Which Fork!? (Sith Assassins)

[Judah Lesan]

Xander Blackmoore, rightful King of the Induparan Crown worlds had promised a class in etiquette. There were times assassins had to blend in with various cultures and societies. Some them were of a noble background and required certain types of behaviors to do so. Xander could provide unique and expert insight into that world, and those who sought to infiltrate that world would find no better teacher.

A dining table was set to introduce his students to the world of fine dining. There were so many utensils and glasses that Xander knew they would be overwhelmed. They would eat, and eat well, this night as they learned how to blend at a dinner party. Banquets were often held with the most influential of nobles, and several methods could be employed to assassinate a target during one. If one knew all the proper rules, one could see the various options available to them. This is what Xander aimed to offer them.

Invitations were sent, formally handwritten, and delivered by a personal courier. The time was set, the wardrobe formal. It was time to see who had paid attention to the invite, and who would fall flat at the first opportunity given.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Saiah may well be the antithesis of the host when it came to background and etiquette. She had taken to join the class first and foremost to better go under-cover, to observe and understand the workings of a 'civilized' target . However, she had not anticipated the sheer pomp involved in learning. She had imagined it more like learning to dance, but this went straight for the recital with no prior rehearsal. While Rattataki had their own upper classes with their own codes of conduct and etiquette, Saiah had never been part of it; She was born the daughter of a whore after all. She smirked with the irony as she dressed in loaned clothes. Compared to her own, far breezier outfits, these were itchy, hot and somewhat constricting. Looking at her reflection after, she had to restrain herself not to burst out laughing at the absurdity. Yet, she admittedly looked presentable.

At the time set, she showed up. Her invitation in a gloved hand and her long, slender self draped in a dress of fitted cloth, adorned with intricate patterns in shades of black, around her neck was a thin gold chain ending in a medallion, or was it perhaps a coin? One could not discern at a glance. It was a coin, Saiah knew. Her bloody, lucky coin. A light, round, golden disk with the imprint of a skull. She had eventually become accustomed to the restrictions, heat and itchiness of the dress, finding what movements she could and could not do in advance. She never knew if this class in social etiquette for the purpose of assassination would in fact turn into an assassination, in which case she was now prepared.

She strode into the room and saw the lavish decorations and the table which to her immediately appeared as a chaotic mess of mismatched utensils. She thought to herself if I knew there would be this many knives, I wouldn't have bothered bringing one in my skirts. Unsure where to sit, she observed the others, aiming her eyes at whoever looked the more comfortable. Simultaneously she looked for their host. Again, she felt silly in her outfit, but she kept a frosty expression, sharp eye and upright posture.