Xochilt
Oculus Network
Sith Imperial Star Destroyer
The Palpatine ( Mason is clearly tipsy)
There were some things that were unavoidable. Taxes. Death.
Formal affairs of state.
A smirk drew across XoChitl's full crimson lips, a rather devilish glint reflecting in her citrine eyes at the rather monotonous attendants in front of her.
One could only wonder which of the two they tried to avoid the most.
The great ballroom of Imperial Star Destroyer had been prepared earlier that day. It was a formal affair. Black tie.... or dress uniform.
Left...right... left... The sway of full hips provided a tantalizing picture for those surrounding the Zeltron Intelligence Deputy Director as she wandered on by. Orange eyes glittered with what appeared to be boredom as the female idly rotated round and round twin small spheres in her hand, a small tick she had developed in her youth to pass the time among other things.
She was older now; although with the way she carried herself, one would remark she was still an exotically striking woman. Crimson skin, orange eyes, and unlike her Special Agent days, had cut her snow-white hair and kept it in a perfect side parted bob.
For the occasion she didn't bother with formal dress; instead she sported a slinky blue number that left little to no imagination of the body underneath. The fabric was like a second skin, and it bore testimony that she clearly didn't wear anything underneath it.
If she was going to partake with this ungodly boring event, she was certainly going to dress the part for entertainment purposes.
A game, a game. It was always a game, and right now, she was looking for one to pass the time while old crust-busters reminisced about the old times.
What to do... and whom to do it to? The thought tickled her senses and a mischievous glint sparkled in her eyes.
The Palpatine ( Mason is clearly tipsy)
There were some things that were unavoidable. Taxes. Death.
Formal affairs of state.
A smirk drew across XoChitl's full crimson lips, a rather devilish glint reflecting in her citrine eyes at the rather monotonous attendants in front of her.
One could only wonder which of the two they tried to avoid the most.
The great ballroom of Imperial Star Destroyer had been prepared earlier that day. It was a formal affair. Black tie.... or dress uniform.
Left...right... left... The sway of full hips provided a tantalizing picture for those surrounding the Zeltron Intelligence Deputy Director as she wandered on by. Orange eyes glittered with what appeared to be boredom as the female idly rotated round and round twin small spheres in her hand, a small tick she had developed in her youth to pass the time among other things.
She was older now; although with the way she carried herself, one would remark she was still an exotically striking woman. Crimson skin, orange eyes, and unlike her Special Agent days, had cut her snow-white hair and kept it in a perfect side parted bob.
For the occasion she didn't bother with formal dress; instead she sported a slinky blue number that left little to no imagination of the body underneath. The fabric was like a second skin, and it bore testimony that she clearly didn't wear anything underneath it.
If she was going to partake with this ungodly boring event, she was certainly going to dress the part for entertainment purposes.
A game, a game. It was always a game, and right now, she was looking for one to pass the time while old crust-busters reminisced about the old times.
What to do... and whom to do it to? The thought tickled her senses and a mischievous glint sparkled in her eyes.