The drunken playboy looked between Tiff and Jo rapidly, his alcohol addled brain slowly registering the change and the brand new bottle of booze being offered. He shrugged to Jo with a dippy looking grin on his face. "Whad can I shay? Popularidy is a churse..." He allowed himself to be led away by Tiff but put up enough of a hesitation to let Jo know he would be back. He indicated a table on the Zentreadi side for them to sit at.
The Zentreadi soldier regarded Olga and the two Jagerkin. It seemed for a moment that he just may have started something, if only to see how good they were, when a large hand placed itself on his shoulder and firmly clamped down. Standing behind him and guiding him away from Olga, a larger, obviously commander stock Zentreadi presented himself. <<It is not that they have no sense of humor, miss, it is just that their sense of humor is vastly different than our own. And none of my command will be starting any fights tonight, will they>> at that point he turned to stare down the officer <<Jorren?>>
The younger officer straighten himself up, the tension past. <<No, sir. Of course not.>>
"Good. Go enjoy the festivities." There was a mix of urgency and implied disciplinary threat behind the words. The switch back to non-Zentreadi was also noticable. The younger Zentreadi nodded and headed towards one of the large sized buffet tables. The commander turned back to Olga. His attitude became pleasant, but also business-like.
"I assume you are part of the security team for this event. I do commend you on your target selection. Jorren was not particularly pleased to be... assigned this duty. Still, this is an important event. I want to reassure you that if there is an incident it will not be because of one of our number."
Meanwhile, Dwer and Eric mingled through the crowd. Both contained themselves to the Yakuza side. The Yakuza head had been joined by a pretty young lady, save for the traces of some burns and scars running up the side of her neck and disappearing into her kimono. She seemed to be talking to the old man quietly, but rapidly. He nodded occasionally, but his face betrayed no concern at the information she was passing along. Eventually she completed her report and took a place at the table to the man's right. At this point she looked Dwer's way and have him a quizzical look, as if she was remembering something. Just as quickly she turned and joined a conversation going on at the table.
"Look, but don't touch, gaijin." The Yakuza Dwer had spotted earlier approached him. His tie hung loose around his neck and his coat was unbuttoned. His posture was languid but spoke of the experience of a trained fighter. Still, there was no immediate threat in his stance. "Old Man Hiro doesn't like men looking at his daughter. Especially foreign men. Why don't you take a little walk outside with your friend with the pony tail? You two might be able to get a drink together. Its a nice night."
Over at Tiff's table the playboy was laughing at yet another dumb joke of his own design as he slurped down yet another glass of wine. He had consumed far more than she had of the bottle, yet despite his obvious inebriation he was maintaining his balance quite well. Tiff had found herself a professional lush and probably would have regretted it save for a timely interruption.
"I see you found yourself another companion, dear."
A gorgeous woman of blatant Meltrandi heritage walked over to the table. She wore a sheer red dress that emphasized her vary generous proportions and heels the accentuated the effect. Her blue hair was styled into an up-do, but would have cascaded around her shoulders and down her back. She held a purse that matched her dress. Two elbow length white gloves completed the ensemble. It was clear she was addressing the playboy solely, though she did stare daggers at Tiff as she found her own seat and sat in close to the half-blood spokesman. She ran a hand through his hair, straightening it. The man just smiled, but he really seemed to be more interested in his glass.
The Meltrandi again glanced at Tiff with disdain in her eyes. "Dearest, send the floozy away, would you? You and I can have a drink. And then we need to talk."
Somehow Tiff got the feeling that the talk would not be good for the peace and tranquility of the party. She would have to do something right away.