to stay?"

"Just a few days, until your next shipment arrives," Melisma answered. "Speaking of which, is there somewhere I can leave my things for now?"

"Yes, I actually have two guest rooms upstairs that you and Clifford can stay in."

"Perfect. I'll be right back. Cliff, stop poking around and bring your stuff upstairs," Melisma commanded. The two of them headed up the stairs.

Jade turned to Jason. "Sorry about that. Mel's a very close friend of mine, who just happens to be the Empress of Almajoya. She hates special treatment, though, so don't treat her like royalty. Anyway, I wasn't expecting her or Clifford to come, though I guess I should have expected Clifford to want to see me succeed or fail firsthand."

[Xaipete Benn]

I wonder if these bars do custom cocktails?”

Amarandos chose himself a bar stool furthest from the door and tried to subtly attract the attention of the bar staff. Despite being ignored, he resolutely refused to utilise any of the usual tricks; raising a hand, leaning forwards, rapping his knuckles on the bar or coughing. In fact, he tried very hard not to cough accidentally, in case the bar staff thought that he was doing it to draw their attention.

Surely, given enough waiting, a young woman approached him, towel slung over her shoulder, and began to speak.

“Welcome, what can I getcha for?”

Amarandos had been practicing what to say since he’d sat down but had rather been focusing his attention on his words than on the mistaken belief that the other bartender would speak to him (so that he’d be spared the humiliation of having to talk to someone attractive.)

“Erm… *cough* …you don’t, ah, perchance, do Kritters, do you?”

[Actaea]

Brice Meyers couldn't take drinks as well as he'd like to. His vision was already starting to blur. He wasn't ready to go, though. Not yet; maybe one or two more, then call it a night...well, sort of, considering where he currently was in the solar system. Brice stood up slowly, removing his glasses to wipe at his eyes, blinking a bit before turning to head to the bar. Waiting for a waiter or waitress again would take too long for him.

Once he reached it, he took a seat on a stool that wasn't too far from where Amarandos was. In fact, they were only one stool away from being next to each other. Before Brice attempted to attract one of the bartenders' attention, he would glance over at Amarandos.

"Mm." He grunted. To Amarandos, it'd probably seem like he was acknowledging his presence. Granted, it wasn't the most polite one, of course, but it was there. Brice then attempted to call one of the bartenders over in, compared to Amarandos' approach, a less discreet fashion, waving him/her over. "Over here, please..." He said.

[Scolopendra]

Wherever they keep the guests of royalty (oooh moving up in the world!):

Nathicana approached the door to their friend's room, a rather quiet Naiya in tow. They'd already discussed leaving certain things alone conversation-wise, and she knew her daughter remained less than pleased ... but still. The Bondayehr's were practically family, and it seemed ages since they'd been able to see them both. Hopefully the visit would perk her up a bit. The Dread Lady knocks firmly, glancing over at Naiya and offering a smile.

"Come in!" say the voices behind the door, in stereo. It's an odd harmony, since Shorty's voice is clearly deeper and yet more feminine than Timofeyev's; such is the way of strange romances.

Naiya activates the door mechanism first, stepping in front of her mother and rushing in to greet two of her favorite people, Nathicana close behind. "Zio Timo, Aunty Shorty - I've missed you," the young woman says, intending to offer each a hug in turn. Nathi smiled and nodded to the pair from behind her daughter. "It is good to see you both."

There is no 'in turn' with the Bondayehrs. The Sky Marshal had grown up with group hugs, and so both practically pounce on the shorter Naiya, wrapping her up in layers of familial hugs. "Naiya!" Exactly which one says it first isn't really that important, and the hugs are extra snuggly as family warrant. Once the ritual is complete, Timofeyev and Shorty step back, practically glowing with smiles. "Well, look at you, Naiya," Tim says, "all grown up and whatnot--even if it's only been a few months since I left, it still must be said."

Naiya smiles up at them both, albeit close-lipped, her eyes a bit bright with all sorts of emotions. "I'm surprised to see you so soon - but I'm glad." Shooting an arch little look her mother's way, she just has to get the jab in. "At least someone notices I'm not just a child." Nathicana sighs and moves to make her own hugs of the pair. "Then let's not spoil the illusion by acting like one now, dear," she quips, then properly greets her friends. "It is very good to see you both. Pleasant trip in, I hope?"

"I guess now wouldn't be the time for a well-intentioned quip about how you'll always be my favorite little niece?" Bondayehr sneaks his own sense of humor in, and gets a gentle 'ret-elbow for his efforts. Shorty takes the charge from there: "As pleasant as always. DSL remains a five-star carrier, and the Combined Services..." She glances down at Tim.

"Jump-capable and all the SEELE"--he says the word the German way, 'zay-lay'--"suits I could want."

Naiya smiles a bit impishly at Bondy's comment all the same. "I don't care so much about 'little' so long as it stays 'favorite'. Are those suits really as weirdly cool as they say?" Nathi nods and smiles in the meantime and lets Naiya do some catching up.

"Yeah, the Ticks force me to wear 'em when I go exploring. Remembering being in them is... well... weird." Timofeyev smirks. "It's like remembering a vivid dream where you're a bird or a dinosaur or something--there are bodily analogues, but it's distinctly different. Luckily though I don't remember in anything mindbending like three-sixty vision--I've meant to ask Shodey about that."

"'Live the adventure,'" the kzinrret quotes the recruiting poster with a quiet hrr-hrr-hrring chuckle.

"You're just jealous," the Sky Marshal retorts.

"That would be ... odd," the girl notes, brow furrowing slightly. "Anything new on this trip out so far? I still think it would be amazing to get out and do some of the things you do, but mama keeps reminding me I have a job to do and all that adventure you guys get to have, isn't it." Of course she's disappointed. She's grown up on stories about her heroic adopted uncle, after all.

"We-ll-ll," he replies with a close-lipped grin, "there may be something in the ol' sea-bag for you. There's no point in playing at being an Age of Sail explorer if I don't occasionally catch things and pickle them in jars, although if alien biology's no longer your speed I've some particularly shiny rocks, soil samples, and bits of flora from the Periphery as well." He smiles gently. "Besides, the 'adventure' is between scads of boredom, paperwork, and managing people so it's not like I'm living a Magnus Hesche comic."

Naiya perks up at the mention of new oddities. "You don't mind showing me," she asks hopefully, while Nathicana just shakes her head and chuckles. Any distraction right now is a good distraction, in her opinion.

"I wouldn't have brought it up, if I weren't willing to share. That'd just be unforgivable." Bondayehr leads his honorary niece over to his olive drab canvas mobility bag.

"And how many of these jars does he keep around the house, dare I ask?" Nathi says, turning to Shorty.

"I think your kids got most of them," Shorty replies to Nathi, "although he's got a few strategically placed here and there." She shrugs fluidly, and flaps her ears with a smile. "At least modern animal-in-jar technology doesn't cause them to bloat at all... and you know some of those animal sculptures you admired on your last visit? They're actually plastinated." On the word 'plastinated' Bondayehr produces from his bag a lizard-sized insect-mollusk thing so treated, followed by something that looks to be between a rat and a fish in a jar, a brilliantly blue mushroom, shards of organic obsidian, and a leaf-collection book.

"I'd have never thought she'd stay as interested as she has over the years, but there you have it. I'm not sure she'll ever truly forgive me for dooming her to a life of politics," Nathi says wryly.

Naiya in the meantime watches Bondayehr closely, her eyes widening with the thrill of seeing Something New as he brings out his finds. "Ooooh ... what do you call the ratfish thing? Or the big buggedy bit? Do you have names for the things you've found, or are you still working on that?"

"Heh... I try, on occasion, but it seems that Kat's names are always catchier." Timofeyev smiles, setting everything neatly on the table. "Given the lizard's shell and tentacles, I'm tempted to call it a snizzardpus just for grins. Ol' ratfish there has me stumped, though... although even 'ratfish' is better than the standard GEC designation catalog. Planet-discoverer-year-number... and as most Periphery planets' official names are just alphanumeric codes... so dull."

Shorty shakes her head good-naturedly at the Dread Lady. "That's what you get for instituting hereditary rule. I hate to say 'I told you so,' but..." Smiling, she watches her consort and her honorary niece dabble in exobiology. "Of course, you know Tim's tendency towards waiving the kits away from the family business. Kat's interest in armor worries him, of course."

"Mmm. Kat really does have a way with that, doesn't she? I hope she's and Kit are having a good time on that trip. I wish I could have gone, but..." She trails off deliberately, focusing very much on the strange new items and not on her mother. "You shouldn't fuss so much, Zio Tim. Kat is amazing at building things, and not letting her or Kit follow where they'd like, well - no one likes to get voluntold, yes? Every parent wants their kids to be safe, but you've got to let them grow up too."

"Eh, trip?" The Sky Marshal is admittedly caught off guard, but is quickly pulled back onto the tracks. "Eh, parents always want to protect their children to some degree, no matter how old they get. It's part of the evolutionary makeup, after all. Considering that my military experience hasn't been all fun and games, well, I wish better for her. She'll be free to make her own decisions soon enough and I'll support them, but I won't have to like them. Just like my parents didn't like me going into the service." He shrugs eloquently. "Shikata ga nai."

Nathicana nods to Shorty, ignoring the bait her daughter is putting out for her to latch onto. "I know, and you're right, but it would be a damn shame to let all that hard work go to waste."

Shorty glances over at the Dread Lady and shakes her head with a quiet chuckle. "We'll have to agree to disagree, then, as always. As long as she's happy and healthy nothing is wasted."

Naiya tactfully avoids more talk of any 'trips', giving Shorty a quick apologetic glance in between further investigation of currently, the booklet of leaves. "Don't get me wrong," she answers. "You two really are amazing parents, and I'm not meaning to criticize. I guess just meant not to worry so much. Both Kit and Kat have grown up solid, with two loving parents who've taught them a lot."

The imperatrice smiles and shrugs. "Healthy, yes. Happy, usually, though not too much so with me of late. I do agree with her on the kits though - you've raised a fine pair between you." Again, refusing to rise to the bait, though the corner of her mouth twitches.

Bondayehr glances back at Shorty--mostly--and they have a quick nonverbal discussion, without resorting to any sort of headware or anything more advanced than understanding each other much too well. They nod slightly at each other in agreement and the Sky Marshal enters the breach. "Yeah, about that... I've heard you two have had a guest recently and, since the station's still here, it went better than I'd worried at first. Since I'm no doctor and only know enough about opening fresh wounds to set them aright before they scar over, is there anything you guys would like to talk about?"

Naiya affects a mildly aloof expression as she continues to examine Bondy's discoveries, and Nathicana sighs before beginning to explain. "Yes, rather unexpected, that. We still haven't had the opportunity to really ... come to grips with it all. Some of us are doing better with it than others."

"He isn't a monster, you know," Naiya says defensively, and Nathi just holds up her hands to forestall any sort of argument in that direction. "Anyway, yes. Seems I have a father after all, and he actually wants the job. I don't expect anyone to understand, but there it is."

"Well, at least we've aired that out." Bondayehr smiles his traditional wry smile, softened a bit by age. Whether it be fatigue or wisdom... that can be anyone's guess. "Understanding... well, I'm sure at least two of us commiserate and the remainder may understand a bit more than it cares to admit." He glances momentarily towards Nathi, knowing her history all too well. "Since we're all among loving family who occasionally disagree as to how that love should be shown, though, we can probably forgive the occasional well-meaning but poorly-received gesture. Fanged God knows we've all had to do plenty of forgiving one way or another." The ball gets passed to Shorty with a flick of the eyes and a curl of the lip. "After all," she adjoins, "we're always around if you want to talk." Her diplomatic experience makes it pretty obvious her use of 'you' is pretty broad.

Nathicana relaxes her guard and her front a bit as the pair speak, and for once, she simply looks tired. The recent events had taken their toll, and in spite of her worry of letting things out that shouldn't be, what she didn't want was increased distance between her and her daughter. "You know we all appreciate that," she says quietly, sincerely. "This is most likely not going to be easy."

"With you all, what is?" Shorty reaches out and hugs Nathi around the shoulder, jocularly shaking her around a little. Timofeyev does similar with Naiya and takes up the second front. "Chin up, troopers--it's time to adapt and overcome, and it's your two favorite meddlesome idealists come to do their part. After all, remember your Nietzsche--what doesn't kill us..."

Naiya looks like there is plenty she'd like to say, but glancing at her mother, she thinks better of it, for now. She instead nods in agreement with the statements made, and gently puts down the book she's been looking at. "Some things I'm not so sure are easily forgiven," she says, and leaves it at that. "I take it you're here for the concert, then?"

He nods to Naiya. "Yup, that's the official party line. I get to represent the Ticks at the symbolic end of hostilities... how's that for parallelism, hm? Some things aren't easily forgiven but we have to anyway to soldier on."

Nathi returns the hug with a wry little smile, and Naiya leans in against Bondy, perhaps more needfully than she originally intends. "I wouldn't expect any big family reunions, but don't be surprised to seesome odd combinations in company for the next while," Nathi says. "As for the event and all ... who knows. You might get along with Konrad surprisingly well. Devon seems to have, in spite of his opinions there. Nadia is a bit of a spitfire, and damnably protective of her husband, but she's got nerve - I'll give her that. You'll be in as good a position as any to judge the validity of claims to 'change' and direction, Tim. The both of you, actually - Shorty, you've always had a way with seeing a situation clearly. I just hope it all pans out in the end. I think we could all use the peace of mind." Obviously, it wasn't just the Ardan situation she was referring to, and she was sure they all knew it.

"I've just returned from the far-flung wilderness, and so if revelationary writing is any indication, I should be pretty good to be able to look at things with fresh eyes." Bondayehr grins, albeit with lips firmly closed in the Scolopendran way. He makes sure he's there for Naiya, just like he always has when he could. Shorty, for her part, nods. "Normally I'd be here to get a feel for the diplomatic situation, but the SupEmp is on her way and probably the IntRelate Advisor too. That should give me more freedom for more personal matters."

"I admit, I miss the 'old crew'," Nathi says hesitantly. "Not to suggest present leadership is incapable, but I'm afraid I'm a bit biased that way. It would be nice if a visit out here weren't in some way 'business-related'. I'd think you've had enough of that to last a lifetime, Tim. I'll tell you now, I think things are on the level. I wouldn't be going to any of this effort if I didn't. And I think it will benefit us all in the end. And I really hope you both get to enjoy your time up here in the meantime. Lord knows you two deserve a bit of a vacation, just the two of you."

Naiya puts her arm around Bondayehr's waist and gives him a quiet hug, still leaning in against him because sometimes that's all that's really needed, and perhaps that's enough of an indication of thanks for now.

"Filthy democrats, remember," Timofeyev says with a wink. "That the Elders are undoubtedly living legends and arguably political gods are exactly why they got out of the business. Besides, what's wrong with Supreme Emperor Mballa 'the Iron Duchess' Ipolla? You two have your similarities, I'd think that you'd get along quite well... except when you disagree... which is probably pretty often. That and she's probably not as huggable as Speeks was." He teases. Yes he does.

Nathicana shakes her head and chuckles. "Fuzzyb...No, Speeks she isn't, and though I respect his reasonings, I still think it was a damn shame to see him step down. And no, she isn't as huggable," she continued archly. "But then as you can surely attest, few are as huggable as our kzinti freinds. Filthy democrats or not."

Shorty squeezes Nathi's shoulder in a hug, since she can tease too. Bondayehr simply shrugs. "I certainly cannot dispute that. Still, I'd be surprised if you didn't invite His Holiness over to watch the symbolic end of the conflict he more or less ran for a good chunk of his career, so it's not like he's gone."

"I've no idea who all can attend, but I did try to cover all bases," Nathi says, hugging back in rather like kind, albeit lower due to her own damned shortness of stature. "I wish I could take credit for anything but hosting - it would be quite the coup. As it stands, I like to believe all their years of service and hard work are just finally paying off. And if that's the case, my own small part in being the sometimes worrisome point of contact was worth it as well." All that had involved was best left unsaid, and so, it was.

"Anyway, I'm sure there'll be plenty of shop talk at the event." Bondayehr gives his sort-of-niece another hug. "Other than that which need not be said at the moment, what else is going on with my favorite cadre of despots?"

"Marcus is down in Devonton learning things," Naiya offers, hugging back as she says it. "He's old enough now that he has been including him in on more things, and I've gotten to see him less." Nathi ponders the wisdom of bringing up the 'new not-so-little addition' to the already odd family, then decides Devon can bring it up when he has a chance. "I think the most 'excitement' we've had has revolved around the station of late. Although one of the mares at home is expecting - I know Naiya's wanted to be there for that."

"Oh? Which one?"

"The gray Andalusian - Bianca. My stallion, Shaitan is the sire," Naiya interjects proudly. "I was thinking of letting Kat help name the foal when she... well, next time she's over."

"Are you sure that's wise?" The kzinrret says, teasing. "I love my Kat to death, but you're running a chance of the name either being sublime or absolutely silly... or, quite possibly, both at the same time."

"Well," Naiya says in a conspiratory sort of tone, "It would definitely be interesting, and it'd be for the books, so we could nickname it anything we--"

Bondayehr quirks an eyebrow. "That's the third time something about my kids has let slip."

The young woman shoots a quick look over at Timofeyev, then glances back at Shorty before continuing, a little lamely. "Well, it's just that with all the things going on lately, we haven't seen each other for a while..."

"Uh huh." Timofeyev gives Naiya the look. "How does someone sprung from the loins of the Dread Lady over there be so bad at obfuscating the truth?" He's joking, of course. After a fashion. The look is involved, of course, and he's not prone to it.

"That would probably be because I don't like obfuscating with you guys," Naiya says shiftily. "I'm quite good at doing it when I want to, or mama would have found out all those things Marcus and I and the kits got away with when we were younger." The last comes out with about as much pride as challenge, which makes Nathi's brows arch up.

"Don't change the subject, young lady, you've already been made," says the Sky Marshal. "Out with it."

Nathi gives her daughter a stern look, putting one hand on her hip. "You heard the man. What have you all been up to this time?" Meanwhile, Shorty does a pretty good job of pretending not to be where she is right now.

Naiya sighs, going over and picking up the ratfish and looking at it very intently. "We ... may have told them about a hunting expedition," she begins, still studying the odd creature.

"Okay. What might this very theoretical hunting expedition be hunting, where might it possibly be were it to exist, and when might they be back, assuming of course that they have indeed left and aren't playing video games back at the palazzo."

"It might be sponsored by the Roanians, and it might be the better part of a week, and it might be to hunt some alien big beasties on some of their occupied worlds, and it might be with a bunch of other international teen sorts and might be overseen by a bona-fide huntmaster, if indeed they aren't playing video games back at the palazzo, which they very well may be," Naiya offers while still studiously examining the ratfish.

"So, operating on the assumption in this hypothetical that you love my kits very much and would be very sad if anything"--the word drips--"were to happen to them, much as I would be, you would never recommend anything over a perfectly manageable level of danger and thus I would have absolutely no reason whatsoever to worry if such a thing did indeed come to pass?"

Naiya's shoulders scrunch up a little as he speaks, and she finds that there are absolutely amazing details on this ratfish if one looks closely enough. "Oh, there is no doubt that hypothetical or not, I absolutely love those kits and would definitely not want anything bad to happen at all... so it's probably a very good thing that we're talking in mights, yes?" She turns and gives Timofeyev a guilty little sidelong look.

The Dread Lady puts her other hand on her hip and frowns mightlily, one foot tapping slowly.

The man who commands more than enough military might to burn the Dominion down to the mantle should the multiverse go (more) mad smiles. It'd be a disarming gesture coming from anyone else, but it shows a bit of teeth. "It's an excellent thing we're talking in mights, my dear." He thinks for a moment. "Since I am looking very much forward to hugging my kits after my latest cruise elapses because I love. Them. So. Much. The sort of love that moves worlds, much less mountains." He glances up at Shorty, having unconsciously loomed most effectively over Naiya. "I see you pretending you don't exist over there. I'll deal with you later."

Raising up, he smiles like a snake and claps his hands together. "Who's hungry?"

"Aunty Shorty ... you might want to hide the keys to his carrier," Naiya whispers.

Nathicana clears her throat softly, then tentatively answers the Sky Marshal. "Perhaps that's a good idea."

Shorty raises her hands, palms up in the universal 'what can I do?' expression. "What? Me? I've got no authority over a Sky Marshal of the TYCS. I'm pretty sure those things don't have keys anyway... and why would I ever want to take them? Yes, food would be wonderful!"

Naiya carefully puts the ratfish down and scampers over to her mother, who is looking none to pleased with her daughter at the moment, but still seems the more prudent choice all things considered. Nathi, meanwhile, continues looking none too pleased with her daughter, and makes a suggestion. "Name your preference, and it's on me - the least I can do considering Naiya might have caused some trouble."

Bondayehr grins. "Aw, you sure, Nathi? You sure have some expensive places around here."

[Dargonese]

On the outskirts of Dominion territory around Machiavelli Station a gravimetric pulse oscillates briefly through several spectrums as the warp bubble enclosing the Dargonese Light Cruiser Kapata-Mundi collapses, ejecting the vessel back into real space. Normally they would approach closer, but this was a polite nod to the Dominions security forces, the vessel that exited was of the normal Kesserat design, but carried the striking blue and azure markings denoting a ship grown and brought up in the Sol system, one of a growing number.



Halon Thane stood on the bridge alongside the ships Link Commander, occasionally murmuring suggestions and encouragement, both the ship and the crew were young, and this high profile assignment outside of Dargonese space after their long self imposed isolation had their levels of excitement almost touching fever pitch. Ambassador Thane simply smiled and shook his head, the excitement would soon peter off when they found out how boring it might be, however, right now as a senior link commander in his own right, he couldn’t help but send the occasional correction through his tendrils to the junior officer in front of him, wouldn’t do to make a bad impression now would it?
Halon Thane was of a new breed of ambassadors, specially cultured in dealing with the myriad of races and societies that dotted the Sol system, his training had been hard, and this assignment would be something of a baptism by fire, he had a lot to do, re establishing old friendships and opening new ones.

“Commander, open transmissions to Starbase Machiavelli,”

There was a moment’s pause as the ship sent a comms pulse carrying the vessels designation, a few seconds later and a link up was established, the real wait that caused Halon to pinch the bridge of his nose was when faced with communicating with its first non Dargonese computer, the juvenile ship bombarded it with a myriad of questions, it took a good couple of minutes for the link commander to bring it back under control, whereupon Ambassador Thane stood before the screen.
He was unusual for a Dargonese in the fact he had striking red hair that cascaded down his back, and instead of the usual gold eyes, spheres of pure platinum glanced with unerring sharpness and intelligence towards the face on the screen, four tendrils each covered with short but silky red fur flickered slightly, two from his forehead, and two from the back of his neck. Carefully he calmed his agitation at the vessels enthusiasm and addressed the station.

“Starbase Machiavelli, this is Ambassador Halon Thane of the family Thane under the Family Karinth of the Dargonese empire, requesting permission to bring the vessel Kapata-Mundi within your docking sphere and come onboard as representative of the Empire.”

[Xaipete Benn]

"Mm." He grunted. To Amarandos, it'd probably seem like he was acknowledging his presence. Granted, it wasn't the most polite one, of course, but it was there. Brice then attempted to call one of the bartenders over in, compared to Amarandos' approach, a less discreet fashion, waving him/her over. "Over here, please..." He said.

Peturbed somewhat by his bar-fellow's efficiency, however crude, Amarandos was greeted by a look of utter confusion from the young woman standing in front of him so he proceeded to explain.

"errr...well, take some liquor..erm...H2O and add a bit of citrus, shake it in something made of Iron and then add 2ml pure ethanol."

The woman said nothing but seemed to be following his instructions, so Amo smiled. In the spirit of his trip, he also switched seats so he was now sat next to his crudely efficient new acquaintance.

[Warhaven]

Lord V'halkus got the information he needed to find his grandson, and proceeded to fill out the security cards for the young lady and himself.

For the young lady, Lady Afrezia, he simply put down the ability to turn into a Celestial Dragon in the cold depths of space.

Then he steeled himself, and filled out his own, and that took several minutes.

The skills section looked like this:

"Human form: Fire Breath (Indicated by the smoke curling out my nose), Flight, Long claws capable of ripping through most forms of armor, hardened scales growing throughout my flesh, Half Dragon Atmospheric transformation.

Half Dragon form: Explosive fire breath (Minimum blast radius of fifty foot per fireball, Maximum possible blast radius 200 feet.) Sonic Flight, Claws capable of rending through the first few layers of most starships, hardened impenetrable scales, extended and heightened senses, faster movement speed, if charged near a star for three days then Atomic fire breath gained for one breath.

Put under oath to not attack anyone, unless provoked, by the Warhaven Department of The Military."

The Security officer inputting the information seemed thoroughly terrified of Lord V'halkus.

"Umm, if you don't mind me asking sir, how come of the three members of your species onboard, your a one man army and their barely more annoying than a fly?" the young lad asked.

"Simple, Our species undergoes three separate puberties. The first is mandated by nature, and I seem to recall this is true of most species, not just our own. However, our species has two optional puberties. The first optional one is experienced when you have children, male or female. If you don't want to go through it, don't have children. The last one isn't up to you. If your children have children of their own, you go through the third puberty. Each puberty gives you more power, making you more dangerous. I went through my third puberty at the age of 20,000 years old. That is of course, translating our time to human time. If I were to give a guess in our time, I'd have to say, about 45 years old, as you would understand it. I'm sixty now, or about thirty thousand years old. But translating our times is inexact. Now, if I were to challenge and defeat the king of the Celestial Dragons, Lord Bahamut, I'd undergo a fourth transformation, but no one knows precisely what his powers are."

"Wow." the young man said, impressed.

The pair walked off.

Once more one could clearly see Lady Afrezia high grooming. Her walk was so gracefull she could've carried a ceramic pot on top of a stack of books and not one item would have moved the slightest bit out of place. She seemed to glide across the floor.

She was left waiting in a public bar, one of the better establishments, while Lord V'halkus went off looking for his grandson.

OOC: If someone wants interaction with either party, feel free.

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

Warhaven

Regardless of stature, dress, mannerisms, or airs, visitors were all greeted by a professional group of security and station personnel who while surprised now and then by some of the oddities that might come up, were rarely wide-eyed or stammering over their guests. Cards were indeed given out as needed, and after the information requested was taken, and apparently assistance not required by the pair, they were of course allowed to pass.

Directions were easily had on board, so finding one’s way around would not be too difficult. There on the main hub, whatever level, security was still tight, and while people were allowed to go their way unmolested, the chance of some vagrant causing trouble for any one of the many guests making their way through the various attractions or high-ceilinged walkways was slim to none – unless the guests themselves chose to cause some trouble. Clearly, they intended to deal with things quickly and efficiently, especially with so many high-ranking guests aboard.

--- --- ---

Dargonese

The fleet took notice of the new ship as it entered real space, information banks accessed and whatever data available on it quickly brought to the forefront and passed on to station proper. Unfortunately, there was little to be had. All the same, new contacts were always welcome, and a message to that point was soon returned.

Ambassador Thane, you and your ship have permission to proceed along the following coordinates to docking gate Alpha, level five. Oh behalf of Machiavelli and the Dominion, we welcome you to our station, and hope that we can be of service during your visit. Those entering the station will be required to identify themselves and register any weapons with security. You are entitled to your protection while aboard of course, we simply wish to keep track of who has what and where. Any additional arrangements can be made after disembarking, and a station representative will be on hand to greet you. Coordinates to follow.

As usual, one of the Dominion ships trailed along to escort the Kapata-Mundi in, assuring both its safety, and that of the other ships coming and going.

Waiting for the newcomers was one Nicodemo La Rocca – a tall gentleman, with clean-cut brown hair and neatly trimmed goatee and mustache, and sharp dark brown eyes that scanned the docks for their new guests.

[Actaea]

Crudely efficient he was, apparently. Hearing Amarandos make his order, he seemed to roll his eyes right then. The male bartender walked up to take his order. "Hey. What can I get ya?" The bartender asked.

Brice shifted a bit in his seat before proceeding to order a glass of Pacifico. The bartender nodded and turned back to retrieve it for him. As he did so, Brice glanced over at Amarandos again with a neutral expression. For Amarandos, it probably would've been hard to tell just what Brice was thinking of him right then.

"You're too specific," He said with a low, even voice, expression unchanging. "They're called brands, you know."

------

Hal had already checked into the hotel. His room was set, his luggage was unpacked, and he was ready to head on around the station. As he walked through one of the main hubs on the station, still carrying his backpack and wearing his clothes from before, he wondered; where should he go next?

Shopping was an option; surely, they had many useful items for sale in one of the many shops on station. Sightseeing was a viable option as well. Then Hal remembered that he was, in a way, alone on the station. He needed to find someone It was always advantageous to get to know someone in a foreign area.

The question was who would even bother with him...well, there were thousands of people on the station, there had to be someone here willing to help him out. In any case, he decided to start by trying to find a store, though the sheer size of the hub and the amount of people traveling through it probably would have complicated the matter.

[The Weegies]

The office space was a little dingy, Danny reflected, but nothing that couldn't be brightened up for the arrival of the rest of the staff. Except for Winifred's area, which would probably be made even dingier and surrounded by papers, remnants of old meals and odd fragments of pottery. There was always pottery. The woman from the Station had really helped them, although he noticed her and Winifred giving him some conspiratorial, mildly giggily looks at him after Winifred had finished her teasing.

"I think this is all rather good, really." said Winifred, just coming out of what would become the finds lab. "I mean, it's no WAST HQ, but that building was absurdly light and airy. So many bloody windows peeking in on folk whilst you were trying to work. You don't need all that faff just to do good archaeology. Have you checked the living space? You were away for a while."

"Yeah, I did." replied Danny. "It's not des res or anything like that, but it's big enough. It'll suit me fine; I lived in smaller lodgings back when I was studying in Mackintosh Uni. I'm sure most of our academics will feel the same; poky wee rooms are our forte, aren't they?"

"That's true enough." said Winifred, scratching her face in mild bemusement. "Well, we can't do much until our stuff starts to arrive. I've already messaged HQ to send up stuff so we can set it up, and then people after that. And then the real fun begins." She grinned broadly, savoring the anticipation of finding new worlds to explore, new pasts to uncover. "So, let's go what we Islanders do best."

"Have minor riots over trivial political matters?" said Danny in his best mock-puzzled tone

There was a sarcastic look peering over Winifred's glasses.

Danny shrugged. "Aye, aye, alright. Let's find a bar."

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

The bar was attractively, obviously expensively, designed, and seemed to invite the two Weegies in with understated sophistication. If it had a mind, it would have regretted this state of affairs. Having tried (and failed) to get the kinds of Weegie spirits that were most akin to rocket fuel than any sensible drink, they settled for whisky. A lot of whisky. By this point, Winifred and Danny had become a bit of a focal point for the other customers in the bar, who were distracted somewhat from their conversations or solitary drinking, in the case of a couple of poor souls. They had exclaimed loudly about how much they enjoyed the Machiavelli Station, "specially this bit". Winifred had pinched the bartender's cheek and winked at him, which seemed to leave the bartender somewhat shellshocked and retreating in the wine cellar, Danny had said "hawsitgaunpal" cheerfully to every person he passed on the way to the toilet, they had toasted the other customers heartily, if incomprehensibly, and they had both begun conversing (and singing) rapidly in Weegie. Most of the songs, if people had understood them, were very rude. Especially the one about the wheelbarrow.

(OOC: This is, of course, a tentative attempt to join some of the other people who find themselves in bars.)

[Xaipete Benn]

"You're too specific," He said with a low, even voice, expression unchanging. "They're called brands, you know."

Amarandos was used to being called out on his social ignorance and where most would be offended at the insinuation, decided to take advantage of the opening in conversation.

“Excuse me, sir, erm…. if it’s not too much of an imposition…erm…what would you call the beverage I just ordered?”

Petrified that this confident fellow was going to wallop him over the head with his own arm, Amarandos decided to say nothing more and waited, staring down at the surface of the bar.

He tried to focus on some of the swirls in the marble and follow them around with his finger to pass the time, but they kept moving away from him. It took him a good two minutes to realise that the top three inches of the bar surface was a tank filled with eel jelly and, rather appropriately, eels. When this realisation struck him, he sat up suddenly, and quite involuntarily – just in time for the bartender to slide his drink in front of his chest.

“But does it have a name?”

Amo muttered this to himself, keeping his head facing down towards his drink but hoping that he would be overheard and answered.

[The Garbage Men]

Both women smiled at Jason's translation. "He did startle me a bit at first, but he's so cute and lovable," Melisma said. "I bet Jade here adores him."

"I really do," Jade replied. "You should have seen him playing around here earlier. Well, perhaps you'll get to know both Arthur and Jason. Jason here is pretty wonderful himself. How long are you planning to stay?"

"Just a few days, until your next shipment arrives," Melisma answered. "Speaking of which, is there somewhere I can leave my things for now?"

"Yes, I actually have two guest rooms upstairs that you and Clifford can stay in."

"Perfect. I'll be right back. Cliff, stop poking around and bring your stuff upstairs," Melisma commanded. The two of them headed up the stairs.

Jade turned to Jason. "Sorry about that. Mel's a very close friend of mine, who just happens to be the Empress of Almajoya. She hates special treatment, though, so don't treat her like royalty. Anyway, I wasn't expecting her or Clifford to come, though I guess I should have expected Clifford to want to see me succeed or fail firsthand."

"I'll make sure to remember that." Jason commented about Melisma, though his mind was still trying to wrap itself around "Jason here is pretty wonderful himself." was she coming on to him? Anyway it was time to get back to the matter at hand, he got right down to it. "Do you want me to stay? I mean I don't want to be a third wheel with your catching up with your old friends but also it would be good to get to know them as well."

[The Weegies]

“But does it have a name?”

Amo muttered this to himself, keeping his head facing down towards his drink but hoping that he would be overheard and answered.

Danny had overheard the muttering, and leant over the stool separating him from the glum-looking man, and tapped his shoulder. The man seemed apprehensive, almost as if he expected the slightly-swaying Danny to punch him in the face. Danny smiled a crooked, drunken smile, his head marinated in fine whisky.

"Ah'd call it "A Waste Ae Guid Alkyhol" masel, pal." Behind him, Winifred snorted into her large and ungainly cocktail. "But then ah've always been tradishunul tha' way, aye? Mostly take ma spirits straight." He gestures behind him at Winifred, who waves, her mouth at the curly straw added in a vain attempt at festivity. "This wan's ontae the weird syrupy things wi' the funny names." He craned his neck over his shoulder. "Haw, Fred, whas's tha' wan calt?

"A "Spurting Wobbler"."

"A "Spurtin' Wobbler." Aw man, tha's just wrang. Get tha' image oot ma heid the now." Danny turns back to the man, and proffers his hand. "Ma name's Danny Rowan. How's it gaun, pal? Ye look as if somewan's jist ran aff wi' yer signiff... siginn... bit oan the side."

[Xaipete Benn]

“Erm, thanks, erm…hello. I’m, ahh…Professor Amarandos Elohim, from the Diarchic Geniocracy of the Supreme Xaipete and the Awesome Benn. I’m er, on sabbatical. It’s urr…nice to meet you Danny”

Amarandos said this last part very slowly and at a slightly louder volume than he usually would, partly because he thought that he would be understood better and partly because he couldn’t remember if he’d automatically translated the man’s words, or if he was speaking a universal language.

By the time Amo had released all of his words, he realised that Danny was just a bit drunk, and internally kicked himself for his stupidity.

Realising he was in a daydream again, the Professor decided that he should probably say something and muttered “no, erm, no ‘other half’ I’m afraid…and the lady?…does erm…does she have a name?…ehem” Amo coughed nervously at himself for being so forward and in so doing, leant back on his stool, making himself wobble slightly.

[Warhaven]

Lady Afrezia moved to the bar near the two weegies. She didn't really want to be near them, but it seemed the safest spot from wandering hands. She took a seat and turned to face the bartender when he wasn't busy.

"I beg your pardon sir, but might I have a small cup of your strongest whiskey?" She asked in a gentle voice. It seemed as if she could bring no harm to anyone, and those near her caught the slightest hint of lilacs.

"A shot madam, its called a shot of whiskey." the bartender replied.

"But whatever would you shoot me for? Has there been some dire offense that I am not aware of?" she asked positively mortified at the thought of getting shot here in the bar.

"I, you know, I think I mistook you for someone else. You're right, a small cup of whiskey it is." the bartender said, and got her a shot glass of whiskey.

This she downed in a gulp, and then looked at the bartender somewhat embarrassed.

"Perhaps a large mug of whiskey then." she replied as she blushed.

"I see, planning on drinking yourself into a stupor? I'll need payment now then."

As the woman pulled out the money, she informed him of the truth.

"I'm afraid I've given you the wrong impression. My physiology is different. While water is ok, whiskey is more beneficial to my health. I'm not Humanoid or any similar such species. I couldn't get drunk off this little amount of whiskey if I tried."

"If you can drink this entire mug without getting drunk, its on the house." the bartender said with a smile doubting her words.

Lady Afrezia looked at the frothing tankard with a smile.

"Deal." she said, cracking the facade of unapproachable nobility just a little.

[Almajoya]

"I'll make sure to remember that." Jason commented about Melisma, though his mind was still trying to wrap itself around "Jason here is pretty wonderful himself." was she coming on to him? Anyway it was time to get back to the matter at hand, he got right down to it. "Do you want me to stay? I mean I don't want to be a third wheel with your catching up with your old friends but also it would be good to get to know them as well."

"I'd like for you to stay," Jade answered, "at least for a while. Mel and I can catch up later, and I'm sure Cliff just wants to talk logistics.

"Anyway, I think we were talking about things we enjoy. Are you a fan of music? I am, but I don't get out to listen to live music enough."