Requiem for a Monster

[The Most Glorious Hack]

The ride was, well, relaxing. Or as relaxing as flying to such a grim affair could be. Calvin had to hand it to the Caloris... ians? -ites? Basiners? It seemed odd that nobody had come up with a word for them. Of course, since there were only about half a dozen of them, he supposed it didn't much matter.

He had to hand it to Habakkuk (there, good enough), the AI knew how to fly, and knew how to build a ship, even if the LiME had little concept of comfort. After what seemed like only minutes, they were approaching their destination. Moments later came the landing.

Calvin sighed a little as he re-squared his hat and disembarked with Habakkuk; he never much cared for social or political gatherings (despite being an ambassador, oddly enough), but one attended to one's duties, regardless of discomfort. Being professional is always Proper, after all.

[Northrop-Grumman]

Cesare - Siri

Ah yes, the Dominion. Siri and the rest of the government’s leadership had been extremely grateful for their monetary and military assistance during their recent troubles that allowed them to get the religious strife under some measure of control and allow them a little breathing room to get a handle on their budgetary issues. Some progress had been made in both regards, thankfully, but like most situations, it would seem, any meaningful reform would take time, much time.

“Chancellor,” she bowed her head in return and then grasped his hand firmly. “It’s an honor to be here; though I certainly wish it was under better circumstances.” She frowned some at her own remark.

“The trip? Could have been better. Could have been worse. It was better than being hauled across the ocean in an unheated military cargo plane in the middle of winter, but that shuttle has seen better days…” Way better days, in all actuality. The forty-some year old vessel was hauled out of long-term storage a few months ago, because it was cheaper to run and less fancy than their previous shuttle, which had been stripped down and used for parts for more important things, she neglected to say.

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

Nathicana - Tsaraine

"Not to worry, Serrakhen. I believe Marcus has plenty of other beverages that won't incapacitate on hand," Nathi replied first to the gentleman as the server fetched Rene her requested drink. Hospitality was an inborn trait with Dominion natives, and settling into that role helped her keep her focus away from less pleasant thoughts.

"That was a phrase he picked up from one of his oldest mentors, I believe," she then said to Rene, gesturing to a spot where they could all sit down if they chose. "And I grant you, he accomplished a great deal. I doubt I'd have come to know him as well as I did had he not. We have a long history, he and I. And it wasn't always at the level of equal footing."

She couldn't help but smile a bit, remembering some of those old days. Even his sudden reappearance at another couple's engagement party, egging on the man she'd chosen to tie herself to in the process, was no longer a source of irritation. Not now.

"He certainly had a way of getting under one's skin, for good or bad. Tenacity, bone-stubbornness ... wouldn't have been himself without them."

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

Cesare - Siri

"That simply won't do," the older gentleman said, returning the handshake, then flagging down one of the servers. "You need only ask, you know. I'm sure Marcus has technicians on hand who could take a look while you're here. At the very least, the Imperatrice would not doubt ask you to accompany us."

Of course he kept his voice quiet, intended for discussion just between the two of them, not drawing any undue attention. Every nation had its periods of unrest and relative instability. It was an honor to be in a position to assist when one could, knowing all too well how fortunes could change.

"The circumstances could be better, granted. But one has to admit, the man accomplished a great deal. More than I would have thought. He was an excellent adversary on the points we differed on, and a steadfast ally on those where we saw eye to eye. He will be missed."

"In the meantime, how is your family, your husband? I hope the well-earned retirement suits him?" Cesare said, accepting glass of wine from the server and arching a brow to Siri, should she wish to partake of any of the offerings.

[Northrop-Grumman]

Cesare - Siri

The elf waved off the offer for assistance both vocally and physically with a wave of her hand. “Thank you,” she replied graciously. “But I shall have to decline. It’s nothing that cannot wait to be fixed until I get back, and I think…he has more important things to be concerned about than technical troubles.”

Siri listened to the man’s remarks regarding Devon and frowned a little to herself; she had never gotten to know the man personally all that well. Most of her interaction with him had been more leader-to-leader than anything else, which was admittedly regrettable. But there was nothing that could be done about that now, was there? “That much I can agree on. From building his own nation up to founding the NDA and beyond. The man was most certainly an effective leader and had accomplished a great deal. I wish I could have gotten to know him better than I had.”

She welcomed the wine and took a glass, nodding politely with a thank you and a slight smile. “Family is actually doing fairly well, all in all. My husband appears to be focusing the majority of his energies on doing things that he apparently never had the opportunity to do while he was in office.” A warmer smile appeared from being glad that he could relax and not have the stresses of work housing him. “I’m not sure what in particular he is up to – my responsibilities keep me busy enough as is – but I can imagine that he has been planning for this for a while now. From what I recall this must be the fourth or fifth time he’s attempted to retire so he’s hell-bent on either making it stick or making the most of his time.”

[Treznor]

Marcus found it easier to function when he had a task at hand. Greeting his guests accomplished that goal better than he expected, and as everyone expressed their sympathy for his loss he took a personal interest in each party's needs for food or drink. Drudge Hillann and his party were unknowns but Ben's people were busy compiling a dossier on them. The Sakkrans and Reploids were known quantities even though he'd not yet had the opportunity to meet the legendary Firefury or the equally legendary Kraah who featured prominently in many of his father's tales. He made time for Henry's girls, kneeling down to speak with them and make sure they didn't feel left out. Trevor Desorté was another unknown to him, only tangentially connected through the Dominion although he recalled an old security report involving a slime creature in Chez Treznor on Machiavelli station. He found Siri O'Neill more than a little daunting in her severe black dress but he appreciated the effort she took to follow protocol. Rene Seingult was another figure out of his father's legends, a staunch ally who was ruthless at the negotiating table. Habakkuk was a genuine surprise as his father hadn't shared much with him other than to credit the old ally for a great deal of the Empire's success. King Owen seemed a touchy prickly and difficult to engage, so Marcus did his best to inquire after the needs of him and his stately wife and let the older man drive the conversation as he chose.

Marcus felt like he was circling a whirlwind, never resting for a moment but introducing those who hadn't met each other and reaching out to old friends of his father's, allies he hoped to make friends for himself. The library was normally a spacious place but at the moment it felt cozy. He felt himself unwinding a little more. He took a deep breath and prepared to make the rounds again, eagerly engaging his guests and through them getting to know his father better than he had before. They had so many stories that he hadn't heard, stories there hadn't been time to tell.

"Kraah," he called as he lifted a platter of roast chicken and took a bite from its thigh. "My father told me that you and he had an old tradition."

[Reploid Productions]

Firefury & Tsume - Trevor Desorté

"Yeah, mortality happens." The orange reploid's tone has an odd quirk with the comment before Firefury corrects herself. "Sorry, like Tsume'd be the first to tell you, diplo-speak really isn't my first language, what with the military pilot background and all that. Devon and I were never what I would call close or personal friends, but we've had our share of shenanigans, mostly back when that bloodthirsty bastard Carlos Quil'raya was in charge of Iraqstan. Nothing like an old-fashioned cold war to keep things ... exciting."

"It would be prudent to go and make our formalities to our host." Tsume interjects with a slight bob of his head, apparently of the opinion that the Lady Shogun's well-known old grudge with the late Iraqstani leader was not an appropriate conversation piece. "I fear we've not had much occasion to meet with Marcus prior to this; his father did tend to overshadow things. But I do think it wise to be quick about things, before Kraah ... well, does what he does best."

That last is said with a bemused tone of voice, the drake apparently well-versed in the eccentricities of other international figures. It makes sense, as he is the head of the diplomatic corps and serves as interim head of the Shogunate on those few occasions where Firefury has had to step away from the role for one reason or another. Personality quirks are just one of the many bits of information a diplomat has to keep straight, and the big Sakkran's reputation for being a veritable pile of such quirks has clearly not dimmed over the years.

The two Keepers have gone on slightly ahead of the trio, Najoedo carrying himself with all the steady cool worthy of a head of state himself; while Oduh is somewhat more social and less restrained than the older Keeper. He's one of the first to the bar, inquiring after something interesting and apparently settling on the bartender's suggestion of one of the many wines available while listening for an opportune break to join in a conversation there. The Eldest waits for Firefury, Tsume, and Trevor to catch up; apparently to Najoedo's sense of propriety mingling must wait until after their host has been properly greeted on this somber occasion. Both the Keepers keep stealing stealthy glances in Naiya's direction, though none are overt, they merely happen to glance around the room now and then, eyes resting for just a hair longer on Nathicana's daughter than on anyone else.

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

Cesare - Siri

"Of course, Chairwoman. Merely a suggestion if you had a need. I'm sure Ben or any of the others he has working with him could make the arrangements without troubling him over it in the least," he assured her, letting the matter drop. While it was true, anyone could find themselves in a position to accept the charity of others, one did not have to enjoy it. And the Grummians, as he recalled, were as proud a people as any.

He'd withdrawn slightly when Marcus had stopped through, making his rounds, only picking up the conversation after he'd left again, starting off on a careful note.

"He was ... formidable, yes," Cesare agreed, taking a slow sip of his wine, then gesturing to Siri. "Of course that can be said of others. You've had quite a lot on your plate, and been doing an admirable job. Commendable. As well as your family doing well throughout."

"Here's to hoping we can all look forward to more of the same in the future. I can't speak for others, but there are times I think my bones look forward to this 'retirement' as well. Though for such a meddlesome creature of habit, it may prove to be more of a challenge than the relaxation and rest the word implies." Cesare raised his glass at the first, taking a drink again after he'd finished, offering her the opportunity to do the same should she choose.

"In the meantime, is there anyone I could introduce you to, or any further assistance I could be?"

[Britmattia]

One of the reasons the King attending this wake had been a matter for some discussion had been, despite a previous approach by Erik, a lingering reluctance to expose any more leaders to the tender mercies of a D'Aquisto whose ability to influence the judgement of her peers might go beyond the merely mortal, the shuttling between nations and attendant steady rise in Naiya's personal influence had not gone un-noted in Royesse, as well as this particular situation being virtually tailor-made for her purposes, combining both the death of her strongest limiting influence and a gathering of even more rulers to work on.

In the end, however, breeding had won out, backed by the instincts of gentle-folk and the King had overruled the more vociferously paranoid of his advisers and risked, for whatever value of risk, himself and his wife.
The hope was that whilst breeding had won out for the Warwicks, it would not do so in the case of the young woman currently offering them a drink.

So, the King smiles politely, and his wife warmly, the elf-woman taking the lead here.
Arwen untwines herself from her husband's arm and offers her hand, black-gloved as both Warwicks are in their very most formal mourning clothes, one of the few occasions where it's more suitable for Owen to be in a suit instead of a uniform, the couple are looming pillars of nigh-unrelieved black, the only hints of colour the blue, gold and red of Owen's dragon-twined tie and the same colours interwoven in a scarf for Arwen.
"Certainly, if you lead us to water I'm reasonably sure this horse at least will drink. It's a pleasure to meet you as well by the way, even if the circumstances are less than ideal. Erik was very positive about your interaction in Tartarus."

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

Naiya - Britmattia

Having grown up around Kzinti and Sakkrans, it wasn't the height of the pair she found somewhat daunting. It was that sense of being judged, weighed, measured. And understanding now, more fully why.

And again, she found she could not really blame them. Of course having a clearer understanding of things didn't help change the reality, nor was this the time and place to start in with the whole 'prepare yourselves' speech concerning the true challenge that loomed more menacingly in her mind than the impressive figures of the king and queen.

They were good people, as was their cousin, she'd thought. With their own concerns, own responsibilities, and concerns.

Putting all that aside, she politely drew the attention of one of the servers who had been circulating the room, bearing an assortment of beverage choices, making note of her brother's brief appearance as he attempted to be everywhere at once.

She herself continued to nurse the glass of juice, gently refusing any further offers with a nod and a smile. Naiya waited until the Britmattians had been properly seen to before continuing.

"I want to thank you again," she said, nodding in Marcus's direction. "It has not been easy for my brother, or my mother. They can use all the support they can get right now, whether they wish to admit it or not. The Emperor meant the world to them."

There was no point in dredging up bad feelings, regardless of the sting that still lingered. And acknowledging something others knew to be fact cost her nothing when all was said and done.

[Britmattia]

Arwen, despite a 'childhood' that could only be described as hellish, is thoroughly empathic, certainly enough to note Naiya's choice of words in exactly who the late emperor had meant the world to, it's not the most subtle phrasing, especially for a student whose grasp of language that would have been formed in such a Machiavellian background, the Queen files the datum for later thought but not present action.

Instead, she selects a mulled wine, one of the best parts of being important is that your drink of choice is always going to be available, and sips it before speaking to Naiya again.
"Mm, he was an important man to many, certainly someone's whose passing is of import, but your mother is a strong woman, she is someone I have every confidence in returning from grief greater than before. As for your brother, well, he's something of a cypher to us, but as you've divined, we are here to show support. It's just a matter of knowing where to provide it."
The Queen exchanges a look with her husband, then back to the younger woman, a smile quirking around her lips.
"Of course that implies we know enough of what's going on to judge, not something we can say with confidence these days."

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

Naiya - Britmattia

Naiya nods quietly. It's to be expected, a great deal of this. Reassurances can be made. Whether or not they'll be accepted is outside her control.

"He will be missed," she confirmed, leaving her private doubts about her mother's current capabilities unspoken, while focusing on one of the other points that could be clarified. "It's my understanding he and my mother were working towards their eventual retirement. I know neither my brother nor myself wanted his ascension to come about like this."

"I wish they could have done as they'd planned. God only knows they'd been through enough they deserved some peace, and the opportunity to simply be together without the cares of their individual responsibilities of rule."

Taking a short sip of her juice, Naiya looked each in the eye, her expression clear and open. "As for where to place your support, I can say with surety that neither the Dominion nor Treznor have changed their focus or opinions in regards to our allies in light of this tragedy."

"Both my brother and I will no doubt need the guidance and support of experienced leaders such as yourselves, going forward. And should there ever be a doubt as to 'what's going on', our communication lines, as well as our doors, are always open."

Naiya offered both a station-appropriate bow, along with a guileless smile. "Your Majesties, it has been an honor. Please, if there is anything at all you need, don't hesitate to ask. If you will excuse me, I need to help my brother in greeting our other guests. Again, my sincere thanks, on behalf of all of us."

The young woman waited for any response before withdrawing and heading in the direction she'd last seen The Hack and Caloris representatives.

[Midlonia]

The Unnoticed Staff

Both girls had given Marcus a big hug when he came to speak to them, both planting kisses on his cheek at the same time. Henry, Sarah and Nicholas seemed to remain in quiet conversation, but all seemed to be taking an interest in who was in the room with them, glancing as they did at times about during natural lulls.

‘Someone seems interested, Dolcezza.’ Aeturnus commented, his position had remained unchanged, but his gloves had creaked very gently as his fists tightened behind his back, the green leather was in theory old after all. ‘The orange one, her bodyguards seem to keep looking your way.’

‘That would be Queenie - Reploid Productions. Or rather Firefury Amahira. The dragon is Tsume Draconis, over the diplomatic wing. The others aren’t bodyguards. They’re something else entirely. The Keepers. Mystical, very long-lived race of draconids as I understand it - I believe they can change their shape,’ came Naiya’s private answer. She too had felt the quiet observation.

‘I met one of them when Marcus and I were young, at a beach party of all things. They noticed I had ... talent. I’ve no idea what they’ll make of me now.’

‘Well I shall keep an eye on them as it stands, they keep glancing to you longer than anyone else, not by much, but just enough for me to notice.’ Her Guardian replied a single blink of his eyes being the only movement he made. ‘Your brother seems to be holding up.’

‘We’re among friends, Aeturnus. You needn’t worry so,’ Naiya noted, even as her own gaze slipped momentarily towards the Keepers. ‘But yes, I think they both are for now. They’re in their element, and being kept busy. You should relax a little, at least get something to drink. Would you prefer I introduce you to some of the other guests first?’

‘I was unaware I am here to socialize, I am your advisor and part of your guard after all.’ He replied quietly, glancing momentarily to her..

‘And you know I dislike thinking of you that way. So long as you aren’t entirely discontented, then?’ Her eyes met his for a moment, looking for confirmation.

The cover over his face twitched a little. ‘I thought we were supposed to be keeping up appearances, Dolcezza. As much as I’d like to.’

‘Stop being so reasonable. And at least get yourself and DeSanti some water, or something. At some point.’ Yes he was right. It wasn’t the villa, there were protocols to be considered, and she had been the one to insist on them initially. Feeling somewhat perturbed at herself for momentarily forgetting some of that, she took the opportunity to raise a hand in greeting to the Keepers the next time she caught their gaze passing over her.

Perhaps they would take up the invitation, perhaps not, but in any case, she felt more at ease making her first contact with them in mixed company.

Aeturnus moved after that, across to DeSanti, stopping and grabbing a couple of water bottles on the way from one of the small tables away from the bar. He held one up and offered it to Salvadore.

“Unusual thing, this.” Aeturnus commented before settling in next to the other guard, he uncapped the bottle with a quick twist of his wrist and he took a quick sip of it, somehow just moving his covering enough for the water and yet not showing his face. “To me, anyway.”

DeSanti murmured a brief thanks, cracking open his bottle and taking a drink while continuing to quietly monitor the room. “It is, in some respects. A head of state, and Emperor no less? I would have thought a more formal setting. A state funeral with all the Treznor trappings,” the tall man said quietly, his eyes still on the crowd, and the principessa in particular.

“But I understand it was the man’s wish. And his son, he’s honoring it. It’s a good thing, that. Famiglia, honore - importante, si?”

“Si, importante...” Aeturnus replied with a slight nod. “The informality is odd, but perhaps it is to ensure his son gets a more personal relationship with some of these heads of state.”

“Perhaps this as well. I understand the Imperatrice at least maintained good personal ties with several of the leaders as well as professional. It would make sense for her son to follow suit. You’ve seen how the principessa chooses not to stand on formality, save when it’s required, yes?” DeSanti explained, offering a very subtle shrug.

Something seemed to amuse Aeturnus at that and he nodded before taking another drink. “Yes, indeed. As I understand it though some formality is required, calling the Greater Kingdom’s King Sire, for example.”

“Titles,” DeSanti said somewhat dismissively, unaware of the situation that prompted the comment. “Again, importante. And in these circles, sometimes odd as well. I find it more comfortable to operate in the background. Just another guard, no one to take notice of. The smarter ones, they know their business, watch their words and actions. Others ... well, one can learn a lot being ‘nobody’.”

“True.” Aeturnus nodded slightly. “What do you know of the new Emperor anyway? I don’t know much aside from he’s Naiya’s brother.”

DeSanti shrugged slightly again, his glance brushing over the man in question. “Well-liked young man. Competitive, if you’d ever seen him play. By all accounts talented, a natural knack for a good many of the skills needed. Still, different from his sister in a number of ways as well. I can’t really speak more than that. Christof, he may be able to offer further enlightenment.”

Aeturnus merely nodded in return to DeSanti’s answer and took another drink.

[Sakkra]

"Kraah," he called as he lifted a platter of roast chicken and took a bite from its thigh. "My father told me that you and he had an old tradition."

The Emperor of the Herpetological Empire took notice of the motions made by the young Marcus, and knew where it was heading. As the now-flightless and non-living avian took flight one last time, soaring over the heads of some in a graceful arc, Kraah's jaws opened seemingly of their own accord, and snatched the bird out of the air with all speed. A quick crunch and swallow made short work of the small morsel (by Sakkran standards).

Sszeera swatted her husband on the thigh. "You and your Spatial Navy shenanigans." A reproachful look was delivered from Empress to Emperor, which was responded to with a swift "Shaaa! Unclench your haunches now and then." Kraah turned his attention to Marcus with one eye. "It is a shame we have to meet under these circumstances. Last I saw your visage, you would be considered a hatchling still. Seems like it was only yesterday....." He seemed to trail off in thought as Sszeera stepped forward. She curtsied slightly. "Good cycle, Sirra Treznor. I've heard much from my less-than-always-lucid husband here of his travels with your sire. If we can be of service to you in this time, feel free to lean on us at your will."

[Treznor]

"Kraah," he called as he lifted a platter of roast chicken and took a bite from its thigh. "My father told me that you and he had an old tradition."

The Emperor of the Herpetological Empire took notice of the motions made by the young Marcus, and knew where it was heading. As the now-flightless and non-living avian took flight one last time, soaring over the heads of some in a graceful arc, Kraah's jaws opened seemingly of their own accord, and snatched the bird out of the air with all speed. A quick crunch and swallow made short work of the small morsel (by Sakkran standards).

Sszeera swatted her husband on the thigh. "You and your Spatial Navy shenanigans." A reproachful look was delivered from Empress to Emperor, which was responded to with a swift "Shaaa! Unclench your haunches now and then." Kraah turned his attention to Marcus with one eye. "It is a shame we have to meet under these circumstances. Last I saw your visage, you would be considered a hatchling still. Seems like it was only yesterday....." He seemed to trail off in thought as Sszeera stepped forward. She curtsied slightly. "Good cycle, Sirra Treznor. I've heard much from my less-than-always-lucid husband here of his travels with your sire. If we can be of service to you in this time, feel free to lean on us at your will."

Marcus took the Empress' claw and bent his lips over it briefly. "Majesties. I'm so glad you could be here. My father spoke of you often, and fondly. Our colony on the ice world of Sskla VIII continues to prosper and bring profit and I look forward to continuing our friendship. As you offer your service to us, so do we offer our service to you for any reason."

He stepped back and gestured with one thumb at the door leading to the grand ballroom. "Our staff is a bit more familiar with your dietary requirements than they were the last time you had occasion to visit the Empire, so we've prepared food for an army. If you're not hungry, it won't go to waste. I've made preparations to donate any excess to the poor. But I'm afraid I won't be able to go on any safaris for the foreseeable future."

[Reploid Productions]

The Keepers

"Oh for the Goddess' sake, you two, just go and say hi to her already!"

That Firefury is the first one to make the telepathic remark instead of the Keepers initiating such a conversation instantly gets Najoedo and Oduh's attention back on the orange reploid.

"Firefury-uccjooh, it would be rude-"

"Najoedo, even Tsume's noticing the two of you keep glancing at her. I've got him right here to keep me from misbehaving, you don't need to babysit me on top of it. Remember, I'd been running the Shogunate just fine for a damn long time before you guys even woke up."

By now, Oduh can't keep a slight fanged grin off his face, listening to Queenie silently chewing out the Eldest. The white-scaled Eldest of the Keepers usually has a certain edge in most meetings simply because of his age; it's a refreshing thing to see Najoedo scolded, seniority be damned. "She has a point, Eldest. Come, get a drink and pretend you're my age for once!"

"Maybe my age." Firefury interjects. "Or better yet, Kiara's. After all, she is the youngest of you lot."

Najoedo shakes his head slightly and moves to split off from the two reploids. "It does not seem to be the appropriate time for investigating such things."

"Eldest, is there really ever a 'right' time? We're all here, the circumstances ensure that everybody should be on their best behavior-" Oduh pauses as he watches a roasted chicken go sailing over his head only to be snatched out of the air by Kraah several feet away. -MOSTLY best behavior, though that was impressive; there's no harm in conversation. There's not much else we can learn from just observing. At least not without actually prodding with the Arts, and that would be very poorly received."

"Wisdom from the mouths of babes." Najoedo relents, moving toward Naiya when he catches sight of the younger woman's wave.

"Sure, if you consider two-thousand-and-change and almost-four-hundred to be 'babes.'" Even through the silent speech, Firefury's dry tone and snort are clear. "Shoo! Go socialize! Time stands still for no one, not even for you guys!"

Oduh fetches a second glass of wine from the bar and moves to join Najoedo, the coppery-scaled younger Keeper unable to keep the smile off his face as he intercepts the Eldest and hand off the drink before the pair move to greet Naiya.

"Naiya-nuhcuto-" Najoedo's formal reserve is almost entirely overshadowed by Oduh very near bounding over.

"Little one!" The younger Keeper really can't keep the grin off his face now. "It's been an age since I'd last seen you! Though... I suppose 'little' no longer truly applies. Present circumstances aside, you've been well, I hope?"

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

Naiya - The Keepers

She'd heard the stories, true, but seeing Kraah in action was another thing entirely. Nor was it something that put her off, admittedly. More like ... surprised. Naiya jumped slightly at the sight, eyes wide. Sakkran jaws were not to be taken for granted. Nor the rest of them. Not if one wished continued good health.

It was an impressive enough display that she temporarily forgot quite what it was she'd been doing, and was thus caught somewhat unawares by the two Keeper's approach.

Naiya turned, half thinking to offer an appropriate response to Najoedo just as Oduh made his more enthusiastic greeting.

Instead, in spite of her more quiet worries, Naiya smiled warmly. "I'm afraid I won't get much taller, though otherwise I've been just fine," she joked, aware that while she is taller than her mother, that doesn't mean much. "It has been a long while, Keeper. I hope Kiara and the others are doing well?"

It would have been very hard to forget one of her earliest recollections of serious thoughts concerning magic, it's uses, and applications. Kiara with her magic rock and light-dragon, Ivan with his own knowledge of the mystical - magic being 'thinking, wanting, and believing' - and the tantalizing hints that perhaps she could do and be something more.

Funny where fate had a way of taking a person sometimes. And both a shame and perhaps a blessing all at once that she wasn't free yet to fully discuss all those details with these two, who were likely two of the most knowledgeable persons present on the overall concept.

[The Garbage Men]

Trevor Desorté – Tsume & Firefury

Trevor was seemingly distracted by the events going on with Kraah, there were so many ways this could be interpreted. As a show of force, as Kraah being a show off, or simply as a Sakkran doing his best to lighten the mood of the new emperor.

However anyone else thought of it, it brought a smile a Trevor’s face. However there was something else that it also brought out of Trevor, Bernie the Trash Slime.

Bernie the Trash Slime was a deep shade of purple and was an amorphous blob of goo, that was about the only words you could use describe him, or was it a her, maybe an it. Whatever gender-based or gender-neutral term you used it didn’t quite seem to fit Bernie as Trash Slimes seemed to be genderless and gender-neutral terms like ‘it’ seemed to lack the personal touch that many Trash Slimes, that were companions, had.

Bernie in particular was primarily his wife’s companion, unfortunately due to her own busy schedule she was unable to make it on short notice but had sent Bernie along as her replacement. Bernie, however, unlike his (or hers) companion was fearful of large gatherings. It was this fear, combined with the temporary moment where people started to focus on Kraah and what he was doing that he (or her) had to the opportunity to make a run, figuratively speaking as Trash Slimes don’t have legs, to the nearest ventilation duct.

Not much gets past Trevor, and this little escape attempt did not either but there was little he could do to prevent the attempt without making a scene or being rude and he thought there had been enough of that type of thing for now. So there was only one thing left to do, pick up on the dangling thread of conversation.

“Of course, it seems, there are different schools of thought on that subject. It seems this is one of those occasions where official protocol is relatively lax so I wouldn’t worry about using diplo-speak too much. Though, personally, I’d recommend that if you make disparaging remarks about someone it’s always good to make sure they aren’t standing right behind you before you do so.”

There was a slight cheeky smile to his face, a face that seemingly held no worry in its soft but experienced skin.

[Northrop-Grumman]

Cesare - Siri - Britmattia

“Thank you,” came her simple response as she bowed her head in thanks at Cesare’s compliments.

Now, retirement. That was an interesting topic for her. She was certainly not the type to spend her final days playing shuffleboard or cards at the retirement home like humans were wont to do. She would have rather returned to her previous job and ideally died in combat at the end of some glorious battle.

“Whenever my retirement comes, probably centuries from now, I would not be particularly inclined to do the ‘rest and relaxation’ that so many others seem eager to go into. Neither would I wish to do anything similar to my current job.” Siri paused and sipped from her glass. “A life of fighting, of combat would be better suited to my last years.”

“No, no, but thank you,” the elf answered, smiling. The man was quite polite and generous, but she tended to want to do things on her own and without anyone’s assistance. “I do not mean to monopolize your time; I’m sure that you have other guests to attend to.” She extended her hand once more for a closing handshake. “It’s been a pleasure speaking with you, Chancellor, and hopefully we will meet once more, under better circumstances.”

Her eyes then scanned over the entirety of the room, noting who the assembled guests were, before her attention stopped upon the Britmattians. She had met a decent chunk of people here, but they were one of the few that she had not had the opportunity to meet, outside of an official setting, and they were also not currently occupied speaking with anyone else. So she thought for a moment and made her way over toward them, wine glass in hand, which she casually sipped from as she walked.

“Good evening, I don’t believe we have met - personally, that is, outside of the very few NDA meetings we have,” she started her introduction with an extended hand to them both. “It always is an unfortunate thing when you never have the change to actually meet your colleagues and instead only see them across the room from you.”

[Primordial Luxa]

The Flight from the Luxan Homeland to The Empire of Treznor was a long one, mainly because the Dreadlord and his family had been in a different reality when they had learned of the passing of Devon Treznor. Therefore it took the Luxan craft a while to travel through the boundaries of a dimensional plane to reach the Empire of Treznor. The Dreadlord didn’t know this foreign emperor well or at all really, but his nation had attended the Eternal Banquet and as he recalled they had been one of the more enjoyable guests.

The Luxans had taken The Entourage, one of the dozen royal ships, to the Funeral. The Entourage was a large vessel that was built mainly for escorting the Immortal Dreadlord in and out of hostile warzones. However, he doubted that such a trait would be needed during this event. The interior of the vessel was built to serve the highest levels of perfection and pleasure. The Dreadlord sat with a pair of his children in the main compartment.

With him were 4th Princes Charles and 4th Princess Alice, called by some as the Children of Fire and others as the Gods of Passion.

His thoughts were interrupted by his daughters, “Devon Treznor…” she said letting the words roll around her mind. “Were you close to him?”. He gave a curt reply that his children were used to. “No” however his daughter pressed on “Did we fight beside him?”, “No.” “Did we help his regime?”, “No.” She waited in silence for a while before replying. “Then why are we attending?”

The Dreadlord gave a response that his children were very familiar with, “Because I feel like it.”

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

Cesare – Siri – The Hack

“As always Chairwoman, a pleasure. We’re at your disposal,” Cesare said succinctly, finishing with a bow.

That had gone more smoothly than it could have, all things considered. She was in a difficult position, not only with the governmental issues, but the aging of her husband, where she would not. Yes, there were steps that could be taken, amongst their varied allies, but as the now departed Emperor had often argued with Nathicana – not everyone wished to avail themselves of those opportunities. Everything had a cost, immediate, obvious, or otherwise. He could respect that.

The guests were many at this point, and he could see that most, though not all were engaged on some level or other.

Marcus was busying himself trying to be the gracious host, which was good – it kept him focused on them, rather than his father. There would be more time for that later. Naiya was behaving, not that he had any real doubts, but since their return, he tended to keep a closer eye on things as best he could. And to attempt to draw away some of the more troublesome reports from her mother’s desk, when possible.

Nathicana was speaking with Rene, one of the longest-standing allies still with them. She seemed to be holding herself together well enough, and a quiet check-in with Massetti confirmed it. Only the one drink, though her choice concerned him slightly. Still. It was perhaps to be expected.

He thought the principessa had been headed in a particular direction before Marcus and Kraah started up one of Devon’s old games. He refrained from any outward show of disproval – it wasn’t his party after all, and though he had no problem with levity, there was a part of him that twitched at the sight of poultry being launched overhead. No less, seeing Kraah snap it up.

That alone brought back a few decidedly … poignant memories, connected to the skull currently gracing the personal office of the Imperatrice, captured artfully in an amber globe. Adjusting his collar, he signaled for a fresh glass of wine and continued in the direction Naiya had been headed, to the oddly-matched pair he recognized from previous engagements, however brief, and from files.

“Signores Drzka, Habakkuk,” he said, nodding politely and extending a hand in greeting as he approached. “I’m certain Marcus is deeply touched by your attendance. With things being as quiet as they have been with the NDA overall, there hasn’t seemed to have been as much need for the old guard save for as advisors. Is there anything I can get for either of you?”

[Chrinthanium]

The palace in Devonton is a massive structure that manages to combine both residential space and government offices. As well as taking up a dozen city blocks it rises high in the air above most skyscrapers, a monument to a man who felt that first impressions were vitally important.

He was not a man who liked to be kept waiting. Delays at the airport revolving around his diplomatic credentials had all but killed his all-important schedule--and he was almost never late. Regardless of events with meager middle-management pencil-pushers, Emperor Nathaniel IV arrived at the palace in Devonton. Its striking appearance, overt grandeur, and sheer size made even the ever-confident Nathaniel feel a slight bit of trepidation as he arrived. Yet, as he stepped out of the car and arrived at the entrance, he remained true to form. With a confident stare through his icy-blue eyes and a flash of his trademark smile, he made his presence known at the palace.

Part of his retinue was a strikingly thin young man whose face seemed barely able to hold the weight of the glasses that adorned it. It was this young man who made the formal introduction to the awaiting palace member, “Greetings, I am Thomas Jones, Personal Assistant to His Imperial Majesty, Nathaniel IV, of Chrinthanium. The emperor has come to pay his respects to the Imperial Family.”

Standing directly behind Thomas was Nathaniel--affectionately known to those in the Chrinthani Imperial Palace simply as Nate. He wasn’t exactly a tall man, rather average in height, but what he lacked in stature he more than made up for with his charismatic smile and relaxed, friendly personality.

The sergeant glanced briefly at the Imperial party, then down at his handheld and frowned. “Very good. If your party will wait in the Blue Room to your left, we’ll have security meet with you to exchange protocols. ‘Chrysanthemum,’ you said? Isn’t that a flower?”

Nathaniel choked back a frown at that particular moment, “Pardon me, but it is Chrinthanium, though you’re very close. C-h-r-i-n-t-h-a-n-i-u-m, Chrinthanium. Pronounced just how it is spelled. Though, you are correct, the empire is named after the flower. It stems from the legendary --”

“Yes, sir,” the sergeant interrupted. “That’s lovely. If you’ll follow Private Hensley to the left, we’ll be right with you.”

Nathaniel, however, refused to be stopped. He forged ahead relentlessly. “The legendary founding of our capital city, Chrinthania. The native Chrinthani language is something of a mishash of what some call Latin, English, and some native languages spoken only within the empire.”

After saying his piece about the name of the nation, Nathaniel expected the sergeant would have a better understanding.

There was an uncomfortable pause before the sergeant ventured, “Yes, sir. Is there anything else, sir?”

“No, that will be all, thank you,” Nathaniel replied somewhat indignantly. “Come along, Thomas, let’s follow this nice man’s directions.”

Nathaniel and Thomas would follow Private Hensley to the left as they were so directed. Once they were left alone in the room, Nathaniel would turn to Thomas with a look that would strike fear into a man. “How dare he interrupt me. Does he not know who I am?”

“Well, I, uh, suppose he does, but, eh, you know how these things are, sire,” Thomas said nervously, “We’re not exactly well known outside of our own borders.”

“Well, this is going to change all of that, Thomas. No more will Chrinthanium be stuck in isolation. It is the continuation of my father’s dream to bring this stuffy empire back into the modern age,” Nathaniel stated with a quiet urgency. “Now, I just hope they don’t keep me waiting too long, Thomas. You know how I hate to be stuck waiting.”

“Yes, Imperial Majesty, I know,” Thomas sighed as he stood there looking at the door hoping someone would appear soon.

In fact, it took a half hour before they were properly attended, although palace staff were constantly on hand to inquire if they wanted food or drinks. Eventually, a slim older man in business casual entered the room and waved away the guardsmen following him. He also held a tablet in one hand, but he didn’t bring it up.

“Your Majesty, I’m sorry for the wait. My name is Benjamin Vitner and I’m the head of Intelligence for the Empire of Treznor. It took my staff some time to prepare the necessary documents; we’re operating on a first-come first-serve basis.”

“Very well,” Thomas replied to Mr. Vitner, “I suppose that we are fine at the moment, though I believe that His Imperial Majesty could use another Gin and Tonic, and, if you don’t mind, I could use another mineral water.”

Ben’s eyebrows rose slightly, but he allowed no other expression to show on his face. “Of course. Private, please fetch these gentlemen their drinks. Mr. Jones, do you have a moment to go over security protocols? We have a lot of foreign nationals gathered today and we want to make sure we’re all on the same page.”

“Yes, Mr. Vitner, perhaps we should speak about protocols. Certainly, as you can tell, there is always the problem of indiosyncratic difficulties at these times and we want to make sure that His Imperial Majesty is fully briefed on these matters. The last thing we want is an international incident,” Thomas replied as Nathaniel sat starting at the wall anticipating the moment they could finally arrive. “Perhaps it is best if we begin with what is expected of us, then we can work from there.”

“Oh Thomas,” Nathaniel said as he stood, “perhaps we could cut out some of the more mundane matters and work on the do’s and don’ts for now.”

“Uh, Imperial Majesty,” Thomas said with a gulp, “perhaps it is best if we allow Mr. Vitner to give us the full briefing. You remember what happened two years ago when you decided to hold your first press conference. Nearly the entire palace news corps revolted.”

Nathaniel sat back down and awaited his new drink as Thomas returned his attention to Mr. Vitner, “As I said, Mr. Vitner, let us begin with what is expected of us.”

Ben lifted the tablet at his side and offered to to Thomas. “This is an overview of our internal protocols, if you’ll familiarize yourself with them. It should only take you ten minutes, and there’s a place for your thumbprint to be scanned. We’re also interfacing with the Dominion, the Lutvikkians, the Midlonians, the Sakkrans, the Tsarainese, the Reploids, Northrop-Grumman, Britmattia and the Garbage Men. The Hack didn’t provide us with any protocols; I expect they just broke into our systems and keep themselves updated as they need. Those protocols should take you another half hour. Once you’re comfortable enough with them to sign off, we’ll be able to escort you to the private library.”

What Nathaniel heard wasn’t anything more than waiting another forty minutes to move forward. If the ever-impatient emperor was going to get the show on the road, he was going to have to trust that Thomas would complete the tasks required and inform him of anything important.

Meanwhile, Thomas received the tablet from Mr. Vitner, “Thank you, Mr. Vitner. I’m certain that His Imperial Majesty will be most thankful for the information you’ve provided. I, for one, will find this most entertaining to read.” Thomas then began reading immediately to ensure he was briefed properly on protocols, and the who’s who.

“Excellent. I look forward to joining you there once I process the rest of the guests. It’s a good thing you arrived when you did, Majesty.” Ben bowed carefully and turned to go, almost colliding with Private Hensley who was returning with their drinks. The young man looked about to die of fright when Ben seemed to pass right through him before stepping out of the room.

After Private Hensley offered the drinks, he was dismissed from the room with a bright thank you from Thomas. After the pair were in private, Thomas proceeded to walk over to the emperor who was about to take a drink from his refreshed glass.

“Imperial Majesty, I think we should remember to take it easy tonight,” Thomas cautioned.

“Take it easy, Thomas?” Nathaniel asked, “Are you implying I can’t hold my booze?”

“No, most certainly not, sir, but please remember that we’re not in Chrinthanium right now. It is perhaps best if you pace yourself,” Thomas pleaded. “The last thing we need is to see pictures of you splashed across international news feeds with the headling, “Drunken Emperor Nathaniel Makes Ass of Self At Devon Treznor’s Wake.”

“Very well, Thomas. I was always certain you could suck the fun out of a wake, and now you’ve proved me correct. I’ll just finish this one, then proceed to pace myself, as you say.” Nathaniel then looked at his watch and realized that he’d been kept sitting for far longer than he ever expected.

“Just allow me the time to completely read through the protocols, then we’ll be about ready to move ahead, sir.” Thomas would turn his complete attention to the tablet that Mr. Vitner had given him.

As the time passed, Thomas realized that Nathaniel would most likely not cause too much trouble with the assemble guests, apart from the Tsarainese and Britmattia. This would be a true test of Thomas’ skills. If he could simply keep Nathaniel from rubbing those two the wrong way, the evening would be a diplomatic success. His only obstacle would be the gregarious emperor, who often felt the need to mingle with everyone. Still, he pressed ever forward in his duties while attempting to ensure that Nathaniel would not die from boredom.

[Solont]

“Kana...”

The voice was warm and comforting, yet it bore enough authority to penetrate to the core of Kana's psyche and draw her back towards reality. Cold glass pressed against her cheek. The imperceptible thrum of finely tuned fusion engines. A warm, furred hand upon her shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open, and she remembered where she was; just a few hours ago, Kana and her mother had boarded an executive shuttle bound for the Empire of Drona – or, the Empire of Treznor; Kana hadn't done much more than skim the diplomatic brief, and she didn't know the proper term.

“Kana, wake up. We'll be arriving soon,” Valcione said as her daughter stirred. Kana hadn't been too thrilled to take this little trip, and Valcione Solis, Supreme Commander of the newly reformed Solont Federal Defense Forces, knew it. For one, neither of them knew the first thing about the man whose wake they would be attending, Devon Treznor, nor about the man to succeed him or the nation he ruled. As far as Valcione was concerned, this trip was just a formality: a gesture of respect for Solont's tenuous allies in the Dominion, and an act of international courtesy to further cement Solont's new status as a player on Sol's political stage.

“Are you all right, Kana? You don't look well,” Valcione asked. Kana responded with a tired and emotionally drained gaze.

“Didn't sleep well,” Kana mumbled, and returned her eyes to the dark gray clouds whipping by the window. “Had that dream again...”

“The one you picked up from James?” Valcione asked. Kana nodded Being a sensitive psionic, Kana was often privy to the dreams and feelings of those around her, and had the unfortunate tendency to internalize those of the people she were close to. Her closest friend, James, had been suffering from nightmares lately, and so Kana's subconscious had been filled with all she held dear falling away from her as her arms crumbled to dust. The associated lack of rest had not been good for her mood.

It was why she hadn't been looking forward to the wake of Devon Treznor, either. Kana had never liked funerals. People could put on a brave face, and laugh and carouse and remember the good times all they liked, but the hurt they bore in their hearts couldn't escape her mind's eye, and neither could she block it out, no matter how much she wanted to. The young girl anticipated that this event would be no different, and only compounded by the fact that she'd be surrounded by politicians. Schemers, polite liars, snakes... she despised politicians.

But... her mother, the supreme commander, had asked her to come, for no other reason than that she wanted the two of them to spend time together. How could Kana have said no to that?

“Thank you for this, Kana,” Valcione said, her voice soft and sincere. The supreme commander herself did not share her daughters supernatural tendencies, but the unspoken bond between them made mind-reading unnecessary; Valcione had been Kana's mother long enough to know what she was thinking. “I know you didn't want to do this, but I promise it won't be as bad as you think it is. In fact, if you let them, some of the people at this wake might even surprise you.”

“I guess,” Kana sighed.

“If it's terrible, we'll just leave,” Valcione promised. “And either way, I promise we'll get back before the Prism departs. James isn't going anywhere until you've said your goodbyes.”

“... really?” Kana perked her ears up and cast a sidelong glance back her mother's way. The Prism, Solont's first and most ambitious colonization experiment ever conceived, had in just the past month started boarding the millions of passengers and crew that the ship would ferry to their new home amongst the stars. Kana had been rather irrationally afraid of the possibility that her friend, still awaiting his transfer to the massive colony ship, would leave before she could see him one last time.

“Kana, I only run quite literally everything,” Valcione said, a wry smile crossing her face. “Trust me. James isn't going anywhere until I say so.”

The executive shuttle gave a slight lurch, and the weight of its passengers lessened imperceptibly as the floor shifted downwards.

“We're landing. Are you ready, Kana? Double check your limiters.” Valcione said, straightening the collar of her uniform. Wordlessly, Kana did as she was told, checking that her limiters were still firmly affixed to her wrists and neck. Tastefully disguised as jewellery, the silver bracelets and gold choker around her neck were actually sophisticated pieces of psionic-dampening technology, designed to clamp down on Kana's burgeoning talents. Checking them physically was unnecessary; she could feel the fields they projected wrapping about her head and keeping her mind inside her own skull. She could still pick up on surface feelings and emotions, but her more impressive and invasive abilities were effectively neutered. A formality, really; Despite her growing power, Kana had more than enough control and decorum to keep from digging around in other people's memories. The restrictors were more for their hosts than for her.

“Ready, mama,” Kana said, taking a deep breath and steadying herself. Beneath them, the wheels of their shuttle touched down on the rainslicked runway of Devonton's primary airport.

“Let's not keep the officials waiting, then,” Valcione said, and stood up from her seat. “If we hurry, we can still be fashionably late.”

---

Beneath the wet cowling of the sleek white executive shuttle from the Planetary Federation of Solont, Supreme Commander Valcione Solis and her daughter, Kana Solis, descended the ramp towards waiting officials of the Empire, and the two of them could not have looked more different. The commander herself wasn't even human; her body was covered in a layer of black fur, striped with white which matched her long hair and ran from her neck all the way to the tip of her long, oversized tail. She was dressed as professionally as possible, in a crisp and tightly fitting military dress uniform, colored entirely black save for the gold trim at the hems. The clothing was devoid of medals, and only a single emblem upon her shoulder identified her rank and affiliation; she had never liked showing off, and the wake was hardly the occasion. Overall, Valcione bore an air of strong but unassuming professionalism.

Kana, on the other hand, was nothing less than striking. The kitsuite bore much more familiar human features, save for the pointed ears atop her head and the tail curling this way and that behind her. She eschewed her mother's monochrome style for a brilliant and deep blue, in everything about her. Her fur, her hair, her clothing, even the two scabbard's tied to her waist; everything was the same beautiful ocean blue. Her outfit bordered on flambouyant; she was wearing the long and flowing ceremonial robes of a member of the Hourai faith, complete with twin dancing swords as appropriate for an event in honor of the newly dead. They were decorative; she hoped security wouldn't confiscate them for the duration.

Kana wrinkled her nose as she tasted the air. Acrid and polluted. She didn't like it.

“Valcione Solis and Kana Solis presenting,” Valcione said with a tone of authority, stepping forward to meet the agents who were to take them to see the new Emperor, Marcus Treznor. It was just the two of them. They had no need for guards.

[Tsaraine]

Tsaraine - Nathicana

"Tenacity ... is also a good trait in a leader," Rene commented. She accepted the offered drink, and took the indicated seat with gratitude. More and more, as the years went on, the simple aging that Tsarainese medicine had purported to put off for decades was catching up to her. She'd spent over a decade wheelchair-bound earlier in her life, and was not looking forward to a return to it. Tenacity, indeed.

"Without my own stubbornness," she added, "I doubt there'd be a Tsaraine today ... we very nearly lost it all. Though of course the NDA requires a great deal of credit for our survival as well ... without it we'd still be scrabbling in the Wastes. And of course Emperor Treznor - Devon - was a solid core to the NDA. The iron fist to your velvet glove, if you will." Rene smiled briefly at her own very minor joke. "We have been ... unseemly absent from the Alliance, I know."

"Necessarily," Serrakhen interjected.

"Yes, necessarily, but even so ... I do hope your son is capable of taking his father's place there - meaning no offense to him or you - but they are big shoes to fill. And whatever else he may have been, Devon was unique."

"He, and the NDA, have our full support still, of course," Serrakhen said. His voice was deep, smooth, with much more of the guttural vowels and clipped consonants of the Tsarainese accent than Rene. "Nothing has changed there, however much we may have been focusing on ... internal matters, the governance of the State."

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

Nathicana – Tsaraine – Primordial Luxa

Nathi remained standing, out of necessity. She didn’t want to stop for too long, or get too comfortable. She’d spent enough time in comfort in various rooms in the palace. And granted, enough time in argument, and other familiar pursuits that she didn’t want to settle in to any of those frames of mind. It made things more difficult.

Her eyes tightened slightly at the continued reminders. That was the point of this gathering. She knew that. But hearing him repeatedly referred to in past tense was simply not something she was prepared to acknowledge. Regardless of everyone’s decision on the matter. Nor was she prepared to break down in tears, outwardly grieve or cause a scene, rail against the consensus, or any other number of things.

A nod of acknowledgment of the compliments, a quiet smile at the more positive reminders. Those she could do.

“We’ve all had some necessary adjustments, and matters that required our attention. The NDA has been running smoothly for so long due to our united efforts, as a whole – your own included,” she said with a knowing look. “There was simply no need to continue on as we had. He saw it before I did.”

“Your reassurances are appreciated,” Nathicana replied, primarily to Serrakhen, but nodding to both. “We have no intended changes in our own support or direction either. Nor, I believe, does my son – though of course, he would now be the one to ask. It will no doubt be a change, the differences in approach at least. I am hoping it will be one for the better as opposed to the alternative. As any mother hopes for their children.”

It was as close as she was willing to acknowledge the differences between father and son, or her own private concerns about where Marcus might take things, or how he might handle the load, given some of her more recent conversations. He had all the ability, the knowledge to do what he needed. She would continue to observe tonight, and offer her compliments or advice to him later, if needed.

“As soon as he has the opportunity, I’m certain he’ll wish to speak to you at more length. Please, in the meantime, if there is anything you need, just ask. His staff are very good, and we of course, are always happy to do what we can for our friends and allies. It was good to see you again, Rene – and good to meet you, Serrakhen,” Nathi said, offering a hand to each. “Perhaps we’ll have the chance to catch up a bit more as the evening progresses. I think I’m going to exchange this,” here she gently swirled the remnants of her glass. “For something easier on the tongue. If you’ll excuse me?”

She of course waited for their response before smiling gently again, then making her way back through the growing group of guests. She polished off the rest of her drink, and handed it off to one of the roaming servicepeople, requesting a glass of wine this time. Not the Delacourt, no. Something light, and not so memory-provoking.

One group at least was certain not to be ordinary, nor dredge up any less fortunate memories, was the interesting group that had arrived quietly, but certainly not unnoticed. They were unique, in a way that finally triggered the recollection of a discussion with her daughter, of an eccentric people with appearances that were at odds with their behaviors, to a great degree. It hadn’t been the hosts, but some of the guests there which had proven problematic – an oddity that was not lost on her.

Who had they been? The … Luxans. That was it. Her descriptions had been vivid, but they didn’t quite do the guests justice.

The diminutive woman accepted the offered wine glass with an idle word of thanks as she looked the group over, then crossed the room to make her own introductions.

“On behalf of my son, please allow me to welcome you, and to thank you for your attendance,” Nathicana said, inclining her head to the Dreadlord and his family. “I’m Nathicana D’Aquisto, Dominion Imperatrice. I believe Marcus and Naiya, my children, attended a conference in your nation at one point. Naiya in particular was quite complimentary of your hospitality.”

[The Most Glorious Hack]

Calvin/Habakkuk - Cesare

Calvin smiled a little; up close it was clear that he hadn't taken the more common route of all but arresting the outward effects of aging, but had rather slowed them to a snail's pace. Some people referred to it as growing old very gracefully: so gracefully you hardly noticed. Habakkuk, of course, looked like he pretty much always did. It's not like he was going to be growing old at all. Unless he wanted to. The cheater.

"Well, it's only Proper, after all." Calvin glanced around the room and gave another smile. Habakkuk bowed slightly as he shook Cesare's hand, his own cool to the touch, but quite solid, "In a way, it is a good thing. It means things are calm in the world. Or perhaps we've simply matured. Besides, I enjoy the role of adviser." The LiME got a philosophical look for a moment before smiling, "I am glad I was able to make the trip, and Elijah sends his condolences," a brief nod from Calvin conveyed the Oligarchy's as well, "I hope things are going well here, too." With an ever-so-slight dip in his volume, he added, almost casually, "If there is any help needed, feel free to let us know."