The Old Man responded with an arched brow. Kazaar was really worked up tonight for some reason. Jason couldn't put his finger on what was really making him so manic, but it gave him pause for thought.Originally Posted by Aurelias Kazaar
He'd always thought Aurelias on the total brink at the best of times, it wouldn't take much to light the man's fuse in any situation. How he and his grand-daughter remained so close was quite beyond him.
Valten smiled brightly as he came upon the party’s host. “Mr. Russard! Very well, very well, indeed. And please, just Karl, no need for formalities. As a guest in your home, I should be the one paying respect.”
The Grand Inquisitor vigorously shook Jason’s hand. Energy just seemed to radiate off of Karl and replenish some of Russard’s energy. Spying Estelle in deep in conversation with Inquisitor Lykaios, Valten nodded in their direction.
“I see that your daughter has made a splendid recovery. I’m happy to announce that the pirates responsible have been dealt with. Their leaders won’t see daylight for quite some time for their crimes. It’s so unfortunate that there are those who prey on others when the galaxy offers so much.”
The appearance of Empress Tarkin temporarily halted the conversation as Valten bowed deeply.
“Your Highness, the pleasure is mine. My sincerest apologies that I was unable to attend your wedding, I’m ashamed that I missed that splendid occasion. Congratulations to you and your husband.”
“Honestly….” Sarah huffed as Rekoj went over to schmuse with Corta. What the hell did he have to investigate with the Judge? Investigate, sure, whatever. She’d never get these Coruscanti Inquisitors, much better out on Eriadau.
Her eyes wandered over to Reeouurra disappearing off into the crowd and her mind drifted back to previous thoughts. Everyone here had their own agenda; all of the Inquisitors, Rekoj included, especially. He was a clever weasel and played people excellently, a very interesting guy.
Glancing around she found herself without a dancing partner as the music started up again. Damn was she bored. Glancing back to Reeouurra, a thought crossed her mind. To hell with Rekoj, she’d do some of her own investigation to sate her wandering mind.
“Interesting catch with Rekoj. Don’t know if he quite fits you, Ms. Reeouurra. To each our own. Business is good I hope?”
Despite being a head of a crime syndicate, the cizerack did have many legal endeavours. In fact is wasn’t too long ago that the Devaronian Inquisitor, Sei’Trem, had helped repel a piracy attempt on one of her luxury cruise liners while working a different job.
Trix sighed in relief that the confrontation was over, but nodded and smiled at the Judge, who seemed preoccupied. With a weak excuse, she left them, and Trix couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.
“Does she do that often?” he asked Adelaide, noting that she seemed a bit put off.
"Does who, do what?"
Adelaide's response was vague and a little insulting to Trix as she had been clearly distracted. Belatedly, Del herself realised her lapse in manners and sought to rectify things. "Oh, the Judge? Dont mind her" she said lightly, "I actually think she likes you. She can be rather cold with new acquaintances, its nothing personal."
This indeed was true. Corta had a streak of elitist in her veins and would turn the sentiment off and on when the situation called for it. It was a convenient and fail-safe mode of manueverability that served her very well at such gatherings as this evening. To quote the Judge, 'One could just ignore the lesser mortals when they were troublesome.'
From somewhere about the hall came a soft chime, like the 'time to be seated' bells one heard at theatres and opera's etc. Apparently, dinner was served and everyone was being nudged tactfully to come to table.
"Good, Im starved" Adelaide said with more enthusiasm than she'd shown all night. For her, it was a more comfortable arrangement to sit and eat than socially floundering in front of Trix like she was. If he asked any awkward questions, she could just change the subject and ask him to pass the mustard, instead.
The company in general moved to take their seats at the tables, the pride of place set of course for Empress Tarkin and her entourage, but yet with a sprinkling of interesting personalities among her company to ensure engaging and entertaining conversation. Roger had thought of everything.
Each place setting had a name card for the guests and yet it was not unexpected that certain persons might take it upon themselves to rearrange them to suit their own will. These individuals did not disappoint.
Rekoj (big surprise) put his name between the beautiful Sanya Tagge and Mili k'Vik, moving Lykios to sit down beside Ms Taataani Meorrrei. Yeart Quenn tried to switch his place with Xavier so that he was beside Emelie, to which Synik promptly switched it back again, adding a threatening glare for good measure. Sasseeri seemed quite content with her place between Caran V'al Counis and Aurelias Kazaar, and Jason imagined he even heard her purring as he passed behind them. Aree Ankarta, on Caran's other side however, kept a decidedly cool eye on Miss Reeouurra.
All in all, it was an interesting collection of souls who lifted their glasses, first to toast the new Empress, followed shortly by a general salute to the future of the Galaxy as well as for the continued prosperity of the evening's Hosts.
Last edited by Jason Russard; Dec 13th, 2009 at 08:03:45 PM.
Time away from the party and its oppressive atmosphere of well-wishing had given Sanya Tagge the chance to regain some of her buoyancy. She smiled coolly as she was ushered to her seat, noting with a quick glance of sharp eyes that precise order within which the guests had been arranged. Cael Bathala, her companion for the evening, was directed almost entirely in the opposite direction to Sanya herself, who found herself rubbing elbows with a man whose face she did not recognise. Naturally, such anonymity could mean only one thing: he was an agent of the Inquisitorious. In spite of the tightening knot in her stomach, Sanya met his eyes with a smile as she joined in the toast that was sweeping throughout the party.
“Long live the Empire.”
Unhappy that her place was so far removed from the handsome Valten, Kajeela took a few moments before realising she was seated at the table of the Empress herself, albeit at the opposite end from her Highness.
She supposed she should be flattered, although, it was probably a result of the judicious thought of the Russard planners - the ICPD representative was not likely to say anything fubar-ish in her esteemed company, even if she was a Cizerack.
Or, it could be she was expected to keep Ms Meorrrei engaged (and thus in line), which was faulted reasoning, really - North, Santiago, Salem and Lykaios would be much more of interest to her and no doubt will occupy much of the elder felinoids attention.
However, with everyone being seated, Tarruuri had a clear view of the other guests and to her delight recognised and old frrjiend..
"Aurrreljiasss" she purred aloud as she, too, raised her glass to join in the toasts.
Down from her, Judge Corta heard her remark and lifted narrowed eyes, curiously locking on to the back of Kazaar's head. He was seated just one place away from Adelaide and her stare hardened.
Kajeela, who's job it was to read people, saw in that one unguarded look a whole world of hurt for her bounty hunter friend.
"What an jinterrressstjing companjy we have!" she declared merrily and drank down the sparkling liquid.
Slightly perturbed that his conversation with the Empress and host was cut short, Valten followed lost himself in the tide of coruscanti elite to the dining hall.
The Grand Inquisitor noted with amusement that even in this hive of so-called well-to-doers the most prestigious were reserved space amongst a pair of tables separate from the rest.
And how quaint that he be seated next to the esteemed Minister of Truth. Valten returned her smile and raised his glass in response to her toast.
"Gloria Imperium." As the guests lowered their drinks in unison, the Grand Inquisitor left a final toast hanging in the air. "Veritas Vincit"
A few confused guests mumbled a reply. Those privileged enough to have attended the best schools on Coruscant recognized the obscure High Galactic translation as "Truth Conquers".
“I see,” he grinned, laughing a bit at Adelaide’s enthusiasm for the prospect of food. Come to think of it, he was hungry too.
“So how long have you been working for the good Judge?” Trix asked, settling himself in the chair. He nodded politely to Russard the Elder, who was sitting across from him.
Exactly how he'd spent the last ten minutes or so, the Moff had no clear recollection of. He been all angry embarassment just then - angry at himself more than anyone else yet trying to pass it off as his utter annoyance with this Valten character. When the chime sounded to call them all to be seated, he found himself standing at the side of the hall, opposite an extremely obese old woman with a several folds of chin and a day's worth of stubble on all of them, who was winking at him in a way he didn't find the least bit attractive. Her saggy, wrinkle-skinned breasts almost popped out of her dress which appeared to be at least a size too small for her. At another point in time he might have found something stimulating enough in this, but right this minute he had enough of a sour taste in his mouth from his conversation with the inquisitor that he simply found it disgusting.
Fortunately for him, he was saved from any social gaffe he was about to make, for the woman's eyes lit up when she heard the chime, and, licking her lips, she uttered a hasty excuse and moved off in the direction of the tables now set. He'd been about to tell her to leave him alone, in words these Imperial Center women would probably never have heard before.
As he slowly walked over to the tables himself, he was hoping for a place next to his favorite Minister, but Sanya was right next to Valten - and he wasn't up for another run-in with that man. Instead, the Kuati's eyes came to linger upon a pretty girly with bi-coloured hair that he hadn't noticed before - she was just then taking a seat at the end of Sanya's table. There was a chair free between her and a cranky-looking brown-haired female - even though it was still in Valten's vicinity, it would be tolerable between those two; he could keep an eye on Sanya, too.
So he tried to edge his way into the gap between the two women, only to find himself told that this wasn't his place according to the sitting arrangements. The guy telling him this was someone he'd seen talking to one of the Russards' before, so he admitted defeat.
He had next to no social standing on this planet, apart from being a Moff of the Empire, and it would not do to irritate his host. It had been complicated enough to get an invitation, and his intention was to stay on the "good" side of things, no matter how difficult or unlike his character that was. He was here for one thing only, and that was to impress Sanya. Even if the presence of inquisitors and a stud at her side made this a bit difficult: he'd have to outdo himself this time if he really wanted her.
With a benevolent smile for the man who'd told him to leave his seat, he walked off, and around the table in search for the place with his name on it - hoping it would not be right next to Valten.
"Not long" Adelaide answered vaguely, gesturing to the server to fill her glass to the brim before he moved on to the next place setting. She had swallowed half of it by the time Aurelias took his seat on the other side of Trix.
The Kazaar's exchanged a loaded stare and then Adelaide turned to focus fully on Trix.
"It's something I never saw myself doing, working for the Judge, but so far Ive managed not to make a complete mess of things. I mostly run errands.." She trailed off into another hearty gulping of wine.
Eventually, Caran had relented. He was certain he had seen enough of what he needed to see and had retrieved his assistant from the company of his darling mother just in time for the call to dinner to be sounded, having excused himself from Aurelias et al. Aree was somewhere between shaken and utterly displeased with him, but after some low-voiced utterings to remind her of where they were and what was expected for her own good and his own projected image, she seemed to to sober up from her disposition and go along with him, a hand hooked just forward of his elbow as they followed to find their seating placards. Image, indeed.
He was a small switch relieved to find that he had been seated with her and not with Cora, though he still tended to appreciate Getar's company in some ways. They were seated together at the other of two tables set for this elite upper crust that he had not chosen to be a part of, rather, that it was chosen for him by way of his life's beginning.
When they found themselves seated in the designated space (with Caran displaying gentlemanly accord and seating his 'guest' before seating himself), the son of Cora and Getar V'al Counis took in his surroundings of people he had been rubbing shoulders with the entire evening thus far. For the most part, he found himself familiar with a reasonable percentage of the table's occupants and ultimately aware of some of the discomfort the seating arrangements might cause Aree. Interesting time for observations, but thoughts that were dashed for the time being as Inquisitor Valten proposed a toast, to which Caran raised his glass.
"Vincit Omnia Veritas." He said in reply, then lowered his glass at the end and tipped a small nod to Valten, seeing the Minister of Truth, Sanya Tagge, seated within his field of vision beside the Inquisitor. Amusing, all things considered (though he didn't quite know what to make of having Sasseeri seated on his right. From the looks of Aree, he found that it might best not to make anything of it at all. Maybe). "For it is not enough to know merely the force of truth but the reach of it, Inquisitor Valten."
The Old Man looked in turn from Kazaar to Trix to Adelaide - picking up immediately on the burgeoning tension between the two ex-spouses and the witless big-screen star stuck in the middle of it, and then looked to the Moff's Wife chatting like a cricket to no one in particular beside him. He managed to stiffle a groan behind hands he ran up and down his face in an attempt to fortify himself. Then, lifting his glass, he absently mumbled "Veritis veri....(whatever it was)" along with the other guests. If he lived through the next hour, he was going to bludgeon Roger Phillips to death when this party was over.
The seat beside him was still empty. Jason prayed the gods to have pity on him and send him someone not-insane to take the empty place beside him.
Last edited by Old Man Russard; Dec 18th, 2009 at 11:22:18 PM.
Getar was aware that people - and even his wife - thought him unobservant, neglectful of anything that they perceived he had no interest in. That, however, was not the case - far from it, rather. He'd simply become selective in the things he observed. And he did not make any show of it; it was far more useful to remain unobtrusive, to observe without seeming to do so. Even his own wife was fooled by it.
He'd noticed something was amiss with Cora once his own moment of weakness had passed. This wasn't a good time for sentimentality. Her eyes, even across the room, were locked on Caran, so this was probably something more about the disagreement they were having. Whatever it was; when it came to matters between the two of them, he'd developed blind eyes and deaf ears, for as long as he had to. They'd had some argument which was making Cora very downcast lately, whereas Caran seemed positively chipper. What had he done to her to reduce her to tears?
He was debating with himself whether he should say something when the chime called them to be seated. Caran at once turned around and walked back to the other side of the room - and Getar followed him, hoping to cut any scene short. He was holding his breath without realising it, unsure what he might overhear as they'd confront each other again, yet Caran simply took his assistant by the hand and pulled her away. The assistant didn't look so well, either.
Cora was left standing by herself, a picture of misery. He was starting to get an uneasy feeling about this one, but kept on hoping it wasn't about the boy's "origins".
"Come, my dear, I'll get us seated."
He gently took her under one elbow and guided her over to the table, where a waiter showed them to their seats. He'd hoped they'd be next to each other, but they found a woman sitting between them. He'd seen her before - she'd entered the hall with the rest of the Inquisitors. This wouldn't do!
He felt his wife react to something, and figured it was the sight of the female inquisitor, and knew he had to get her away from her. Cora wasn't skittish around inquisitors usually, playing her part well, but tonight he knew her nerves couldn't take it. There was only one thing to do...
"Excuse me, madame, would you mind exchanging seats with me? My wife is not feeling so well, I'd like to sit next to her to keep an eye on her."
Last edited by Getar V'al Counis; Jan 4th, 2010 at 07:51:48 AM.
Kajeela
It was a relief to be separated from his date from the evening, though Cael couldn't quite stop himself from staring perhaps a moment too long at the feline woman he was now seated alongside. As a swoop-pilot in Team Tagge, Bathala's team mates had been human. His starfighter squadron was also entirely human, as per Imperial regulation. To find not one, but numerous, non-humans sitting at the same table as the Empress herself. Then again, the seating arrangements must have been approved before the party began, to ensure maximum security...
Hedging a smile, Cael turned to look directly at Kajeela. At the beginning of the evening, Sanya Tagge had reminded Cael that he shouldn't speak unless spoken to, because there was very little anyone at this party would want to hear from a pilot. Perhaps she was right, but a combination of nerves and wine were working against Bathala.
“That's an interesting accent you have there, miss. Very.. exotic. Like something out of the Outer Rim.”
Sharing a smile with his wife as he drew out her chair, Gallus Tagge made certain that the guests at both tables were seated comfortably before he took his own place. As he sat, his hand fell naturally into place over Miranda's. This evening was, perhaps more than anything, for her. It was a celebration of what she had achieved and what everyone expected her to achieve in the future. Seeing such a diverse group of people gathered together, all in the name of toasting to her accomplishments, was inspiring and a testament to the far-reaching appeal she had garnered.
“I wish your grandfather could be here today to see this.”
Leaning toward Miranda, the Baron spoken in a hushed voice and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
“He would be so proud, just as I am.”
"Excuse me, Madame, would you mind exchanging seats with me? My wife is not feeling so well, I'd like to sit next to her to keep an eye on her."
“Wha….” Sarah found herself distracted as she traced the path of Sasseeri and Rekoj. The Inquisitor was slightly miffed that every time she tried to pin someone interesting down they seemed to disappear before she had a chance to so much as open her mouth.
Distracted enough that she momentarily forgot to pay attention to her surroundings and found herself facing an older gentleman with a blank face.
After a short pause the man’s request finally clicked in her head. “…Oh, yes, of course. I’m sorry; I don’t know what came over me.”
Sarah stepped back to offer the seat so he could sit next to his wife. The poor woman was felt like she was in distress. Inquisitor Lymia could feel the emotion rolling off of her through the force. It was a bit disconcerting.
Something about a son? Ah, there, the young man practically wearing a bright smile on his face across from Valten happened to be the focus of the woman’s thoughts. Ah well, not her issue.
Lymia undid the clasp hooking the ornate sword and scabbard to her dress, leaning it against the chair beside her. A moment to straighten out where the shimmering fabric had ruffled….and she promptly found herself face-to-face with the Empress and her husband right across the table.
The Inquisitor almost coughed.
“Highness, it’s an honor.”
Gallus' words resonated deeply inside her, for it was her departed Grandfather and Father convictions and testament to Imperial Order that had molded her into the woman she was today. If only they were alive to see this, indeed, but if they had survived, she would not be sitting here.
And in truth? Miranda would give up the throne to have them back alive today. She turned and gently kissed Gallus upon the cheek, not caring about appearances. "Thank you," she replied softly after the kiss.
“Highness, it’s an honor.”
A soft female voice that was threatening to crack caught Miranda's attention. Gently smiling before the Inquisitor seated across from her, she was rather surprised at how young this one was. She surely had to be one of, if not the youngest, member of the organization.
"Veritas Vincit, Inquisitor. And whom do I have the honor of speaking to?"
Trix was aware of the tension going on between the two people sitting next to him, or more accurately, of the look that Adelaide had shot the man on his left. Trix really didn’t want to know what look the man was shooting his way. And then the look that Russard the Elder gave the three put him even further off kilter. He had no clue really of how to deal with this situation.
So, he would follow Adelaide’s example, and ignore it. Though, not as baldly as she was, he hoped.
“Eh,” he stammered a bit, “Well, errands can be important too, I suppose. Depending on what the errand is, of course.”
It was with relief that he allowed the server to pour some wine into his own glass. He quaffed some – not as much as Adelaide, perhaps, but still quite a bit – and set the drink down.
“Of course, I never saw myself becoming a fighter pilot either,” he said, continuing the conversation. “But I think running errands for the Judge might be at times just as harrowing as piloting a starfighter, in its own way.”
Posting Permissions
Reply With Quote
Bookmarks