The Emperor's Ball

[Tamara Wren]

"I suppose it's the same with our armor, so I understand," Tamara answered. A sign of respect. Meaning behind it.

A sign of many other things as well, but one could be sure that a Mandalorian didn't wear their armor if they did not respect that the people around them could be a threat. But it was more than that. It was something at the very core of their culture, their way of life. Something [member="Ronan Vizsla"] had rather strong opinions on, as a matter of fact.

"Yeah it kind of stands out," she smiled. Mandalorian armor wasn't usually known for being subtle.

Her own grip was firm, hand clasping just past a typical handshake, toward the wrist. Remedying it when it was clear that was a mistake. Looking a little sheepish.

"Lieutenant Fancelo," she repeated, choosing the title he offered as a sign of respect.

"Oh!" The question took her slightly by surprise, and she glanced around for a second, realizing she'd lost track of who was around them. Fortunately as it turned out, they were mostly alone. Within view and ear shot of others wandering the garden but specifically neither her father nor [member="Darth Carnifex"] anywhere in view.

"Mostly trying to avoid people," Tam admitted.

Jerking her head over her shoulder slightly. "A couple people in there I just.... don't feel like being around right now."

Some of the annoyance from before tried to settle on her shoulders, and she rolled them slightly, as if she could shake it off. "Besides, it's nice out here. I always liked behind outside more than inside, so this seemed like a good option." She'd spent the last six months mostly ship board, so now more than ever she needed it.

"What about you?"

[member="Anden Fancelo"]

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Umai"]

Head tilted a bit.

Studying her expression, the cast-down look and wondering just how much of it was real. But more importantly how much of it was act. Did it matter? No, he could honestly say, no, it did not. She was perfectly suitable for Shadowman's plans and enjoyable to boot. That was enough for Julian, no? Why make it any more complicated than that in the moment.

"Naw, cyattie, no one be waitin' for a man an' 'is shadow."

The shadow took that moment to shudder as it suddenly sensed something. It shivered and then slowly disentangled itself from his heels. Then it was gone. Julian didn't put much attention to it.

Focusing entirely on Umai. Leaning in. "Secret given, secret waitin'" Maybe later he'd ask about her lovers, her waiters. But right now Julian felt something at the edge of their conversation. Opportunity. To discover something he had been looking for for quite some time now. It was a stark contrast to the nonchalant man. It pulled up a lid of the hunger inside.

In the meantime the Shadow had skidded shadow to shadow, until it came upon his target. [member="Tamara Wren"]. Currently in conversation with [member="Anden Fancelo"]. Shadowman studied them for a while.

Obscured by the shadows it yawned internally.

Mortals had the most boring conversations.

Slowly it approached, creeping up. Then- it would touch Tamara's heel. There was a surge of connection between them. Immediate. Sudden. It saw her and she... saw it for a brief moment. Then feel the sudden presence of a card in her hand. But by the time that filtered through? Shadowman was already gone, slinking off into the forestry of the plant-life.

Back to his possession.

 

[Muad Dib]

Location: Ballroom
Interacting with: [member="Adrian Vandiir"] , [member="Shoma Ike"] , [member="Vereshin"] , [member="Tez Bola"] , [member="The Major"]
Wearing: Suit


Muad grinned at the young Sith Sorcerer. The idea of working on something mutual in the force with another adept in the sorcerous arts was quite intriguing. It had been some time since he worked beside someone rather then with them following his lead. Perhaps it was time for a change? Perhaps. Then again the Mad Man wasn't exactly a joiner as Adrian's last words reminded him.

"I don't ask permission for anything. A character flaw. I don't bend the knee to well either. That might be why I'm not a member of the Sith Empire nor the First Order. Having to crane my neck back to look at your emperor, it would just send me to the chiropractor. Or make me bring a chair I could stand on so we could see eye to eye."

He gave the Sith a grin, his words could be taken as joking, yet with Muad you never knew. Hell, Muad rarely knew if he was being serious half the time (or his writer). The Ren of the First Order was along the same thing. The man didn't like giving oaths to anyone. Which is why he had always operated in Confederacy space, but was never part of it.

His glowing eyes turned as another joined their conversation, a smirk crossing his face at the name of Abyss. The master was quite upset at the destruction of his space station and the half moon it was nestled in. Because of it they had a few encounters afterwards, yet their 'real' meeting after the fact never came to fruition. He nodded to the new Sith.

"Vereshin. And as with a great many things, practice makes perfect. Technique and careful methodical administration can make up for aptitude in most areas. Manipulation of aura and life force essence and energy is not easy, nor does it come without a price, as I'm sure you know as a practitioner."

Taking another drink he was more then fine to allow Vereshin to converse with the other Sith and the Prince. But he felt the presence of Shoma retreating despite having a question directed towards him. Turning his body he watched as the young royal backed into two women. Sighing to himself he wondered if the Prince was distracted and overwhelmed somewhat by the dark energies of those attending the ball or if he had received training as a warrior to be ever mindful of every potential battle field. It would seem he had much to learn of the Prince just as the youth had much to learn of the Mad Master.

 

[Valgærd]

No one is waiting

Well… wasn’t that a development. On the one hand, I was still blushing. This was as much a dance of wit as it was of form and I felt as if I was losing my touch. My mind drifted back to [member="William the Bloody"]… to what he’d taken. Had that… changed me? Turned me into this? There were some sects of witchcraft where the girls weren’t permitted to lose their virtue, was this why?

I was pulled from my thoughts by Julian leaning in close, nudging me to hold up my end of the bargain. There seemed to be a hunger to him, to his tone. Not the lustful hunger of men, but a desire for knowledge. The secrets of the Dathomiri witches were jealously guarded, it was little surprise to find someone with an appetite for them.

My hand moved to my hip, where mother’s tome usually sat clipped to my belt. However, it was not there. I knew it wasn’t, of course. It had been a conscious decision on my part not to have it anywhere near the Sith gathering. Still, my fingers brushed my bare hip where it usually was.

“I wasn’t raised among the witches” I confessed, before turning my eyes up to meet his, “I haven’t a familiar…

… yet”

The pause was deliberate. He wanted to be a tease? That’s fine, so could I.

“My mother left me a tome; concentrated Dathomiri spells and magic, more or less on tap.”

That was a dangerous secret indeed.

[member="Julian Imani"]​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Snip~

The Emperor frowned and turned around, only to discover that there was no one behind him save a few strands of twirling hair. He reached back to touch his ponytail and found that a portion of it had been snipped off and some of the jewels had clattered to the ground, which was quickly retrieved by the small cadre of attendants who had been so busy watching the Dark Lord's interactions with other people that they had failed to notice anyone sneaking up behind him. More annoyed than anything, the Emperor quickly dispatched his attendants into the nearby crowd to track down any ne'er-do-wells armed with a pair of scissors and a scrap of his hair.

He was busy at work rebraiding the snipped end when his son approached him, obviously elated from his quick tryst with the Mand'alor before they were so rudely interrupted by the Queen of Commenor. The Emperor's arms fell back to his side as he finished, "I am pleased that you have found enjoyment in courting the young Mand'alor, my son. You've left quite an impression on her, I hope that Lady Arenais doesn't do anything to dissuade her from this attraction. That woman continues to vex me."

But then the music changed, and a lingering look drew the Emperor's attention towards the dance floor. And there they were, his two most favorite wives preparing to dance with one another and casting longing and wanting gazes his direction, an obvious invitation to join them.

"Ensure that you reunite with Yasha once her business with Kay has ended, Alvarex. Find a deserted bedchamber if need be, young love is willing and hungry."

And with that charming bit of fatherly advice, the Emperor patted his son on the shoulder and shook it affectionately before making his way to join his wives. He approached, bowed, and gave a wide smirk at the two of them. "Up to no good, my beloveds?"

[member="Alvarex Zambrano"] | [member="Yasha Mantis"] | [member="Lady Kay"] | [member="Kaine Australis"] | [member="Adara Raxis"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Vilaz Munin"] | [member="Briika Munin"] | [member="Morus Jerrill"]​

 

[Darth Ferus]

"Kaalia.." Krest's almost playful expression was immediately replaced with one of concern the moment [member="Kaalia Pavanos"] unleashed the Sith within her. It was a puzzling expression given their history, yet his gaze traveled between both his former apprentice and [member="Ishana Pavanos"] . The Zabrak's lax posture stiffened as he bowed his head to the pair of wives apologetically. "It was not my intention to intrude on your night. I simply wished to discuss something with you, Kaalia. But, I suppose our bridge is still in need of repair." He reached down again to the table, as nonthreatening as possible, to set down a simple communicator. "Break it, burn it, discard it, or keep it. It does not matter to me. But should you ever feel up to speaking with me again, simply use this."

The King straightened his back once more, again bowing his head to each of them. He peered to his former apprentice for a moment longer, a sudden curiosity reaching him. "I don't remember telling you my name. I assume you did actually meet her then. If anything that is the best proof I have I am not your enemy, and can sympathize with your situation. Regardless, I wish you both well, and hope that I haven't completely ruined your night." Her, of course, being Krest's "late" wife. He had heard rumors among his own circle about their meeting, though not what they could of talked about.

Hopefully something to ease the tension should Kaalia and him meet again.

Krest then turned to leave. Parties weren't really his thing after all, and he had business to attend to.

 

[Anden Fancelo]

Anden Fancelo​

---

​

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Gardens, Blakeslee Falls Estate, Galidraan​

Objective: Socialize.​

Interacting With: [member="Tamara Wren"]​

​

As the shaking of hands commenced, Fancelo was expecting her hand to catch his. But it went for his wrist, a brow of his clicking upwards for a moment as he adjusted himself to wrap his hand around her wrist, giving the shake. Letting go, he nodded in acknowledgement to her answer.

"Fair enough, I'm going to be meeting with the people I was just fighting about a month or so ago. It's odd." He said, glancing over to the building, over the large sculpture of greenery beside him. He then shrugged. "So I can understand."

He had a slight chill come over him before shuffling about slightly in his coat. But it was no matter, just a cold wind perhaps. He didn't let it stop him from hearing her out, nodding in approval to her mentioning the outside and all. Once her question was made. With a slight roll of his shoulders, he gestured to the bushes, the many lovely things about the garden. The greenery. "It's not everyday you get to see things like this. Or be apart of what's happening today. Makes you feel like you're in a tale."

He then chuckled a bit, shaking his head. "But nah, I wanted to take a stroll. Kill some time. Wait for someone that I know to come by." He shrugged.

 

[Morus Jerrill]

First rule of assassinating an emperor's hair: put all the incriminating crap in your pockets ASAP. I did so. The little scissors disappeared; so did the length of braided Imperial ponytail. Epicanthix blessed oils started oozing through the side seam of my pants, but I'd worn dark pants for just this possibility.

Foresight.

Tradecraft is the art of doing crap all and looking natural doing it. Over the course of, oh, five minutes, I ambled over to the hors d'oeuvres and replenished my plate of deviled nuna eggs. My hands were shaking; couldn't do much about that. Well, I could, but alcohol was off limits tonight. I drowned my nerves in paprika and tasty egg gunk. Then I started doing crap all in the general direction of the exit.

 

[Preliat Mantis]

The aggressive tone did not go unnoticed. For a moment, Preliat's expression changed. He stared not at Koda, but down at him. He was, for a moment, the man who killed Jasper Ordo. He was one of the Cuir Rekr, one of the chosen. He was chosen as the epitome of a singular instance of the Mandalorians.

He was Death, personified.

Preliat stood tall, his body- armor in it's own right, turned it's mass to face Koda. He looked down at him, sneering only for a moment. But it was long enough.

"You lack vision. You lack faith. You lack substance, you lack anything that doesn't give your brain only a slight release of dopamine. You're chasing a pipe dream, some notion that you want to be the best Bounty Hunter in the galaxy, and maybe you are- but you know what you aren't, Koda? Honest with yourself."

Koda had done the impossible, the near impossible, at least- made Preliat Mantis somehow more angry.

"I do not simply intend on murdering the thing that became what I knew to be Yasha Mantis, I intend to replace it, to build something, but first, as a soldier- as a warrior, you must first learn to make calculated moves. And I am building strength, so that our people do not suffer yet another calamity, yet another indignity. I do not intend to leave them, starving, beaten. Slaves of the Sith, manipulated by a seven foot pale puppet master, bending to their beck and call. I intend on being what our forefathers, what Ra Vizsla stood for, what he died for- what I killed Jasper Ordo for. What Mia Monroe was killed for."

Preliat stared down Koda, speaking from the heart for the first time in a long time.

"Do not be as so coy to think you are the only one to suffer tragedy, suffer loss- and you are not going to become any better a man by keeping whatever is plaguing you, locked away."

He gave him a knowing stare.

"I need your help, Koda."





[member="Koda Fett"]

 

[Koda Fett]

Fett had that effect on people. He was aggravating, snide, egotistical, and dishonest​. There should be no surprise that Mantis was infuriated by the Bounty Hunter's aggression in response to an accusation, or so he deemed it. His hands balled into fists by his side, his jaw clenched together, his brown furrowed further just as the scowl had grown. It was for the briefest of moments he wanted to kill Preliat Mantis, but that irrational thought vacated him soon enough.

"My past is my own." He replied, his voice seemingly far more calm than the seething hatred he felt moments ago. "If they're too weak to see it, then it's what they deserve." Fett continued, but that is all he had continued with. He had enough of Preliat's speeches, berating and inspiring. He hadn't a sliver of care for the Mandalorians, their struggles and more. It was for that reason he turned his back on Preliat, just as he had turned his back on so much more, his booted feet tapped against the marble whilst he walked away.

[member="Preliat Mantis"]

 

[Preliat Mantis]

"Get back here you melodramatic little osik, before I arrange a meeting between my foot and your ass."

That same powerful hand clamped down on Koda's shoulder, the same one that suplex'd a Jedi- while he himself was wearing armor, brought down on Koda's shoulder. Koda could a glimpse of just how strong Preliat was, just by a mere touch.

"You're a man scarred by his past, running from the reality. You can't run forever, Koda. Besides-"

Preliat cracked a grin.

"You could always have two jobs. No one said that all you ever had to be was a Bounty Hunter."

[member="Koda Fett"]

 

[Koda Fett]

The Mandalorian, Bounty Hunter, Exile, Killer, had nothing more to say, to do. He was done with the conversation, the discussion, the argument, or the lecture. Preliat had said his peace, or so Fett believed. He hadn't an interest in rejoining the Mandalorians in an effort to dethrone Mantis' spawn, and Fett had been more than vocal on the matter. His back was turned both literally and to further emphasise the point. There was nothing Preliat could do, could say in order to bring Fett 'home'. There always needed to be something else, a drive, a destination. He was content with being the Bounty Hunter, and suppose that is all that truly mattered. He wasn't so easily influenced through aggressive retaliation.

"We're done here, Mantis." Fett replied, his head half-assedly turned over his shoulder, the weight of a meaty hand pressed on it. There was no denying the Wolf's strength. Yet, Koda had shrugged it off, if not pried it from his shoulder. He was, well and truly, done.

[member="Preliat Mantis"]

 

[Preliat Mantis]

Preliat smacked the back of Koda's helmet, as hard as he could. After all, it was armor- what was it going to really do to Preliat's mighty, catcher's mitt-sized hands, anyway? Calloused as they were, they might as well have been iron themselves.

"What did I tell you about being melodramatic?"

He stared at Koda, marching up to meet him. It only took about three steps, three strides.

"You might be done, you little disrespectful, self-absorbed, bratty, pouting man- but your people aren't. Maybe I can't convince you, but maybe I can tell you what's going to happen. You're going to be forgotten, you're going to be cast aside in history. This endless pursuit to what- kidnap people? Assassinate some bumbling criminal? You're nothing but a Hutt lackey, you ill-guided cowardly fool. I am giving you an opportunity that is your birthright- glory and honor. Something you-" He prodded the Bounty Hunter in the armored chest, like a stern father would.

"Have been sorely missing for quite some time."

[member="Koda Fett"]

 

[Heca Foliou]

She originally opted to not make any conversation or interaction with anyone at all. That was the plan she decided best for her in order to save herself from any unwanted predicaments that would just want to incline in loosing some chains. All Heca had to do was act drab and plain, so she would be left alone in her own misery of solitude that she enjoyed. Some of the attendees even tried to capture her attention by walking towards her, only to be met with face that didn't welcome them and told them to return where they came from.

It was all going well until...

“I beg your pardon, but could you please point me in the closest direction of drinks? These aren’t really my thing…”​

​

The Foliou turned around immediately and almost violently, to face the feminine voice that disturbed her. She was about to answer back in an impudent fashion that would cause tension and perhaps offend the other woman's emotions.

But then she saw those eyes that were unlike any she had encountered. The next thing that caught her eyes were black scars and other lesions that imprinted upon her face. By looking at the Imogen's face, it was beautiful once that was now lost in vain. But those disfigurements were ones that Heca invited rather than rejecting as she was about to. She was interested and enamored by the girl that approached her. She was different and unique unlike the others, and not just because of her scars; but rather the stories and mysteries that called Heca from those blemishes.

Pain, sorrow, and death was something beautiful to Heca.

And one doesn't simply walk in and have no shame of their imperfections such as this.

"What has happened to a creature as yourself," the young Maenan asked in a cryptic, unusual tone of voice as a hand raised up to gently touch Imogen's own face. Heca wasn't in love to say from her words and actions. She had no interest in romance at this time of her life. She was simply fascinated as those milky, colorless eyes and scorched tissues truly captured her attention.

[member="Imogen Daniels"]​

 

[Adara Raxis]

Momentarily, the shift in the air around Adara changed. Baba was angry, but the dancing was going so well! Did little Adara do something wrong?

“Baba?” Was it time to run behind Ba’vodu [member="Abel Australis"] or [member="Jor Kvall"] now? While Adara didn’t understand the significance of [member="Alvarex Zambrano"] bringing her mother [member="Yasha Mantis"] in for a kiss, the child did understand the angry visage of a parent on the potential war path. What could Adara do to help?

Maybe if she made her Baba smile again, the ouchies would go away.

“And she told you to never ever do it again.” Adara said, patting [member="Kaine Australis"]’ hand.

“I remember! She told that story the last time Ba’vodu came over and got testy… Daddy? What’s testy mean?” The child smiled up at her father, dancing around until the music changed and she could forego the attempt at ‘waltzing’ for hopping up and down and twisting to and fro, so her dress fluttered around her.

Kaine picked her up and spun her, which destroyed every second of concern the girl had. Adara’s giggle peppered through the ballroom, one of abject delight.

“You’re good at spinning. Do it again, Baba! Again! But not after ‘cause I’ll be too queasy to snack on the cupcakes Aiya said Mama Fio said were here.” Adara was being sensible! Her Baba must have been so proud.

The music shifted, in the distance Yasha and [member="Lady Kay"] returned from their walk and Adara held up her arms to be carried. “My shoes are pinching me.”

 

[Dae]

A curious statement. The Prince seemed to feel his father wouldn’t notice his disappearance. An odd thing, she figured Kaine Zambrano valued his heirs more than life itself. They were his legacy, but it seems that he wasn’t the type to dote. She noticed a brief exchange with Kaine and his other son she assumed. She paid them attention as she also continued to lightly caress Vaulkhar’s arm.

She noticed from the corner of her eye, the Mand’alor had re-entered the room with Lady Kay. It wasn’t a surprise that Dae would know the woman, everyone knew who she was. A look of sadness washed over the Atrisian woman’s face. Looking over to [member="Vaulkhar"], she nodded. “It’s fine, I can talk to them whenever I want. I’d rather meet someone new.” Her hand lightly patted his arm as she sighed softly.

“There’s so many interesting people, I think I’ve found the most interesting, but I am surprised to see the former Queen of Commenor.” Shaking her head, she leaned closer to her partner for the evening and continued to smile sweetly. “Enough about the comings and goings of your father and his entourage. I’d rather learn more about you. Where did you grow up?” Wanting to move closer to where [member="Kaine Australis"] was dancing with the small girl, Dae began to walk pulling gently the man behind her. “Let’s dance.”

 

[Koda Fett]

Fett felt that smack, it encompassed the rear of his helmeted head and forced him to dip his head forwards faster than he was ever to prefer. It made some mixture between a metallic thud and a meaty slap, and those around the two had bore witness to their argument alone to then witness something that may make things violent. Their expressions were as clear as day, and it often read 'I need to get out of here', in which they may have at any other function. Although, the Bounty Hunter had known the rules that accompanied the Emperor's Ball, and he wasn't entirely willing to turn his back on them the same way he had 'his people', or so Preliat called them.

The stance he assumed, after Preliat took the step in front of him, was almost combative; one foot in front of the other, nearly side-on. "Are you finished?" Fett questioned, fed up himself.

[member="Preliat Mantis"]

 

[Sian Jerikao]

Sian could remember the last ball he had been at, so long ago. Far worse than this, Underworld rabble making their way along with shows of force and authority and he had been there for far more unpleasant reasons than why the fledgling Sith had come to this grand gathering of the Empire.

Reputation was everything, he needed to gain allies and bodies he could trust to some degree while he made his way through the hierarchy of the Sith. If he made it that far, of course, but the Anzati was supremely sure of himself in his eventuality of making it out of the Acolytes.

Wearing just a basic suit, the Sith’s eyes of deep blue scanned over the many crowds of people to find those who seemed like what he wanted, Sith Knights and Lords, Majors and Generals of the Legion, Admirals and the like in the Armada. Or just some soul of the Empire he could trust for his upcoming career, though he remained very discreet as he walked, hands clasped behind his back.

Testing himself all the same, so many good meals, but he fought off the urge to feast amazingly well.

 

[Ishana Pavanos]

Galidraan

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Blakeslee Falls Estate
Outdoor Dining Area
[member="Kaalia Pavanos"] | [member="Krest"]

Ishana saw the change in expression on her wife's face quietly she watched a moment as her wife then apologized. The Balmorran felt entirely useless and worst part of the problem here. How many times had Kaalia reassured her? She wasn't a liability, that Kaalia would do her best to protect them and their family. It still didn't take the sting away that as a non-force user the Balmorran was in no way shape or form able to come to her wife's aid in this matter. She swallowed hard a moment and turned to watch the interaction when Kaalia essentially threatened to kill this man, again. Her brows raised a moment with some form of comedic quip running through her mind. Then Ishana stared at her cider wishing she had ordered something a little harder like bourbon, whiskey or anything that wasn't just the adult variant of a child's drink.

Now if it was the one thing Ishana was good at? Figuring out perceptions and words, there was a perk to having worked in a cantina in between TIE Fighter gigs. Ishana watched this Zabrak with an interest. She studied his expression the way he seemed apologetic, a planned tactic? Perhaps. Probably, "oh good allow me." Ishana remarked as she rose from her seat a moment and took this little device and then searched her dress. Listen, a good smuggler/scoundrel/thief never leaves home without a few essentials... What? No, Ishana had no plans whatsoever to rob this pretty palace. Nope. None. She came up with set of small wrenches and went about disassembling the device and then put each part into her cider.

"For the record, we can stop by one of those Old Jho's Places and grab space waffles on the way home."

She cleared her throat, "why don't we uh, why don't we head inside sounds like the place is starting to get lively."

 

[Ria Misrani]

Alvarex brushed his sleeves off while his father spoke and was informing his parent of the feeling he had developed for Yasha. His brother, Sarlow made his way over to him just as [member="Darth Carnifex"] offered up his advice. The Prince must have gone through at least eleven shades of red, and froze in place just as the older man excused himself to dance with the two Empresses. Sarlow with lips pursed placed a firm hand on his little brother's shoulder, "so that's not what you want to do." The older brother's mustache was neatly trimmed for the event as he then shifted his hand beneath Alvarex's chin and lifted him up and began to dust his uniform off. "She's over there with her camp so why don't you make your way over there and introduce yourself all polite and such. Make good, be your charming self and remember your manners, kid."

The younger brother nodded absent-mindedly and then cleared his throat. He felt as if the collar on his uniform was starting to tighten, he ran a finger through to keep it loose. "Yes, yes of course, right." He shook his head a moment and felt his brother hand on his upper back, an atta boy kind of gesture. "I'll be fine... I think, excuse me." Alvarex grabbed a flute of champagne from one of the wandering trays and chugged it all in one go and set it back on a different tray as he moved around the dance floor. He caught Yasha's eyes and gave her a smile, she did not need to know his father's schemes. Although he was sure he didn't need to hear them either, as he approached he saw the Warmaster [member="Kaine Australis"] there with [member="Adara Raxis"] and of course her majesty [member="Lady Kay"].

"Your majesty," he greeted the Queen first with a nod of respect, "a pleasure, and you must be the Warmaster."

The young man gave another nod of respect this time in Australis's direction. "Alvarex Zambrano." He introduced himself personally, "it is always nice to see you again, Mand'alor Mantis." Although the grin that followed was in the place of 'the Mighty Adorable.' The Epicanthix Prince thought to save that for later, Alvarex then knelt down on one knee, "and who am I missing?" He feigned his forgetfulness, a finger to his chin, "yes, quite right, the lovely and darling Adara." It was such a shame she was the only child here, he could think of at least a dozen or so siblings that would've loved to have been here this evening. Then again, maybe it's not such a good thing to have so many Zambrano siblings in once place.

[member="Yasha Mantis"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"]