[Citadel- Shin Akiba] New Years Party! [OPEN]

A crowd bustled about inside of Chris' restaurant, a small army's worth of food supplied on buffet tables. The music was fitting for the end of the year, the lights were bright and all seemed to be well- Especially the copious amounts of alcohol at a lounge table directly in front of Sarah Thompson. The woman took a shot of whiskey, then followed it up with a glass of carbonated soda.

"Nobody can pass up a party." She mutters, slamming her shot glass down.

And then Alina came in. She was screaming internally.

She hated parties. Too many people. Too much noise. The concept of personal space flying out the window. Drunks. This woman was not expecting much fun, but she had jack shit to do otherwise. She even bought her best outfit. She hated it.

ugh

Alina made a straight beeline for the alcohol. May as well drink the pain away. There was no sense of amusement in her as she coldly poured herself a shot, only to just hold it motionlessly as the heaving crowd of revelers pulsated behind her. All with the same apathetic look on her face.

Fun fun fun.

FUN.

Sarah glanced over at the new arrival at the alcohol table and took another drink. "So.. tense much?" She raised a sharp brow, setting her glass down. A hectic hug from around the back of the neck by the owner of the establishment- And a whispered request for assistance in the kitchen. "I - Can't cook-" She stammered.

"I just need your help moving more plates."

A hanar entered the room, in happy anticipation of new interpersonal experience. Any giddiness, though, was tempered by the caution of a mind increasingly aware of how small and out of touch it was, as well as - in all honesty - somewhat lonelier than it was expecting to be. The Citadel had been a bit of an overload, really, and Laykalar had enough of his wits about him to know that his own maddening excitement had made him less than reasonable upon first arrival. It was most embarrassing, truth be told, but then he knew just how amazingly, unthinkably lucky he was to have this opportunity, to live the life he was now - right now! - living. Just thinking about his current situation was enough to bring a warm glow of satisfaction, so he was handling himself quite well, considering. Nonetheless, correct decorum must be observed, and this had not entirely been the case over the last few days where he was concerned. He wouldn't want a repeat of the Art Shop Incident.

He almost hadn't been allowed to come, which would have been extremely disappointing. After all, the people of CDN were familiar (to a point), and the familiar had value when one was afloat in alien surroundings.

He hadn't expected the Citadel to be so...expansive. So many currents of interest that charting an actual course was a lot harder than he'd anticipated. Perhaps it would be wise to "start small" and integrate himself through interaction with people already known to him (that he didn't actually "know" any of them wasn't something he was yet confronting). In particular, this party would be a wonderful opportunity to engage in direct conversation with humans, whose world the Citadel was now orbiting. His direct interactions with humans so far had apparently flustered them.

Perhaps, he thought with cheerful optimism that refused to be swamped by rising exhaustion, tonight would be different.

The platinum blonde rose to her feet as her partner wandered off to greet the hanar that'd just arrived. Sarah rubbed her scalp, making her way into the kitchen where a handful of workers were moving trays of food to replenish the tables outside. Despite the alcohol coursing through her veins, she'd grab two trays and wander back into the lobby, setting the trays down- Turian food.

She'd furrow her brows in slight confusion, then return to her seat. Leather couch, booze.

Chris locked her hands together and peered up at the hanar. "You're Waves-Have-Broken, right? From the forum? Sarah told me to expect a hanar- But I'm not exactly sure what you'd like to eat. We've got music, food of both dextro and levo, and enough chairs. I'm Chris- I own this place, you've probably spoken with Vigilant-" She pointed off at the woman pouring a pint. "..She's over there."

Alina had already taken a seat, coincidentally a few meters or so away from Sarah.

She stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the partygoers - it was clear she wasn't enjoying the party one slight bit. Compared to the giddy, bubbly postures of everyone else, Alina remained motionless and stern, staring into space.

She had yet to down her shot.

Laykalar politely pulsed a greeting, pleased that his presence had been expected. Convincing the Elders that a get-together like this would be structured enough to keep his enthusiasm somewhat curtailed had been difficult, but ultimately worth it.

He tried to pulse slowly.

"The other is correct; this one indeed posts with the secondary face "WavesHaveBroken". This one is gratified to be here, and extends its thanks for the efforts made on these one's behalf. This one is familiar with the other known as "Vigilant", and would be most pleased to engage with her. In particular, it wishes to inquire after her continued recovery from her recent surgery. As yet, this one hasn't made any true acquaintances on the station, and is eager to take the opportunity to interact more closely with those who share a common frame of reference regarding extranet use".

There. That hadn't been too hasty or excitable, surely? As ever, the layers of meaning and subtle currents of understanding probably wouldn't translate, but his response should successfully convey his appreciation without sinking to undecorous monopolizing of conversation. Now the alien could respond, and he could move on to converse with Vigilant. It was important to reach a state of mutual comfort in the lower levels of sapient interaction before one could expect the rush of insight. Moreover, to neglect the structures of common communication in an effort to reach the heights of a new discourse was to show less than adequate respect for the gifts bestowed on one's people. It was like demanding a teacher share their knowledge while failing to pay them the most basic respects. Laykalar found that he was reliving the earliest lessons of late, reapplying what he knew to this amazing new paradigm of alien interaction. He supposed that was a necessary step in adapting.

Chris clasped her hands together and gave the hanar a once over as he spoke. She gave a polite nod. "I- Understand entirely. It can be tricky to get yourself out there in a new environment. I promise we'll set you down the right path- Sarah knows a lot of people. Come with me, I'll introduce you two. Careful, she's known to bite." She quips, wandering off to sit next to the blonde in the lounging area- Who was already halfway through her pint.

The blonde's breath smelled of the honeyed liquor she'd been drinking- Her blue eyes widened upon seeing the hanar- And she spoke with a slight giddy slur. "Oh! Hey! It's you! How are you doing?" She slowly rose- And the thought occurs she can't exactly shake hands. She stands there awkwardly for a moment, taking a sip and then putting her drink down. The raven-haired owner of the establishment covers her face with her palm.

Michelle entered the party with a smile so wide it almost couldn't fit through the door. The small rotund woman was wearing a fine blue dress and her awesome party glasses!
She was singing to herself a recent Salarian pop song, "Tonight's mating contract night", in an effort to psych herself up.

Smile unrelenting, she waved and said hi to everyone around. When she saw Sarah her eyes widened and she hurried to her.

"Hiii Sarah! So happy to see you so well after your surgery, you look gorgeous, this is so much fun! How are you? how's the party going? Oooh, who's your friend! Hi, this one's Michelle! Wait is that right?"

Michelle's overbearing friendliness gave Sarah for a split second the absurd notion that somehow they had become best friends while she was under after her surgery.

Sarah initially recoils. Someone had extra coffee this morning. She'd glance past the Hanar at her partner wandering off, blonde brows furrowing and arms crossing. She'd roll her eyes at Chris then put on a smile and turn to ..Michelle? Michelle. "Hi there! I- Wow, someone's excited to see me. It's good to see you! Have some food- This is WavesHaveBroken and I'm not too sure who that is." She pointed off at Broke Biology.

From the look on Alina's face, it appeared as though Susan's comment had offended her. Glancing at her with a look of shock, Alina sighed and rolled her eyes, before returning to staring at her tiny beverage.

Seven Systems Alliance Marines entered, Dressed to the nines in their dress uniforms. On their arms, the regimental patch of the 9th Marine Regiment. "Alright Squad, Don't get too drunk. I'm not gonna save your ass from OpsChief Brody if you end up in the brig."

"Yes, mother..." the squad replies in unison.

Service Chief Michael Cline smiles at his squad. "Hey, I'm just looking out for you guys. Now If you'll excuse me, i've got a date with the bar!" Michael says as he heads with the bar.

"Finally here", Snow muttered as he slowly strode inside, lowering his hood, looking for his boss among the drunken mass of Alliance marines, hangers-on, and assorted guests. Still wearing his street gear (crimson hooded coat, utility boots and baggy black pants), looking out of place at the party he got himself a tall glass of water. Making sure to give the jarheads a wide berth he found an empty area by the wall, hoping that Mrs. Rondor was here, and if she was, she wasn't too drunk yet....

A Turian behind the bar cleaned a glass and sighed, tending to the soldiers. From the back of the kitchen, the head chef barked orders- Moving from one oven to another and flipping food for the buffet tables onto the 'out' trays. She'd step out once again, wring her hands in the sink, and step up onto a stool. "Attention! The bowls at the end of the tables are filled with money for a reason- 80% of the proceeds from this party/event go to local charities!" She spoke with a stressed tone to her voice- Only for her earpiece to flash. She'd skip back into the back.

Sarah poured herself another glass and watched Snow as he stepped across to the bar.

Odenna double-checked the address on her omni-tool. She was off-duty so she wore a light blue robe over her pants and outfit, which made her look even shorter than she already was. She glanced up at her reflection in the mirror and then shook her head. No use dwelling on out of contact family, her sunburst tattoo faded from her mind as she saw this place.

Food everywhere... Spirits, she hoped that the dextro was marked well enough. The last thing she needed was to be hospitalized because she ate the wrong thing. The turian looked around surreptitiously; she hoped that nobody here was someone she had on the wanted list. That was another thing she needed to not deal with.

She smiled, spreading her mandibles slightly. She headed to the bar. She could use a little New Years joy.

Like most hanar, Laykalar was soothed by large groups, and was pleased that quite a swarm was now gathering around Vigilant. How exciting! He wondered if he should make an effort to say something formal. He was, after all, the sole representative of the Greater Encompassing in attendance, and although the Learned Elders considered the CDN crowd largely unsuitable contacts, Laykalar still believed that, somehow, they were wrong about that. He had found the board community an intriguing cross-section of the Many Voices, and had argued for such when announcing his intention to come. The consensus of the Elders was that the people around him were "generally unstable", but then what wasn't unstable in the galaxy of today? What could be discovered by holding oneself apart? Had not the destinies of all the races been revealed during the great storm as intertwined? He knew that if he stuck with it, he would find in the wider galactic community the true potential of Enkindlement. Given the importance of that aim, should he not take it upon himself to offer correct greetings on behalf of the ship's community? He had no standing amongst them, but if he was the sole voice here...

Yes. He would think of an appropriate speech and deliver it with due formality. The idea was rather thrilling!

Something attracted his attention. Someone had set out a bowl of flimmshimmishin! They didn't have any back on the ship, and he'd forgot to ask the other who ran the hanar restaurant to provide them during his visit. Somehow they'd managed to find some. Most excellent! He reached out a tentacle and helped himself. He thought they were flimmshimmishin, anyway...

Finishing his water the black haired man started to make his way back to the bar. Snow felt a pair of eyes on him as he reached the bar, standing beside a female turian? "Well I'll be", thinking as he set his empty glass down, noting a blonde human dressed to the nines watching him. She had been talking to other guests, mainly the dour woman sitting a few feet and an exuberant hanar. Preferring to keep a low profile, despite the abundance of SATAE bootlickers he gave the blonde hostess a courteous nod before ordering,

"Another water please?"

A Maitre d' glanced over at the Hanar with exuberance crossing his bony face. There were a lot of humans, asari and turians working the place- And a bowl of Wave's desired food was indeed prepared for him- In case a hanar would appear. "These are yours." He spoke, straightening to a rigid posture and listening to his earpiece with attentiveness- Problems in the kitchen. He'd step off to the back.

Sarah would collapse back onto the couch and adjust her casual jacket. She'd cross her leg over her knee and finish off her drink. The blonde rubbed the bridge of her nose and set the drink down- Unsteady in her movements. "I ..should.. not be sitting here." She spoke with a slur, covering her hand with her face to hide a goofy grin.

Two of the marines approach the bar, One of the corporals of the squad and the Service Chief.

"Vodka on the rocks." The Corporal said.

"Pint of India Pale Ale." The Service Chief said afterward.


Meanwhile, the other marines were milling around the buffet table.

"Lesse.. Pulled pork, Cornbread, some Brisket..." the sole female of the squad said.

"Scheiße, Rutledge... You sure you gonna be able to eat all that?"

"Haven't had decent BBQ in Two Years, Dolf."

Odenna moved to sit at the bar.

"I'll take some whiskey, neat." The turian nodded at the bartender before looking around. She wasn't going to directly approach anyone. Not yet. She needed to see how things went first.