Gaze of the Abyss [Closed RP]

[Skeelzania]

When the plates were laid down in front of the Skeelzanians, all talk by them ceased. Plying their utensils like they were in battle, the three diligently tore through their meals. If one cared to observe, it would be noted that even devouring a bowl of blueberries, the Skeelzanians never relinquished their grip of their knives.

It wasn’t until their plates were cleared and their glasses half empty (or more, in Temur’s case) that they saw fit to comment. “Remarkable,” Iskander said as he rubbed his beard down with a napkin. “A truly exquisite selection of dishes. This boar would be a credit to any in the Mahon Highlands. The cheese is an innovation I very much admire as well.”

“I fully agree with Herr Sebeksberg,” concurred Zemstaldt. “I typically do not care much for the mixing of meat and fruit, but I found the contrast delightfully striking.”

Temur’s compliments were cut short by the urgent stifling of a belch, but were of much the same sentiment.

Settling back in his seat, his hands clasped across his belly, Sebeksberg waited for the other’s to finish. ‘A vulgar habit, trying to carry on a conversation whilst consuming,’ he thought to himself. Once a definite lull in the meal arose, he did see fit to comment. “Again, most exquisite. I trust that this is all shipped in from off-world? Or are the wonders of this megalopolis even more extensive than we previously believed, if you are to raise such prime meats here.”

[Largent]

Upon the food's arrival, savoring his meal became Bismark's sole concern. While he would never willingly admit it, he had come to love food, perhaps, a little too much in recent years. While during his youth he had sported a tall and lean build, he had added ten to fifteen pounds to that frame in the past five or so years. Nevertheless, he refused to allow a little cholesterol to stand between him and a delicious meal. Consequently, he all but removed himself from conversation during dinner, speaking only to pay his compliments to the chefs.

Imnel, on the other hand appeared far less interested in the meal and continued his conversation with the Midlonian. "That really is quite fascinating. Sadly, Largent has yet to really tackle the issue of sentient rights as a nation. I suppose we have never really had problems with injustice toward sentient robots, but there is certainly an unspoken sentiment that non-organic life is of secondary importance. Frankly, until recently, such an issue would have been laughed out of the Imperial Palace. However, I'm hoping that our nations trend towards progressivism will continue, and I have no doubts that such a trend is on a collision course with the Sentient Rights issue.

"On a different note, however, may I ask what first inspired you and your government to make the arduous journey to Orion?"

[Steel Butterfly]

Eric yawned, checking his watch. Their dinner had run late, which was never a bad thing in the case of diplomacy, however it meant that more serious matters would have to be postponed until after the tour tomorrow.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Eric announced. He stood, taking the thick cloth napkin from his lap and placing it on his emptied plate. “I must thank you for an engaging dinner, however I feel it is time that we retire to our beds in preparation for tomorrow’s activities. Sleeping arraignments will be provided upon request, and the manager will do anything and everything to ensure that your stay is of the utmost comfort.”

At that, the Imperial delegation stood, bowed their heads to some and shook the hands of others, and then left the banquet room.

[Crimmond]

Fisk's transport took him back up to the waiting battlecruiser. By now, it would have been identified as the CSS Castle. The same ship that was in service when the Steel Empire pulled out of their Earth colony. That it's still operational at all is both frightening and amazing, given it's combat record. Which includes five separate instances where she literally rammed enemy vessels when her weapon's systems were crippled.

In the morning, the transport would travel back down, depositing Fisk again. This time he was in a much more casual outfit of polished black boots, silk trousers and shirt and a leather vest. The tall, rotund African man again was alone, knowing he had nothing to fear on this planet. After all, he was his own security detachment.

He made his way through the building to the location for the tour and was mildly surprised to find he was the first arrival. He walked up to the Orions and grinned. "A tour of the empire is in order, so I've been informed. Be interesting to see what you people have been up to since that nasty business that drove you off Earth."

He looks around. "So, what's first? A quick walkthrough of your planetary security network's main control center?" he sounded... almost hopeful. But that was expected, with his background. The Orions would have had time to look up the Crimm representative by now and know that he had twice been in charge of Imperial internal security. All police and related agencies answered to him. He knew every nook and cranny of the Empire like the backs of his rather large, pudgy hands. There were also mentions of him jumping from landing aircraft and walking away unharmed... there was a reason he had no bodyguard. He'd likely end up protecting his would be protector, if something were to happen.

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

In keeping with their intent to experience all the nation had to offer, the Dominion party chose to take advantage of whatever amenities were available to them by their hosts. They bid the party farewell and each couple left arm in arm, chatting comfortably with one another in their native language, seemingly quite at ease.

However the night passed, the entire group was ready the next morning at the appointed time, dressed in nice yet casual wear with comfortable walking shoes, all save the soldati, who continued to dress in their unrelieved black and armored long coats, looking as enigmatic as ever.

“Ladies, gentlemen,” Calabrese said by way of greeting on their arrival. “I trust everyone slept well?”

“Some perhaps more than others,” Miss Villanova quipped quietly, giving di Medici’s arm a little squeeze. He winked at her in turn, and nodded his approval.

“I for one wish to thank our hosts for the comfortable rooms, and that delicious dinner last night.” di Medici stretched slightly, then slipped his arm back around his companion’s shoulders. “We’ve truly felt welcome.”