[color=fff200]”Well, I hope [i]I'm[/i] good company at least. Hell, two more of these,”[/color] Itxaro said, hefting up the massive wooden mug, [color=fff200]"and I'll be the best company you've ever had."[/color] Itxaro paused. Was she flirting? Some sort of nervous impulse? No, she wasn’t nervous. The alcohol made sure of that. 

The alcohol. She was getting drunk. 

[i]Too late to stop now.[/i]

Nellara didn't seem overly-enthusiastic about the party, from what Itxaro could tell, but she admittedly knew very little about Tekeri body language. Nellara [i]did[/i] welcome the opportunity to mingle though.

[color=fff200]”Good luck getting to know us. Any two people on this ship are about as similar as you and your good friend Lord Silbermine. We’re from all over our world, some from different planets too,”[/color] Itxaro replied. [color=fff200]"Honestly, [i]I[/i] feel like the alien around this crew sometimes.”[/color] Itxaro’s speech was beginning to slow, not slur, as she struggled to translate her thoughts into a second language. As if to highlight her “otherness,” Itxaro switched to Spanish, knowing the translator program might not be as accurate, but it was better than fumbling for words. She even tried to sprinkle in the occasional native phrase as she spoke, more for her own benefit than Nellara’s. 

[color=fff200]"But you’re right. We might be here a while, may as well get familiar, yeah?”[/color] 

Itxaro grinned broadly at Nellara's takedown of Glenn music; she didn't hate it [i]that[/i] much, but nothing brought people together more than shit talking. She cast a glance over at the raucous musicians and let out an audible groan upon spotting the metal band. [color=fff200]"Well, if you’re lucky, or I guess unlucky, our stowaway band might just play something for you. Melodic death metal or something, stuff from 300 years old. I still don’t get it personally, but hey, there's rhythm. I think.”[/color]

She looked up at Nellara, searching sharp eyes for a sliver of the familiar. Something human. To Itxaro’s surprise, she found it. Faint, but there. Not human, but if she gazed into the mirror long enough she would recognize it. Sentience, she supposed. It was strange, looking into this avian face, so alien, and to find something of yourself in it, no matter how distant. Itxaro shook herself out of what she realized was a drunken musing and returned her attention to the actual conversation.

[color=fff200]"So, let me ask you this, Nellara. Ascendency and  Mythadia. Obviously, some bad blood there. Eh, animosity. Conflict."[/color] Itxaro threw out several words, not sure which would make it through the translator unmuddled. [color=fff200]"But I’m assuming it didn’t just start last week with us showing up; what’s the story there?”[/color] Itxaro hadn’t [i]meant[/i] to bring up politics. In fact, she'd intended to avoid it, trying to artfully steer Nellara away from Silbermine to keep the fragile peace intact. But she simply couldn't help herself. Any conversation worth having, Itxaro thought, revolved around either history or politics. 

Of course, right after asking she regretted it, and Itxaro glanced around the party to see if anyone from Silbermine's camp was listening in to their conversation. She caught a glimpse of Kerchak dashing off into thick grass, and if she hadn't been several drinks in, Itxaro could have sworn that the Tekeri's flesh was shifting and rippling as if two entirely different entities were wrestling for control of the same body. Itxaro looked to Nellara, trying and gauge her reaction. [color=fff200]"Ehm, is that normal for your people?"[/color]