Bad Influences
"But your excellency, they are criminals." Froogle lamented, the latest in a long line of cautionary outbursts from his advisor this morning.
Dimon huffed again "That's a very flexible term, Froogle. Quite dependant on your definition, no?" Froogle did not look convinced but was quickly silenced as his master thrust a drinks tray into his hands.
The Senator had been a whirlwind of activity all morning; he'd even woken up a little earlier just for the occasion, for he had guests coming.
In honour of the occasion, he had not only cleared his schedule, but he'd prepared the open-air balcony of his residence. Sofas could be seen surrounding a circular table, soon to be heavy with food, at the heart of the room - a dozen droids on standby to attend to his and his guest's every need.
He was dressed in a black karlini silk robe, with a red trevella cloth sash about his waist. A chromium circlet adorned the base of his lekku, cutting him out as quite the statesman - of this, he was sure.
Dimon snatched a meiloorun fruit from a passing service droid and nibbled it.
"Where are they?" the Senator thought out loud before spinning on his heels and pointing at Froogle, who winced in the apprehension of his masters' verbal lashing "Are there more protestors blocking the entrance? I told you to have security clear the park."
Froogle whimpered "It is a public space master, we cannot - they won't do -"
"Ingrates!" he threw the melroonian fruit over the side of the balcony and down the thousands of stories over which they towered. He was surrounded by ingrates!
Dimon folded his arms and scowled while waiting for his guests to arrive.
Snatching up his cane from the table, he hissed through his teeth and focused on something less likely to irritate him. Opening his NalPhone, he looked at the notes he had made the night before about his guests. Pellios something and Dismas something else, both with connections in all the wrong places.
He read the note and deleted it.
"Fiyet ji jirka dik v'ili cei korjin toyid dao ootay cea ceinireae." he slipped back into his native Ryl, irritation clear on his voice, as Froogle hopped off to carry out his master's latest instruction.
OOC - @Darasuum @Eccles