![House-Verd.png]](https://i.ibb.co/XY5FZ6c/House-Verd.png])
N A B O O
POLARIS COURT
Golbah Hill, Confederate Capital
A mere handful of hours had passed.
After suffering a grievous defeat, the Vicelord had resigned himself to fulfilling the tenets of his role. The light of day waned, giving way to the darkness of evening. Behind him, the bright windows dulled as the sun dipped beneath the horizon. Yet, despite the change in hour, one thing remained constant. His fingers continued to fly across his keypad. His thoughts rampaged into being upon his screen; with the only pause occurring to stifle a yawn or two. The cycle of typing and biting back fatigue would continue, until the sanctity of his office was corrupted.
This time, a single knock sounded upon the door before it was opened. In stepped three figures who were intimately familiar with the office. Frankly, the fact that they knocked caused Darth Metus' eyebrow to raise. What's more, the second they arrived, the neutral scent of the room was decimated. A wonderous aroma took its place - something clearly was un-alived, deep fried, and smothered in sauce. The Vicelord was suddenly aware of the rumbling in his stomach.
"Dinner has arrived." said
Srina Talon
. Ever the epitome of grace, the alabaster woman descended onto one of the sofa's like a fallen feather. Her compatriots, Adron Malvern and John Locke, were far less graceful. The liege of Ilyria settled onto the adjacent seat and promptly man spread like he owned it. John plopped down and reared his head back, unleashing a heavy sigh.
"Oh feth yes." Metus said, rising from his seat. Eager strides bore him to the Echani's side, where his hands then rubbed together furiously. "What's on the menu?"
"You know what's on the menu, boss." came the nearly exasperated voice of Locke & Key's CEO. The Vicelord had to nearly stifle a laugh. Clearly, he was the only one who thought the predicament was funny. "Do we know how dumb we looked at the restaurant?" Adron chimed in. If looks could kill, Darth Metus would have been eighteen feet under. This only caused the man to snicker. The only one who didn't get the joke was, of course, Srina. The Vicelord's wild sense of humor often went over her head.
"I don't see the issue. They didn't have what he wanted, so we substituted."
"Srina.."
"Of course they don't. There's no such thing as gluten free, sugar free, calorie free, fried nuna. He was fething with us."
Srina settled her wintry gaze upon her Master, then back to her peers. She shook her head, gently. "I cannot blame Him for wanting to watch his figure. He is heavier now than the start of this year."
"Hey!"
Adron smelled blood in the water. "Man is built like a sad ice cream cone." John chuckle aloud, sitting up in the seat. "Alright alright, before you two get into it...again...let's just eat. It's been a long day."
The Sith placed his hand upon his chest, face pleading. "John, I would never go fit for tat with my dear friend." The lie was so thick that even Srina rolled her eyes. Nonetheless, the Vicelord and his Exarchs quickly turned the ornate coffee table between them into a potluck. Dishes from the local restaurant were laid out in paper containers, chopsticks and forks abounded, and each could simply pluck what they wanted. After a few moments of voracious grubbing, Adron was the first to break the silence.
"Heard a transmission from the Eternals today." he said. "Apparently, the first couple are...gone."
That was a touchy subject. For one, the Tacitus-lead Empire was at fault for The Kuat Affair. The day was one that saw loss on all sides, especially Srina. And another thing, the nation was headed by Adron's flesh and blood. A fact that wasn't common knowledge until this very day. "I saw." said the Vicelord, pausing only to grab an egg roll. "Stuck in another dimension, huh."
"Yeah.."
"And you and Faye are traitors, huh."
"Yeah.."
"That's a damn shame. John, sent the Inquisition to Illyria right away. Can't trust this fether as far as I can throw hi-"
The Vicelord pointed his chopsticks in mock accusation, but it didn't end well. Before he could finish the sentence, Adron had beaned him with a piece of fried nuna. Darth Metus immediately raised his egg roll to return fire, but his wrist was stopped by Srina's swift intervention.
"Boys," she said, her tone condescending, "hasn't anyone told you not to play with your food?"
In unison, the four howled with laughter.
Golbah Hill, Confederate Capital
A mere handful of hours had passed.
After suffering a grievous defeat, the Vicelord had resigned himself to fulfilling the tenets of his role. The light of day waned, giving way to the darkness of evening. Behind him, the bright windows dulled as the sun dipped beneath the horizon. Yet, despite the change in hour, one thing remained constant. His fingers continued to fly across his keypad. His thoughts rampaged into being upon his screen; with the only pause occurring to stifle a yawn or two. The cycle of typing and biting back fatigue would continue, until the sanctity of his office was corrupted.
This time, a single knock sounded upon the door before it was opened. In stepped three figures who were intimately familiar with the office. Frankly, the fact that they knocked caused Darth Metus' eyebrow to raise. What's more, the second they arrived, the neutral scent of the room was decimated. A wonderous aroma took its place - something clearly was un-alived, deep fried, and smothered in sauce. The Vicelord was suddenly aware of the rumbling in his stomach.
"Dinner has arrived." said
Srina Talon
. Ever the epitome of grace, the alabaster woman descended onto one of the sofa's like a fallen feather. Her compatriots, Adron Malvern and John Locke, were far less graceful. The liege of Ilyria settled onto the adjacent seat and promptly man spread like he owned it. John plopped down and reared his head back, unleashing a heavy sigh. "Oh feth yes." Metus said, rising from his seat. Eager strides bore him to the Echani's side, where his hands then rubbed together furiously. "What's on the menu?"
"You know what's on the menu, boss." came the nearly exasperated voice of Locke & Key's CEO. The Vicelord had to nearly stifle a laugh. Clearly, he was the only one who thought the predicament was funny. "Do we know how dumb we looked at the restaurant?" Adron chimed in. If looks could kill, Darth Metus would have been eighteen feet under. This only caused the man to snicker. The only one who didn't get the joke was, of course, Srina. The Vicelord's wild sense of humor often went over her head.
"I don't see the issue. They didn't have what he wanted, so we substituted."
"Srina.."
"Of course they don't. There's no such thing as gluten free, sugar free, calorie free, fried nuna. He was fething with us."
Srina settled her wintry gaze upon her Master, then back to her peers. She shook her head, gently. "I cannot blame Him for wanting to watch his figure. He is heavier now than the start of this year."
"Hey!"
Adron smelled blood in the water. "Man is built like a sad ice cream cone." John chuckle aloud, sitting up in the seat. "Alright alright, before you two get into it...again...let's just eat. It's been a long day."
The Sith placed his hand upon his chest, face pleading. "John, I would never go fit for tat with my dear friend." The lie was so thick that even Srina rolled her eyes. Nonetheless, the Vicelord and his Exarchs quickly turned the ornate coffee table between them into a potluck. Dishes from the local restaurant were laid out in paper containers, chopsticks and forks abounded, and each could simply pluck what they wanted. After a few moments of voracious grubbing, Adron was the first to break the silence.
"Heard a transmission from the Eternals today." he said. "Apparently, the first couple are...gone."
That was a touchy subject. For one, the Tacitus-lead Empire was at fault for The Kuat Affair. The day was one that saw loss on all sides, especially Srina. And another thing, the nation was headed by Adron's flesh and blood. A fact that wasn't common knowledge until this very day. "I saw." said the Vicelord, pausing only to grab an egg roll. "Stuck in another dimension, huh."
"Yeah.."
"And you and Faye are traitors, huh."
"Yeah.."
"That's a damn shame. John, sent the Inquisition to Illyria right away. Can't trust this fether as far as I can throw hi-"
The Vicelord pointed his chopsticks in mock accusation, but it didn't end well. Before he could finish the sentence, Adron had beaned him with a piece of fried nuna. Darth Metus immediately raised his egg roll to return fire, but his wrist was stopped by Srina's swift intervention.
"Boys," she said, her tone condescending, "hasn't anyone told you not to play with your food?"
In unison, the four howled with laughter.
