Dinner

[vaapadmaster]

Just before seven, the waitrats set up a table, a bit separated from the others; a table for two, with candles for the right atmosphere. Mace peruses the preparations, and raises a brow at the bottle of chilled champagne: that might be a touch too much, but he lets it stay.

Dressed in formal robes, he waits for his guest.

[Plotlocked!]

Comments

[scrmifthishurts]

Abby didn't do formal. She wouldn't know formal if it hit her. But she does disgard all of her weapons for once. And clothing wise opts for a pair of black jeans with a nice top. Not too formal and not too dressy.

Going downstairs she's led over to the table by one of the waitrats and she can't help but smile a bit. That was definitely not something that she'd expected but it was nice... definitely interesting.

[vaapadmaster]

Mace welcomes her with a small smile, pulling the chair for her. "Good evening, Abby. I hope the waitstaff has not overdone things."

[scrmifthishurts]

"Thank you." She sits down and lets her eyes roam over the setting a bit. "I don't think I've ever dealt with something set up like this. So it isn't too over the top." But then again she's got nothing to compare it to.

[vaapadmaster]

"I have been to a number of formal dinners, while in my diplomatic duties, and I dare say this still qualifies as informal, at least by the definition of 'informal' a number of sophont species adopt." He sits, and fills the fluted glasses. "I took the liberty of ordering a few delicacies from my galaxy."