A Turn of the Page -- Open IC (Coronation/Masquerade)

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

Roania

Fawkes had stiffened at the mention of names, though a very subtle gesture from Blackbird kept him at his currently removed position. Various traditions, and misunderstandings of theirs on the parts of others was something generally taken in stride, in keeping with Dominion sensibilities about hospitality.

They were not the sorts to draw blade at the slightest insult, perceived or otherwise – though they were quite good at settling any debts of honor that accrued. The unspoken part of this of course, was that Dominion natives saw themselves as far superior in a number of ways, though they thought it gauche to let such opinions be seen publicly. It was thus expected that those who were not natives wouldn’t perform to the same levels of expectations they had for one another. Politeness was the rule of thumb, deference, and understanding. In fact the better at ease a native was able to put their guests, the more it meant for their reputation amongst their peers.

Blackbird had long since stopped keeping score. But some things were bred in the bone, part of the makeup of the people going back generations. And it was a part of her makeup that required little thought. It was second nature.

“Please, don’t censure yourself on my account, Lady. Neslae – that’s quite pretty, thank you. Perhaps you’ll be able to enjoy our little diversions while you’re here, even if they’re unfamiliar. No one will think worse of you even if not. I’m quite certain everyone would like you to feel at ease while you’re here. Think nothing of it.”

He words were meant for both, hoping to somewhat smooth over whatever had set Daria off, and had her nervous as a whore in church. Not that the phrase ought to be considered any reflection on the woman herself, but Blackbird had been in the position enough to know just how uncomfortable that could be.

“So, now that we have established that all is well, between myself, and both of you, how might I be of service in finding the magic of this night? There are a number of entertainments a pair with exquisite tastes might enjoy,” she continued, briefly looking at Death, cocking her head slightly. “Siete insieme voi due, Signore? Si? Bene, bene … va bene. ”

She nodded to herself thoughtfully, leaving that aside and getting back to the point of the conversation. “Devras is at your disposal. As am I.”

[Midlonia]

“My my, some costumes about.” The wolfed-masked warrior said. “Wonder how many will spot the Mercian Jarl and guess who…”

“No giving the game away, dear.” The other replied. “Though I do think I’ve spied someone to make your blood boil.” There was a slight nod with the spear, drawing the wolf-masked one’s eye.

His eyes narrowed for a moment and then he tutted. “Oh bloody typical. The uncrowned Queen? Really?”

The woman-warrior giggled softly. “Look at you getting so angry over it as well. How long ago was the Plypian Rebellion?”

“1630 or so.” The wolf-masked one replied. “She probably bloody saw it.”

The woman-warrior smacked the wolf-mask softly on the back of the head, moving the helmet down slightly which he hastily corrected and glared at her. She grinned before draining the rest of her champagne glass.

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

The Mercian Jarl finally spied the Uncrowned Queen and stared. Hard. He seemed to forget himself entirely in the moment and made a beeline for her, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into an embrace followed by a deep, longing kiss.

“And if I was some foreigner with an interest in Greater Kingdom history?” She murmured to the Jarl as they finally broke the kiss.

“Oh, well it’s a masquerade after all.” The Jarl replied with a grin. “I’m sure they wouldn’t have minded.”

“I might’ve.” The Uncrowned Queen replied. “I guess you’ll get your reward later then…” She pouted slightly. “Maybe I should have found a less obviously Midlonic costume…”

[Solont]

Sunsetopedestrians

“Eeeee, gross!” Kana recoiled, giggling, as Miss Roboto dropped a particularly evocative metaphor atop her patriotic origins. “Horrible image is right. I'm going to have to put some time into wiping that one before I go to sleep tonight. That said, I have heard of the Scolopendran Segments, though I am quite ashamed to admit that I don't know a thing about it. Still, it's an honor to finally meet someone at least tangentially related to it. You're going to have to tell me all about it tonight,” Kana said. “I insist.”

“And Sunset,” She said, gently grasping the four-armed elf's outstretched hand with both of her own, “I'm sorry to say that I've never heard of it either. Does its name derive from that beautiful English evening word, or is that just a happy coincidence of language?” Kana had always been fond of sunsets; she'd made a habit of watching the sun setting into the Great Edge Ocean every night when she was a child, and had carried on that tradition well into her adulthood, no matter where she was.

“As for me, well, I'm not very surprised you haven't heard of Solont. It's a big galaxy out there and, as young as I am, I can still remember a time when the question of whether there was anyone else like us out there was still open.” She said, as she took a step back and turned her eyes towards the ceiling. Thinking about it... yes, the rotation of the earth should be just about right. “It's a beautiful little blue and green gem about 50 lightyears that way, or thereabouts,” She said, extending her arm upwards and at a slight angle. “I can point the star out to you if we go outside tonight,”

---

The Girl in the Black Mask

The handsome gentleman in the golden mask had escaped the young lady's gaze, just as she had escaped his, though it was not due to any sort of skill or subtlety on his part. It was a crowded hall, and blind luck had kept the two from meeting, just as it was blind luck when the young man caught a flash of violet flitting by out of the corner of his eye.

Simple but sexy black dress, feline theme... He knew it was her right from the beginning, but took the time to give her a long, appreciative glance from head to toe while he still could. So much had changed in the past few years, ever since that ill fated hunting excursion; that much was obvious just from looking at her. So many changes still awaited, lurking in the mists of an obscured an uncertain future. As he admired the present, however, the young man came to realize that perhaps some things blessedly stayed the same.

Looking decidedly out of place amidst the crowd in his brown leather bomber jacket – he'd promised Kana he'd check his coat; he just never specified which one – the young man in the golden mask approached the lady he'd had his eyes on and, standing behind her and to her right, tapped on her left shoulder. He smiled when she didn't fall for that old schoolyard trick.

“Buona sera, mia cara signora,” He said, as their eyes met. His Italian was well pronounced, but slow and deliberate, and heavily accented with an unmistakable foreign tinge. “Siete alla ricerca di, er... qualcuno?” He'd spent the past hour with his nose buried in a translation dictionary, practicing this very line; he hoped she couldn't tell.

“Forse potremmo condi-- uh... condividere una danza, fino a quando lo trovi?” He asked, and offered to her his hand.

[Sunset]

Solsetopendra

Iiandri didn't know. It wasn't something that had come up, but it was something she could find out! Reaching into her decolletage she slipped out a small card, white with the Sunset sunburst printed on it, and a moment later a little orange tiger appeared.

"Why is Sunset named Sunset?"

'Sunset is so named because one of the founders was from the American Southwest. She thought the Vallis Marineris bore a particular resemblance to that area and its wild canyons and noted beautiful sunsets.'

Shutting the card off with a snap, she slipped it back into it's place.

"There you go. From what I'm told, it doesn't look like that anymore. There's plant life all the way to the edge of the canyons and you'd be hard pressed to find a bare rock in between all the buildings that project into the Vallis. The whole thing is flooded now too. Certainly doesn't look like my home."

"Sunset is my adopted country. We..." she paused dramatically, "Are a conquered people. Though it was our own fault. I'm a Jo-Ducri - that's literally 'of Ducri' - and we were pirates. Our civilization happened to grow up in a galactic hotspot as far as life goes and we were gifted with a wrecked spacecraft. The sociologists would say we were too young for it and I suppose we were. We took it apart, learned how to make more, and set about plundering our neighbors. We made the mistake of plundering the wrong neighbor and ended up getting conquered by the SDF. We're used to the idea of one crew absorbing another, so when I was of age I joined up."

"What about Solont? What drew it into the galactic community?"

[Bolrieg]

Bolreig

A dark-garbed gentleman approached Lord Aldaes as he was busily swilling, tapping his bodyguard on the arm in the process.

“My apologies signore, but your antics have been disturbing the other guests. Perhaps it’s time to switch to a less intoxicating beverage, or to go sleep it off.”

"fine I'll remember better about what happened here not a lot probably judging from the glaring eyes" "perhaps a cup of tea" the bodyguard suggested

[New Naggoroth]

"It has been a pleasure, highness," Scarlet said with a bit of a smirk as she watched Naiya's reaction to their description of the nauglir. "We hope to see you later out among the revelers, but of course we understand if you might be hard to spot. A masquerade is an excellent choice; how better to go incognito at one's own party?"

"We bid you farewell then, highness," Ellenith spoke next, bowing respectfully. As she rose, the veil that covered her eyes shimmered briefly, then became completely opaque. "We look forward to our next meeting."

The pair departed, deciding to go join the party that was swiftly leaving them behind. Scarlet added a simple black half mask to her ensemble, as she didn't feel like changing out of her uniform. Ellenith didn't change either, as she had already worn her costume. Her dress started to subtly shift in colours as they left the audience chamber, from black to dark murky greens, blues, and even reds.

"Now, sister," Ellenith purred just a little as she walked with Scarlet, the sounds of revelry growing with every step, "Shall we see what kind of trouble we can get in to?"

[Scolopendra]

Scosolset

The robot had known that Sunset was somewhat more... 'aggressive' in its form of recruitment, but this was the first time she was exposed to the thought of it as actually being 'conquering.' Usually said conquests, at least when they filtered through the news to her, were mostly diplomatic. It wasn't as though she could really say anything, though. The Akapendran Combine started as a super-nation between the Segments and Tiburon, but time, politics, and convenience made Stonozka the senior partner in that partnership, much in the same way that the old Titanian Triumvirate nations of Berserker, Karmabaijan, and Suunto were now effectively semi-autonomous Segments. The federal structures of Scolopendra and the Combine made them quite amenable to quiet politicultural assimilation.

She realized, in hindsight, that the unpopular international retreat under Supreme Emperor Ipolla's was probably related. Growing pains, one might say, though all that was certainly above her DisClass.

"As long as everyone goes home happy and it all works out in the end, I suppose," was her thoughtful response. "I'd like to hear more about Solont too. Gotta fill up the ol' databanks, after all." The robot turned her voice mechanical again and moved her arms and head accordingly. "Primary function: to know all that is knowable."

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

Solont

“Lui è qualche parte, the little black cat said idly, glancing around and shrugging slightly. “Ma penso che farai per ora.”

She smiled broadly right after, letting him know she was only teasing. “Looking good, Jimmy. Looking verrrry good,” Talia said, drawwing the r’s out into a bit of a purr – all the more to tease. She clearly wasn’t put off by his bomber jacket, and given her usual carefree attitude, he probably could have showed up in a flour sack and she’d have been just as happy to see him. Talia wasn’t one to stand on formalities, though she did pride herself on having fairly good taste, all the same. “I didn’t know you’ve been learning a bit of the language, too. Nice.”

“So, a dance, is it? I’d love to. I knew the old social life was going to go right down the tubes once I entered service, but dear god, it feels like ages,” she joked as one slender arm twined with his. “You can tell me all about what you’ve been up to, and how you’ve managed to go from cute to cut.”


He is here somewhere. But I think you'll do for now.

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

Zero-One

“You know, I could try and keep this up all night, but I am never going to be a match for your wit, m’lady,” the man replied, shaking his head slightly and smiling. “Oddly, I don’t think I’d have it any other way. My apologies for inadvertently insulting your decidedly good taste and judgment.”

He began to lead them in the direction of the dance floor, nodding to several as they passed. “I know the tradition is to uphold the masquerade, to keep the mystery alive, so to speak, until the unmasking. But if I could speak plainly, at least for a moment,” Greenman said as they found their way to a spot, and he turned to face her. “I had hoped I might see you tonight. And hoped I might catch some hint, some clue while looking that might tip me off. As always, a mistress of disguise, of blending in, of appearing as whoever you wish, all while remaining at the heart of it all, yourself. And every beautiful complexity that goes with it.”

The man gently placed one hand on her waist, drawing her other hand up with his into a more traditional dance pose, while looking unblinking into her eyes. “I’m certain it’s overly forward. But on a night like this, perhaps these things can be forgiven. My dear Lady, you simply take my breath away.”

[Zero-One]

Green Man

The lady in noirish red nodded respectfully at the compliments as she followed him off to the side, turning in towards him in return. He spoke of hopes, of seeing and finding and apologies, and she simply smiled a little sphinx's smile, polite and listening and otherwise unreadable.

She let the pause become pregnant. Watched opaquely for a reaction. Then her lips turned up more broadly, with a low chuckle. "There, now our need for apology is mutual--it is not as though you are completely unaware of my borderline pathological love of discomforting little jokes." Her eyes narrowed and the corner of one lip turned up slyly. "You may consider it 'forward,' and, by the rules of the game, perhaps it is." She leaned in a little closer, her free hand moving to his waist in the traditional position. As she looked up slightly at him from under her hat's brim, her eyes shone--quite literally--green as her pupils narrowed and stretched from round holes to slits. "Of course, I've never had that much use for rules and would consider your forwardness in this regard..." She grinned impishly. "...admirable initiative."

"As that is a virtue on any night, much less this one," she continued in a low voice, "then there is nothing for me to forgive. All that remains is for me to give you your breath back somehow, since we can't have you so out of breath that you can't dance. Now how can I do that, I wonder...?"

With no more warning than that, she leaned up and gently kissed the lips left unprotected by the man's sylvan mask.

[The Fedral Union]

Roania
Edwin wasn't sure what the response from both parties would be, so far though it seemed to be to the point. He didn't know who either of these people where, certainly not while they were in costume. No matter how clueless he was, he realized this was a party it wasn't a formal meeting. Nonetheless he would try his best not to offend anyone, having to figure things out by the seat of ones pants was the best of the job in his mind. “It is quite confusing to me I must say, I have to admit I might be the first of my kind in attendance at one of these events, and this being my first time on this world amongst such prestigious company its difficult to to know everyone as it is. Its a humble pleasure of mine to garner your attention Ma'dam, Sir, I wish I knew more about you or your people, it would help us understand better. Far be it from me to delay anyone from anything they do.”

Edwin took a tip out of his glass, he was hoping to gain at least some insight in to whom he was speaking to, he thought that wasn't an unreasonable expectation.

Nathicana
Edwin smiled back cordially. “ We are more than happy to show our respects, our people haven't been around here very much, we're hoping to change that. I've been having a wonderful time your eminence, getting to learn about so many new cultures and meeting so many officials from across the galaxy is quite amazing. You throw quite a party, I hope our peoples are able to interact more we can probably learn much about our roots..I and my people are grateful that I've been allowed in this function”

Edwin wasn't incompetent with diplomacy, he just needed time to get used to the protocol's involved in addressing the different heads of state. He didn't want to bring up the subject of diplomatic relations directly after all it is a party, and the girl just got crowned leader. It would logically be better off going through their foreign office. But he made sure to mention efforts on their part to normalize things, though he made it seem like it wasn't the primary reason at all for their conversation nor his attendance here.

TGM
Edwin was elated with the outcome of his meeting, and the fact that he had possibly gained a personal relationship with the company officials. He raised his glass and nodded stating.

“Cheers, my freinds!”

This new deal would immensely help the scientific and military community, the Terrans hopped to get other powers on to their agreement, at least to start mapping the known galaxy. So Edwin clanked his glass with the other raised cups and then put the lip to his mouth sipping at the wine. He relished the taste and sighed with content.

[Roania]

The Federal Union

"It is Her Most Eternal and Radiant Majesty, The Aihyvr, the Lady of Ten Thousand Years, The Fulcrum of the Stars, The Most Beneficient and Glorious Bearer of the Imperial Diadem, whom you have the privilege and honor of speaking to." Selevar flexed unconsciously, the light shimmering off of his toned muscles, before he bowed, ever so slightly. "I am the Imperial Consort."

Alessa rolled her eyes next to him, but said nothing to contradict her husband, merely evaluating Edwin from behind her mask. "I believe we were meant to remain in costume, but it is a game I have played before, and have no interest in pursuing again. If you do not wish to reveal yourself, though, I will not hold it against you." She hesitated, and looked to her husband. The two of them engaged in a quick, almost wordless exchange before she turned back to him. "But you wished to know more? Your questions. I will hear them."

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

Xirnium

Naiya politely waved off the Jovian issue, smiling and nodding in understanding. “We have not always been the most easy of nations to deal with at times ourselves,” she murmured. A true statement, but one that cost little to admit at the moment. “It is good to know that others are of a like mind, however. I too am interested in making friends, and expanding our circle. Friends are one of the few things in life I think you can never have too many of, no? Please pass on my sincere thanks to the prime minister, the parliament, and the Republic you all represent.”

The gift was one that Naiya was truly pleased to receive. Rustic-appearing or not, her mother’s gardens had been a place of peace and tranquility for her growing up, and climbing the many trees on the property had been an excellent way to stay out from underfoot, and remain more or less unseen at those times when she was avoiding the Emperor, and seeing her brother spending all that quality time with his father. She even recalled one of those early conversations with Aeturnus, as they hid in one of the taller trees in a giardino not terribly far from where they were at currently.

“Your request is one easily granted, and with heartfelt gratitude,” she replied, reaching out to gently trace a fingertip along one of the small leaves. “As you’ve likely noticed, we value our green spaces here – hence the many campos, hanging planters, rooftop gardens, and other such oases throughout the city. Just off the Piazzo here is a lovely giardini, open to the public, and rather old itself. I think it would make a perfect home for the tree, where it could be cared for, and appreciated by not just myself, but anyone wishing to see it. I hope it will be seen for generations to come. Molto bene grazie.”




Sincere apologies, this was written back when this was done, and somehow did not get included in all the other responses. I KNEW I'd forgotten something somewhere, and thought when we spoke that I'd missed another response from you. Gah.

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

Zero-One

The man’s eyes widened momentarily in surprise, then he smiled as he just as gently kissed back. He slipped his arm more closely around her to draw her in a bit more, then slowly disengaged and swept her into the first steps of the dance.

“Always full of surprises,” he commented warmly. “I’ll bet there isn’t a man alive who you couldn’t keep on their toes and constantly guessing for as long as you cared to. And I’ll bet they would enjoy every moment of it, too.”

“At least we’re of an agreement on rules and their usefulness. I suppose there’s a time and place, but after a while, it all seems so stifling. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, as it were. As for your sense of humor, It’s likely no secret I’ve always been rather appreciative of it. I would imagine some of the meetings of your peers have been rather lively on account, if only out of their wondering whether or not you were joking, or just how much truth was hidden in jest,” he admitted as he lead them gracefully across the dance floor, nodding now and then in passing to other couples they crossed paths with.

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

The Fedral Union

“I’m aware of the difficulties surrounding your history here in the Sol system, yes,” Naiya admitted, remembering all too well some of her mother’s rants on the topic, growing up. “We were hoping as many who cared to would take advantage of the rare opportunity to mix and mingle here. It isn’t often we’re able to host such an event, and in such a positive nature. Unfortunately, all too often the resident powers meet when things are at their breaking point. And that is usually not the most appropriate time to try and make new friends.”

“I hope you’re able to enjoy yourself while you’re here. Do let us know if you need any assistance.”

[Xirnium]

‘Great Goddess, man,’ said the Baron Aubert Raphaël Nalâryn with a mixture of amusement and laughing disgust. Hooking Edwin G Vasquez around the neck, the Baron grabbed the foreign man from behind in a type of loose headlock; for all the world as if he were greeting an old Shrove-tide football chum. ‘Haven’t you ever heard of the phrase,’ he said in Edwin’s ear, with that strange formal gravity which a man so often uses in speaking a language not his native tongue, ‘“as mad as a Roanian”?’ He brought glove-thumb and -fingertip together to shape the sound of the phrase, giving a rakish, wolfish grin.

Hettie Agathrazân was the Neuvenartân fashion house which had been contracted by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to mask the Bright Republic’s diplomatic service at all masquerade events. For the coronation of Naiya d’Aquisto, the theme chosen by its designers to give character to the masqueraders was Victor Hugo’s first performance, Hernani, ou l’Honneur Castillan; a drama set in an imagined sixteenth century Spain. Be sure it mixed the sublime and the grotesque. In their masks, which were made of thin gold wire openwork and ornamented by enamelling and gems, there was much glare and glitter, piquancy and phantasm; there were delirious fancies; and much of the beautiful, much of the wanton, something of the bizarre and not a little of the terrible.

Baron Nalâryn was Hernani, the eponymous hero himself; a young outlaw and rogue who remains still a great lord; haughty in his looks. Capable of hatred, jealousy and revenge, Hernani was also ardent, tender, sentimental and pious; carnelian in his heroic love — for Doña Sol, who Lolabelle Xanthësynë was this evening. The Baron’s mask was dull red and reddish-white with chalcedony. He was still in military uniform, of a sort; he still wore belt and cross-strap and he still wore a greatcoat which had a deep shoulder cape, but he had added for his costume a special black parade cuirass with a gorget trophy worn on the breastplate and he carried a heavy cavalry sabre.

It wounded Baron Nalâryn that rescuing the foreign man from his awkward conversation meant taking his leave of the lovely Alessa Cadarea, to whom he bowed hastily but not anything less than extravagantly politely — Lolabelle would have giggled and found it cute. Goddess, what a picture! The lovely curves of lip and nostril, eyes wide with a firm little chin, and the high, round breasts pushing themselves impudently up against the dark blue gown. Lolly was always vain of her own, and wore them all but outside her dress.

And in addition to being a stunning beauty, Alessa was also as brainless as a feather mop. The corner of the poor Aubert’s mouth twitched. Even better.

But he also knew his villains, and this Selevar was a bad one; Aubert could feel the savage strength of the brute like an electric field. Baron Nalâryn knew the kind of soulless, animal cruelty behind that mask of culture.

Anyway. Had Edwin heard the phrase ‘as mad as a Roanian’?

‘Of course you have!’ Baron Nalâryn decided, throwing back his head as he laughed loudly, and slapping Edwin on the shoulder. ‘You’re a smart man!’ said the Baron as he loped forward, leading Edwin away from his floundering scene. Even Eléanor Sabelina allowed the Baron could charm when he wanted to, and in two minutes he would have the foreign man looking into a brandy glass, and soon after chatting away like old companions. ‘You know who the Roanians are,’ he said. ‘They,’ he meant Alessa and Selevar, ‘are Roanians.’

[Zero-One]

With the Verdant Gentleman

"The challenge is to keep the surprises enjoyable," the now poorly disguised--if anyone were to look at her eyes--woman replied as she followed his lead into the dance much as she had quite some time ago. "I can recall more than a few that were less than enthusiastically received by their recipients, though I must also confess that at those particular times that was the necessary point. As we've already discussed, I'm not nearly half as 'good' as you seem willing to suggest."

Her boots, while highly functional, weren't made for dancing but she still moved agilely in them, rubber soles swallowing up any noise her footfalls would otherwise make. A far cry from the wooden clacking of geta. "I've always found that the best untruths were the truth misplaced, and any good joke must have some element of truth in it. In any case, the play is improved with the inclusion of a straight man, or at least a man willing to persevere to find the difference between jest and truth, if there be any difference at all. If you'll forgive my interruption of the praises you sing to me, I must admit that you've been most pleasantly stalwart in that latter role--though perhaps it is merely a kindness done for an old woman respected perhaps beyond what her virtues would suggest appropriate. Or, perhaps, it isn't as much a matter of duty and propriety and simple hope as has been heretofore suggested." She winked slyly.

He may nod to others, but she does not. As far as anyone can tell, he has her undivided attention.

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

Lady in Red

“My dear lady, ‘good’ has always been somewhat subjective, and never so simple as some would have us believe. We are all an amalgamation of experiences. Would you be the same today had things been different then? Were useful things learned in spite of any morality-labeling? Methinks the lady doth protest overmuch. That, or enjoys those twitches elicited by some when reminded that the lady in question is entirely capable of anything she chooses – good, bad, unimaginably beneficial, unthinkably horrifying ... It does help to keep some at a distance, one supposes. And with enough distance, perhaps a offers a measure of safety that such situations subtly referred to do not have the opportunity of happening again,” the man replied thoughtfully, his voice low and measured, intended only for her.

His hazel eyes shifted from her only enough now to assure their lack of collision with the other dancers. “Add to this, one might examine those you surround yourself with. It’s truly an interesting blend. We’ve a saying – Dimmi con chi vai e ti dirò chi sei. More or less, that you can know one by those they associate with. Some among those have never trusted easily, nor often. And in this situation at least, I believe they chose well.”

“The straight man? Perhaps. I am fairly simple by comparison. Though I would never presume to insult you by suggesting you were in need of my sympathy, or that any attentions were out of some sense of duty – such as my sense of such goes,” he continued, taking them both through a turn for a change of direction. “I admit to being somewhat of a dreamer, though. And on occasion, I’ve been given to flights of fancy, or desiring things not within my reach. Not that this stops me dreaming, or desiring. Far better to aim for the stars, hm? Sometimes simple hope can be a beautiful thing.”

He smiled at that, his enjoyment of the moment reflected in his eyes, and the little wrinkles at their corners. "It's been far too long, m'lady. And yes, I believe this night to be just as miraculous in my mind as that first one, and for the same reasons. Molto bene grazie.”

[Roania]

DLN

"Ah ... si tratta di una farsa, una presa in giro. Lei prende se stessa troppo sul serio, è bene ricordare a lei c'è molto che lei non sa. Te lo prometto, io non sono legato a questa donna ... . avuto una offerta migliore, mia signora??" Nesar bowed lightly, and Daria quickly did the same, feeling somewhat confused and a serious temper growing behind her eyes. His tone was certainly not appropriate for speaking about her, whatever it was he was saying.

"I do wish you would tell me what you were saying., Must I make an imperial injunction over it, Nesar Cheruv?" This was familiar ground for her. Fury with the annoying rogue; with all men in general, especially those who thought to take advantage of her temporary ignorance.

"Ah, ah, mia moglie." Nesar held his finger up, and gave her his best cheshire cat grin. "I do not believe our lady would approve of you making that threat lightly."

"Right." Daria grew quiet herself, just for a moment. A momentary blossom of color flowed behind her eyes, and then she shook her head, putting any thoughts behind her and desperately looking for a distraction from the horrible, cruel man she was with.. "My lady Neslae, I hope you will forgive my question, but you certainly seem... well. Is there aught I may do for you?" Her ears twitched for a moment, and she forced a smile where one did not wish to appear. The Empress had spoken of her fondness for the Dominion and its rulers, and it was her duty as a 'loyal servant' to seek answers to this matter, especially as Alessa was so distracted with her new child. Rewards could be in the offering... and it pained Daria to see a proud woman seem so out of sorts.

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

Scolopendra

On arrival, Wolf turned to the pair he’d been accompanying, bowed politely, and extended his hand to Sekhmet, his eyes on the Knight. “If it wouldn’t be too forward to ask, Sir Knight, may I have the honor of a dance with your beautiful Goddess – with her permission as well, of course.”

Near to hand, Raven approached, two glasses in her hands. “I’d be happy to keep the good Knight company in the meantime, should all be in favor,” she said, gesturing to the drinks she was holding. Given their knowledge of certain family member’s closest companions, it might be no surprise to recognize another behind the bird mask.

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

Roania – Nesar/Daria

Nathicana’s eyes showed a familiar intensity that she’d seemed to lack up to this point, for just a moment. “Suonate un pericoloso gioco, signore. Spero sappiate quello che fai. Una donna disprezzata è preda pericolosa.”

“My pardon, Lady,” she then said, turning to Daria. “When faced with those who know our language, it is all too easy to slip into it, like a favorite pair of slippers, or comfortable blanket. Appolgies. Perhaps you and I could stop by the tables there to get a drink, and sit somewhere quiet for a few moments to talk. All this pageantry and performance can be somewhat tiresome, especially to those unused to our peculiarities. I’m sure your companion can look out for himself for a short while at least, yes? Men can be such a distraction to polite conversation at times. The posturing, the point-scoring, the perusal of ou assets ...”

Here she smiled cooly at Nesar, one brow arched up behind her mask, her chin tilting up in that telltale manner she had. “Surely you wouldn’t mind, would you? A little girl talk. Forse offrono l'opportunità scoprire che offerte migliori?”

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

New Naggoroth

There were a pair of revelers at least who took more than a passing interest at the sisters as they made their entrance.

Dragon nodded subtly in their direction, and Anubis tilted his head slightly, and nodded. “The worst they can say is no. God knows I’ve been turned down by women half as pretty as they. At least we can say we tried.”

“You can say you tried,” rumbled Dragon, his deep voice matching his larger, bulkier form. “I intend on succeeding.”

“Succeed, fail – my friend, I’m afraid it is out of our hands. Do either of those ladies look particularly frail or weak-willed to you?” asked Anubis.

“Not an inch – that’s part of why they’re so attractive,” Dragon replied honestly.

“Age before beauty,” quipped Anubis, gesturing for his friend to lead the way, which he did. They arrived at more or less the same time, with Dragon facing Scarlet, and Anubis, Ellenith.

“I don’t suppose you lovely ladies are in want of a dance partner,” asked Anubis, each of them bowing slightly while keeping their eyes on the women.”

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

Xirnium

To say that Fox was a mischievous sort would be an understatement. To say he didn’t know his limits, much the same. He was however, much taken with the ladies, and a beautiful sight such as the momentarily not-as-accompanied Lolabelle was too tempting an opportunity to pass up.

Not that he expected much, of course. Sometimes the pleasure was in the trying. Nor was he intending on absconding anywhere with said woman any time soon. He was still on the job, so to speak, though not as officially as others who were even now making the rounds.

She was beautiful. She caught his eye. And having little to nothing to lose, the not-terribly-tall man sauntered up in his red, black, and white ensemble with tasteful gold trim no less, and bowed to the lady with a flourish.

“A crime, signorina. A crime I say, that you are not the center of attention out there,” he said, gesturing to where others were dancing. “ Would you accept the humble offer to take a turn around the dance floor?”

[Scolopendra]

Wolf and Raven

The good white knight looked up to his companion and bowed ever so slightly, the motion amplified by his helm's feathered crest. "The laws of chivalry give me no option but to defer to the wishes of good ladies of gentle stock and the divine. As the Mistress of Dread officially qualifies as both, I can do naught but she wills."

The huntress-goddess smirked slightly. "So that meant if I commanded you to do a cartwheel, on your honor..."

"That is the logical extreme, m'lady, but it is my duty to the innocent to recommend the common good unto power, and there isn't that much room around here and I'm covered in steel."

"Noted, Sir Knight." The One Before Whom Evil Trembles looked down at the Wolf, which was something of a given considering her stature. "You may have this honor, Good Friend Wolf." She accepted his hand with an appropriately Cleopatran air.

"Have fun storming the castle," the knight called after the two as the Wolf carted off the Lioness. He then turned to the Raven, and among this friends this close for this long disguise was a lost cause. Then again, given the nature of his costume, and who he'd associated with all night, obfuscation of identity was probably not particularly high on his list of priorities. In any case, he accepted the glass with one gauntleted hand and extracted his straw with the other. "And here I have to resist the urge to request a sitrep, but I figure that dining rules apply so no opening of the hangar doors." Nevertheless, his head does sweep from left to right at a practiced pace. "Sorry, m'lady, I broke character there for a moment." He idly brought the glass up to his helmet's and sniffed, just checking for the presence or absence of alcohol. The latter would be preferred.

[Xirnium]

Jean-Thómas was pleased with Naiya’s courtesy, and he bowed with deferential respect. In his brief interview, he had been greatly impressed with the woman’s sober intelligence, her clearly generous heart and her discretion. He grinned. ‘Thank you, your Majesty.’ Her careless pardon was a prize for which Jean-Thómas would have parted with enough treasure from the Exchequer’s coffers to match every one on displayed in the room (imagine explaining that expense claim to the Minister!); and yet it could never be bought.

Nothing had charmed Jean-Thómas more, however, than the Imperatrice’s own (modest maybe, reserved certainly; but so had his own been) mea culpa. He acknowledged the noble concession with a private, collegial gesture. ‘Madam, you honour us with your confidence,’ he said. Then, in a tone expressing oblique yet obvious and genuine praise of Naiya: ‘“If you cannot say what you mean”, your Majesty, “you will never mean what you say; and a prince should always mean what he says”.’

Lolabelle stared at Jean-Thómas, vaguely recognising the quotation (but how on earth had he actually remembered it; oh my goddess, what a nerd!) from Annâtar’s First Eclectic Reader, a graded primer for young children in the Bright Republic. So, a bit of cultural exchange; a friendly sentiment, offered not imposed.

‘If you will excuse me, your Majesty, I will not detain you longer. I trust that you will remember me as your friend and obedient servant in the Bright Republic; herself a friend of the Dominion. By your leave, madam.’

‘Good evening, your Majesty,’ said Lolabelle in her slightly sing-song voice, like a schoolgirl concentrating hard. ‘I’m so happy to know you!’

There was an abbreviated flurry in the room as the ambassador retired and strolled out with his companions, followed by their secretaries; then there was some unavoidable clashing and stamping, almost drowning out the soft whisper of spurs, as their ceremonial detachment, two white cuirassiers in full fig (starched cartwheel ruffs, high plumed helmets, the whole lot) disappeared behind them, departing from where they had stationed themselves like statues on either side of Naiya’s doorway.

Now... Lolabelle, of course, was Doña Sol; and naturally Jean-Thómas was Don Carlos, the profligate young king and a foil to Hernani. Doña Sol was of noble birth, proud and jealous of her blood, but kind and gentle. She wept, blushed and was ingenious; she was an angel, a flower, a Venus, and a treasure of beauty which made a king jealous. Lolabelle’s half-mask was white, the emblem of innocence and immaculate purity, decorated in ‘mutton-fat’ white nephrite jade and brilliant-cut diamond. Her costume was also white, although she had changed into a new white outfit; a strapless, sleek, curve-hugging dress; the immaculate colour of pearl with a leg-loving length. But definitely too thin for someone who would be naked underneath! Her knife-pleated skirt showed off her legs to tremendous advantage, her arms and shoulders were completely bare, and her naked breasts peaked out from their voile covering.

Jean-Thómas liked her outfit; he watched Lolabelle in her hotel room fastening her earrings, her necklace, her bracelets. Behind his ears, fiery teeth penetrated his head, invaded muscle fibres, drove him out of his own body as the wildness which he well knew surged through his blood; another moment, and his hands were no longer his, so terrible his intoxication with the nakedness of this woman’s body. Lolabelle considered letting Jean throw her on the bed to take her for the second time today, she really did (her little sighs and whimpers told him that); but eventually Lolly protested that she wanted to see the masquerade.

‘Great Goddess, woman!’

Eyes wide at him as she readjusted her neckline, making sure no pink tips were visible, she grinned and mouthed: ‘Sorry!’

Back in the Piazza, as they strolled towards the dancehall, Jean-Thómas talked easily with Aubert about the outcome of their audience with Naiya; about returning to the Bright Republic with a TNA free-trade agreement to be ratified; and about a Xirniumite orbital segment on the Machiavelli international space station. Lolabelle found the guy’s conversation quite boring, and so stupid! She had heard that sort of conversation numerous times and was never able to make any sense of it; it was a kind of scientific, encyclopaedic nonsense that demanded a clear-cut contribution, an extremely difficult request to make of a girl who was in the mood for dancing.

Lolabelle yawned.

‘Keeping you awake, Lolly?’ Jean-Thómas reached round behind her, to run his fingers down her spine through the sleek dress she wore.

She nodded, looking down and biting her lip. ‘Uh-huh.’

Of course, their work conversation was hobbled slightly by Lolly’s presence; ordinarily, the Baron Nalâryn and Jean-Thómas would have begun by discussing whether either would sleep with the woman (the verdict was customarily a summary ‘yes’; and certainly this time), and then what they liked most about her. Then all the other women they knew. Then maybe Shrove-tide football. Then, if they had time, work.

‘Buy me a drink, Jean.’ She whined. ‘I want a Bellini.’

Jean-Thómas considered this. Aubert had since wondered off in search of sport (five or six women had passed; and all of them pretty), and he would have to leave Lolly on her own for a moment. She noticed his indecision and stuck out her lip at him. Alright, fine; Great Goddess, woman. ‘Don’t take candy from any strangers, okay?’

Lolabelle giggled. ‘Shut up.’

Then she was alone, leaning against the little zinc table in her flirty, fit-and-flair dress, in her pure nakedness. She wondered abstractedly whether she should remain annoyed at the guys for not entertaining her, so that she could watch them jump through hoops, attempting to appease her, when they returned. She had worn a new dress! But her thoughts were soon cut short when she realised she had attracted male attention from a new source.

Lolabelle, all blonde bewilderment, looked at the Fox, open-mouthed.

She giggled at the (okay, kind of lame, but whatever) compliment, showing her slightly-protruding white teeth. Well, he was kind of cute. More importantly, her grumpiness had now metamorphosed; there was now a really dangerous expression on her face, and the Fox saw a flash of evil in her eyes. Lolly stretched her face, her arms and her breasts that seemed about to burst the fabric of her dress, in the Fox’s direction, and she parted her lips a little. There was a wanton look about her eye and lower lip.

‘Take me away from here.’ Lolabelle giggled, glancing about quickly in case Jean-Thómas was coming back. Aw, poor guy; but he needed to learn his lesson! Swinging her long, bare legs, leaping lightly to her feet, she balanced on night-right heels. ‘Let’s dance over there, that way!’ she said, pulling the man’s arm. She had very lovely arms, they were completely bare.

When Jean-Thómas returned with their drinks, the table was unambiguously empty. He blinked, twice.

‘Hm.’

[The Garbage Men]

TFU

With the successful completion of this little human tradition, the clinking of glasses that is, they both went and sipped their glasses, taking the time necessary to savour the taste of the champagne and the moment.

Once however the moment had just started to drag on, it was time for the couple to leave. “We hate to dash off so quickly but unfortunately we are quite busy and have a few other meetings to make before the Masquerade starts.” Dominique Desorté-Ryder started setting the stage.

“But, here… take our card. It has contact details for our office. You’ll probably have to leave a message but we will definitely get it.” Trevor reached out into his pocket and presented Edwin what looked like an old traditional-style business card. I seemed to be inked with Trevor’s name and titles but it also had miniaturised, and resilient circuitry.

It would by default passively detect communication protocols in use and alter the “ink” to display the appropriate information for whatever system was used locally. If the system isn’t successfully detected, either because there isn’t an easily detectable signal or because the system is unknown then only Trevor’s name and title would be displayed. This could be turned off by manually choosing which contact information to display by holding onto a square in the bottom right corner of the card.

With a farewell of “It was a pleasure meeting you.” From Dominique and “It was a pleasure doing business I’m sure we’ll meet again.” From Trevor the two disappeared out the front door to prepare for their next meeting, the meeting with the new Imperatrice.

Dread Lady Nathicana

Even though the Desortés were busy, the recently coronated Imperatrice Naiya D’Acquisto would have been busier by a factor so staggeringly large that it would cause any normal person’s head to explode, and yet they still had to opportunity to meet with her.

There was a bit of a wait and line, which was to be expected, but that hadn’t at all put off the CEO and owners of The Garbage Men. When it was their turn they were suitable announced and they entered hand in hand, approaching the new most powerful woman in the Dominion.

“Imperatrice, congratulations on your ascendance to the Dominion throne.” Trevor started, slightly formal until his wife gave him a quick jab in the ribs. “What?”

“She’s probably had thousands of people come through here see nothing but her title. She’s a person not a hand-shaking machine.” Dominique then turned her attention to Naiya. “It’s a great pleasure to finally meet you, and it probably would be a dramatic understatement that it’s been a big day for you.”

[Delmonte]

It was cool at this time of year in the Grand City of Delmonte. Hangings were tied between the colonnades of the various palaces to preserve warmth, but some were allowed to flutter in the brisk wind. The occasional smell of foliage would even blow in across the narrow channel from time to time. More frequently, Cesare would detect the scent of smoke and the sound of distant cries carried to him on a breeze that would take his breath away. More than once, he had to turn away from the wind to fill his lungs. He gulped down some of his hot toddy and shrugged his overcoat into a warmer position.

"Is there an... occurrence today, Ludo?"

His uncle, and the Chancellor of Foreign Nations, swallowed some of his own warm drink before responding. When he did so, his breath made an enormous cloud in the air.

"A pogrom. Muslims over there..." he gestured towards one of the Grand City's many harbors "Didn't pay their extortions. The Templars are doing their business now, as you can see, without burning the place down."

It was true that over the last eight centuries, the Delmontese chapter of the Knights Templar had become more reserved in their pogroms. This was due largely to the fact that, in exchange for not wiping them out in the Persecution, the Grand Republic had incorporated them into itself. And, because nothing ever really changes in Delmonte, they were still here today, alternately smashing and burning the furnishings (particularly those having to do with worship) of Delmonte's Muslim inhabitants who were late in payment to their Order. Truly, it was a grand old time when it happened. Sales of liquors and confections skyrocketed as Catholics and Jews flocked to watch the spectacle.

Cesare nodded and motioned the servant who had accompanied them to the balcony to leave. Ludovico sighed and finished his thought, "The strong do what they want while the weak suffer what they must, as we know."

"And the weak cater to the strong."

"I believe you've carried this metaphor beyond what I intended, Most Serene One." Ludovico called his nephew by his official title jokingly.

"Nathicana D'Aquisto is having a coronation for the new... Dread-what-have-you."

"Oh?"

"You'll be in attendance."

"Oh..." Ludovico looked down into the brownish mixture that was his drink. How something that bore such a resemblance to shit could taste so delightful was momentarily fascinating to him.

"Fine. I'll go as Bacchus I suppose..." the Chancellor responded, "But when I return I am retiring to my Winter Piazzo."

"Uncle, it's barely Autumn." Cesare sipped the last of his drink and placed the tumbler on the frigid marble of the balcony rail.

"I've gone to and fro on the behalf of the Most Serene Republic and I deserve a break for a few months. There are younger men who can present themselves at foreign courts and what-not. At least for that time. I'm more than capable of conducting the business of the Chancellery from D'Zarro."

Cesare waved his hand in acquiescence. Then continued, "Vereba wants eyes and ears of her own there, but fears sending a delegation of her own would be... unwelcome. Therefore, as a favor to her, you and whoever you choose will be accompanied by Ixina Varys."

"The ambassador from the Empire. I know her well, as I ought to. To her credit, she seems practical; a rare trait for a woman. I wouldn't be disturbed for her to be a part of my company. Will she be bringing any of her staff or attendants with her?"

"Absolutely not. The Empress made it very clear that Ixina's presence was in no way or form to resemble an official delegation from the Empire. If something goes wrong, you see, the Empress will have nothing to lose. She is there on the pretense of accompanying you in case any matters should arise between our nation and that of the Batorys. In reality, you are there to accompany her for the same reason. If I need to hammer anything out with Vereba, I'd like to have her ambassador and my Foreign Chancellor in the same place. That being said, this is an opportunity. Xirmium will be there, a nation we have ties with, but could do with closer ones. They're a very democratic nation that manages to maintain a nobility."

"So you see a potential for strong marriages without being called king-fuckers by the other families." Ludovico stated.

"Precisely. I thought we'd be on the same page and I see now that we are. I've really gotten quite good at this, I think."

Ludovico drained his drink and chuckled as he exited the balcony. He had gotten much better since his election to Doge. Ludovico opted to take Bernardino Dellaconte. He wasn't a member of their family, but he was a seasoned ambassador, a grizzled war hero, and the descendant of more than one Delmontese saint.

When they had arrived, Ixina had immediately made her excuses and flitted off somewhere or another, promising she'd find them shortly thereafter. Ludovico found her black eyes and pale white skin difficult to trust, but figured she was closer to being his ally than anyone else here and made nothing of it. He and Bernardino had lingered at a drink table with some other guests of little import and watched the scene between the Xirniumites and the Roanians develop. When the girl had left and Jean-Thomas had returned, Ludovico nodded to Bernardino signalling that now was the right time to approach. On his way over, Ludovico made eye contact with a server, politely informing him that he would need drinks over there now.

As he arrived, Ludovico saw Jean-Thomas' confusion and, after he had gotten his attention, said "I believe your female company is away learning what the fox says. Probably for the best... Allow me to introduce ourselves. I'm Ludovico Di Canossa, I'm the Chancellor of Foreign Nations for Delmonte. This is my friend, Bernardino Dellaconte."

Bernardino made his greetings and Ludovico continued.

"Tell me, what would you think of the Delmontese as friends to Xirnium?" Ludovico sipped his drink while casting a nervous eye to the fracas that was brewing between the Baron and his Roanian friends.

[Zero-One]

Man in Green

"Perhaps, perhaps," the red-coated lady replied, dancing gracefully under the Green Man's direction. "I must note that, considering basic psychology, all your analytical hypotheses are not mutually exclusive. They could all be true, or none, or true in varying degrees or combinations. I could add, without admitting to anything, that additional motivations could be to maintain a sense of mystery in order to generate interest, or to establish the distance mentioned not necessarily as a defensive mechanism but perhaps as a challenge, a method of gauging reactions and evaluating those behind them."

She smiled as she spoke, maintaining an inhumanly steady eye contact broken only by the necessities of the dance. Her low, independent tone clashed with her total willingness to be lead in the motions, following her partner's signals expertly. "As for the social orbits I maintain... I may just be willing to admit a degree of accuracy in your analysis. It may be quite telling regarding my priorities and what I happen to subjectively consider 'good' in this relativistic world of ours, as produced by the history you summed up so concisely." The criminal woman tilted her head slightly. "Of course, I mustn't be so open as to fully reveal anything--that would be against the rules." She winked.

"Non c’è di che," she replied to his thanks. "It is entirely my pleasure that I have managed thus far to live up to the expectations of pleasant memory. Considering this, and all we have discussed, I also can't allow you to be the only bold one." She stepped in closer, turning the separation of the dance from polite to personal. "These dreams, these fancies, these desires"--a low, mischievous emphasis on the word as her voice drops from 'personal' to 'conspiratorial'--"what are they?" She grinned. "I dare to ask that most threatening of questions: 'what do you want?'"

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

Xirnium – Lolabelle

As soon as the look in her eyes turned predatory, Fox knew he was in a world of trouble. Of course he had asked for it, but …

“Sante Maria, madre del dio … he breathed quietly as he escorted the decidedly beautiful lady in the direction she’d indicated, with all due care, while trying not to be too distracted by her bountiful décolletage.

From across the way, the steampunk Valkyrie’s eyes widened, then her lips turned up in a broad grin. Whispering something to the gentleman she was speaking with, having to stretch up on her tiptoes to do it, given his greater height, they both looked in Fox’s direction and shared a quiet laugh.

Oh, he was never going to live this down, one way or another, she would make sure of it. He put his friends out of mind as he turned and carefully placed a hand on his partner’s slim waist, and gently taking her hand in his to begin the dance.

“It seems I have unwittingly asked the grace of a Goddess,” he said, looking into her angelic face, and keeping his eyes firmly riveted there as best he could. The way her body moved under the thin material of her dress was having the predicted response, and behind his reddish mask, his face began to try and imitate the coloring. “You’ve travelled far to come here? I ask because I’m certain I would have noticed so enchanting a woman by now, were you local.”

If his voice seemed a bit more husky, perhaps it could be excused, given the effort it took to maintain his charming – or so he thought it at least – demeanor. He came from much simpler means, and though unused to brushing shoulders with all the movers and shakers of the international community as he was able to here, he had always been one to at least pretend there was more to him than his past history with La Famiglia, and subsequent service in the military.

At least these days, he hoped there was more substance to his good-natured posturing than there had been.

“I can only hope your worshippers won’t take it amiss that you’ve chosen to grant a humble mischief-maker his impudent request,” he finished, teasing and yet somewhat concerned all the same, given the circumstances. Jealous husbands had been a problem on more than one occasion – something his friend the Valkyrie knew all too well, hence her amusement. Damned if he wanted a repeat performance here tonight of some of those ‘complicated negotiations’.

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

Scolopendra – Leonid Goddess

Wolf bowed again to the Knight, then lead on the Goddess with all the reverence one of her station deserved, taking up an appropriate dance pose with hands respectfully placed and distance between properly observed. The fact that she was even so, a good deal taller than him was to be expected. He made no fuss on account, smiling close-lipped from behind his mask.

“Bene grazia, mia Dia,” he said as he began to lead. “I thought perhaps, knowing some little background, that I might be of service in some small regard. I don’t recall that dancing is terribly comfortable in full plate. All the same, it would be a shame if you were not allowed to dominate the dance floor at least once during the night, as befitting a goddess.”

His tone was friendly as ever, the inherent gentle teasing he was certain would be understood by one he knew was not only witty, but had an excellent sense of humor. “The lady of honor is very pleased that your family was able to attend. I know you have a special place in her heart.

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

Scolopendra – Il Cavaliere Bianco

“Most assuredly free, as is mine,” Raven assured him as she added a straw to her own drink. “Juice – a local grape blend. There’s a time and a place for rules. For family of course, there are exceptions. Besides, it isn’t breaking character to maintain the proper awareness and concern for those in your care.”

“All is well, and everything appears to be going smoothly. There are no problems perceived or otherwise, and all the revelers seem to be enjoying themselves to varying degrees. I think for now you can be at relative ease, Sir Knight.”

“Is there anything we can do to help you enjoy your visit,” she asked, pausing to take a sip from her glass as she stood next to the man and seemed to casually survey the room. “I believe the phrase ‘anything within reason’ was prominent in our instructions for certain guests, among whom you and yours figure rather prominently.”

“Famiglia,” she added with a subtle shrug, as if that explained it all. To any familiar with Dominion natives, no doubt it did.

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

The Garbage Men – Fluid Time

Naiya smiled warmly, and it soon turned into more of a grin as Dominique gently chastised her husband. She approached the couple, and greeted them in more of the continental style, with a gentle embrace of the shoulders, and brushed kiss on each cheek. “I swear, Machiavelli wouldn’t be nearly so clean and well-maintained if not for your magnificent services. As the most visible of our assets out there in the Sol system, believe me – it has been crucial in some of our first impressions. I want to thank you both for the outstanding service your corporation has offered – and for your attendance and well-wishes here today.”

“I hope you both, and your family have been well? Business steady, stocks on the rise?” she asked conversationally.

[New Edom]

Xirnium: Jean-Thomas

Mara burst out laughing at the sight of him standing comically clearly stood up, and put a hand to her mouth. "I'm terribly sorry," she said "I don't mean to mock, but it was so obvious a picture of 'where'd she go' that you could make a painting of it or show it in a silent movie!" She was all in crimson, blue and gold, her white porcelain doll’s mask held by Tegan, her gown was transparent but layered cunningly so that it only showed hints and shadows that suggested a curve of hip or leg, but never quite revealed anything. Long embroidered gloves were on her arms and hands, and bare shoulders and slender neck peeped out from the flowing leaf like layers of her costume. Her long lustrous chestnut hair was piled into a crown.

Mara was discreetly shadowed by her own RPS, and with always two of her maids floating nearby but pretending not to notice anything, but Thomas Lalery had had to go off and take an important call about some crisis at home; he was becoming a thorough bore in some ways. Normally he would have been making her laugh, distracting her, but the moment he had realized it was mostly just a social occasion, he had left her for that. No doubt to plot behind her back, the swine. Well, that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy herself...