«12. . .800801802803804805806. . .824825»
Home For The Holidays
Nowhere, [REDACTED]’s Wilds
[REDACTED], [REDACTED] System
5180 AD
Grand Admiral Natalia Cross casually floats into the master bedroom of a rustic cabin. On the bed sits her husband, Emperor Jaxson Danvers, who is staring off into the void, in deep thought. She waves a hand in front of his face, attempting to bring him back to the here and now, when that doesn't work she speaks up.
”Hey, hon, what's on your mind?”
Jaxson startles at her voice before chuckling at his reaction.
”I was just thinking, mainly about June, we haven't seen her in person in four years. I mean, we've missed two thirds of her life so far!”
”It's for the best, Jaxson, you know it, I know it, we can't bring her to the Empire while slavery still stands, and we can't leave her here to fend for herself.”
”Nat, she's six, almost seven! We won't get these years back!”
”You're right, we won't, but we'll still have decades to spend time with her, and she loves spending time with her ‘Uncle.’ Let's not fight, it's Christmas Eve, we talked to her earlier, she got our gifts and got to open a few, we'll call her again and spend Christmas Morning with her, just lay down, it'll be okay.”
She gives him a peck on the lips as she lightly pushes him back, and he lets himself fall back on the bed, and she floats above him and the bed before stopping her powers and dropping down onto him, causing him to let out an oof and a chuckle at his wife's antics.
”I think you bruised a rib.”
”You still have those? I'm surprised, you've been blown up enough that I suspected you to have no bones.”
”Fine, I misspoke, I think you just bumped a rib fragment from that body bomb back when you were pregnant with June.”
She flicks him softly on the nose and he lets out a little ow.
”I'm just kidding, I know they got all those pieces out, I checked with my x-ray vision, remember?”
”Yeah, I do.”
He wraps an arm around her, snuggling her closer to him as he traces a tattoo on her shoulder while zoning out again. She just watches him for a few moments before speaking up again.
”If you keep zoning out I'm going to start using a spray bottle on you.”
”Sorry Darling, I was just thinking again, I don't think we've danced together since we came back to the empire.”
”Does that mean you want to dance?”
”Yes, it does.”
She gives him a quick kiss before rolling out of bed and starting to float in the air. He gets out of bed and they make their way to the kitchen, where they turn on a music system that looks like an old radio and a song starts playing.
https://youtu.be/VkbvUjbHcGE?si=VnQq878TxlOt8l-a
The couple join hands and begin to do the waltz in their kitchen, for once looking their age as they dance to the radio in their kitchen, wearing old, comfortable clothes, looking into each other's eyes with love and smiling goofily at one another. The pair get caught up in their dancing, the music system playing the song on repeat as they dance away, forgetting about their worries for a while, simply dancing with the one they love, their bestfriend, their confidant, their soulmate. The pair get lost in their dance, adding more complex moves the longer they dance, at a point Natalia floats above the ground as Jaxson spins her, at another she uses her powers to maintain a spin in the air after being thrown, they dance in a trance they haven't been in since their Wedding years ago. Jaxson dips her and gives her a kiss, when she is standing again, they simply hold each other close and slowly spin in place, after a few turns Natalia notices the time.
”Love, it's Christmas.”
”Merry Christmas, Darling.”
Jaxson says as he kisses her.
”Merry Christmas, Love.”
She replies through the kiss.
Here's something nice and fluffy that came to me earlier today.
CHAINS OF GREED || 
New Saharia, 
DOLOS AEC
~
The Opulence was as it was always, the war affecting little on the deposition of those aboard. From the roar of archaic jazz and clinking of liquor glasses, to the solace of her observatories and parks. But it wasn’t these pleasures that brought Ellecon and Eithan aboard.
As Eithan exchanged words with Ellecon, a voice suddenly aroused behind him.
“You ready for another night of carousing, old friend?”
Of course, he already knew who it was. And as the foreigner turned around, there was the man of the hour. Dressed in black morning suit with his matching felt top hat. His trademark cane was hanging by his arm as he lit a cigarette with a genuine smile.
“Well? Shall we?”
His smile turned into a cocky grin full of warmth. Full of genuine happiness like no other. Ellecon’s arrival was timed rather perfectly, or as close to perfect as one can get, with their table already set and security tightened. The prospects of discussing all sorts of non-political wholesome talk which was - quite frankly - refreshing to Eithan for once. Especially due to the topic of their meeting. And as the Vulpine turned to greet Ellecon, the stranger took off his hat to give the Executor a bow.
“Ah! Hello, hello! Howard Lotor. Founder and Chief Executive Officer of the Halcyon Holdings Corporation. Please, by all means, call me Howie.”
Eyeing the stranger up and down, beyond his black suit, he wore a burgundy colored double-breasted vest with a black cravat tie. His cane’s handle was of a brass eagle’s head with a hefty weight to its construction - though Ellecon can only assume at an eye’s glance. A light silver fur colored fox, his eyes were that of a tinted emerald green.
.
.
.
Ellecon and Eithan were finally led to their table which was within the VIP section of the Regal Americana. Conveniently emptied in advance, the section allowed a grand view of the nuclear detonations outside. Some things never change. From cascading chandeliers to plush leather seats, more of the same. But at least it was private. Guards were posted outside the chamber's double doors and the Executor's eagle eye could tell that there was more going on behind the scenes.
"Frederick! A bottle of bourbon, to start the night please!"
Howard had already expertly tossed his hat, rather impressively actually, at the nearby coat rack whilst yelling at some far away waiter cleaning one of the tables. Frederick gave a smile and a nod back in confirmation. With a swift turn, their Vulpine host gestured for them to sit as he was taking off his jacket.
"Take a seat, take a seat! The Regal Americana has a great selection. Have faith, you won't leave her disappointed."
The menu consisted of a variety of American classics. Steaks, mashed potatoes, apple pie, what more could you ask for? Despite it's high dining experience, the spread was of relatively restrained. Lacking ostentation or exclusiveness one would associate to such a place. But, perhaps because of that, the menu is palatable for everyone.
New Saharia and DOLOS AEC
Chains of Greed || 
VIXXEN International || New Saharia
~
He'd come face to face with quite the tired individual. Not that Eithan would have ever let it show; though the slight bags under his eyes barely hidden by a quick application of ether said otherwise. With a jovial expression etched and carved onto his face, DOLOS AEC's new Chairman would respond to Ellecon's opening statement.
What a man.
Unlike Eithan's more casual attire, the Executor seemed to have appeared in a more formal... and more importantly, more functional piece of wear. Not that Twilight Service gear wasn't useful too, but it looked like he was trying to make a statement. Or perhaps he wanted a better first impression of himself, the confident man that he was. You had to be confident to deal with the Saharian Republic and all its politics.
The Novoteh grimaced quietly.
"Impressive, yes. Opulent, yes. The sheer amount of power and upkeep required to maintain such a monolith..." Eithan started. "And yet, it fulfils no other function than as a bastion of wealth. I think it's a marvel of engineering. Either that, or it's just a bunch of systems slapped onto each other. Everything else points to the former, though."
Though I've seen better, went left unsaid. The Coalition's weapons of war were impressive, but also relics of a bygone time.
Hearing a sharp voice, Eithan turned around to meet... him. Lotor. What a familiar face.
"Lead the way, then."
Happy Holiday Wishes (New Saharia)
A cheerful Jaxson Danvers sits down at his desk a little past two in the aftermath on Christmas Day at his home on [REDACTED], and decides to call Executor Ellecon of the Saharian Republic.
Chains of Greed || VIXXEN International DOLOS AEC
“Well, pleased to meet you, Howie,” Ellecon said with an elated tone. It was genuine, too - simply not having to deal with Blackthorne personally put him in a good mood. He still knew that it was all just pleasantries and it was all too likely Howie hated Ellecon just as much as his boss did. He gave a bow of his own in return as he spoke…
---
Ellecon seemed to… change somehow, once he got settled in. As if someone flicked a switch. He took off his cape, swiftly folding it neatly and draping it over his chair before he took his seat. The same was done with his hat, which he removed politely and attached to the back of his armor, just below the neckline. His relaxed posture and expression solidified; he sat straight up, reaching for the handkerchief which he draped over his legs. He dared not put his elbows on the table.
“It has been… some time since I’ve enjoyed a meal at a proper restaurant,” he quipped. “I’m excited for this,” he said, just as a reminder of why he was here made it to the forefront of his mind just in time to soil a bit of his excitement. After looking through the menu for just a second, something had already caught his eye…
Chains of Greed || VIXXEN International || New Saharia
~
Eithan didn't change one bit. Whilst he had enough training to keep that smile on his face, it would only be a matter of time before things began to... slip.
He didn't bother with taking off the Service uniform and garb. As far as DOLOS AEC's Chairman was concerned, it was completely fine to wear - perhaps the others would think less of him, but he didn't quite believe so. This was how he operated. With not much formal training on how to handle actual events like this, he was left at the mercy of what he thought should be done; what he thought to be polite. So with a flourish, Eithan began... doing nothing.
Scanning through the menu, he settled on a less expensive set option. Every markdit counts, or at least that's what the vat-instructors had taught him.
"Likewise."
Though Eithan was far more casual, it was... almost practised. Rehearsed. Disarming. That was only partially the case; those of the United Coalition were usually a lot less willing to put up with formalities, let alone engage in them.
Happy Holiday Wishes || 
Vorgon System
Today was an extremely slow day. It seemed like everyone except Ellecon knew why. Just as the Executor put his feet up on the desk, he was snapped out of his daydreaming by an incoming message. From the Vorgonian Emperor. There was no doubt in Ellecon’s mind that it was news of the ongoing liberation…
He took little effort in tidying himself before patching him through. “--Hello, Emperor. What brings you to me today? Can I do something for you?--”
Happy Holiday Wishes (New Saharia)
As the Executor accepted the call, he would be able to notice three things, 1, the Emperor was in what looked like the office of a frontier cabin from old earth, 2, the Emperor wasn't dressed formally at all, wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants, and 3, there were at least a dozen tattoos on the Emperor that the Executor could see that had not been there as far as he could tell the last time he saw him.
”--Greetings and Merry Christmas, Executor Ellecon, I was wondering what you would like for Christmas?--”
"Our scientists and engineers have studied the vessels, and made their own changes to them, besides... they're only to be used as a sort of emergency warship." Karn explained. "We haven't had any encounters with any of the warlords in this area of space fortunately, seems like somebody else got to them first, and left behind the wrecks and ruins."
A smaller Alphox would enter the room, different and sharper in appearance to the others. A Vel'othi-Alphox, who was wearing a sharp naval uniform of utilitarian design. He gave the two siblings a nod, eyes narrowing a little as he flashed a data tablet.
"Yes, yes. I believe here is a good time to conclude the talks for now. Anything else you would like to add or propose before we all go?" Cyvi leaned in, swaying her hand before placing it onto the table. Karn himself looked somewhat pressed, if not impatient, looking towards the Vel'othi admiral, dismissing him with a tilt of the head.
Happy Holiday Wishes || Vorgon System
“--Uh,--” was all he could say at first, as he looked to the side. A mixture of shock and realization that it was, indeed, that time again. “--I, uh, you don’t need to worry about that sort of thing for me. I’m doing fine; I appreciate you giving me a call, though.--”
It was just another thing that he was blissfully unaware of. From this high up, the lights of Edekar still looked the same as they always did…
Happy Holiday Wishes New Saharia
As President Night Watch was sitting at her desk while everypony around her was celebrating their Hearth' Warming but, she did not really have anyone to really spend time with family wise as her friends were busy with their own families so she decided maybe just maybe she should give Executor Ellecon a call. While she was in her normal house on New Hollow Shade which is quite decorated for Hearth's Warming however the President herself was not dressed formerly at all as she was wearing stripped red and white socks and a stripped red and white scarf.
Flausendei Second
~~~
Sitting at the window in front of the ship, Admiral looked out to the stars. With a hiss and an unclasp, they removed their helmet, setting it on their leg. Lifting up the one piece of candy she was given, Del ate it. Savoring the flavor she knew so rarely. Looking at the vast emptiness, she sighed.
~~~
Asleep at her desk, someone slowly set down a glass of water, some coffee, and a small bag. Closing the door and ensuring the light was out, Valentine was left to sleep.
~~~
Sat at the table, Grayning rubbed his chin and looked out amongst the cards. He got one more card, and once again, he was out. Donating his salary to his friends in the same way he always did.
~~~
Collins laid on the hood of her car. Staring into the stars above, a sight rarely seen. Smiling, and thinking back, she pushed off the vehicle and walked inside, ready to continue her assistance to the Animalians.
~~~
A marriage license was filled, some wet socks were thrown on the couch, and hooves slipped on tile.
~~~
Staring out into the dark chamber, Fena smiled. A genuine smile, for the first time in so long.
~~~
Wide awake, Lamira sat on her tail and looked over the prototype. Jason waved his goodbyes, and left her alone in the building.
~~~
Netser, well. She wasn't even aware it was a holiday.
Fires of Ambition
The Galactic board is set. With the confirmation of forces being volunteered to aid the Solarian Union, the Confederacy has once more expanded its reach beyond its borders. Far beyond the reach of Breen, to the east of the once resistant Zuleti Territories, the Breen have gone about creating a string of stations to maintain the connection between them and Solaria. Stradling the border between The Core and The Empty, the stations maintain trade and military relations, allowing for the coordination of military assets and deployments. To facilitate this, a new more covert campaign is underway to colonize these few worlds in the easterly arm. Already, Ukquare Cubes and Urath Haulers have deployed across the selected planets, and candidate planets have been selected for terraforming and extraction points for materials.
Within the Confederacy, still behind the official borders of the current regime, The Client races have been deployed, many given new worlds on which to spread their ilk so they may serve the confederacy with even more for their numbers. The smaller species in the way, the ones still bound to their planets within the Confederacy that the Central Council has seen fit to ignore till now, have either been brought into the fold or had their militaries burned in the fires of ambition, their civilians then made to sign the Articles of Confederation. Already new ships are being built to protect this most addition to internal Breen control, a whole new fleet and then some, ready to serve in the will of the Domo.
+750 Systems
Happy Holiday Wishes || 
FreeAmericanStates
Truth be told, the Executor rarely actually knew what to do when he had free time on his hands. It had become so criminally rare for him recently that, when he actually didn’t have anything to be tending to, he simply… lazed about. Even then, it wasn’t something he could do very long with a clear conscience. No doubt much of his staff weren’t at work to bug him.
Just an hour after the Vorgonian Emperor had contacted him, he received yet another comm-link to yet another world leader. This time, President Nightwatch of the Thestral Union. Even still, Ellecon was reasonably sure it had nothing to do with the holidays. The situation outside Saharia was changing rapidly day by day; no doubt she had news. Probably bad.
He patched her through. “--Greetings, Madam President. What can I do for you?--” Ellecon was notably wearing a new set of armor. It was less bulky than his old set, made of an exotic alloy painted a deep, barely reflective black. Ellecon noticed she was dressed less-than-formal; he didn't mind. If anything, it proved him wrong. She was probably contacting him on holiday business.
Thief's Honor || New Saharia
"Along those lines. I was thinking about developing relations further than-" He's cut off by someone rushing by, and running directly into Ellecon with enough force to knock them both down as the stack of papers he was carrying went everywhere. Immediately he profusely apologized as Jack helped pick up what was dropped, though glaring at the newcomer the whole while. the newcomer quickly explained that he was extremely late for his own meeting and left immediately after his papers were gathered.
After he left, Jack sighed and looked to Ellecon. "You alright? Looked quite rough."
Happy Holiday Wishes
She had noticed the Executor's new armor and thought it looked spiffy on him. Thinking it might have been a gift he got she had just smiled glad that he at least got a gift from someone before so her gift that will arrive any moment now should be good.
"Ohh nothing much, I just wanted to give you a call and wish you a Happy Hearth's Warming. I also had sent you a little present"
A knock was just heard from outside the door of the room the Executor was in.
A voice went out that was quite booming from the other side of the door to the Executor.
"Sir, you have a delivery there it was scanned and it appears to be safe for you to open."
2
“In some ways we are a remnant. We were vanished from the Empire to live as a diaspora long before it’s collapse. You however seem different, are you a remnant too? Your technology is incompatible with any known forms of technology we posses.”
Happy Holiday Wishes (New Saharia)
”--Nonsense, Executor! You do a lot for your people and have done more than you ever should have for mine. You deserve a present and some yuletide cheer! So tell me, what do you want for Christmas?--”
Vorgon’s Most Wanted (New Saharia)
The Saharian heavy fire splashes down on the Heavy Cruisers shields and punctures through in some places causing severe damages to their armor and hull. The Heavy Cruisers respond accordingly, and begin targeting the Viskova Battlecruisers and the Sern Starhold. Three of the Heavy Cruisers focus the Starhold, and begin unleashing their long range armaments upon it, focusing even more of their batteries on it as well as launching Concussion Missiles at it. The other four Heavy Cruisers follow suit, evenly splitting their fire between the two Saharian Battlecruisers.
The Heavy Frigates form their own battle line, firing on the Saharian Battlecarriers, Heavy Cruisers, and Light Cruisers. While the Light Cruisers enter range with their rush and throw whatever armament they have at the Saharian ships, seemingly subscribing to the “everything but the kitchen sink” style of warfare.
Vorgonian Reinforcements will arrive in:
Four Posts
Project Cold-Fire {{ META }}
Project Cold-Fire, hidden in orbit above the desolate surfaces of the uninhabited planet HX-449, and veiled by the nebulous expanse of the Badlands, stands as an initiative with a singular purpose—to forge a weapon of unprecedented capabilities. The core objective of this project revolves around the development of more powerful gravimetric technology capable of projecting gravity wells on an extraordinary scale. This concept draws inspiration from the intricate gravity manipulation observed in Breen void-ships and the role played by gravity tech in the functionality of Warp Drive technology.
As Project Cold-Fire undergoes rigorous testing, initial results have unveiled remarkable potential. Breen Scientists have demonstrated the ability to amplify gravitational forces within and nearby to small and large stellar objects alike, enabling the augmentation of planetary and stellar densities. This newfound capability raises intriguing possibilities, including the manipulation of stellar activities, the controlled cavitation of planetary surfaces, and the deployment of the technology as a zone-denial weapon in void-combat.
While the full extent of its applications is yet to be realized, the Breen are very much confident that it will soon be fully operational.
Operation Smash and Grab: Anaphase || 
The Breen || 
A Perfect Neighborhood || 
New-Order2
~
This war... This war is not just for our right to exist, but to show that we Orellians are strong! This is no war without reason, no unprovoked bid for dominance. It is glory in its most pure and eternal form; those who die will be inducted into the halls of our history. For Orellia! For the United Coalition! For the Eternal Flame!
~
ORELLIAN COALITION PRE-ACTION REPORT
OPERATION SMASH AND GRAB - PHASE 2 - ANAPHASE
-This operation's goal is to smash the Breen's Pearl Worlds, denying them income from VIXXEN International.
-Change of plans. VIXXEN International will not be attacked on the orders of Secret Hierarch Eithan. All forces on the VIXXEN border will be diverted to the Breen Confederacy.
-Strike fast, strike hard, strike in force. Raze it to the ground.
-If possible, eliminate all life signatures. Planet cracking weapons are [AUTHORIZED]. Only deploy if strictly necessary.
-Reawaken Siege Worlds within Breen territory. They have missed many upon their conquering of our ancestral space, not bothering to colonize planets which appear to be dead.
FOR THE UNITED COALITION, AT ALL COSTS
STRENGTH OVER ALL
~
The Breen Confederacy would not notice the massive buildup of forces within Blacksites and LGN-1s. Border patrols went on as normal, the Orellian surveillance network remained intact and focused on the Confederacy, and... Signals were sent out to sleeper cells within.
When they had taken all of that space that once belonged to the United Coalition, they had missed... many things. Siege Worlds. Planets thought to be dead and useless housed populations of billions, hidden underneath kilometres of rock. Humans in cyrostasis began to wake one by one, ceremoniously pushed out of stasis wards as they got to their feet rather groggily. Factories hummed to life once again, and entire planets received their orders to go to war. Their ships hailed back to the Coalition's heyday - which were far more advanced than the beleaguered factories of Orellia could push out nowadays.
But above all else, their commands were to stay hidden for a massive coordinated attack. Ships were to be repaired, and in time everything would be reclaimed. The Siege Worlds could quickly be converted into defensive lines, so all Orellia needed to do was wait for things to be prepared.
~
That was months ago.
Now, they were ready. When the time was right, they would strike.
As the order to initiate Smash and Grab travelled down the ranks, a massive assault would begin on the Breen Confederacy. No expense was spared to make sure that this was a success - and better yet, this coincided with their expansion. Of course, the Confederacy wouldn't be caught completely unawares. But the sheer tide of Orellian vessels would undoubtedly be too much for the Breen to handle; they were spread too thin, the fools. And they had placed their precious Pearl Worlds right in the Orellian warpath.
Superdreadnoughts would be sent. Planet crackers would be marshalled. Superweapons would be collected in numbers not seen since the United Coalition's birth, during the first few weeks of Glass and Glory. Orellia planned to imitate that smashing success - to make the Confederacy cower as the Compact of Species once had. The (A Perfect Neighborhood) Agency would be asked to assist with this, though foreign help would not be strictly necessary.
Stealth craft and strike craft targeted important shipping lanes for the Breen, especially within old United Coalition space. Trade would be disrupted, cargo vessels interdicted and scavenged... and worse of all?
The United Coalition's sleeper planets would all activate at once. Planets thought to be worthless housed hundreds of thousands of ships that the galaxy had never seen, let alone had to contend with; during the Universal Empire's reign, the Coalition was too busy with infighting to ever turn their narrow views outside of their sector of space. Now, these ships had a different purpose - to bombard the Breen Confederacy's north into complete submission. Surrender was acceptable, if barely, and vessels would prevent the Breen Confederacy from ever leaving their planets.
If there were dissidents amongst the Breen, then if they contacted the Coalition, they would be granted safe haven within a specially-prepared blacksite. Orellia was merciful to those who fought against their enemy.
So what if there were humans amongst them? They would be struck down just the same via a hail of orbital bombardment. Planets closer to the Confederacy's core were abandoned by these sleeper cells as the Orellian forces, United Coalition siegeworld armada, and even a few Lost Fleets mercenaries converged on a pincer attack to obliterate the Breen's fleets. Space would be taken, defenses set up, and a stalwart line ready for the Breen to break themselves on.
Let the Coaliion's forces lay broken in the void?
No.
It is the Breen who will be broken.
~
250,000 vessels of unknown class.
2 Sol-class Chariots.
2 Apogee-class Chariots.
1 System Block Dismantler.
150,000 vessels of unknown class, hailing from the United Coalition of Nations' heyday.
1 Seraphim-class Chariot.
1 Hekate-class PDV.
2 Schloss-class Capitals.
20,000 vessels of unknown class.
1 Hive-class Mobile Fortress.
CHAINS OF GREED || DOLOS AEC, New Saharia
~
With a mild chuckle in agreement, their Vulpine friend nods along before giving a thorough inspection of the menu himself. Most likely out of politeness than actual searching. It wasn’t long before Frederick the waiter returned to present a grand bottle of bourbon. Eithan was intimately familiar with its brand, due to him and Howard getting quite absolutely smashed with it, and enough to make the corporate executive to gag remembering its taste. Lotor described it once before, slurring his words in the process but enough for Eithan to remember most of it. King Louis - pronounced like the French monarch - had a rich, decadent taste. Smokey, with hints of Vulperian River Oak and deep caramel notes.
Once their orders were taken with surprising efficiency - once spoken, once written - the waiter gave them a bow before embarking away and towards the kitchen. Their Vulpine representative wasted no time before popping the cork and pouring the trio a few glasses of bourbon on the rocks. Paying close attention to pour first for Eithan, then Ellecon, then last for himself.
But it didn’t take long before their silent waiting was interrupted by more small talk. Although awkward at first, Howard’s colorful deposition eased their uncertainty: “Any of you fine gentlemen box?”
Lotor further emphasized his question by putting up his fists and throwing a few short punches, “Though I don’t look like it, I was a speed demon back in the day! Ah, nothing like the heat of the ring that’s for damn sure. Philip and I used to frequent a gym too. Never seen anyone - well, if I am being truthful, felt - punch harder than him! Hell, I never thought the young master would knock me clean like that.”
The Vulpine gave a happy chuckle as he reminisced about his past. Even feeling the fur around his wrists, nodding in quiet pride.
“You’d be surprised, a fight in the ring is nothing like a fight on the street - there are rules, regulations you have to follow. Can’t train, fight, or even breathe without checking all of them. Unless you’re bare-knuckle boxing.”
With this, Howard bellows out another laugh.
Chains of Greed || VIXXEN International || New Saharia
~
Eithan inspected the bottle with recognition glimmering in his eyes, a slight snigger appearing before he clamped down on the impulsive action - the sound dying in his throat as it was cut short. Citizens of the United Coalition were... not very tolerant towards alcohol. "Not very tolerant," of course, being an understatement. A few glasses of basically anything would leave Eithan wiped out, unable to do much more than speak in slurred speech.
So, with a careless hand, the Menocht-born Eithan scooped up the wineglass - giving a polite sip before setting it back down. He was not going to touch that for the rest of the evening, no sir. Off-limits. Whilst he was almost friendly in his disposition, he also realized that being drunk was a decidedly terrible first impression.
"Box?"
Howard's question raised an eyebrow. He didn't box, though he was trained to be a fine etherforger from a young age. He had learnt lots; swordsmanship, fencing, hand-to-hand, and even an old Earth combat style known by the name of Wing Chun (詠春). That was before Vanir had found him and took him in, though Eithan had never stopped practising.
Running DOLOS AEC took too much of his free time, however, and each day he enjoyed himself less and less.
"I... No, I don't box. But I can fight well, very well. You're looking at a five-time champion of the United Coalition's yearly etherforging-tournament. To first blood, or to death."
That last word was pronounced as if it were a joke. It wasn't.
"That was, err, less said about it the better," Eithan said sheepishly. "Safe to say, the Coalition wasn't a very good place even before its collapse. That's a long time ago though."
SIDESTORIES: ALL THAT GLITTERS || 
The Aurelian Empire
~
Korshal made himself comfortable within his booth as the train moved at astonishing speeds past the snow-covered countryside. Fiddling with his surroundings as he waited for his meal to come. The Aurelian managed to discover a few things that would make his trip more comfortable on the train. The tablet was removable from its wall mount and could be used to manipulate basically everything inside his booth: temperature, lights, and window opacity were the basics. The real game changer was that he could change his seat into a proper pull-out bed, flip the other set of seats into a functioning table, and even a fully functioning television. Though his rumination of possible combinations was cut short by a knock on the door.
A middle aged Vulpine entered the door alongside a cart full to the brim with luxuries. His ticket meant that, if he so wished, he could indulge in a variety of liquors, smokes, candies, and all sorts of snacks. Free of charge, depending on his ticket’s class. A silver domed dish was set on top of the cart with matching silverware alongside a carafe of ice cold water. A champagne bucket was also next to it.
“Good evening, sir. Thank you for your patronage.”
The train waitress lifted the metal dome to reveal a hot bowl of thinly cut spaghetti noodles and square-cut chunks of pork and beef. Two thick cuts of airy bread were set on the edges, as a healthy dose of freshly grounded black pepper and grated Parmesan cheese filled the cracks between the noodles. The noodles themselves were cooked with bits of garlic, cream and butter as well. A grand, filling dish yet humble in its construction.
«12. . .800801802803804805806. . .824825»
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