They rejoined about an hour later, as the Masters had had some other 'important' business to take care of, and the girls had needed time to get dressed properly (and, of course, do their make-up).

Not that Mel had been thinking to bring any. Its not that she was unfeminine, so much that she a) forgot, and b) didn't ever wear much.

That was more where Katie was concerned, as she'd brought at least half of her stash in her bag. She hadn't worn any in forever, as they'd only been jumping about and doing school related stuff. Now what she wouldn't have felt before she came seemed weirdly heavy and false. As Mel (against popular demand) shared the cosmetics, Katie was digging about in the unused suitcase. She was looking for her collection of jewelry, something else she hadn't worn in a long while due to practical reasons.

Mel had already claimed a black lace choker, refusing point-blank to wear any more red. But she left her ears unadorned, not wanting to deal with the new feeling (she also hardly wore earrings, despite having her ears pierced). Katie, on the other hand had already decked out her own ears, wearing a pair of red drops on silver strings that hooked to her second hole, and cuffed on her upper ear. Around her neck went a necklace Mel had given her for her birthday a year or two ago, consisting of black string from which a blood-red drop hung (just long enough to rest where her cleavage began).

As they all assembled in the main bay, Obi-wan couldn't help admitting that they really did look stunning. Personally he felt his padawan looked best, silkily beautiful with a playfully dangerous edge, and enough polish to hide the latter. But then, she always looked pretty even when her hair was sweaty and she was ready to drop. Weirdly enough, he thought she looked her best with the live lightsaber in her hand, matching her loveliness with purpose. Some might have said she deserved to be bedecked in the finest gold, but he knew that she would not be happy as decoration alone. But then, he was unique, as this was an entirely impartial musing. She was a student and a friend, but no more.

Vader would have disagreed as to who was the more beautiful, had he been able to hear Obi-wan's thoughts. Katie looked as good as her friend, though in a slightly different way. She wore black more often than not, and the color emphasized her fair skin. It was hardly a vampiric effect, simply a more dramatic one than wearing blue would have done. One of the more obvious differences between her and her friend had less to do with their looks than their moods. Mel seemed confidant though not overly so, just enough to seem comfortable. Katie looked more like she wished she were far away, her natural confused air at a new situation compounded by wide eyelinered eyes.

They were not the ideal of beauty as far was Hoth was concerned as they were far to fair (one from genetics, the other from the time of artificial light); but any of the young men who were not blind could be expected to want a turn around the floor with them.

Obi-wan was all set to let it happen, as he had no desire to dance himself. He was confident that his padawan could take care of herself, and was actually looking forward to seeing her crush the poor boys' hopes and dreams.

But this was all rather pointless musing. What would happen would happen, whether he liked it or not. Usually not. But it came with the job, he supposed. That's what you got for hobnobbing with the bureaucracy.

Deciding to interrupt his lovely thoughts was none other than the creature Terryal, looking uncomfortable as he wrestled with the large black helmet. He was the 'body double', someone important enough to know the answers but not irreplaceable, and conveniently about the same height as Vader. "You ready?" He asked, addressing the group in deliberately light-hearted manner.

If Obi-wan didn't know better, he would have sworn the fish-boy was looking a little green.

- - -

There was no grand staircase of mahogany and marble for them to descend, but there was a rather nice arch of wrought iron and steel. The motif was tendrils of ivy and leaves, an odd choice of a foyer on a large snowball. It was; however, fitting with the air of nouveau riche that permeated through the entire section.

'Darth Vader' went first, managing to pretend an air of menace that almost matched that of the real one. The room was set up with a small dais underneath the arch, which was set with a long, elegant wood table. There were several others set up on the 'lower floor', though not half as nice.

Katie realized something at a rather inopportune moment, a result of her lack of hindsight. "What am I supposed to call you?" She hissed to her disguised master, as she hung off his arm.

He paused for a second, as he'd managed to overlook that particular point himself. "Skywalker." He replied, leaning in so that only she could hear him.

"Skywalker." She replied, nodding. It was no curiouser a name than either Vader or Obi-wan, though she did wonder where he'd gotten it. An alias, perhaps?

Mel was much more interested in looking around than Katie was, or even her escort was. Granted, he'd seen it all before, but they might changed something. From what she could tell, they seemed like very fancy people. The plates were gilded, the utensils were elaborately shaped, and even the tablecloth matched the satin lacy napkins. It was also very devoid of color. She was wearing the only gold in the entire room, it seemed, and even the settings were in shades of neutral. Whites, greys and blacks seemed to be the only colors allowed, but wouldn't they get tired of it? It was hardly colorful outside either.

But then, perhaps the hostess had something to do with this. Her eyes, wide with snake-like slitted pupils, were a shade of the deepest violet. Ianthe's hair was a shade of white-blond, she was very fair-skinned, and even her dress, the color of smoke, seemed to enhance the feeling of utter insubstantiality. An ethereal figure, she did not walk but floated up to her newly arrived guests. As much as her body seemed fragile, her face was not. Sharply angled and pointy, it conveyed a sense of fey strength. Her ears were elfin, and her fingers long and slender. But she had filed her nails to points sharp enough to draw blood, and there was a wicked looking diamond on her left hand.

Her consort seemed to be a deliberate antithesis to her entire effect. Solid as a glacier, he was nearly a head taller than the woman who was not short herself. His hair was a deep shade, nearly black with a blue sheen to it. His face was not sharp, but nor was it stupidly blunt. Rather it seemed to have smoothed edges, and was impassive. He was wearing black, which seemed to be the color of the evening as well as accentuating his only spots of color. These were, of course, his icy aquamarine eyes. It was arresting to see how well the two aristocrats personified their homeland. She brought to mind the keen, vicious arctic wind, he one of the mountainous glaciers that carved rock.

Melissa was finding it intriguing to contrast the various people there. Though he was not wearing a single gem or clothes other than his Jedi robes, Obi-wan managed to look equally impressive. It was in a quieter way, but through sheer force of personality he could make the finer peacocks fall silent when he wished to speak.

She herself felt like an impostor, feeling the red of her dress jump out like a yell. None of the other guests had a color nearly as bright, as they were all in the blacks and greys and whites. But she did see at least one or two of the younger ladies eye it enviously, wishing their dress was a color half as daring. Straightening, she faced them proudly. To hide or shrink from the birds of prey would do no good.

Katie was more wishing not to be seen. She felt like an idiot, suddenly realizing how very small and insignificant she was. What did she know that would be of any use? There were plenty of armed guards at the sides, and she simply couldn't shake the feeling of being surrounded. Closing her eyes for a moment she berated herself again. Hiding behind anyone, as powerful as he may be, was not a good idea. When in Rome one does as the Romans. Opening her eyes she composed her face carefully, meeting Lady Ianthe's gaze squarely.

The dinner commenced without much talk, everyone seeming to know who everyone was. Obviously the poor Terryal could not eat, and so was stuck sitting looking impressive for the hour or so it would take.

The quartet was seated at the very end of the dais table, as they were (or masquerading as) lesser people. It seemed a normal, or at least not very extraordinary, fancy dinner. But there was lots, and lots to drink. The waiters (looking completely human and therefore an oddity) served the drinks first, letting the diners choose from a long list of exotic alcohol.

Seeing the grey-suited servers approaching, Obi-wan looked up and met Skywalker's gaze. They looked at each other, just looked, for a long moment before the darker one nodded. Satisfied, Obi-wan nodded as well. Altogether, a cryptic exchange.

Katie lost the unspoken contest and had to order first, picking champagne. It was the only drink she'd ever tried she'd actually liked, and she hoped it was difficult enough to screw up that she'd enjoy it. Mel was next and got vermouth; not exactly sure of it but figuring it couldn't be that bad.

Obi-wan spoke for both him and Skywalker, asking for a tray of shots. This explained the silent exchange, as they were probably used to the whole deal by now.

The drinks came in due time, causing a bit of confusion. The glasses of alcohol were the average size, but the tray held at least fifteen shots, a number that would mean both drinking the other under the table. Catching a puzzled glance from his padawan, Obi-wan condescended to explain. "It's a Force thing. You may have noticed that it speeds up your metabolism, as the energy to influence matter has to come from somewhere. It also helps burn off alcohol faster, meaning you can drink more before becoming drunk. It's a useful talent." He tossed back the first one with an almost professional air.

This was followed by a completely unrecognizable first course. Apparently some sort of salad, it consisted of white curly strands, thick grey tubers and a leafy dark blue something, topped with a dusting of a crumbled seafoam green lichen.

"Its that moss?" Katie whispered, as there was little conversation to mask her ignorance.

Her companion merely chucked unhelpfully at her. Looking up, she was surprised to see him smiling, and was instantly struck by how very attractive he was. He looked evil, to say the least, but somehow she didn't mind. An aura of power enhanced the feeling, and she couldn't help thinking that he must be very, very good at seduction.

The next course was slightly more palatable, being a clear soup sprinkled with more green flakes. Though the taste was indescribably alien, it at least looked like it could pass for earthly. Katie and Mel both ordered new drinks, surprised at how much better tasting the otherworldly cocktails were. Neither of them had been very found of their homeland's.

Obi-wan seemed to be determined to match his drinking companion's consumption, so as to keep things fair and to make sure he got his own share's worth. This made it altogether more surprising that he didn't notice when Mel sneaked one. She'd always wanted to try whiskey, or whatever sort of strong amber fluid that it was. The drink burned pleasantly on the way down, though she almost choked. She did have to admit that Obi-wan was right about the delayed effect, given that she was underage and inexperienced she expected some sort of effect right away. Instead of the one or one and a half, it ended up taking up to her third glass of wine before she started getting tipsy.

Not that anyone noticed. The food just kept coming, and the drinks were flowing even freer. Even the more reserved and careful 'nobles' looked red in the face, including the hosts. Cynric looked like he was actually talking and half enjoying himself, while Ianthe grew more reserved and hiccuped a few times. He was engaged in a lively conversation with a feline woman to his right, while his consort gazed about the room. Mel noticed her eyes keep coming to rest on their party, though exactly which of the four was so interesting she wasn't sure of.

Katie would later confess that she barely remembered the rest of the food served that night, only that it was hot and she'd kept drinking to quench the fire in her mouth. Even when the dancing had started she'd kept to the sidelines, despite the offers to the contrary. Not that there were many. She got plenty of looks from afar, but few actually ventured to where she was standing. Leaning on the wall more than actually supporting herself, but it was vertical at least.

Mel did not remember much of the food either but she suspected that was because she didn't eat any, not liking the style. She did, however, vividly recall spinning round and round the floor with some husky aristocrat in grey who kept trying to press more drinks on her.

Obi-wan did not look drunk, nor would he admit that he was or had ever been. He simply drew back into an alcove, watching morosely. Of course he hadn't lost control of said drinking, it was just that he'd gotten tolerant of it. And so could drink more than anyone else, and keep his senses. Or so he thought. Whether or not this was just wishful thinking aside, he did not do anything noteworthy for the rest of the evening.

Neither did Skywalker. He did not seem to be intoxicated either, though anyone who had cared had stopped doing so. He apparently did not wish to dance either, seemingly content to stand about with his quasi-wasted apprentice. Perhaps he felt obliged to defend her honor by giving rather nasty glares to young men attempting to ask her, or perhaps he found the company of plowed people amusing. His motives aside, it was he who escorted her off to bed once things began winding down.

Beyond the normal capabilities of intelligent speech (some would claim this a normal occurrence), she simply smiled before closing the door. Without the presence of mind to actually get undressed, she just kicked off her boots before basically passing out on her bed fully clothed…

Only to awake some three hours later, feeling insanely thirsty. Sitting up groggily, she noted that Mel was semi-conscious as well. "Want a glass of water?" Katie croaked, shakily standing. "I'm getting one for myself…"

Mel just nodded, before closing her eyes as if trying to ward off nausea. She'd had more to drink, and was clearly regretting it.

Stuffing her feet back into the boots, she wrapped a cloak around her bare shoulders. Wondering why this had ever seemed like a good idea ten seconds ago, she made her way unsteadily down the hall.

Unfortunately the kitchens were somewhere down the stairs past the doors to Vader's room, which meant being especially careful not to wake anyone up.