SoS B1 C1 X3: Blood Traitor
Two of the five were mountains among men, heads clad in helms bearing horns and a faceplate that bore only the engraving of a single great cyclopean eye. One stood at the front, two more lurked behind the men-mountains, visible only as the group crossed the floor and made for one of the wings. A GearHeart, and another with a deep cloak. The Men-Mountains regarded Don and Ulysses as they entered. "-Blood traitors,-" one muttered to the other, earning an amused grunt. Endeavoring to at least appear sober, Immuena simply asks the daunting mountain-men and their leader, "Can we help you?" in a polite tone, of course. Little did she know, she appeared more sober than she could've dreamed. Her hair, fixed, her gaze, locked, her words, steady, and most importantly, her posture was reminiscent of royalty. Allarah stood and strode toward the men mountains, made more bold by the drink, but nothing showed through her face and actions. As far as others were concerned she was stone cold sober. She stopped when she was five feet from them and responded in their native tongue. "-Why not repeat that in Ubiq?-" As one, the group stops. One of the men mountains took a step forward and started to speak. Their leader raised his hand to stop them. "Dmitry... -Be still.-" Dmitry grunted and stopped advancing, but he was so close that he and Allarah were still almost face to face. The leader looked coolly up at Allarah, then to Immuena, a complex expression playing over his face as he looked the Faecha from heel to peak. "You already have. You and Hedon, that is -- you're going to make it far too easy to induct Saumai into the Somnancy." Allarah and Dmitry were still squaring off. The two figures at the back of the party were ushered up the stairs by a glance from their leader, and moved with heads and shoulders bowed. "Confident aren’t we?" Allarah didn't look away from Dmetri nor change her posture. She was determined to stand her ground. The leader of the Somnolent Convoy gave Allarah a smirk as he looked up into her eyes and studied her features. "And why not? The Empire of the Somnolent, whom we serve with utmost dedication, will not fail." His smirk became a genuine smile, radiant with pride for his cause. Dmitry was leaning so close now that the ram horns of his helmet were quite nearly tangling themselves with Allarah’s own. Ulysses stood and took a swing of his beer. He remembered people like this. People who thought they were better than others just because they had power, money, or a God who told him they were. He hated them. "Look buddy we’re not here for trouble and I don't think you are either, but if you keep on pushing, you’ll certainly find it.” Ulysses looked him dead in the eyes. “Now if you'd be so kind please step away from my friend." Putting his arm between Allarah and Dmitri, he guided the larger man back a step, then raised his beer up smiling. "Now how about we all calm down and have a drink." Dmitri, obviously shaken that Ulysses would dare touch him (and, perhaps, by the unshakeable Allarah staring him up) weakly slapped at Ulysses hand. The smaller IreHeart dodged easily. "How dare you touch me, blood traitor!" Ulysses, pulled up his arms ready to throw a punch or pull weapon but he knew how this was to going to go, and, not wishing to cause too many problems, said, "Look as I said before we’re not looking for a fight but I am sure as hell ready to give you one." Tskhan rushed over to Ulysses and pulled him away from Dmitry. He looked at Ulysses. "We don't need you having a spat with the people we may share a table with before our feast." Tskhan turned to Dmitry's group, "This one is just a little hot under the collar. Nothing to get upset about; right?" He gave his best but most awkward smile. Immuena stood abruptly, with all the intimidation a five and a half foot verin could muster, “Now that that's resolved, could we resign ourselves to conversation, at least for tonight.” she worded her statement like a request, but never indicated it was a question. “Otherwise I can handle this situation by other means.” Darting her eyes around to their leader, to their projections, to Dmitri, then locking them back onto the leader. Standing there with her arms at her crossed and a wicked grin. Immuena then attempted to establish a telepathic connection with the Hedonist leader, waiting on a response from the Somnolent leader. The whole of the Somnolent's envoy froze as one. Imperceptible little twitches: glaces to each other, changes in posture, micro-nods -- a whole conversation in innuendo. The FirstHeart leader smiled suddenly. "Of course," he said, turning away from Immuena to face the Tskhan." Such is the way of IreHearts. I suppose he and Dmitri just have a bit too much in common, hmm?" He chuckled. Immuena's connection went through to the Hedon FirstHeart leader. <The other IreHeart is staring at you, be careful.> He opened with. Sure enough, while everyone else was staring at Tskhan, the second IreHeart was staring directly at Immuena. They looked away as she noticed. "Well, we must be going, then. Thank you for the..." he looked at Immuena, then Ulysses, then Tskhan before scanning the rest. "Confidence boost. See you at the dinner." The three left, projections in tow. The other two of their number had slipped out at the beginning of the altercation. After the group scurried out, Immuena relaxed a bit. "Thank you all." She states with a nod and a smile at the various crewmen in the room. <And you too. I doubt I would've noticed. I think we have something very serious to discuss. Care to have a private chat later?> Continuing the connection, she settled herself in her seat for a breather. <I think to not would be suicide, and I'm not sure if I mean that merely metaphorically,> he responded. He gave no sign of being in conversation. He and the rest of Hedon's attention were on the Manne Kin Mir, who trembling violently. "Take her to our quarters," he murmured to the Vodalkyn, Synna. She nodded and guided Mir out. Allarah turned to Tskhan and Ulysses. Her shoulders relaxed and she looked almost ashamed of herself. "I'm... I'm sorry you had to step in. I was foolish and I let my emotions get the better of me. I'll try to avoid a repeat... it's just that... the term blood traitor is... it's a sore spot for me. I'm sorry." She turned and walked to a more empty corner of the hall and sat alone with her head between her knees. The past had a way of sneaking up on her. She didn't care if she hid her torment or not. She needed to think, or to be alone; neither would ever make his face leave her mind though. Immuena followed suit, pretending she wasn't telepathically communicating with the FirstHeart. Mostly she sat and rubbed her brow with her fingers, with a quizzical look on her face. <Do you know where would be best, or when? We haven't explored much and magic is rather stigmatized here.> <So we're told.> The FirstHeart sipped his wine. <We've picked up too many traces of meta since we arrived to be coincidental. If a meeting is absolutely necessary right now we can rope in Synna, and she'll protect our connection so we can have a secure chat presently.> <How dire a threat do you think dinner will be? I firmly believe we should recollect our respective groups and discuss working together with them before proceeding.> The little verin picked herself up and started assessing the emotional damage on her comrades. <Obviously there is collateral damage on both ends. What say you?> <I don't suspect dinner will be violent, if that's what you're concerned about. The Somnolent's envoy brought suitcases and amenities, do you think they'd do that if they weren't planning on at least pretending to be civil for a little while? They're going to be aggressive, but I suspect they're going to be crafty... the latter is what worries me. It's rare for the Somnolent to send an envoy over a battle cruiser. What's their angle?> He looked around, nodded, and stood. <Agreed. Let's recollect our groups and meet for dinner. Ah, and... don't use any telepathy at dinner, I think, it could jeopardize us both.> <I'll try and dig deeper into what they're playing at. I agree, the idea of them being crafty concerns me. Sabotage? We'll discuss it later.> Likewise, Immuena beckoned her envoy, "Come, we need to calm ourselves before dinner." <Also, I didn't intend to. I believe this is risky as it. Any last notes?> <Yes, don't die. You and your envoy are entertaining.> He, Lysjho, and his Sauthe Verin left. The Federation Envoy was alone again. <Same to you. I rather enjoy your group.> Then the telepathy line died out, and Immuena focused on her crew mates. “Fuck” Ulysses knew he messed up bad letting his temper get the best of him again. He grabbed a chair and two bottles of wine. He pulled the chair right next to Allarah and passed her a wine bottle. “Look sorry about causing some shit back there I let my hot head get the best to me.” Ulysses took a knife and used it to pop the wine open, then took a swig. It was a bit too free for his taste but it got the job done. “Look I know from my time in the Army that sometimes keeping things….well, things happen.” He trailed off for a few seconds staring at his feet. “and bottling them up is easier than letting them out, but, just know one causes a lot more pain than the other.” Memories started to float up, memories he wanted to forget. “And I understand why you’d want to, but as I said before, it's not the best idea... so if you need someone to talk to, give me a heads up.” Ulysses took another big swig of the wine. “and if that asshole fucks with you again, give me a heads up and I’ll put him back in his place.” "You have no need to apologize. In fact, that role should be mine. I instigated the situation afterall... I'm sorry, but I'd like to be alone." She stood, just managing to level a small smile at him. "Thank you for your concern." She left him there with a nod to find their room.