Announcements and Celebration (Lords of the Fringe)

[Arage Bao]

"My pebbles are your pebbles." the always Mentalist answered her quiet thoughts with the grin that was becoming rarer by the day. Aye, it felt good to be under people again, their people even. He had been so involved in his own plots, schemes and hoarding-mentality that he had almost forgotten what life was really about. It wasn't that shiny holocron stashed in tomb x, or shares in company y, it were the little things. Like sharing some cake with a good friend. It was being amongst family, because that was the Fringe, a tight community and the Crusade would experience that first hand.

At least that was his hope with this union, Solo had done well, very well indeed. He pushed over another plate towards [member="Matsu Xiangu"] and simply savored the sight of the Fringe returning to its roots. It had taken sacrifices, pain, perhaps blood, but it was a step in the right direction according to the not-Sith Lord.

His eyes met hers, a serious expression on his face. It seemed he was about to ask an important question indeed. Gravitas. Serenity. The moment turned eternity. "How is the cake?"

 

[Kitt Solo]

[member="Anders Sivas"]

She felt Andra's mix of emotions before the approach. "Hey girl," she didn't hesitate in hugging her friend warmly, oblivious to any changes to the council and their underlying reasons. She had been out of touch by choice.

She caught a glimpse of [member="Darth Vornskr"] over Andra's shoulder and immediately stiffened.

"We should catch up sometime but I have to go."

She couldn't be in the same room any longer with that man. Right about now she was really missing some [member="Flint Michigan"]. If only she knew he was there too! Her secret was out so it wouldn't be any weirder than usual.

 

[Ereza]

"No, but thank you," Inari replied kindly to [member="Serian Loria"], indicating her glass of blodwyne, still more than adequately full.

"I do not sleep," came her next reply, a rather simple statement of fact, "but my meditations have been troubled with visions of things to come," a somber smile barely touched her lips, and even behind her mask the woman's blue eyes seemed sad. She looked to Serian, quietly considering the man. He'd come to Moross, so close to death they believed he'd pass within a day. Yet she'd sensed something within him and against what might've been the better judgement of others she'd saved him. Serian had never been forced to stay, nor to repay any sort of debt against his life. He'd been given a second chance and the opportunity to start anew, to find a purpose, and that is exactly what he did. There would be no better show of gratitude, all things considered, even if it was not gratitude that kept him there.

Part of her sadness was that, in the end, he'd been forced to do it all again. Inari did not feel guilty but she certainly understood what hardships her people would face in the coming months. Finding their place here was not going to be without it's challenges.

"...it is why we have come here," Inari continued, voice low and soft, a frown pulling at her lips, "to better weather the oncoming days with other strong people like those of the Fringe."

 

[Dissero]

It was probably better that Soliael hadn't approached.

Better for Dissero, not necessarily better for Sol. Likely he'd not be so bored, but rather entertained at seeing his much younger Uncle get dealt the effects of a Vaapad Lesson.

"Hhhhhhhhhhoooooyeah," deer in headlights was an apt description. He placed one hand on the table to steady the chamber around him which had suddenly started to undulate.

Another cough, hard blink.

"Again!" Dissero raised his glass to cheers with [member="Manu Xextos"] and then took another swig.

WELP.

What were they talking about?

 

[Ibaris Varanin]

She didn't purposely cause trouble, but she was curious and to push a metaphorical button just to see what happened as a consequence to that action was well within that curiosity, and she had discovered and catalogued a lot of buttons. 'If, then...' was the basis of her modus operandi, possibility and experimentation her playground; already at the bright, young age of seven she had gotten it in her head that if you wanted something done, it was probably best to do it yourself... at least to the extent of your physical limitations.

She was only seven, after all.

It was then that the increasingly not-so-little and not-so-squirt received the ping of words in her head from one of the least boring people she knew. Eyes went wide at the imagery that the simple four-letter word of 'cake' put into her head, and she was squirming through the many gathered - in a dress of all things! - now distracted from whatever hell she may or may not have been about to set upon this gala. It wasn't until she had spent a good three minutes trying to figure out with her eyes just where her uncle was in this monstrous ballroom when it occurred to her that maybe she should ping him back.

'You better not let her eat all the cake.'

Then she squeezed out into an open area. As a seven year old, the majority of her 'unspoken' threats were things she couldn't back up. Not to mention that her godfather seemed fairly impervious to whatever threat the now-fully grown Adas presented, in terms of being mentally assailed... but Adas was a big dog. Adas was waaaaaay taller than she was when he stood on his hind legs, and wasn't all that much shorter than her on all fours, and Adas was following her... not that anyone could see that. Adas could do things that even she couldn't (perhaps not yet), but it seemed that everyone could. At least the books she was being given to read these days were a lot more interesting, and that helped - of course, she couldn't help but wonder if her godfather had been making her Papa privy to their conversations.

Nothing was private. Clearly. Finally, she huffed a sigh and decided to feel the old, grey man out. By now this was definitely something she could do without closing her eyes or standing still, which she still did have to do when Adas was still very much a puppy, and after a moment of stretching out, she found him, eyes following the track of her search to the target.

"Come on, Adas. There's cake, and it's calling my name."

Adas, for his part, had finally learned not to bark every time he was talked to. Another minute, and Ibaris had made short work of finding her way to the table at which Uncle [member="Jared Ovmar"] was seated, with a dark-haired lady she was sure she hadn't met yet. She stopped, pulled out a chair, and slipped her skinny, four-foot-four self onto the seat, hands splayed on the tabletop. Immediately, her hazel eyes fixated on the old man and she gave him an unusually pleasant smile.

"Cake, please?"

A chuff came from the invisible canine. Her eyes glanced sidelong to the space the barkspawn supposedly occupied, some vague, wavering smile fighting to make it into her expression.

"That's not very nice, Adas."

 

[Aran Finn]

Na'Varro wasn't supposed to be there. He was supposed to be out saving the galaxy from the terrors of the Unknown Regions, killing terentateks and all types of Gucci monsters from the depths of hell. However, he had won another medal. Military service was all about the medals, baby, and Varanin had just awarded him the biggest and shiniest one. So a now slightly unhinged Arbiter of the Fringe had made a very tactical, sneaky entrance.

He loitered around the buffet, completely unrecognised by anyone. This allowed him to scope the room for familiar faces. [member="Kitt Solo"] was the one he saw first. A wolfish grin appeared on his face, and a worried frown followed in quick succession. I think I was supposed to text her back. Na'Varro shrugged. Whoops ... He recognised a few others. [member="Mikhail Shorn"], [member="Spencer Jacobs"], old mate [member="Ashin Varanin"]. Speaking of which ...

Alen found a quiet corner and chucked her a text while eating beaucoups spring rolls.

- Ty for the gong. Right shirt pocket is getting too heavy, lol. -

Now for a beer.

 

[Flint Michigan]

"Sweet is probably the best way to describe it." Flint said in reply, and the backroom manager put up a laugh, not realizing his former pun. Seems like he wasn't a bantha's behind once you got him talking about something he liked. Like say, patriotism. Or perhaps just celebrities. It was hard to say but where ever it came from it was better to hear him laughing than cursing.

"Hey, do you think that-"

"I can get you in the party?" The manager asked. "Don't look so surprised. You're not the first delivery guy to ask to get into something. And you won't be the last." He said, before thinking for a minute. "Honestly, I don't let many guys in. Especially with so many big-wigs around this time. But you're not half bad. Tell me why you want to be in the party." The manager asked, and Flint smiled.

"Pretty sure a girl I know is over there somewhere. She's a friend of . . . Anders I think his name was."

"A girl? No meeting famous people or anything?"

"Well, I might get a free drink here or there if I can get in." Flint said with a grin. The manager laughed, sighed, and then waved a hand.

"Go then. But if you cause any trouble I'll be happy to tell security exactly what you look like." The manager said and Flint smiled at him before shaking his hand and heading over to the party. He'd get a drink from the first waitress that came to him before pulling out his commlink and sending [member="Kitt Solo"] a message.

Think I got into that party you went to, the one with your gay friend. Care for a dance?


The night was just starting and Flint not only gotten paid but also snuck into a party that served free drinks worth more than the fuel in his ship's tank. If he was right and Kitt was around it'd be a time to remember. Or, as Kitt usually preferred, perhaps a time he wouldn't remember.

 

[Lucien Cordel]

Lucien smiled politely and laughed at the jokes . Between polite applause he was sipping red wine. The only award that really stirred any interest from Lucien was the life time acheivment award. 'High council for life' he could get used to that , prehaps that meant he could bypass those pesky elections. The speeches done Lucien swiftly became bored of his present company . His son was making a rare appearance but the others at Lucien's table were less interesting. He nodded politely and gave his excuses. As he stood up a wave of nausea . Why had he been made a high councillor for life when he was already a high councillor ... Unless. He needed to speak to [member="Anders Sivas"] , the first die may have been cast. Lucien smiled and pushed up off the table "What was in that bread ?" He chucked before walking off.

He stood by a wine server taking a glass and glancing around the room. Spotting Andra with lady solo he moved toward her politely chatting to anyone perceptive enough to compliment him on his new title. Finally he passed next to her feigning a trip, his wine sloshed on the floor. No one saw. "I must appolgise " Lucien exclaimed stepping forward hosting a handkerchief around Andra and leaning close to whisper in her ear "we need to talk meet me on the balcony"

Then as swiftly as he was there he had gone again . The cold breeze hit him as he came outside. He slipped a cigar out of his pocket and lit it. Puffing smoke into the skyline. A sip of wine and he was tranquil again. Now there was only the matter of waiting

 

[Kitt Solo]

[member="Flint Michigan"] [member="Alen Na'Varro"] (fart face) [member="Anders Sivas"]

She waved bye to Andra as she wandered toward Vornskr but then got sidelined by Lucien. If even some of the rumors of what Vornskr did to people were true...she shivered. She might have felt a trickle of a familiar presence but it was fricken Alen Na'Varro and if he didn't want to be found or recognized, then even she wouldn't notice he was lurking. If he had texted her instead of Ashin Varanin, he would've gotten:

*read at 11:47 p.m.*

Comm chimed and she saw a message from her boss/captain/forcist/romantically involved with guy?!?!?!?!!!!!

Index finger expertly maneuvered the screen that would rival any tween. K. Cya soon. Let's not stay long. Room has too many bad mamma llamas.

She sent another one as she wandered on the fringe of the dance floor.

LOL autocorrect. Mammajammas.

 

[Serian Loria]

He looked out across the crowd then back at her “Never thought I’d see the day when walking into a den of lions helped weather oncoming tribulations. Lets hope they don’t see us as a buffet...”

Not that he was some meek sheep, but anyone unwary would become potential prey. He could sense the undercurrent of danger, this crowd hid a division that was potentially hazardous. Smiling faces could easily be trying to hide the knives hidden in folded hands and this was to be their salvation. On his own or in a faction he had survived by making intelligent choices, he wasn’t sure this had been their best option, but then he didn’t interact with them till now.

He didn’t know much at all about the factions bordering Moross, the galaxy was so different from what he remembered. He sighed softly “I wonder what will happen now…”

As if to mirror her internal sentiment about unsettling him just as he’d seemed to regain his footing. He didn’t show much of himself to others even her priestess [member="Loxa Visl"] was kept at a distance. In fact, if rumors flitted around about him, it would be said that he had no ties at all. He is quite the enigma, but that seems to work in his favor, something that might serve him well within this new place. He tended to do his best to avoid internal politics and drama, this new faction was rife with it.

He did have one person who was a potential threat, but if it served him to set it aside, he would. If only for the betterment of the faction he was now to serve, even if the idea didn’t sit well with him. He stood up from where he sat, weaving through the crowd with expert practice. He didn’t jostle anyone and seemed to simply flow through it all. Eventually he came to a stop, if only to survey his surroundings trying to find where he could find stronger drink. He found himself paused near one of those who was a stranger, [member="Jared Ovmar"]. However he didn’t give more than a polite nod, his own thoughts and his goal distracting him.



[member="Amorella Mae"]

 

[Ereza]

Inclining a curious brow at [member="Serian Loria"], Inari gave no indication of agreement to the man's assessment of their new situation. Underlying factors here had made the Fringe space the absolute best choice, this she felt confident in, but these things were not for the general populace to know. Mystery and intrigue were great powers all on their own.

Blue eyes watched the man leave in silence before turning to settle upon [member="Soliael Devin Talith"] across the way, his own attentions weaving from face to face. Their gaze connected for a moment, drawing a faint smile to her face, and then he looked away. The recluse, the anti-social Sith librarian now a sitting duck in the middle of one of the largest social gatherings of the Fringe. What was he thinking?

The Reviver sighed.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

"Ah, but Kitt I. . . " [member="Kitt Solo"] walks off and it doesn't make sense until the fog clears enough to see [member="Alen Na'Varro"] and [member="Flint Michigan"]. This isn't going to be the sort of cupcake contest night that ends in giggles and a smile on our faces. ". . bye Kitt."

I have a handful of memories of my childhood and one of them is a game we played in art class. There we were in our seven year old class throwing sketchbooks on the ground in odd patterns and jumping from one to one. There were Acklays, you see. Everywhere a sketchbook wasn't was a pit of death! Hopping and laughing and screaming consumed the game, each time someone leapt in the wrong spot or lost their balance they playacted a horrible death by arthropod. Our instructor came back and watched mystified that her stimcaf break ended up in a cantankerous children's game. I don't remember if we played it again, or even if I fell in (surely I must have, klutz that I am), but now in this hall with my best friend off in another direction and my lover [member="Mikhail Shorn"] talking to [member="Darth Vornskr"] I feel like one of the kids who fell in to the Acklay pit. [member="Lucien Cordel"] storms up and strikes off for the balcony.

At least I'm not the only kid in the Acklay Pit. Can I catch Mikhail's eye? Is it safe to go over and interrupt Kaine Zambrano? 'Mikha.' We're bonded enough in the Force and in our relationship that my symbiotic empathy does give him a back-door into the feelings of my mind. Helps a lot when I'm having a bad day and need a hug. Or on a good day when we feel like a mini party. I take the handkerchief and play at drying off my dress, while walking around and out the doors. Mikha will know where to find me.

The night air streaks a frigid path across my hot cheeks, I pull my arms across my chest and lean my elbows against the landing. Lucien's cigar smoke is drifting the opposite way and I'm glad of it, a stroke of maternal instinct fearing what would pile on to this current level of stress and fatigue. "Good evening, Lord Cordel."

My voice shakes, but I check it. It's easier to have this conversation mentally and I know Lucien will favour the idea that no one else will hear us. 'Jared played his hand. He never forgave me for my choices and he's been looking for any chance at throwing me down. . . turning me into some sort of doppelgänger. Guess we gave it to him. Can't beat the Godfather of Ashin and Spencer's child in popularity with the Imperial Couple. It's deeper then just that.'

I shiver lightly against the cold, but favour being out here where the air is clearer and there aren't a bunch of go-getters talking up the party. 'Mikhail and I are having twins. I'm trying to keep it secret on Mikhail's behalf. He freaked out when I told him and I know he's scared of what would happen if his enemies found out he's got a family. All in I think he's taking it better than I am, some days. I'm terrified. Maybe this emeritus thing comes at the perfect time to find a place to disappear. . . wherever that is. Where can I go that Mikhail's reputation won't follow and damn us and the children? We both know Mikha would fight a one man war to protect our kids and I. . . it does complicate our plans. I'm sorry I won't be as useful in the next few months. . . Lucien. . . what are we going to do? I feel like we're two steps from the executioner's block and I want to scream and run, but they're jackals in there and they'll chase down any modicum of fear with a hungry glee.'

The day after my inauspicious run in with [member="Valik"], Mikhail came back to the Sumatiyara. We stood on the threshold staring at each other. I still couldn't believe what he'd done, it disgusted me. Condemned me. I had tried to save Warren's life before Bucket put me under and dragged me out, then blew the up lab. The chill of Warren's body struck my hands and eyes as I'd poured my healing powers into his corpse and tried to get his heart pumping. I'd never seen death that close or that visceral and looking across the lintel of my doorway at the man who fathered my unborn children and stopped me from taking up Valik's offer of doom, I saw why Mikhail did it. Mikhail was overwhelmed and afraid. Afraid for me, for our kids. Afraid of fatherhood, when his own father was so brutal. Afraid the number of his enemies would all gang up to kill us and on the other side of Ashin's proclamation I feel that fear down my own spine.

Mikhail's brow had furrowed, his lips parted and his hands opened in the space between and the sheer depth of his guilt convinced me that he was apologetic, he was here through thick and thin and that as messed up as he was by the Darkness and his unsavoury habits, Mikhail Shorn loved me. I pulled him into my arms and buried my head in his shoulder, clinging for every fibre of my body, mind and soul. He brushed his lips on my hair, held me in a vice grip and whispered apologies into the air around us.

If this is my weakness, so be it. I will live and die with this man. The glances of his eyes and strength of his embrace are reasons enough to know that no love would strike me as this perilous affection has. As I stare outward I feel the warmth of Mikhail's best friend radiating off Lucien's well tailored suit and I nudge closer to the Duke of Skye and Zadija.

The noose hangs loose around our metaphorical necks, tightening by microns and as my eyes cast upward to scan Lucien's face, my own is a mask of confusion, surprise and hope. 'Don't suppose you'd fancy another game of chess, perhaps somewhere remote and unaffected? We have to get out of here without Mikha going off.'

 

[Allyson Locke]

Spencer was involved in feeling out the group. Mostly out of her own caution making sure that this new group of people didn't hold any ill intention to the open arms of the Fringe. One strand of the force stuck out to her, but she would deal with that in another setting. Her attention was quickly pulled by her second who was now her last living Apprentice. There was a bond there, one that would take a lot to break. She trusted him, but with his dabbling in the dark side she did remain cautious.

Still, his presence brought a smile to her face especially because he knew her ALMOST as well as Ashin, almost. He knew how to draw her attention from her lack of trust. There was another familar feeling in the air and she smiled even wider seeing the small blond tuff of hair that bounced towards her God father. Ibaris, like her mother had a weakness for sweets. It was no surprise that the girl would be lingering near the cake.

It only took her a few moments to get to where Jared was. She peered over at him and Matsu who were sharing a piece. "Alright Ovmar where's mine." Looking towards the old man she grinned and then glanced towards her daughter, who despite being alone Spencer knew better than to assume that. "Ibby I hope he doesn't make a mess or Papa will make you clean it up" Spencer's had her fill of cleaning up barkspawn poop, it was gross and glowed a bright green.

[member="Jared Ovmar"] [member="Ibaris Varanin-Jacobs"]

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

[member="Amorella Mae"]

Soliael stood in the middle of the party for a few moments, boredom quickly overcoming him. He frowned slightly, looking around at all the different faces. The Fringe had always been friendly with them, and its higher ups contained people he both respected, and called friends. Briefly he wondered if this would bring about conflict between them.

Somehow he doubted it.

Logic reigned supreme with both factions leadership, this little showing was proof of that.

Soliael took a half step forward, stopping slightly as he felt a wave of something push over him. A pulse drove into his thoughts and his head suddenly jerked to the side and up, looking a great vast distance through the galaxy. His eyes narrowed, and a slight smile touched his lips. Amusement would pour into the ring on his finger, and an odd sense of acknowledgment.

At least he had something to do now, or he would very soon.

His eyes drifted over towards Amorella again, and with practiced steps he walked over to her. He took a practiced bow. She was after all present as the Reviver, and he simple man, Soliael looked into her mask, half covering her face, then cast a glance to Serian.

“May I have a word? In private.” He shot a nod over towards a small alcove in the hall where no one would see them.

He needed to speak to his aunt.

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Spencer Jacobs"] | [member="Ibaris Varanin-Jacobs"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"]

‘Ah, sis. There you are.’ the Sith Lord, not Sith Lord replied with a wink. He waved her over to the remaining seat left with a plate of cake on it. They were with four now, Ibaris, Xiangu, Jacobs and him. For some reason this made him happy, that they were (at least for the moment) together, no hassle, no drama.

Just a couple of folks eating cake and enjoying themselves, just as it should be in the Fringe Confederation. Like-minded people banding together to protect those that they love and care for. He pondered on this thought for a while, wistful smile on the lips, before he finally looked again at Ibaris and her cake.

From the depths of his pocket he pulled out a little bag, opening it Jared revealed metal balls, shiny in nature.

‘Ib, I hope you have been studying hard on those books we provided ya.’ the Sith Lord said, rather strictly. Which was hard to accomplish, trying to hide the grin that was desperately breaking free. ‘Cause I got an exercise for ya.’

‘When I was younger… there was an extraordinary woman whose mastery of Alchemy was unparalleled. There is this one guy who would probably call me on that one, but he’s messing around right now and not able to speak all that clearly. Anyway. Look into the metal bead, note its material and try to turn it from shiny… to glossy.’

With the wave of a hand Ovmar did it first, changing the structural appearance of the metal bead from a shiny substance to something more glossy, and back again.

She’d probably have her hands full with the cake and the beads.

‘Also, Spens. I am planning on visiting Lipsec in a few days, we have to set things right there, you in?’

Pointed look at Matsu. She better like that cake, Jared had been dying to try out this recipe for ages now.

 

[Flint Michigan]

[member="Kitt Solo"] [member="Alen Na'Varro"](I'm guessing you're watching us. Creeper)

What is a llama? Flint thought to himself before another getting another message. Mammajamma. Guess we can't have that. Flint thought to himself as he headed to the dance floor, spotting his employee/mechanic/wiz- force-user/romantically involved with woman. at the edge it's edge. He'd weave around the dance floor before getting up to her and extending a hand.

"Lady Solo, would you be so kind as to grant me this dance?" He asked while putting the other hand over his heart, and putting as much upper-class and pretentiousness in his voice as he could. Had to sound the part right?

 

[Ereza]

"Of course," came the Reviver's gentle reply. In no way did this seem odd to what followers stood nearby, as the man Soliael portrayed himself now as was a highly respected Archivist of Neth's court. It very well could be a message from Neth himself, for all they knew. Setting her wine glass aside, Inari gathered the lengths of her white and gold robes, stood, and followed the man into the alcove.

Blue eyes glanced up at him as they found privacy, "Something wrong, Sol?"

[member="Soliael Devin Talith"]

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

[member="Amorella Mae"]

“"No, the opposite.” Soliael said as they found themselves hidden away from the sight of everyone else. There was a slight amount of trepidation to his features, as if he was not sure what he was about to say. He had done something similar before, apologized to Amorella for the way he was, but this time it was different. This time he actually realized why it was the way he was, and something had changed.

Something big.

“Recently I've...I've met someone.” It sound positively pedestrian putting it that way, but it was true. “She has...well...”

Sol looked down at his aunt, smiling slightly. “She has made me realize things about myself. About who I am, what I am. It's caused me to change Amorella. It has caused a shift in me, for the better I think.” Wordlessly he twisted the ring around his finger. “I've never been open with you, I’ve never talked to you of my troubles or worries, I've never thought to.”

A crease appeared on his face as if he gave thought to his next few words.

“Despite that Amorella, I have always cared about you. I have always loved you, To me, you are as a sister.” That was something he had never said to her, but should have.

 

[Lucien Cordel]

Lucien turned with a subtle smile "Lady Sivas what a pleasant suprise " he lent back against the rail, smoke billowing behind him . Andra was panicking "so you think this award signals our doom then , the time to worry is not yet upon us if Jared is behind this and I think he is, he has shown his hand , mine is still clutched to my chest ... Wait it out and we shall see who is in danger then "

Lucien was left some what blindsided by Andra's next announcment "Twins ... How interesting " he snubbed out his cigar casually tossing 100 credits of smouldering tobacco off the balcony. " I find it somewhat amusing to visualise Mikhail as a family man , I think a leave of absence will do you good I have a compound deep in the heart of Skye's mountains no one will find you there but you can still run the military and attend high council meetings via hologram, I will not allow you to go before the executioner , once the children are born you can find somewhere.

[member="Anders Sivas"] nudged closer looking up at him she wanted him to leave , he couldn't go yet lucien frowned "I can't go , not yet but I can get you out ..." Lucien's eyes darted about a server was passing by the windows "Take three steps then faint I will handle the rest " he said pushing off the rail to stand. He was staunch and unfaised if war was coming for him it would not find him in soiled pants.

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

At first Matsu had always assumed she didn’t like children. The sound of babies crying always had her one step from flying in to rage, visions of temper tantrums and dirty diapers sending a shiver down her spine. But it had taken a few occasions around them to realize she didn’t mind kids…as long as they weren’t hers. She wanted to be able to give it back.

When [member="Jared Ovmar"]'s goddaughter came to sit with them Matsu had her elbow up on the table, taking another bite of cake – her evaluation yet to be given on the aforementioned with the advent of Ibaris’ arrival. “Hi – I’m Matsu,” she offered, nixing the child-tone she’d heard others use in the presence of children. Honestly Matsu found it insulting – they were just little people and frankly the girl waiting ‘patiently’ for cake was probably only a little over a foot shorter than Matsu so the lines were all a bit blurry here. The girl’s request for cake was polite as could be but Matsu thought she saw an intentness in her eyes that had the Sith Lady stifling a laugh.

She looked up when she heard [member="Spencer Jacobs"]' bid for cake, giving the blonde woman a smile as well. “Hello Spencer – I love your dress.” She was considering also commenting on the hairflip she’d witnessed when Jacobs had appeared from near the kitchens but decided against it. Matsu wasn’t too familiar with her which seemed a shame considering how close her own Master and Jacobs were, but she respected her through reputation. She scooted her chair slightly so they’d all have room and then settled in, listening to their planning before remembering she’d been asked for an assessment, holding up her hands in defense when she received an extremely pointed look: “It’s good, it’s good!”

​

[member="Ibaris Varanin-Jacobs"]