Log:New Alderaan: Elder House Soiree

Elder House Soiree

OOC Date: May 11, 2020
Location: Droalder Palace, New Alderaan
Participants: New Alderaan, Ban Iskender, Yari, Tyrius Bodega, Barad, Aure Deserra, Qesteris Uvallian, Ambrosia Greystorm, Aryn Cole

Tonight's festivities have been long planned with a goodly amount of money spent to ensure the ultimate feast and an endless supply of drinks. The palace, a large and foreboding structure that met the traditional size of estates from Alderaan past was filled with life. Nobles, not just of this world, but Delaya, Birren, Drik, Onderon, Coruscant, Naboo (there's a long list) have come to pay their respects to the Elder Council and honor their decision of inducting Aryn Cole as the new Princess of Alderaan. For those unaware of what the Elder Council was, they are more commonly known as the Elder Houses. A society of aristocracy that spans the galaxy. They are a hub of royal secrets, protected by a royal seal; if broken, the Elder Houses could strip the culprit of titles, lands, and every bit of influence they possessed. They took their loyalty seriously thus, the beginning of the royal ceremony was of Aryn taking the oath after the reciting of her Royal Mandate, marking her as the heir of the titles and influence of her Royal Highness, Leia Organa.

The oath concluded when Aryn placed her hand upon the biometric scanner to register officially.

NOW-- THE PARTY STARTS! --

The Great Hall of Droalder palace is aligned with tall windows that have a wonderous view of the bay and mountains beyond. Banners of every house hang from the walls, and small holo-monuments of former leaders and memorials flicker and glimmer with Alderaanian opulence. Large brazier fires grow tall, yet the ambience of music and chatter fills the chamber with great excitement as food is being brought out to the tables, liquor is being poured, and a spot out front is being cleared for the dancing competition!

Finally, he could drink. As much as a Nobles Life was lived by Lord Tryrius Bodega, little did he enjoy ceremony. IT made him uncomfortable, even if he excelled at public speaking and looking like he was enjoying himself. THe part of the evening he looked forward to the most, what his true passion and gift was, had finally started. Taking up a flute of champeign, he knocked it back quickly before grabbing another one. He was dressed fine, cape about his neck in the colors of House Bodega rulers of the Great Market district of Drik. Brown eyes sparkled, complimenting his aged look, a smile crossing his charming lips. "Fine day... indeed, yes."

Such a celebration! The gathered are numerous and as the Senator from Aurea arrives she stands in brilliant colors. The rich red of her top that is cut short and quarter sleeves is bedecked in gold beads and a fringe along the bottom hem. The full skirt itself in paneled red and teals has much the same as the top with a swathe of silk like fabric that rounds her shoulder ot the opposite hip.

Dark hair has been pulled up and pinned into place with a gold headdress that reaches out much like the rays of the sun. She pauses in the doorway a moment and glances to the blue figure that accompanies her. "What do you think?" She says as her eyes sweep over the display. "Quite something."

"It certainly looks greatly like the holos grandfather kept of Alerdaani works." Qesteris is at Aure's side, using a combat staff as a sort of walking stick as he goes, dressed in drab gray armor in contrast to the fireworks detonation that is The Aure.

"Is this one where you will need to hold my arm, or remain clear of me, My Lady?" trying to keep his expression mild while he surveys the room... probably looking for potential assassins or twirly-stached ruffians looking to bind his charge and lay her over a transport train rail.

Dastardly

Ban Iskender is present in finery of white, green, and gold, an elaborate half cape tied over one shoulder with braided gold cord. He wears either armor nor pistol, but the gentleman does carry a decorative sword at his side. The gentleman raised his voice in acclaim with the others when the oaths are taken and the ritual complete, afterwards proceeding to pointedly ignore the noble Santhe representative. A crystal flute of fine brandy is offered to Aryn, once the revel begins in earnest.

Barad waves his hat and cheers! Waaaaaaaaaaaaaay from the back of the crowd of "Not So Really Important People" but perhaps it's audible. Barad also tosses his hat high up in the air, to celebrate the moment of the Oath's confirmation, as is the tradition. Erm. Well, at least, it's the tradition where he comes from. And also at various Naval Academies. So __perhaps__ he's not alone in doing so. But, then again, perhaps he is? Either way, Barad doesn't mind! He's here to support his friend and leader, and add his voice to the congratulations. Dressed up for the "first (?And Only?)" time in his formal dress uniform, Barad wears it proudly ... as he goes to find and retrieve his hat. Part of the uniform, don'tcha know. Can't go back to barracks without a "Cover" --- that's a "No No..." For the moment, though, Barad's big 'ole floopy ears are fluttering, free of the confines of his cap. "Freedom is good," think Barad's ears. Annnnd the rest of him tends to agree!

Tonight?s spread is not just FIT for royalty, it is feeding royalty. And lots of other people!

Sumptuous roasts

Nuna drumsticks smoked to perfection

Chando peppers stuffed with Jerba cheese

Plump fowl, skin crisped and served on a bed of whipped tubers

Salt-crusted fishes, plucked straight from the Droalder Sea this morning and stuffed with herbs tonight

Butter pastries and fluffy cakes

Chilled sweet cream decked with berries

AND SO MUCH MORE!!

An ungainly figure who certainly /looks/ the part of a kitchen drudge is standing quietly back from one of the tables to assist with serving up the goods. In truth, it doesn't look like the girl ought to be on her feet, if the fine dusting of sweat over her pale brow is any indicator, but Yari is Kijimi and Kijimi is built stone strong. Or was, until the First Order blew it to smithereens. She is unfamiliar with much of Alderaan's history, too ignorant to know she's much in common with the older generation assembled here. She is equally ignorant of politics beyond what hierarchy local gangs and black marketeers vied for on her homeworld. But she is here to cook...and cook she did. Her father is nowhere to be seen, by her anyway, likely seeking a sympathetic ear who might be willing to speak about those desireable mountains so wondersouly framed by these monstrous windows.

Yari is NOT too ignorant to understand the great divide between herself and those in attendance. A few fingers pick self consciously at her own garb - a dress that survived Kijimi on her person, the one garment wide enough to accomodate her present condition. She was once proud of it, of how sturdily it was made. How carefully she kept it. But now....Wide eyes watch as the Senators and nobility go parading by after the Princess' Oath. It's all she can do. Watch. Watching hands. Watching lips. Holding tightly to her serving tongs as though prepared to whack the fish a second time, should it leap to life upon the table.

Aryn accepts the flute of brandy, drawing from it deeply and /nearly/ unlady like. Aryn was hardly the only one here tonight to look nice though! She wore a light blue dress that accentuated her athletic frame and contrasted with the pale of her arms and shoulders. Bright blonde hair caught the light well, and the deep red of her lipstick drew further attention to the fact that she was wearing make up!!

"..thank you.." Aryn managed, slightly breathless from the large drinks. It was clear that she needed the beverage as all the pomp and ceremony was something she lacked the constitution for. So thankful for it all to be over with, the music had a visual effect on her expression and a smile slowly formed as she began to relax and find her center. Ceremonies like these were notorious for assassinations afterall!

Aryn lifts her hand to hook it to Lord Ban's arm, drawing herself close to the green Knight. Her offhand, the one holding her drink, motions to the crowd. "Let's see our guests, please. I want to talk to all of them if it will help me put that ceremony behind me!" Aryn finished her flute of brandy and passed it off to a walking server whose tray was offered for just that.

"Look, there's Lord Bodega of Drik, and Senator Aure with her guardian! My she looks stunning. All those colors; she could be a princess!" Aryn feels self conscious about her own garb, glancing down briefly.

At present, Aryn and Ban are near the area being cleared out for dancing! Food is also near them! And.. there's Barad in his uniform! So many familiar faces. Even Yari earns a second glance as Aryn spies her present condition, mean-eying that fish on the table. She sensed it may not go well if the fish found life again!

Hazel eyes glance to her companion once more and the Aure shakes her head, "Come, let us enjoy this together." She steps into Qesteris' side and slides her arm in his, giving him a rueful smirk that dimples a full cheek before she nods her head. "I think we might wish to make the rounds first but the food...how it smells so delightful. How about we bypass quickly and tease ourselves with a taste. Art comes in many forms." Including the edible kind.

She starts them off with the heavy skirt shifting easily with her steps. Yari is given a smile as they near to the display of food, a nod given to the red haired woman. "Do you suggest anything in particular?" She glances down over the assorted plates. Ban and Aryn are given a glance as is Tyrius as a smile grows and her hand lifts to wave at the assorted.

Lord Bodega raises his glass and... yes he waggles his brows before downing the drink whole as Aryn motions towards him. He's already grabbing another one, that buzz not quite there to help him fluidly encounter such company as this. He was still to up tight from standing and watching the dry ceremony from before. He was used to it of course. Brown eyes moves towards Aure, looking her over. He makes a satifying noise before taking a more tame sip from his glass, now moving away from the table of refreshments to be more avalible to be engaged. Of course the Senators colorful bodyguard was noticed, a nod given in greeting.

Ban Iskender inclines his head at Aryn's request to see the guests, stepping alongside the Princess toward the cluster of Senators and their bodyguard, greeting smoothly in turn, "Lord Bodega, Senator Deserra, and master Questeris: well met, once more." His eye is drawn to the cap-recovering Klatooinian, of whom he asks Aryn quietly, "I that the gentleman from the recent errand of mercy?" he doesn't say 'Sullust'. There are ears in the hall who should not hear that. Yari is noted, as is her culinary magnificence, but comment and consumption are delayed.

His arm claimed, Qesteris's brows raise but he gives an easy grin all the same, "As you wish, My Lady." letting her set the pace of their stroll to where the food is, "II like confectionary art. But then I've a sweet tooth." a lopsided grin forming as they walk, staff softly tapping every other step while they approach Yari.

"Preferably anything laden with too much fruit sauce... as in applied with wild abandon with no regard for midlines or sugar-shock?" giving a wink now and then turning dark navy when he surveys the table and a long purple tongue shoots out of his mouth, flicking as if to taste the air before being suddenly sucked back in.

Somewhere under those layers of high-end burlap and tummy fat, the inhabitant of this ark named Yari is definitely getting their PARTY ON!!! A solid thump knocks dangerously upon her bladder. Good thing she just made the nineth waddle to go pee before the speech! Mightn't matter in a few minutes anyhow, but HARK! Customers to cater to.

Yari pressed her lips into a cordial, amenable smile and bobs her chin hello. The blue-skinned one is fixed with a slightly longer stare - mild horror maybe - before she recovers senses and notes the beautiful lady's lips on the move. Uh oh. Something...s-/anything/ in...Anything. Anything! Such an easy request. The tongs go to work, rapping once against an overly clingy chunk of salt crust so she might fillet a strip of meat off and lay it 'artfully' over a bed of ferny greens and a dollop of kajaka puree. It's offered up to Aure then and the tongs point at Qesteris, gesture to the spread in her viscinity. Raised brows voice the unspoken question. Other serving staff are spaced out accordingly, because damn this is a lot of food.

"It seems we have different tastes, go fetch your sugary sweets," she says to Qesteris, releasing his arm as she grasps for the plate presented to her in such a delicate display of finery. A nod is given to Yari as olive hands bring it closer to her. "Lovely, art. Almost a shame to eat it."

She turns about slightly at the greeting by Lord Iskender and she dips down into a shallow curtsey. "My Lord. Your Majesty, a pleasure to see you both again and Senator Bodega as well. Might I suggest the fish as it seems to present a most pleasing display to the eye."

The shock and horror registering is noted, but Qesteris forges on, blinking, staring for the moment. So much food, no idea what to do. "I..." staring at the food while speaking to Yari, "Any suggestion for a sweet tooth? Those berries in the cream maybe?" looking up apologetically to Yari and then sweeping his gaze to Ban,

"Lord Iskender, a pleasure to run into you again. I do hope that you have been well, sir." bowing low at the waist now, quieting again.

"I'm not a fish man..." Tyrius says with a chuckle, "But I'll give it a try because you said it looked good." A wink is given to Senator Deserra before he bows his head respecfully to all those who have arrived and greeted him. "Pricess Aryn, Lord Iskender, a pleasure once again. Congratulations on your corrination." He raises that flue of brandy and downs another quick shot. "The party is a hit, I think." A playful chuckle.

<"Pardon the interruption good folk. I believe the dancing is about to commence. Of note, her Highness has indicated that a concerted effort be made to make this more memorable, we label the dance off as /the worst/ dance off and encourage a bit of intrigue. Hahaha! So feel free to step up when you're ready, and give it your best /worst/ shot!">

Aryn laughs at Lord Bodega's brow display and waves at him in kind. It was good to see him!! Her gaze travels then to Senator Aure and her companion! They appeared to be moving toward refreshments and food.. GOOD food, as it would be, and Yari was already moving to intercept and take care of them. Mother saver her, what a sweet girl!

At Ban's question, Aryn's gaze narrows on the uniformed medic, and she nods. "He is. He is known as Barad. Shall I introduce you officially?" Aryn glances up then when Aure's arrival takes her immediate attention. "Senator Aure! Master Qesteris! You both look /wonderful/! All the colors, Miss Aure, my what a beautiful display!" Aryn releases Ban to stand closer. That was when Tyrius arrived. "Thank you, my good Lord. The evening finds you well? Have you plans to join the dance?" Aryn needed a few more brandys.

Ban Iskender inclines his head and shoulders to Qesteris at the words in return. "Quite well, sir. And I daresay with such delights before you, you choice could go amiss," with a gesture of his free hand toward Yari's table. One black brow is raised at the announcement of 'worst' dancing, giving a look aside to Aryn. "Your Highness has well embraced a sense of humor, I see." As to Barad, "With my thanks, my Lady: yes."

Barad waits his place in the food line. It takes patience. It's a looooong line. But Barad has every confidence that the feasting shall be worth the waiting. He steps on forward, one pace at a time, elegant plate and cutlery in - paw. The time does give him plenty of chances to take in all of the finery and some of the pomp and circumstance. Nice. Soooooo many things he'd never even imagined existed! And all "under one roof" as well. Incredible, really. And a far, far cry from the Huttese slave ships of his long acquaintance. Life is surely a Grand Adventure! And the Universe hold wonders uncounted! Barad's big 'ole floopy ears manage to catch the sound of his name, waaaayyy up near the front of the line. Hm! Wonder what that's all about? Time will tell, Barad figures. As it usually does!

The wink given by Bodega causes Aure to incline her head, "Inform me if I have let you down. Though I do not think I will." She says in good cheer to the representative of Drik before her attention shifts back to the Princess. "I am glad you enjoy them. Trying to bring a little bit of Aurea wherever I go but you...so elegant and dignified. Very perfect for this occasion. You must share with me the information of your very skilled tailor who makes you a sight to behold." Oh the food is cooling and she grassp the small fork from her hand holding it against the plate. She draws it free and trying a piece she nods.

"Representative Bodega, I do think you will enjoy it. The skin is crispy." She watches the interactions of the others. "Worst dance..really. Hmmmm we may have to accept such a challenge." Her attention shifts to Barad as he is mentioned.

Satisfying tastebuds and tums - it's what Yari lives for, really. It's the one thing she does well. Unless you've a sock needs mending. She's good with socks. A pleased flush touches her cheeks, sensing the contentment with her fish, and ginger lashes blink a demure smile away toward...oh, he's looking at the berries? Or cake? Blue lips spell out 'cream', so Yari points to those berries adrift in the sea of it. Hoping. One hand dishes out a scoop into bowl, shimmying the spoon lightly so the berries stay on top. Such finesse! Such precision! Such...

Such...

Oh no. A strange look has come over the young woman's face, stare no longer engaged, focus turned inward. Cream quivers with the tremor in the hand offering it up. The tongs are clenched within a wrap of white knuckles. If the bowl isn't accepted immediately, it's dropped onto the neighboring sponge cake. The tongs, by contrast, are lain ever so measuredly on the tabletop, behind the fish. And pause. Eyes squinch shut, blocking out the universe, safe that for which is felt, and she sucks in a shallow gasp. Another one, hiccup to follow, as panic of party foul sets in.

She's got to go. She can't stay here. The faint aches and discomforts of the day have just intensified a /tad/ and it can mean no good comes of her continued service. Yari's on the move. Where to? She hasn't decided, but picking her way with hunched waddle down the line of table seems like a good place to begin. Away.

"I am not nearly drunk enough, yet, Princess. But perhaps if my mood lightens more you might join me?" Tyrius asks with a coy smirk, finishing off the flute of brandy. He thought about just todding it over his shoulder, letting it shatter, and not reacting with more than an impish smile... but he knew this was not Drik and that particular custom was not welcomed here. At least, he didn't think so. He looks around, left then right, brows narrowing and cape fluttering as he attempts to find a waiter. "Sir... you there..." He raises his glass towards one, indicating he'd like another. There's a look of contemplation at Aure's words, "I don't know... if I eat now, I'll ruin my buzz and have to drink this place out of home and hearth." He purces his lips, voice becoming smaller. "Then again... the spread does look fine." An eyes toeards Yari, a brow raising.

Taking the bowl and setting it aside, Qesteris's instincts go to war, lips pursing he turns, "Senator Bodega, I beg to send My Lady into your care and protection. Please think me not rude." bowing his head, not waiting confirmation. It's then the blue skinned man plants a hand on the table to whip himself up and over to the same side that poor Yari had been on - to move and provide her his arm.

"Lady, let me help you." brows knitting together, "Please?" leaning to murmur quietly.

"My good Lord: I suggest that even the greatest of appetites could not best Aldaraanian hospitality. Drink up, be merry, and.. do your worst," Ban chooses the words to Tyrius with a tight smile, before leaning closer to confide, "Better you than the Santhes, my lord." In what passes for politeness, Ban looks aside and pointedly doesn't notice Yari's rapid step away. It's as if it never happened. Qesteris is assured, "Be assured your charge will be most safe until your return, sir."

Aryn snatches another flute of .. something. Brandy? No. Wine! Alderaanian wine; the blue substance inside gives it away. The glass is chilled, reminiscent of the old mountains of the late world. She takes a measured drink as her gaze encompasses Lord Ban, Senator Aure, Qesteris, and Lord Bodega. "I thought it ideal for remembering when next court is held, who can go the extra lengths to be bad." Aryn comments, a crooked smile forming before taking another drink.

"I would be delighted to share their name with you, Miss Aure. They are always so enthusiastic to put me in a dress. Truthfully, I feel bare without a /cape/!" The last part is said in a slightly laughing voice though hushed, ideal for two ladies GOSSIPING! AHH!

"My good Lord Bodega, I'd be delighted! As I've no natural skill at the craft, beyond the dreadfully rehearsed movements of a ceremonial dance, I think being the worst will come naturally to me. Though.. judging from the contestants already.." Aryn starts to laugh. "I may be overshadowed in this affair as well! .. /Oh my../" Aryn is completely unaware of the medical situation happening with Miss Yari.

"BARAD!" Aryn calls out abruptly, her cheeks a little rosy. A timid gesture of her pale hand motions the medic closer! Come to us!

Aure is caught up in discussing fashion - something she apparently enjoys as she moves closer to Aryn to do so like conspirators while she eats flaking amazing fish between her comments. "Oh I do adore a good cape, its never been a going fashion on Aurea due to the warmer climate but here. Certainly adds to the important regal stature as well as the shoulders." This last is said with a convinced uptick of her brows and nod of her head, finger curling up with the fork to cover her mouth as there is a bit of food left as she speaks. "I might have to try a cape for myself for those cooler days on Chandrila." She looks positively excited. Glancing aside she watches Qesteris go after the fleeing young woman.

"How strange. Is she well?" But then Aryn is yelling Barad and she is blinking a bit, half leaning away as she offers a renewed smile at Aryn. "What a set of lungs."

"Lord Bodega I hope you would do me the honor of a dance?"

Lord Bodega gives a coy smirk towrads Ban as permission to get rekked is given... and doubly so by Aryn the Princess herself. "Well alright, alright. Hail to Alderaan then." Grabbing the new glass he starts to down that now as he meanders towards the food, picking off the piece of the fish that was suggested by Aure... "Hermm..." He studies it, sniffing it, before putting it in his mouth. "Savory... and sweet. Oh my." He turns, at least chewing the small bit with his mouth closed. He makes sure to swallow before smiling towards Aure, "Well of course. How could I day no?"

She should've stayed aboard the smelly flotilla. Or tented up in the Droalder foothills. She should not have come here. Her and her shabby dress--

The sudden proximity of Squamatan breathing in her ear jerks a startled, strangled-sounding squawk from Yari during this slo-mo getaway sttempt. She CAN make noise, it's true. One hand comes up reflexively to swat/shove/ward off any touch while the other arm wraps protectively around the source of present grief. The initial wave of fear and rejection morphs rapidly into apology and shame and she just flaps one hand as if to say 'leave me alone'. Her face is already turned to search the crowd for the one who ferried her here -- The brawny, older man who dwarfs her 5'10" frame with his own tree-like stature. He won't be hard to find, for he stands out as terribly as she does, in dress. If just a bit more handsome.

Yari's shuffle picks up speed, fueled by embarassment and the desire to crawl into a hole.

Barad is beckoned, and Barad heads over, still holding onto his plate with both hands, the forks and cutlery stacked so neatly atop its glistening pale white surface. "Excuse me. Pardon me. Pardom me, excuse me" <--- is repeated a score of times, or more, as Barad makes his way through the pressing throngs of people, in response to Aryn's call. It's tough going, through all of these people. Almost like he's "swimming upstream?" Sooner or later, though, Barad will manage it! Probably "Later than Sooner ..." but still! :)

Standing at the flappy gesture the look the sudden retreat. Gold eyes blinking. No good deed goes unpunished. How to fix this situation... There isn't one really. He looks like an ass. An adorable blue ass. But he is thoroughly embarrassed.

His hand comes up to wipe his hair back from his face when he smells something and his tongue flies out to clean the dollop of berry cream from his thumb.

• NOT NOW TONGUE!*
• GET WREKT REST OF ME!!*

Sigh...

Oaths and fealty and formalities...General Greystorm has seen and heard her share, in her day. Just not one pertaining to the Elder houses of Alderaan. That was Leia's world. Polar opposite of her own. But she's been here, sleek and sly and surveiling the perimeter with cool, quiet sweeps of her gaze. Fluted glass in hand, naturally. If she's armed, it doesn't show, aside from the lethal pair of heels that taps her along a leisurely prowl across the floor.

Aure may be trying not to glance aside at the fumble and flail of her personal guard with the young woman who could have been armed with tongs. Questionable. She smiles to herself behind another bite of food and she gives him a tilt of her head before her attention is drawn swiftly to that of Tyrius. "Well then, my lord. I suggest we both finish our plates lest they go to waste or get too cold to enjoy as they should be. Then..we will see who can dance. It has been some time so you must go easy." She instructs with a soft laugh.

She takes another bite of her fish and sighs, happily so. "Princess. We must have a day together to outfit ourselves several times over. I shall bring you somethign from Aurea."

"She does, indeed," Ban agrees to Aure's observation as to Aryn's possession of impressive lungs. A breath slowly drawn as the medic makes his polite way slowly (slowly, slowly) over. Musing on the subject of the dancing ahead, "A curious contradiction: to succeed at failing. Good defined by being bad. Quite scandalous," he deadpans to Aryn.

"Well then I'll make haste so that our time on he floor will come quicker." Tyrius offers the lady a wink, taking a plate full of this and that. HE finds a place to scarf it down... with at least an air of elegance. He was not a barbarian like that of his planets king. His mouth curled down in the thought of the Hapan. He reaches for a fresh flute of booze, downing that to wash away the face... that damn pretty face.

"Apologies," Aryn says to Aure. "I forget myself. Perhaps it is this wine. I've not consumed in abundance before, but following that ceremony, it's all I can manage to stop myself from drinking it.." Aryn gives a woeful look to the impossibly expensive wine before passing it off upon another tray carried by a well dressed man. Her cheeks stay red as she timidly looks down a moment.

"I must have missed what happened. Though, whoever it was, I wish them good health, of course." Aryn strains to see, but only observes shifting (well dressed) bodies obscuring any hope of detecting Yari's departure and Qesteris' shame(?).

"It will be a delight, Lord Bodega. Assuredly, and memorable. The lot of us trying to..dance poorly. I'm fortunate the holo-cameras were left outside."

To Aure again, "Oh, it'd be a delightful day to do so. I've quite the selection of capes. We've plenty use for them on this cold world."

To Ban, "What's a court without intrigue, sir-- Ah, Master Barad, you've made it to us, sir. I've someone who wants to meet you." She addresses. "This is Lord Ban Iskender, over there is Senator Aure of Aurea, Lord Tyrius Bodega of Drik, and Master Qesteris, a charming swordsman and guardian for the Senator. Everyone, please meet master Barad. A friend and colleague in the medical field. You may remember him from the dueling championship earlier this week....if you were there!"

Aryn has not yet noticed General Greystorm, but it was always the prowling soldier who spotted Aryn first. She had the eyes of.. something very attentive and precise!

Barad bows to each, in turn, as introductions are made. Ban he knows from their adventures together. Drik, of course, has been made well - famous by the exploits of the King. Qesteris also gets a bow and a big 'ole cheery toothy grin, as well as Senator Aure in turn! "Very good to meet you all! My compliments to your Chef and Staff. Truly, this is quite tremendous. And congratulations, to Aryn!" Barad sums up. Basically, it's a big long way of saying: "YYAAYY!!"

Coughing and clearing his throat, Qesteris slinks back to the table - seeing The Aure under the care of others. He looks to the berries, then to his charge again. Remembering his duties and looking sadly to the confection lost.

The plight of the Squamatan. Woe be to he who stands now in quiet woe of his own plight. How grand is his embarrassment! How final his humiliation! Flappy handed at. Batted aside! How woe betide his tale in hopes of being a man of noble intention.

In short... Well, this sucks...

Side-eying berries again before resuming guard mode, watching the Aure and her surroundings.

There is a wary look to the Senator of Drik when he begins packing the food away. Clearing her throat she finishes a few more bites of her fish before she pleasantly smiles to Barad when he makes his way over. A gracious bow of her head to him while she eats and she winks at Aryn, as if to quietly and wordlessly promise a shopping excursion in the near future. New outfits of extravagance must be had. It is when Qesteris returns that she finds her words and a chance to lower the last of her the fish on her plate. There is a soft whisper into his ear before she adjusts the collar of his jacket slightly. A fondness resides in her attentions before she glances back to the gathered. "It is truly a lovely event, Princess. And enjoy yourself. Drink more. I suspect Lord Ban will be certain you get home."

A court without intrigue? Ban ventures to guess, "A Santhe's sentencing?" Barad's arrival returns him to a more olite form of speech. "Master Barad, well met once more. I hope to hear that the fare meets your approval?" At Qesteris' return, Ban acknowledges the swordsman with a short nod, marking the end of it being Ban's fault is Aure were to be murdered. A dip of his head to the VERY UN-MURDERED Aure, with a small smile. "I shall indeed, Senator," before his eye and small smile turn to Aryn. "Shall we set the example for your guests, Highness?"

"Princess Cole," Ambrosia intones with a small lift of glass when she makes it that far. "Barad, Senators, Lord Iskender..." Everyone is gifted a mild, civil smile and bow of braided crown. "I've no doubt General Organa would have enjoyed the evening thus far." High compliments, truly. What did they drug her with? Crystaline clarity shines through that glittering, green gaze though as she watches Aure's presumed bodyguard retake his position.

Barad smuggles some berries to the silently - suffering Qesteris - on - guard. Not in any kind of subtle way or anything. He just kind of scoops up two big bowls and heads on over, with a "Wow! You've got to try -These-!" and a big 'ole toothy grin on his shaggy fuzzy angular face. One can't possibly be expected to be so rude as to refuse, now, can one? Barad holds out a paw with the delectable bowl of treasure, towards Q.

Lord Bodega didn't take a large plate, just enough to taste a bit of everything and soak up a bit of the booze he had been downing. He finishes off his fourth glass of the night, standing and leaving the emptied glass and plate for the help to take care of. He'd spotted her, the General, and putting on his best smile he skimmed a flute of wine from a server on his way back over towards the crowd. "Ahhh. General. Nice to see you again." Force help him, "I was just about to see if THe Princess or the Senator were ready to dance. You should join us." A smile.

"I suppose he can be trusted with such a daunting task." Aryn asides to Aure, with a crooked smile.

"Mother save us, I hope not!" In reply to it being a Santh Sentencing! AHH!

"General Greystorm, you honor us with your presence. Leia would've been delighted you came-- You look very lovely." Either Aryn's cheeks were an indicator of her timid nature, or she was a few drinks in already.

"Just so, we are glad you're here Barad! Thank you!"

Aryn gets a few prompts to go dancing, both by Lord Bodega and Lord Iskender! Intrigue!!

"Gentlemen.. ladies.. I'm to the dance floor to show them how it's done. Keep up, if you can stomach it..."

Thus, Aryn walks out toward the dance floor. /Oh my./

Another small movement of his eyes when the Aure adjusts his collars and he himself stands up a little straighter - gaze trailing after her movements before he is lookin around the room again. Qesteris nods slightly.

"As you wish, My Lady" he cannot resist. He must have berries. Lifting up the bowl he does the only thing that he can do to keep his staff in hand while eating berries and cream.

Mlem.

Munch munch munch.

Mlem.

Ban Iskender offers a short, dignified bow to Aryn as the Princess leads the way to the dance floor. It is.. the last dignified gesture he offers for some time. While skilled in the formal courtly dances of the nobility, this.. is not that. "By all that is holy, I hope there are no cameras," Ban notes under his breath.

Aure watches the Princess and the Lord, a distent inspection of their formality before she finishes the rest of her fish and finds the best place to deposit her plate. Once she is hands free she considers the dance floor and starts to pick her way there. Her partner, whoever they shall be will have to find her there lest she make a fool of herself alone. Let her help you! No matter who so deigns to dance with her she glances to the others. "I do not feel like waiting. The Princess as the right of it."

"I would be remiss to decline, would I not?" Okay, there were definitely some meds in play, in Ambrosia's system this evening. She DID just get run through with a sword at the tournament (price of victory!!) so it stands to reason. There may be a /slight/ fraction of offbeat steppages to her stride as she follows these SUPER dignified dignitaries toward the designated dancefloor. The remainder of her glass is swallowed and empty deposited on a passing tray as she goes. So expertly timed.

One does not dance by herself, of course. Greystorm's days of amusing others with her moves are long gone. Some 3, 4 decades behind her. But. She'll accept a partner if one should appear, and adopts the 'lead' to bodily guide their steps into submission with an unabashed pressing of her own thigh or torso as needed. There is no room for BAD dancing! Come now. Whatever is the point????

Grumpy Greystorm honestly has no clue.

Tyrius had not danced in a long time. Even the rehersed courtly dancing. Usually he stood in the corner and drank... or ate. Though, with so many lovely ladies about he had to give it a try. He'd spin his arms around each other, throwing one out, and then the other, timed to the rythem. His rear stuck out, shaking. He was feeling it, shaking his head, eyes half lided. It was aweful, but maybe not as bad as some of the others.

What initiated as a scandalous affair quickly climbed the heights of hilarity, that much of the hall was into the new style of intriguing, care-free dance! Oh the feral arms swinging, oh the poorly judged hip thrusts and booty jiggles. Aryn had walked out there with such confidence, and by the mid of whatever routine she had, she was lost to giggling. GIGGLING and laughter! Everywhere she turned, everyone was smiling, laughing, and dancing with seemingly no care!

She felt lightheaded, eyes half lidded as she took a deep breath and released it. Her pricey shoes came off, with the help of someone steadying her a moment while one was drawn off-- then the other-- and out pads Aryn to join again, renewed vigor!

<"Quite some competition out tonight!"> The announcer says, laughing. "Wooooo!" Aryn says, her hands coming up embarassingly as she backs that thing up!

Mlem...

Lookin' down on a bowl of berries he won't return. In a sea of cream whipped frothy and rich. Scooped by a lady too heavy in burlap and baby. There for the Mlem Of berries go Qest.

Mlem.

He is too blue for this party. These people. This. No.

Too blue for this shavit.

Be it the drink or the jubilant atmosphere (or a case of mass hysteria from something in the food) Ban is laughing rather openly. Smiling broadly. Not even in the 'hmm, yes' sort of reserved way he usually does. He draws off his cape and doublet to continue the festivities.

Tyrius chuckles and laughs, spining around and tapping his cape against the floor like the jolly old man he his. Snapping his fingers and waggling his upper body, jiving left and then right, swivling those old hips. He needed the booze to forgit his authritise probably. "Not bad, not bad... hey!"

With Tyrius as her dance partner for a round, the Aure excuses herself after a kiss to his cheek in thanks. Her olive cheeks are flushed with the exertion of her dancing but she slowly leaves the floor enroute for some sort of fizzing water that will help bring down her inner temperature. Fanning herself with her hand she smiles, having looked rather joyful out on the floor with no hitn for feeling bad about the hip wiggle and shoulder roll she did. She watches from the sideline after acquiring a drink and lets herself calm slowly.

That's it. The dancefloor is ripe with contagion of unknown origin (merriment) and Greystorm can't cope. Or compete. She just doesn't /do/ silly. Ask the grandson. (poor boy)

Okay maybe there was that one time with the Ewoks on the forest moon, but everyone does stupid shavit in their twenties, aight? Aight.

None of these kids were alive to see it, anyway. And Tyrius was presumably...Drik'ing.

A halfhearted bow to her partner sees Ambrosia smoothly trying to extricate herself from situation.

The party reached new heights as the next event, which was in a similar theme, was announced. <"For your pleasure, or torment, her Highness has requested the next event begin. Our singers! Those who can.. or well, /can't/ make your way to the front! Haha! Our staff is handing out ear protection for those with tinnitus, juuust in case..">

Outside the palace, the sound of the inner bass began to rattle the windows. In the bay, at night, the lights of passing barges and ships coming to port are cast in the pink and orange hue of fireworks as they launch out over the boardwalk. It was a good night on New Alderaan!

Ambrosia Greystorm discretely reaches up to kill her hearing aids.