Faction Wedding of Lady Athlea and Diarch Rellik (DIA & Friends)

[Judah Dashiell]

"Thank you. Don't worry, I only know the bride, so I doubt anyone will be asking of my attention for this evening. I will stay glued to you like a geriatric body guard."

Judah chuckled at his own self deprecation as they walked up the drive. As they did, he was reflecting on Liin Terallo 's words of having a wedding so large and such a spectacle. Having just come from one from the Commonwealth, Judah bemused it must be symbolic wedding season. Lucky for him none close in his circle were planning on getting married, so he could be a spectator rather than participant.

"I agree to a point. My ex-wife and I got married on the beach. Just us. We didn't have the credits for anything big and she was pregnant, so a bit of haste there so my Ma didn't kill me." A shake of his head. "My eldest son was married in a greenhouse - decorative one - in a private ceremony with just close friends and family. I think that was a nice compromise."

A pause as they moved closer to the mansion, eyes taking in where the main entrance was. A small group was assembled there, stragglers like themselves before the ceremony started.

"Given who the Diarch is...I am not surprised. I think these things are supposed to be a symbol of strength. A show of stability. However, I do agree with you that is is quite dangerous. A balancing act, I suppose? Given the need to invite outsiders but also worried someone could use that opportunity for something nefarious."

A small shrug.

"I'm sure we passed at least four snipers in the bushes on the walk up, so I would suspect they are prepared." Head turned to look at Miss Terrallo. "Do you wish to wed someday? Or do you find the entire institution a prison?

 

[Zaytee]

Walking across the open entrance of the estate, Zaytee's body stayed stiff, her steps mechanic, and her arms tightly gripped Viari's arm next to her, trying to keep up with the Rishii's bigger steps, while she anxiously glanced at every reflective surface around them. She touched her hair again and again, hoping to keep it the way she had worked so hard to achieve, and made sure that the little flowercrown on her head stood straight too, not losing any petals on their way, while her tail anxiously moved back and forth behind her.

All this celebratory attire with the long skirt that hid most of her light green tail and robe that was always in the way of her arms were definitely out of her usual style... She was used to pants, less formal, but more favourable clothings that she didn't hesitate to get dirty for a second... But a wedding like this probably worth the effort of dressing up all nice and pretty.

After all, this was their dear Diarch's wedding. It was the start of something new in the life of someone all of them loved and respected, and they felt honored to get an invitation to this big event.

"Are you sure it looks good? I feel like a scarecrow..." She muttered to the giant bird next to her, her fingers brushing out imaginary knots from the end of her hair. "And my skirt? Should I tuck in my tail? What if the bride falls over it?"

Viari Banu

 

[Liin Terallo]

His question settled into me more deeply than I expected it to. Do I wish to wed someday? For a moment I watch the lanternlight tremble against the stone facade ahead of us. I have spent years disentangling myself from narratives others were eager to write on my own behalf. “I do not believe marriage is a prison,” I respond quietly. “Not when it is chosen freely.”

I pause for a moment while I delve into a bit of quiet reflection before continuing. “When I was younger, I did imagine it differently. Being romanced. Being… deliberately chosen. Swept off one’s feet in some grand, improbable fashion.” I allow myself a small, self-aware smile. “It is a pleasant dream. One that rarely survives contact with politics, expectation, or convenience. I left a great deal behind because people seemed more invested in constructing love stories for me than allowing me to live one - or not live one - on my own terms.” There it was. My answer to him was both honest and controlled.

“I would not call marriage a prison,” I added after a quiet beat. “But I have no desire to become someone’s ornament. Or rumor.” Then, because I will not let the mood to grow too heavy, I added with a small smile: “But should some theatrical soul attempt to sweep me off my feet this evening, I trust my geriatric bodyguard will ensure that his intentions are rigorously vetted.”

Tag: Judah Dashiell

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren settled into her seat beside him with quiet ease, smoothing the fabric of her dress at her knees before turning her attention back to Kallous. She had listened to him with genuine warmth, her expression softening as he spoke about his mentor and the day's meaning. It was clear how much this moment mattered to him, and she respected that deeply.

When he finally thanked her, her lips curved into a gentle, friendly smile, one that reached her eyes.

She leaned just slightly toward him, keeping her voice low so as not to disturb the gathering around them.

"You're welcome," she said softly. "I'm really glad you asked me to come."

Her gaze flicked briefly toward the pavilion and the guests before returning to him.

"It means a lot to see something like this," she continued, her tone thoughtful. "To see people choosing each other openly, without fear. It's…grounding, in its own way."

She hesitated for half a second, then let herself be honest, her smile warming just a little.

"And I've enjoyed spending time with you," she added. "I'd like to do that more, if you'd like. Outside of ceremonies and formal things."

There was no pressure in her words, only sincerity.

"If you find that agreeable, of course," she finished lightly, giving him a small, reassuring look as the music nearby began to shift, signaling that the ceremony would soon begin.

Kallous

 

[Tertius C. Nargath]

It was strange to Tertius, to realize that the Diarch Rellik he knew would be the one to marry, from all he knew about the bald bruiser, the Nargath nobleman had never thought this day would come and though they had drifted apart in their dealings and social interactions, the Marquis of Valkan wasn't going to pass on the occassion. He couldn't exactly figure out what sort of gift he would or could've given the man about to become someone's husband, but he did know that the diarch was very much aware that they'd only need to ask, and they'd get something they'd always wanted or desired in a jiffy.

Still, arriving at the estate, the N&Z chairman found the place rather quaint, calm and serene, rather perfect for the idealistic nature a marriage represented and as such, the Marquis was enjoying himself almost instantaneously, having been given a quiet entry and a good glass of Nabooan berry wine, all the man waited for was the first appearance of the groom. A wait which didn't take long, when he could see the shiny head with an even shinier smile passing him by.

"Wait a moment Diarch Rellik ," Tertius exclaimed, moving towards the man and reaching for the necktie, pulling it straight and attempting to dust off the man's shoulders. "One should not look anything besides their absolute best in the presence of their soon to be significant other."

 

[Vyllia Sancetti]

Objective: Stand with Iandre, witness the binding ritual.
Location:
Outfit: Bride's Maid Dress
Tag: Iandre Athlea | OPEN

Vyllia was not expecting to be asked to participate in the wedding of the Diarch and his Lady bride. Maldor had always been much more connected to the Diarches through Reign. Vyllia despite having always lived in high luxury. A pampered child, a young leader of her family, a wealthy businesswoman. Since coming to the Diarch after the assassination attempt, she had found herself much more of a "for the people" person. She had agreed to join the Chancellorate, until her recent resignation, but even there she took a pretty laid-back approach. She focused on what was best for the citizens. That did not always bring her closer to the ultimate leadership of the faction.

As she knew it was time to step back, at least for the time being, Vyllia had loose ends to tie. House Sancetti was still going to have to be present in the workings of the Diarchy. There was plenty that Maldor and Vyllia could do from their home as they grew their family somewhat in isolation, but the House would need to be visible. Their ward Lyorra Voss-Sancetti would bear that responsibility. A lovely girl who Vyllia didn't know nearly as well as she would have liked because Lyorra was much more like Maldor than Vyllia. That being the case, Vyllia tried to lay the groundwork for a smooth entry to the hierarchy of the Diarchy. That included reaching out the the Lilaste Order. Not wanting to trouble the Order's head, Vyllia had somehow ended up talking with Iandre instead. It was over this short time that a friendship began to flourish, resulting in Vyllia's surprise role in the wedding.

The ceremony was about to get started. Vyllia gave a happy sigh of remembrance. Her own special day was not so long ago. Even if a lot had happened since then. It was such a joyous day. But so stressful. Vyllia had been there for most of Iandre's preparation but had left the finishing touches to the attendants. Before the bride made her trumpeted appearance, Vyllia and the other bridesmaid were escorted down the aisle to the front of the crowd to stand with the officiant of the ceremony. She wished Maldor had come. But she understood the need to make things ready before they welcomed a new Sancetti into the galaxy.

As Iandre stepped out into the garden pavilion Vyllia couldn't help a smile. Good things were happening. Even in the wake of the Mandalorian invasion, and the mess that had created the Diarchy was moving on. This night would be a symbol for a lot of people. Vyllia did not envy the pressure that would put on Iandre. Vyllia would do her best to make sure at least for this night Iandre was able to enjoy herself. For now Vyllia stood her bouquet of flowers in hand as she waited for Iandre to approach.

 

[Saul Whesai]

Sitting all the way in the back, Saul lounged in the corner of the seating, in a simple crimson turtleneck, his usual black leather jacket, and worn-in leather boots. His neon eyes just barely showed through the black felt hat that draped over his face as he attempted to get a few quick winks before the wedding music started.

Saul was only really focused on two people for now, Liin Terallo and Judah Dashiell . The two were chattering on, thick as thieves. The Cyborg was half tempted to go and sit with them, but he knew he couldn't exactly add to their conversation. At least not at the rate they were talking anyway. And so he leaned back in his seat with his feet hooked into the chair in front of him, content to stay like this till the wedding march started. His only hope for this event is that he could dance with Liin again once the sun started to set.

In view of: Liin Terallo , Judah Dashiell
Tag: @Open

 

[Viari Banu]

Wedding​

Zaytee​

​

Drawn to her side, the young Rishii raised a wing, trying brush her fidgeting hand down from the hair it entertained itself with. A low coo, almost like a purr radiated from his throat as he replied, "Of course, friend-Zaytee brings a spring beauty."​

​

Unfamiliar with this courtship ritual, Viari had spent a couple of weeks studying. In the end, he opted for something simple and complimentary to Zaytee's design and his usual solitary attire of a cloak, was replaced with a linen shirt and leaf green tweed vest, floral embroidery added some character to the vest. He couldn't find any trousers he was comfortable with, so opted for a matching tweed kilt allowing him to accommodate his long feather tipped tail.​

​

For extra support he brushed his tail over hers, "Then it will be a story, something more for them to remember." He chirped, leading her and taking a seat at the middle rank. "Has friend-Zaytee been to courts- wedding ceremony before?" He asked, correcting himself.​

​

He sat a winged paw resting on Zaytee's knee, bright eyes scanning across towards the pavillion, and people that were taking their seats around it. His ear-tufts raised and at full attention to the cheerful sounds and conversations taking place around them. It was a nice change of pace, from hunting droids and bucket headed Mandolorians.​

​

Div created by Makeb​

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Judah nodded along. He didn't view marriage as a prison either, just wanted to get the opinion of someone younger. If he had his way he would still be married. Or married again. At his age it definitely was not going to occur. Too much baggage. At this point he was learning to accept it was going to be himself until the end.

At the very least he had his sons and grandchildren to keep him occupied when the business didn't.

"Your honor is my utmost importance today. I will certainly vet any suitor who may walk your way this evening."

Spotting Mister Whesai, Judah lead Liin to sit in the row behind the man. He didn't know anything about their relationship or if they were still friends. The man didn't even wave them down to say hello. Odd in his eyes. Either way, Judah settled into his seat and adjusted his jacket, looking around at the well decorated space.

"I wonder is Maldor is here. Haven't seen him in ages."

Liin Terallo | Saul Whesai​

 

[Aknoby]

The young man was walking around waiting for Iandre to enter with Laphisto and kept his eyes on the people at the party. He was standing near the chairs in the row closest to the altar, but despite his smile, he was vigilant not only for danger but also to make sure that the guests were having a good time while they waited.



He had stopped by the kitchen when he left Iandre with Laphisto and discreetly swallowed a small chocolate truffle, the sweet treat helping to calm his nerves. He glanced quickly in Rellik's direction.

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto was present, though one would not have known it by how far from the center of attention he kept himself. He remained along the outer edge of the celebration, a towering figure wrapped in ancient formal garments rather than armor. The layered fabrics hung heavily from his broad frame, dark and understated, embroidered with subtle patterns of old Kiev'arian lineage. They were the same garments he had worn at Maldor's wedding, the only attire he possessed that felt suited to something sacred rather than strategic.

This was not a Mandalorian ceremony. Tradition demanded restraint. Armor would have been improper. That truth unsettled him more than he expected. Guests approached him throughout the evening with warm smiles and congratulatory tones. Officers clasped his forearm. Civilians bowed their heads slightly in respect. A few friends lingered longer than the rest.

"You must be proud."

"You should be excited."

"You've done well."

He answered each of them politely. He inclined his head. He offered measured gratitude. His composure never faltered. But beneath that calm exterior, something felt misaligned. Pride was there. Deep and immovable. His adopted daughter stood at the center of the ceremony, radiant in a way that had nothing to do with rank or survival. She was choosing her future freely. That alone was a victory greater than most he had fought for.

Yet alongside that pride lingered a quiet displacement. He felt like a soldier who had wandered into a sacred garden still carrying the weight of war in his bones. As though his presence, ancient and scarred and heavy with history, did not quite belong among laughter, music, and vows spoken in tenderness. Too many eyes looked to him for visible celebration. Too many voices expected a public display of joy.

He did not know how to perform that. So, gradually, without drawing attention, he moved toward the open bar. The space was dimmer there, the noise softened by distance. He rested one clawed hand against the polished surface and requested a drink with a quiet nod

Iandre Athlea Aknoby mooney Diarch Rellik 'Sentinel' Janius Everwall

 

[Aknoby]

Aknoby stifled a laugh, seeing Laphisto maintaining his pose but nervous about the situation. He walked over to him and gave the dragon-man a friendly, light tap on the arm.

"Sayr!! I can see you are nervous, but you need to go to Ori vod. I think it will be good for you to talk before the ceremony starts!"

He apologized again, big, bright, full of hope. His hand still on Laphisto's arm, he would obviously drag him away if he said no.

"She needs this moment with you before her life undergoes this big change!"

Laphisto Iandre Athlea

 

[Iandre Athlea]

The murmur of guests carried softly beneath the lantern glow, a collective breath of warm anticipation. Beyond the pavilion, the gentle pull of string music lingered in the air, and the aisle stretched before her, a narrow bridge between the woman she had been and the life she was choosing.

Iandre stood at its threshold.

She did not fidget or pace. Her hands rested lightly before her, fingers loosely interlaced, her posture holding the unmistakable discipline etched into her bones by years of the Order. Even here, she was a pillar of stillness.

This was not a battlefield, yet the weight of the moment felt just as heavy, just as definitive.

Her gaze swept across the gathered faces, officers, civilians, and soldiers, before finally coming to rest on Rellik. He waited at the far end of the aisle, the distance between them short in steps, but infinite in meaning.

The rhythmic thud of approaching footsteps broke her focus. She did not need to turn to recognize the presence. It was ancient and steady, a fortress that had never once shifted under bombardment. But it was accompanied by a more insistent energy.

Iandre glanced up as Aknoby appeared, practically dragging a stoic Laphisto toward the starting line. Her younger half-Chiss brother's determined assistance seemed to be the only thing moving the mountain of a man forward in time for the cue.

There was no grand smile or theatrical emotion from Iandre. Just something quiet and real.

"You were taking too long," she murmured. The faintest hint of dry humor touched her voice, a daughter's tone, not a lieutenant's.

Her eyes softened as she looked at him, acknowledging the small, chaotic escort at his heels. "I was beginning to think you intended to make me walk alone."

She shifted just enough to stand properly at his side. She did not lean on him, nor did she hide behind his shadow. She stood with him. For a moment, she allowed the silence to exist between them, the kind that had been forged in the Force and did not need to be filled.

"You once told me that strength is not proven in war alone," she said, her gaze moving forward again, locking onto Rellik. "Tonight, I would like to believe you were right."

The music shifted. The signal.

Iandre drew in one slow, meditative breath, not out of nervousness but out of total awareness. She offered him her arm, her movement fluid and certain.

"Walk with me, Sayr."

As she stepped forward, the iron-clad rhythm of the soldier fell away. For the first time, she was not marching toward a front line. She was walking toward a choice she had made for herself.

 

[Lord Mettallum]

Lord Mettallum had not been to an organic wedding or any wedding for that fact before. Sure as a priest droid Lord Mettallum may have practiced preforming weddings in secret but that was all via simulations and no way indicative of the real thing. Lord Mettallum had offered to officiate the wedding and to his disappointment his request was declined, Lord Mettallum would have to pray to The Maker for the couple in silence then once the wedding begins.

Outside the estate Lord Mettallum brought a large structure about eight meters tall. What the structure was was hidden underneath its cloth cover. A crew of six droids where busy moving it in place as well as they could without accidentally revealing what was underneath the cover. Lord Mettallum's secretary was busy overseeing the group and constantly had them moving the position of the structure to find that 'perfect' spot.

Lord Mettallum himself entered the estate with a nice shiny new chassis. It would be a great dishonor to not come to this wedding without ensuring he was in tip top shape with not even a mark from the battle of Yaga Minor besmirching his holy frame. Lord Mettallum scanned the pavilion registering every face he saw to memory, he even saw Helix . Wait Helix of all beings was here, the War Marshall of the Sith Order one of the sworn enemies of the Diarchy.

Lord Mettallum knew Helix had no true loyalties to the sith as Lord Mettallum had made some quite favourable deals with Helix in the past but still Lord Mettallum didn't expect Helix to have been invited to the wedding and considering he wasn't even bothering the hide himself then that invitation must have been legitimate.

"War Marshall what a pleasant surprise to see you here. I Lord Mettallum did not expect the Diarch to invite such quality guests." Lord Mettallum would offer his hand out for a handshake. "Are you friends with Lady Athlea or the Diarch being married?"

 

[Liin Terallo]

I caught him before he caught me; perched in the back, a shadow among shadows. His neon eyes were barely visible beneath the black felt hat. Saul. My chest tightened a little, the memory of his over-eager attention flickering through me like static. The leather jacket, the boots, the way he slouched so effortlessly - it was all the same, yet all different too. Time had passed, and I had changed, but he was… still him.

Judah’s voice pulled me back. “I wonder if Maldor is here. Haven’t seen him in ages.”

I glanced around the hall being careful not to linger too long on any one face. “I am unsure of who was invited and who was not,” I replied softly, letting my fingers graze the edge of my chair. A small comfort that grounded me. My eyes swept the entrances and exits again, noting the security tucked into corners and behind the pillars. The last time that I had attended a wedding, an attack had almost ruined everything. I would not be caught off guard again.

I adjusted my posture slightly, leaning just enough to keep the doors in view, and let my gaze flicker back to Saul for the briefest moment before returning to Judah. Better to watch quietly, I had decided, keeping my distance. I had my own priorities tonight, and vigilance was foremost. Still, beneath it all, a faint flicker of curiosity lingered; an ember of a memory that I could not quite snuff out. And yet… Judah. His calm presence beside me, the quiet steadiness in his voice, offered a strange sort of reassurance, much like my Father did. I could let my guard be a little lighter here, at least in his company; even if only for a few moments. My senses stayed tuned, a subtle pulse in the back of my mind, ready for anything; but with him, the edges felt just a little bit softer.

Tags: Judah Dashiell Saul Whesai

 

[Saul Whesai]

As the pair came over to sit down behind him, Saul would silently smile and wave at them as they sat down. He wasn't trying to be unfriendly when he didn't come over to say hello, but he didn't want to interrupt the conversation. Besides, all the talk about romance... it was hard to talk about it when your crush was standing right there, even if she denied the Cyborg's romantic intentions. She talked about making a story with someone, and yet she never seriously considered writing a first page. Still, she was probably too focused on the big picture of her life to be focused on such a little detail like him. Still, the little moments he did get were more than enough for him.

"Well, Old Man, guess I'll have to go through for my dance then." The teasing grin on his face as he tilted his chair back up on four legs to give his two friends (Did Judah count as a friend?) space to sit, even though Judah could tell it was a little bittersweet if he looked hard enough. The hurting of Saul's heart ran deep, even if it didn't show through his rough exterior. "And what did you expect? They have got nearly every government offical here. If the men and women in metal pants showed up, we would be pretty vulnerable..." Saul had been lucky to stay out of the major engagements so far, only taking on skirmishes or holding off Mando raids. As much as the government wanted to save otherwise, the Mando Warriors were cutting deep. Part of this big show was to reassure everyone that everything was still alright. That would probably be the hardest task the new couple had ever taken on.

Slipping his hands into his jacket, he touched the long needles stored inside his jacket. Despite all of the security, they still let things slip by right under their noses. Besides, he could always say they were for Liin's hair. By now, Saul had enough practice to have a decent grasp of his abilities. Enough that these little pins could have quite the punch if used correctly. Here's to hoping he wouldn't need to. "Lets just sit back and enjoy the show, especially the free food and drink. And Liin... try to let your hair down some. It looks nice when it's flowing in the wind." Hell, the rest of her looked nice too, but she probably would come unwound again if he told her that in front of Judah. And that would be unacceptable. He couldn't help but think: We couldn't let anyone see the weaknesses that you hide so well. Guess I should be honored that I get to see them every day. Or that she had let his crazy ass come to a thing like this. Saul disgracing her would be a disaster, and yet, the Cyborg would have to dance with that possibility to get what he wanted, Liin's hand.

Judah Dashiell , Liin Terallo

 

[Helix]

Helix turned at the sound of that familiar voice, to see the expected sight of the towering droid priest he'd met before.

"Lord Metallum." Helix said jovially, taking the offered hand and shaking it with every sign of being pleased to see him. "Wonderful. I'd begun to worry this would be a dull affair."

I Lord Mettallum did not expect the Diarch to invite such quality guests.

"I can't say I expected the invitation either, but I so rarely get social calls these days." It was true. The Sith's expansive efforts and conflicts with the self-proclaimed High Republic had kept him more than busy. Occasionally, it was nice to get out and see how the wider galaxy lived. Perspective was a hard thing to find in Sith space, and all the more valuable for it.

"Oh, the Diarch and I have met once or twice." He responded to the priest's query. "Albeit only once off the battlefield. Apparently I made a good impression. Not often I get invited to something by opposing generals, but it's a strange galaxy we live in."

He studied the larger machine for a moment. After a mutually-lucrative bargain some time ago, he'd been funneling steady shipments of his anomalous metals into the droid-priest's coffers. Lord Mettallum was an unusual creature, but mostly a pleasant enough one to interact with, and a tremendously valuable business partner besides. More than that, it was rare to see another survivor from the old days. Very rare.

Thus, he was inclined towards friendliness where the other droid was concerned. "I can't say I'm acquainted with the bride, or really with anyone else here save yourself. Still, it's good to see a familiar face."

 

[Ra'a'mah]

Ra felt the subtle shift in the air long before she visually tracked it. Trident Company had woven itself into the estate's corners with professional precision. It did not disrupt the evening. It stabilized it.

She approved.

Seated beside Vulpesen, she had a composed rather than rigid posture, hands resting lightly in her lap as lanternlight brushed against the deep twilight hue of her gown. The music drifted softly over the lawn. Conversation murmured and then hushed in waves.

"Discreet," she said quietly, her voice pitched for him alone. "Well executed. No spectacle."

Her golden eyes shifted briefly toward one of the pavilion's edges before returning forward.

When he spoke of the Diarchs, she inclined her head slightly in agreement.

"Yes. They appreciate refinement, but only when it serves something." Her gaze lingered on the white arch beneath the open sky. "They would never confuse ornament with meaning."

At his compliment, warmth touched her expression in a way that was neither coy nor guarded. Simply sincere.

"Thank you," she replied softly. "And you look… appropriately restrained. It suits you."

A faint trace of humor brightened her eyes.

As he let his awareness drift over the guests, she did the same, though without reaching too far. She felt the currents in the room. Familiar strengths. Controlled shadows. Nothing volatile. Nothing is pushing forward.

She leaned back slightly in her seat.

"Whatever else any of us carry," she murmured, "it is contained."

Her gaze settled again on the aisle.

"This is their moment."

Her fingers brushed lightly against his sleeve, steady and grounding.

"For tonight," she added quietly, "that is enough."

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

A quiet hum of contentment left Vulpesen as he settled into his seat, his tail flicking to and fro behind him. People from all over the galaxy seemed to be gathering here among the men and women of the Diarchy something that was to be expected when one of its leaders was being married. Too often, Vulpesen had been a witness to tragedy and hardship. now, offered the chance at a moment of beauty, he found himself more than pleased. He simply prayed that the force would allow such peace to last, at least, for the two that had set this all up to secure it for themselves.

"Everything's lookin' good, boss! No bucket heads! Plenty of red glow sticks, I think, but they're all on their best behaivour. Drinks also aren't poisoned. I did a thorough check, though if you insist, I'm sure I can sacrifice more of my time for a proper vetting." Vulpesen's contented hum turned into a quiet sigh and his eyes scanned around for a drink. Corranthus Garlan. A friend, colonel, and the head of his security forces. He was also one of the most incorrigible men he had ever met.

"Thank you, Garlan. Find a post somewhere quiet. And lay off the refreshments. They're not for the security they're for the guests... like me." For a moment, Vulpesen was met by a look as if he'd just kicked a puppy. Then, with a finger to his nose and a point at his "boss," Garlan was off, practically skipping off to leave the Valde with the woman he was escorting. "Sometimes... I miss Harlow. Man knows how to keep quiet and level at functions like this."

Ra'a'mah

 

[Zaytee]

At the Rishii's words, a light blush appeared on Zaytee's face, and she quickly tried fixing her flowercrown one more time before following him into the rows of seats, coiling her tail around one of the legs of her chair while she looked around curiously, only listening to his next question with half ear.

"Hm...?" She glanced at Viari, only understanding his words a second later. "Oh, well... The tribes that live in the swamps don't really celebrate finding a mate this openly... We usually just noticed when they started making their own dwellings together. Families always share a home, and when the kids choose to leave it, they either make their own alone, or pair up with others. Then when they find a mate, they make a new one together. Courting is..." She scratched the back of her head with confusion. "I don't really know that... It may vary based on each tribes, but all of us love little trinkets, so giving those to each other is mostly part of it. Some shows their hunting ability, others their various abilities and talents."

Zayte shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, but a slight shade of embarrassment still showed itself on her face for a moment.

"Truth be told, I was too busy taking care of all the hatchlings to care about courtship. Those little ones were a handful, you look away for a second and they crawl into some predator's mouth." She chuckled quietly. "And you? Do birds like you show a little mating dance?"

Viari Banu