Fw: Please pass the marmoset...?

["Kathie Care" <kathie@availablelight.net>]

Since the lists were down, this didn't go through the last time. So, I'm
re-trying it...

2/5/02
Logfile from Dune - Ophelia
Where the Great Houses vie for power in the Padishah Imperium....


Imperial Courthouse -- Imperial Palace (Kaitain)

        A small, intimate courtroom, intended for the rather minimal daily
caseload of the Imperial Justiciar, it is nonetheless done in grand style.
Massive vaulted ceilings rise to a central cupola, this the canvas for a
colossal mosaic of gold tile, depicting a shining balance, the symbol of
justice. Mahogany benches padded in soft leather give comfortable purchase for
those coming to witness the few trials that occur here. A small rail separates
the benches from the forward area of the courtroom. Two tables reside for the
use of the prosecution and defense, ample room for the various barristers who
may assist in the proceedings.

        Dominating all is the Justiciar's bench, a towering construct of white
marble, opulently decorated with gold filigree. Behind the bench is a
high-backed chair with small golden lions perched on either side. Directly to
the right of the bench is a witness box, presumably where those with pertinent
information would stand as the lawyers interrogate them. On the left wall, near
a solitary door, is a box for the accused. Under heavy guard at all times, those
unlucky enough to come before this court stand here in terrible expectation of
the justice that will inevitably be served.

        Large windows to the rear of the courtroom allow light to flood in
without distracting those taking part in the trial. Doors open up onto a small
patio prepared for media representatives to set up their equipment for recording
the proceedings of each important trial.

                 PLACES CODE HAS BEEN IMPLEMENTED IN THIS ROOM.

Players:

 Emylie                                             Caeciliah
 Martin                                             Boris
 Pers                                               Shane
 Ander                                              Scaurus
 Jacob                                              Layard
 Alexandra                                          Anatole

Exits:

 Golden Archway <O> leads to Cannon Green -- Imperial Palace (Kaitain)

Emylie joins the General Seating.

Marco arrives from the Cannon Green.
Marco has arrived.

Ekaterina arrives from the Cannon Green.
Ekaterina has arrived.

Caeciliah joins the General Seating.

Ander, a tall man in brown flowing robes with long hair held together by a
silver ring, sits alone observing his surroundings contently.

Pavel appears from behind the Justiciar's bench.
Pavel has arrived.

Pavel takes a seat at the Justiciar's Bench.

Pers reaches out to take the deep fried snack. "I always found such primate meat
a little too gamey," he confides with a furrowed brow, "but perhaps it's
appropriate for this evening." He twists off half of the little monkey and chews
on it thoughtfully.

The Harkonnen retinue pour wine into long handled goblets, passing them to the
Baron and the Viscount.

You take a seat in the General Seating section

Marco joins the General Seating.

Pers accepts the glass of wine, flicking another glance at the page. Dutifully,
a hip flask is produced along with several thin-crystal glasses. Vodka is
distributed back in the direction of the wine.

Layard stands as Emylie arrives into the General Seating. He notices that the
Harkonnens have broken out the wine. Perhaps someone could get them a fruit bowl
and some cheese while they are at it. He clears his throat a bit, bowing his
head to Emylie a bit.

Pers mutters to Boris and Caeciliah, "Unfortunately,... unable to... for...
sliced... accompany the... on account... knife."

Obviously out of breath, but present nonetheless, the Contessa Moritani arrives,
slipping into the General Seating with as little fuss as possible. Apparently,
she doesn't wish to bring too much attention to herself.

But leave it to the Moritani to be so fashionably late..

Boris elbows Pers gently. "Ah, here's the Justiciar now. I always liked that
fellow." with the air of a man who's just seen a favorite hometeam pitcher walk
onto the field. He gulps his wine, grinning.

From the General Seating, Emylie chooses a seat in the very front, dipping a
quick curtsy in Layard's direction, before sliding onto the bench.

Pers nods in solemn approval, answering back quietly. "A man of unquestionable
moral stature," he agrees. "From what I hear, he also gave the Contessa a run
for her money."

Boris tosses back a shot of the Alvst vodka, gratefully. "Bloody pages," he
tells the Viscount. "Hard to find good help nowadays."

Jacob sniffs slightly as the Contessa enters, and almost makes eye contact. A
distracted nod is thrown in her direction.

Marco follows behind Ophelia taking a seat beside her, and resthing his back
against the seating.

With very little fanfare, the Marshall of the Court comes from behind the bench
and yells out, "Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! The Imperial Court for the Planet of Kaitain
is now in session. His Excellency, the Viscount Pavel Andreyevich Romanov
presiding. All who have business before this Court come forward and you shall be
heard. Long Live this Court, Long Live the Emperor."

With that, the Justiciar appears from behind the bench and stands, surveying the
gallery.

Ophelia settles herself, her eyes remaining forward towards the Justiciar.
Jacob's glance, however, is pointedly ignored... if it is even noticed.

Scaurus is quite stoic in his place, hands clasped lightly in his lap. The cane
he has is kept to the side of his chair, and the Treasurer is strangely
impassive today, his bland expression unbroken by the streak of sadism one might
expect to see. He turns his head slightly at the pouring of wine and other
little concessions, and a tiny hint of that sadism appears in a minor smile.
<<Your last supper, Anatole.>>

From the General Seating, Shane stands at the arrival of Ophelia, settling down
once more as she's settled with her accompaniment. Hands folded in front of him,
in his lap, he looks up, waiting expectantly.

From the General Seating, Boris says, "Ophelia! Grand to see you! Would you like
some marmoset? justice always gives me an appetite."

Caro arrives from the Cannon Green.
Caro has arrived.

Woladas arrives from the Cannon Green.
Woladas has arrived.

Caro joins the General Seating.

Jacob offers a low nod to the Justiciar, and he even seems to smile softly.
<<Neat trick, that, appearing like magic from behind his desk.>>

Layard stands straight, "Long Live the Emperor." He states in unison with the
rest of the crowd as they are preparing to get themselves settled.

From the General Seating, Ekaterina slips in, also late, and more or less
without retinue. The Regent makes her way to a seat beside the House Suk.

Woladas joins the General Seating.

Upon seeing the Justiciar enter, Scaurus slowly rises in his position, dipping
his head toward the usually jovial fellow. With a raspy undertone the Treasurer
intones, "Long Live the Emperor..." Corrino nobles are bred very much alike.

Ander smiles and nods respectfully to his Regent as she sits down.

From the General Seating, Jacob waves Caro and Woladas over to sit by him,
located though he may be in front of the peanut gallery.

"Lady Rastanyev," Pers says in a directed greeting. "Do join us. We were just
enjoying some vodka...Alvst brew, of course." He holds up his delicate shot
glass, taking back a hit of the drink.

From the General Seating, Ophelia turns slowly as her name is called, blinking
in surprise at the offer from the Harkonnen. As if her could not look any more
ill at ease than she is, she positively blanches at the offered marmoset, then
looks to the Baron Harkonnen with her lips pressed into a very thin, very tight
line. "This is not a picnic, m'lord Baron," she hisses in a quiet whisper, then
turns her attention back to the trial of her cousin. Even though it's perhaps
not even truly well underway yet.

Pers purses his lips disapprovingly at Ophelia's reaction. Really now, every
time's a good time for marmoset. Turning to Boris he quietly mentions over his
drink, "I see that Ginaz and Moritani are ignoring each other again. Reminds you
of the good old days, isn't it?"

From the General Seating, Martin remains at his place in the back of the room,
bowing at the arrival of his Countessa. He sits quietly, only looking foward for
the preceding to start. He momentarily looks to his shadow and sighs.

Without turning around, Jacob replies to Pers quietly, but pitched will enough.
"Indeed. It might seem that way." However, he sounds somewhat amused.

Pers nods amiably towards the back of Jacob's head, munching away on another
marmoset. Addictive little buggers, they are.

From the General Seating, Caro smiles at Jacob as she makes her way over,
glancing around and noting who else is in attendance. She waves at Emylie and
then espies Martin and Layard both in the crowd. She hesitates uncertainly and
then continues to her seat beside Jacob.

From the General Seating, Boris , chewing happily on the marmoset Ophelia
rejected, nods to Pers with a grin and a snort.

From the General Seating, Marco glances around at so much talk of Moritani, but
keeping silent all the same as the rest of his clan is doing.

Marco whispers: Are you okay?

From the General Seating, Ekaterina inclines her head to the Viscount and his
illustrious company, and placidly declines, saying, "I regret that I cannot,
though you are most kind to offer. Regretfully, I could not possibly give to
your party the attention you deserve while trying to follow the proceedings."

From the General Seating, Jacob quietly offers his arm to Caro, but seems intent
on the proceedings.

From the Justiciar's Bench, Pavel takes his seat at the bench with a brief nod
to the Siridarii. "Be seated," offers to the assembled mass, then he peers down
at the Marshall and asks, "What do we have on the docket today, eh?"

From the General Seating, You mutter, "No..."

Layard nods to Caro with a faint smile, however; he does not give Jacob much
attention, just a solemn nod. <<The Corpse of my cousin is not even cold, yet he
has found another. A pox on his House, and his progeny!>> He then seats himself,
stoically.

From the General Seating, Pers inclines his head neatly towards the Regent,
leaning back to focus his attention on the Justicar himself. For now, at least.

From the General Seating, Emylie nods pleasantly to Caro as she sits next to
Jacob. Then she turns back around, her attention on the Justiciar rapt.

From the Prosecution Table, Scaurus seats himself, as instructed by Pavel, and
remains quiet in his position upon the prosecution bench. He spares no glance
back to the Siridari, blue-within-blue eyes locked intently upon Pavel. He's
obviously been waiting for this trial for quite some time.

From the General Seating, Caro takes the proffered arm and leans against Jacob a
little as she turns her attention to the proceedings.

Boris is passed a fresh wineglass. Picking his teeth, he sits back to watch the
proceedings.

The Marshall replies simply, "The case of Lord Ciccolini is before you today,
Excellency."

The Justiciar inclines his head, "Ahhh... yes. Call the case, then."

The Marshall nods and intones loudly, perhaps his only real joy in life, "The
Imperium calls the case of the Emperor versus Lord Anatole Ciccolini to order.
All those with information pertaining come forward and be heard." With that, the
door next to the Defendant's box swings open.

Boris mutters to Pers, "... axe?... Justiciar had... nice big... hand! Gah....
solaris... work!"

Anatole steps out, from whatever holding area he, and other defendants were
contained in. He has no lawyers, just the one man. Looking the best he can, but
he has some stubble on his face, and his eyes sunken in a bit. He walks in,
escorted by a set of guards, who seem to have little to do, the Lord is quite
amicable. He glances over the assembled nobles, and then turns to Pavel, looking

directly at the Justicar, but saying nothing, yet.

From the General Seating, Jacob leans in to Caro to whisper something.

Pers mutters to Boris, "... heard that they... axe... pay... running... pawned
off his... palace."

From the General Seating, Ophelia remains, for the most part, stoic and rigid.
Though as Anatole is led in, her fists clench within the folds of her skirts,
her nails surely digging in to the palms of her hands. Perhaps it is this trick
that helps her ignore the continued commentary around, and remain so...
composed.

From the Prosecution Table, Scaurus turns to look directly at Anatole, the icy
gaze he shoots toward the man is unmistaken. After a few moments of openly
staring at the fellow, the Treasurer brusquely turns his head, dismissing the
common Moritani cur. His attentions turn back to Pavel, using all his ability to
show himself as the utmost pinnacle of nobility, and Anatole as the lowest of
common criminals.

Pavel glances at the defendant, then down at the file handed up by the Marshall.
"It looks like the charges are Battery, namely upon the person of Lord Charles
Winston Scaurus, and Breach of the Peace of Kaitain." Turning his attention back
to Anatole he asks, "Are these charges clear to you, Lord Ciccolini?"

Boris shakes his head at something Pers mutters to him.

Anatole nods once, not looking at Scaurus, but staying completely focused upon
Pavel. "They are quite clear Lord Justciar. They have been explained to me at
length."

From the General Seating, Layard notices the ridgid posture of the Contessa even
from his position in the back. He does not give favor, nor scorn to the woman,
but merely remains silent and neutral, as he should. Let Justice handle this.

Pavel nods, looking around the courtroom briefly, then back to Anatole. "It
appears you have chosen not to have counsel present. Is that your wish, my
Lord?"

Anatole speaks clearly, and calmly. "I am well versed in the law Lord Justicar.
Unless I have need, I will represent myself..."

Boris mutters to Pers, "... has... fool... a... eh?"

From the General Seating, Ophelia shakes her head slowly as she hears Anatole's
statement, muttering quietly to no one in particular, "I have a fool for a
cousin."

Pers mutters to Boris, "... a... of... certainly... have... funds on the sod."

From the General Seating, Jacob smiles softly as he hears the word 'fool' echo
from several different people at once.

At this, the Justiciar glances into the gallery, squinting a bit to peer through
the sea of faces, searching for one in particular. "If the Countess Moritani is
present, would you please rise."

From the General Seating, Marco sits tight lipped with a nuetral expression to
his dark features. Haunting all blue eyes lulled slightly as he stares off in
space for a brief moment.

Ophelia pauses for a moment, then rises from her seat as bidden, clearing her
throat. "I am here, Lord Justiciar," she says solemnly, her voice a monotone.

Scaurus only barely responds to the Justiciar's request, raising a plucked brow
curiously. He then lapses back into furrowing his brows, eyes sliding to the
side, just managing to take Ophelia's form into his gaze.

From the General Seating, Caro converses softly with Jacob and smiles, her
attention drawn to the trial or the crowd only briefly before returning to the
man beside her.

Pavel nods in acknowledgement, "Your Excellency... As this man stands accused of
a serious crime, which may reflect upon your House and its stature among the
Landsraad, does this decision sit well with you?"

"No, Lord Justiciar, it does not sit well with me," Ophelia replies, letting her
voice carry across the room. Of course it doesn't sit well with her. Blood is,
as they say, thicker than water sometimes. Except where money and prestige is
concerned... for the Moritani.

Pavel purses his lips, "I see. I am loathe to delay these proceedings any
further. Do you wish to offer up counsel at this time?"

Anatole sighs, and turns towards Ophelia, "Countessa, with all due respect, you
turned your back on me, and I have no wish to see my name sully our house any
further. What I must do, from here on in...I should do alone."

A loud cough-cum-snort disturbs the rear ranks of the room, but a quick,
soothing sip of vodka calms the Viscount Alvstad's throat. "Mild respiratory
discomfort," he comments to anyone close enough to hear or staring at him.

"Silence, Anatole," Ophelia snaps, looking away from him to glance to where
Shane sits. "Lord Padron is capable of speaking on Lord Ciccolini's behalf," she
continues, her tone much less acidic.

From the General Seating, Boris shakes his head derisively, muttering, "Counsel!
Let me be his counsel! I'd counsel him to make sure his will is filled out!" he
says with a chuckle.

Scaurus' jaw tightens slightly, and he turns back to face the front, tapping his
hands along the sides of the chair. His eyes glaze over with annoyance, and he
chews on the inside of his cheeks, keeping himself from openly turning on
Ophelia. <<You'll regret you offered that counsel, Moritani bitch...>>

From the General Seating, Marco glances over at his cousin showing a little
scour but his eyes shoot over to Ophelia suddenly.

Shane leaves the General Seating.

Anatole turns away, mumbling under his breath, "I gave warning...I am no longer
responsible for what happens to this house."

From the General Seating, Jacob seems to be quite enjoying these exchanges, eyes
flicking between Anatole and Ophelia, and cocking his head to better hear
Waldorf and Statler behind him.

Woladas leaves the Courtroom for the Cannon Green.
Woladas has left.

Pavel shoots the defendendant a quick glance, then back to the Countess, "Very
well. Send him forward." Without even waiting for Shane to take his place, he
turns to Anatole. "Now that that's settled, how do you plead to the charges
before you?"

Shane stands, as he looks up to the Lord Justiciar. His hands clasped behind his
back, he waits to be invited to approach, given the command of course from his
Countess. Hands clasped behind his back, the reputed Swordmaster rises to his
feet, grim scar down his jaw looking visibly tight. Upon his approach,
preferring of course not to give Anatole the chance to do anything more foolish,
"The Lord Ciccolini of course pleads not guilty to these charges."

Anatole turns, about to speak, as Shane cuts him off. He turns away, shaking his
head...

Boris mutters to Pers, "... He's obviously... him,..."

A loud snort can be heard from the General Seating. Its source is not apparent.

Pavel grins a grandfatherly grin to Shane, "I don't know how many of these
things you've been to, lad. But generally, when I ask a question, I direct it to
the person I'd like to have answer it." With that, the Justiciar turns back to
Anatole, "My Lord Ciccolini, how do you plead?"

Pers mutters to Boris, "... if... accept... new..."

Boris mutters to Pers, "I'd donate... from... personal collection!... even...
it, if... like he..."

With a small nod to Shane, and a quiet sigh, Ophelia slowly sinks back down into
her seat. So what if Shane isn't a lawyer? At least the token effort has been
made... and she can't be accused of being entirely callous and cold, much as
she'd like to strangle Anatole herself. There would be far worse punishments
than a lifetime trip to Salusa Secondus for the man indeed, though he's already
gotten a taste of some of it, to be sure, given this Contessa's reputation for
being so very fond of the phrase 'off with his...'.

Shane smiles, slightly, but gives a bow of understanding. His hands clasp behind
his back as he waits, standing by the defendant, and looking over to Anatole.

Anatole turns back to the Justicar, "In that case...I plead guilty to the
charges of assault, and disturbing the peace. I did indeed strike the Lord, and
indeed, I did disrupt the peace of the Marquis's celebration." He seems quite
certain of these words, and secure in the speaking of them.

From the General Seating, Marco looks over to Ophelia with a raised eyebrow.

Scaurus leans back further into his chair. Suddenly, the Treasurer feels quite
alone, sitting upon that prosecution bench. Six empty seats next to him, the
Treasurer looks up at Pavel, questioningly, and all of a sudden, the man tenses,
a feeling of being setup flooding his veins. For a moment, he looks over to
Shane and Anatole blankly, scowling at Pavel's grin, then breathing in deeply.

 As Anatole speaks, Scaurus offers only a momentary glance to the noble,
waiting, clearly, for a 'but..' or a 'however..'

Pers exhales sharply, trying his best to not look disappointed.

Pers mutters to Boris, "... and... with. When's... hm?"

Caeciliah arches an eyebrow in the direction of Pers and Boris, and mutters,
none too softly and rather pointedly, "My, that was an interesting trial...
Perhaps next time they want to play fistfight, they'll get the lawyers involved,
it would certainly be more amusing that way, pleading guilty, indeed."

Boris checks his personal timepiece on response to Pers' query.. "If they had
him on the spike within the hour, we could have an early lunch, eh?"

Justine arrives from the Cannon Green.
Justine has arrived.

"Perhaps the Imperial Kitchens will serve something in a farewell banquet," Pers
opines thoughtfully. "Or at least have an adequately stocked bar to support the
festivities."

Pavel arches a brow, suprised at the man's callous disregard for his own person.
"And you realize the sentence that such guilt carries?"

Justine, very quietly, makes her way through the archway and to the nearest seat
possible, setting herself down.

Justine joins the General Seating.

From the General Seating, Jacob looks passively on. His hand seems to inch
closer to his swordbelt. <<Of course. If he leaves, he never has to face me.>>

Anatole nods, "I do Lord Justicar...although I have faith that the mercy of the
court will be extended..." He smirks, ever so slightly, perhaps amused at
himself, a private joke, or the situation he is in.

Shane looks to Anatole. He clearly could say something, the words on his lips,
but he turns, briefly, giving a look to the Countess. Hands clasped in that
dutiful pose as he stands behind Anatole, he clearly waits for some sign of her
wishes.

Scaurus grips the sides of his chair, almost losing his own restraint,
swallowing a loud sigh at the proceedings. <<Let him plead guilty, damn you!
Throw him to Salusa! Take the Baron's idea and have his head put on a pike!>>.
Then, as Anatole speaks, he freezes, head slowly turning to face the man,
muttering to himself, "A pardon...?"

From the General Seating, Caro observes the various reactions in the crowd,
somewhat surprised.

From the General Seating, Boris raises a wineglass in salute to the arrival of
Lady Justine, smirking. A Harkonnen servant pours her a glass of Giedi red,
which is proffered respectfully to her.

From the General Seating, Pers raises his own glass to the Lady Justine, an
oddly bright smile on the man's lips for once.

Ophelia watches and listens intently, of course, and when Shane turns to her to
seek her guidance... she merely slowly shakes her head, her eyes closing. Let it
go... let him go.

A bit puzzled at the Moritani's sense of humor, the Justiciar nods and offers,
"Very well..." Turning to Scaurus, "Well... since there is no need for fact
finding... does the prosecution have any arguments for sentencing?"

Pers elbows Boris softly. "Justice is about to be served," he notes, much like a
fencing match commentator. "We can only hope that lunch will be served alongside
it."

Shane turns back after the brief look to Ophelia and simply stands beside
Anatole. Either he will be the first lawyer ever to get a man who pleads guilty
out of a death sentence without calling a single witness...or else he'll at
least get his picture in the news.

From the General Seating, Justine smooths out the wrinkles that are beginning to
form in her lap. Upon being offered the wine glass, she looks to it with a
quirked brow and then over to whom offered it to her. Surprised to see that it
is the Jolly old Baron himself, she flashes him a smile while she bows her head
slightly to him, taking the glass. Her lips form the silent words, "Thank you".

Boris nods to Pers. "It's the least they could do, eh? Perhaps a buffet. I so
love those!"

From the General Seating, Marco crosses his thick arms over his chest and turns
to face the others of his house. The High Councilor of the Interior holds still
but still glancing back and forth between the members.

Pers mutters to Boris, "And we'll... Isn't that... last marmoset..."

Boris passes Pers the last plate of fried marmoset, having emptied his picnic
box. "Yes, damn it all." he grumbles. "I'm hungry again already."

Pers mournfully observes, "If they'd only let the page with the lemons
through..."

Scaurus slowly rises from his seat as prosecution, looking over to Anatole.
Clearly, Scaurus is intent on providing more of a show for the Siridar than
Anatole is, and the man steps away from the prosecution bench, just to the side,
"Your Excellency, as the victim in this disturbing matter, I call upon the
defendant to receive the proper punishment for the charge of battery, that the
Lord Anatole Ciccolini be exiled to the prison planet of Salusa Secundus and
remain in exile for the remainder of his years. Let it be known, throughout the
worlds of the Imperium, that law -is- the ultimate science, and that no man," he
emphasises, "-no man!- Be allowed to violate those laws which have held our
society in its balance for the past 10,000 years." He pauses, looks to Anatole,
face almost sorrowful for the fellow. But he can see the mad glint in the
Treasurer's eyes, how much enjoyment Scaurus receives from this little show, "As
a man I may forgive another man for his rash actions, but as a noble and
righteous member of the Imperium, I must do all I can to see justice done." He
then pauses, looks back to the Justiciar and bows slightly, returning to his
seat. Those who know Scaurus clearly see that he's being diplomatic about this,
otherwise he would have taken the Baron's idea, and Anatole would be a fitting
decoration upon the Cannon Green.

Pavel whacks his gavel upon the bench and shoots Boris and Pers a glare. A
rarely seen scowl across the Justiciar's face indicates his displeasure as he
rebukes them both, "Quiet in the Court Room... the offended party deserves to be
heard."

Pers mutters to Boris, "... certainly heard..."

Pers looks up to Pavel, at once a stately old grandfather. Tipping his head
respectfully, he raises his last marmoset in a solemn salute to the Justicar.

Justine raises the glass of wine to her lips, slowly nursing the fine wine as
her eyes linger about the room, taking time to see all who is here over the rim
of the crystal goblet.

Boris says, "adgfqweuirgqeuirp34i2y5uqi32y65p2435234kh534ghsdynryuhnjnryuj"

(OOC) Pers falls down laughing. "Boris is having a seizure! Someone call 911!"

(OOC) Ophelia says, "Quick! someone give him the heimlich!"

(OOC) Caeciliah administers cpr!

(OOC) Pers says, "He's choking on a marmoset!"

(OOC) Justine says, "He poisoned his own drink ;)"

(OOC) Caeciliah says, "Quick, get out the portable defibrilators!"

(OOC) Ophelia says, "Wait, Pers, you took the last one. It can't be marmoset.."

Pavel nods appreciatively to Scaurus, "Thank you, Lord Treasurer... I will take
your concerns under advisement." He then turns his attention toward the
defendant, being sure to rest his gaze on the munching Siridarii for a brief
moment to underscore his earlier point. "Does the defense have any mitigating
factors for the Court to consider?"

Shane waits, patiently, and turns to look at Anatole. Sure, he'll let out a
little more rope, and let Anatole speak first before he offers anything, if he
even does.

(OOC) Pavel dies laughing, "Damn, Boris. Now I'm going to have to banish you to
the dungeon!"

(OOC) Pers says, "You're right, Oph. I think he started gnawing on his own arm."

(OOC) Shane doubts there's not anything down there that Boris doesn't have in
his own entertainment room.

(OOC) Pavel says, "Ok... I'll banish him to an Alvst Nunnery. :)"

From the General Seating, Ophelia turns to look down the row of seating,
catching the action of the Viscount, and, the Lady Garamond joining in the
picnic and celebratory feast. An eyebrow lifts slowly, and she slowly nods to
herself. <<Aha. Wanting my support, eh... we'll see... we'll see...>>

(OOC) Scaurus gasps, looking around, "Wait a minute...where did the Emperor's
children go?!"

(OOC) Pers says, "Hey, careful. The penguins might 'collect' his knee caps."

Anatole nods once, pausing to think, before speaking. "I agree with the Lord
Treasurer, most heartily I do. It is for that which I think I must be allowed to
speak, both here, and in private. Lord Scaurus, perhaps if I could offer
information about the possible culprit in the death of your cousin, the Princess
Jenaa Corrino herself, would you find it in your heart to dispense the same
justice to them as you would to me? No matter whom it might be?"

Scaurus looks to Anatole, brow raising quizically, and slowly rises again,
looking to Pavel for a moment for consent to answer the defendant's question.

Jacob speaks softly, but his voice carries. "A feeble ploy by a doomed fool."

Jacob has disconnected.

Pavel furrows a brow at the defendants offer, but holds his thoughts for the
moment. A tentative nod is all that he offers to Scaurus, wondering to himself
where this is going to go.

Adrick arrives from the Cannon Green.
Adrick has arrived.

Shane turns to look back to Ophelia again...

Justine lowers the wine glass from her lips and continues to look around the
room, a slight look of confusion on her face as she does. She tries to catch
Pers' eye, furrowing her brows heavily and giving a 'What's going on?' silent
questioning expression.

Adrick joins the General Seating.

Scaurus launches into response the moment the nod is given, "Lord Ciccolini. The
investigation into the..." he pauses, swallowing, "...untimely death of Her
Highness is not within my arena. However, if you claim to have information
regarding any persons involved in this matter, it may be prudent that you
provide the Lord Justiciar with that knowledge..." No mention is made of the
recent Landsraad decree regarding the investigation, and the Treasurer looks
over to Pavel, clearly as puzzled as any other as to where this is all going.

Anatole nods, speaking directly to Pavel still, "Of course Lord, I would not
think to do otherwise, but unfortunately, with those assembled here, I think it
would create a good deal of chaos, if I were to implicate who I think is
responsible for such things." He glances around, and can't help but stop his
glance on the Marquis Ginaz.

Jacob has connected.

Such poetic words from the Ginaz, though it only serves to rouse the Contessa's
ire further. Ophelia's eyes narrow slightly, and she, too, breaks her silence to
murmur just softly enough, "...at least he didn't choose another to warm his bed
before his -beloved- wife was even in the grave..."

Pers mutters to Justine and Boris, "... a Truthsayer..."

Pers mutters to Justine, "Apparently, the... know... the..."

Justine's head shakes to Pers and mutters something back to him.

Justine mutters to Pers, "... is going on,... Lord?... been... too long.... yes,
if... up and..."

(OOC) Boris says, "My cat trod on the keyboard and almost wrecked House
Harkonnen. Sorry."

Pers mutters to Justine, "... as it... Battered... during... ceremony, he...
face Salusa..."

Pavel purses his lips again as he listens to Anatole, "You /think/ is
responsible, my Lord? Even if I were to consider your information pertinent to
the Imperial investigation into the happenings at the Ginaz Embassy, you cannot
believe that I would forego dispensing His Imperial Majesty's justice based on
what you /think/." Considering his words for a moment, he asks plainly, "I will
ask you one question... your answer will be the basis of my decision in this
matter. Do you, or do you not, have concrete information regarding the death of
her Highness?"

Shane speaks up. "Lord Justiciar," he intones. "As counsel to the defense I must
ask that you allow for enough time for discovery. The plea is entered into the
courts, and sentence can be passed anytime while the accuses is remanded into
custody. In the mean time, I would ask the court's indulgence to allow for the
necessary information the accused may be able to provide to be determined. I
would not dare speak for the Emperor but should the Lord Cicciolini speak true,
surely he would at least merit an appeal to the seat of the Mighty Lion Throne."

Justine is about to take another sip of the wine when she hears Pers' latest
words. She blinks heavily and speaks a little louder than she means to, "He
what??"

Long distance to Shane: Ophelia nodders. Meanwhile, I'm tring to stir up WWIII
back here ;p

Anatole waits for Pavel to address Shane's comment. Perhaps the man can actually
do some good...quite impressive.

From the General Seating, Boris says, "Bargaining for information? Absurd. They
should strap the fool down and then find out what he knows. Wouldn't take too
long!"

From the General Seating, Pers merely nods, first to Justine, and then to Boris,
before taking draining the last of his wine.

Jacob actually turns around and nods deeply to Boris, apparently in total
agreement.

Scaurus looks from Pavel to Anatole, then back to Pavel, "Your Excellency, may I
approach the bench?" he inquires, raspily.

Caro also glances at Boris, but her expression is more questioning than
approving.

From the General Seating, Justine frowns heavily to Pers' nod and then looks to
Anatole with pity, shaking her head slowly before speaking quietly to Pers
again.

Pavel takes in a deep breath, obviously peturbed at this turn of events. He
motions for Scaurus and Shane to approach. In a short and sharp tone he says,
"Counsel, approach."

Jacob flicks a disinterested glance at Ophelia, and seems about to say
something, though he refrains. "This fool knows nothing; he was in custody since
long before the murder. This spectacle attempts to make a mockery of justice."

Shane makes his way towards the bench as well, hands clasped behind his back as
he does approach.

Justine mutters to Pers, "... allow... to speak."

Scaurus is posed precisely the same was as Shane while he approaches, then leans
in toward Pavel to speak.

"Bring in a Truthsayer," Pers rumbles again from the back. Well, any rumors of
his falling out with the Bene Gesserit are certainly false.

Pers mutters to Justine, "... stalling."

From the General Seating, Justine shrugs lightly to Pers and responds quietly.

Justine mutters to Pers, "... deserves... chance... Especially... to..."

Pavel leans down and listens to Scaurus intently.

Shane leans forward as well, listening and not expecting that the words are
'whispered' in Pavel's ear, hence the lean.

Pers mutters to Justine, "Or..."

Scaurus mutters to Pavel and Shane, "... to the bench, "He's clearly...
Excellency!... man... speak... in private, for... short... to... have,... his...
to... says, even... remotely,... the... and... Majesty,... the... in writing....
defendant... information,..."

From the General Seating, Martin seats quietly from his place in the back of the
room. He steeples his gloved fingers, only looking momentarily to the gibbering
Siridari. He looks back up to the Justicar's stand, wanting to know if Anatole
can bring the murderer to light.

Ophelia smirks lightly, turning to look at Marco next to her. "A mockery, he
calls it? Perhaps the Ginaz have been giving lessons," she murmurs quietly.
Though perhaps not -quite- quietly enough.

Justine quickly shoots a shocked and angered glare to Pers before replying
softly to him.

Justine mutters to Pers, "I do... the... would... her... life....
know.....knew... would never..."

Boris shifts impatiently in his seat. "Bloody delays!," he grumbles. "Justice
delayed is justice denied! And lunch delayed is intolerable. "

Shane mutters to Scaurus and Pavel, "Lord... accuser himself indicated...
must... that we... to see... as... he himself... accused.... chance... our
noble... has had and... If... his... must... retire until such... as... this
incident can... question... accused. Then... Lord,... and Man can decide his...
not... of..."

From the General Seating, Pers arches an eyebrow at Justine.

Pers mutters to Justine, "I... facts... have been... m'Lady.... error."

Jacob simply looks over at Ophelia, and smiles softly. "I have many more lessons
to give, Contessa."

Scaurus mutters to Pavel and Shane, "Just look at... room,... intend... done!
This... stall,... matter... upon, and held seperate... information the... may...
Her..."

Ophelia rolls her eyes slowly. "Promises.. promises..." she mutters quietly.

Pavel nods to Scaurus, then shoots Boris another glare. Turning his attention
back to the counsel at the foot of his bench, he nods to Anatole. "I hear your
arguments... and don't forget, Lord Padron, I /am/ the judge and this is my
courtroom. Step back, gentlement."

Justine blinks in surprise to Pers, not believing what she is hearing and
responds quietly, "They most certainly are!"

From the General Seating, Martin closes his eyes as he hears The Marquis words
float back to him. His pale face colours in anger. He breathes slowly out and
reopens his eyes. He looks to his Shadow and nods to him.

Shane gives a bow to Pavel, nodding in response. "Of course," he says, simply.
Well at least he's getting into the act.

Scaurus glares openly at Shane for a moment, before stepping back, as Pavel
requests, with a polite bow to the bench. He turns, looking at Boris and the
other quibbling Siridari, but paying particular attention to the Baron. It isn't
a look of disdain, more of curiousity. Then, Justine catches his attention, and
he passes a twitch of the lip to her, the best smile Scaurus can spare, before
turning back and facing Pavel, sitting at the prosecutors bench.

From the General Seating, Boris smirks at Ophelia knowingly, "A brave ploy,
Contessa!" he says softly.

Pers observes Scaurus's smile and turns to face him, his face devoid of all
expression. Slowly, his eyes slide back to the Lady Justine, arching an eyebrow
at her silently.

Boris mutters to Pers, "... old... he'd have... out... fool and... anyway...."

From the General Seating, Marco smirks in return to Ophelia's reply as she
speaks to him and nods slowly. His attention wonders out at the crowd before
spotting some one in particular, Lady Caro. The Count dips his head alittle and
offers a small wave to her.

Justine takes note of the attempt from Scaurus and her cheeks begin to flush
slightly from it. She offers him a crooked, nervous smile before feeling Pers'
glance and then turns to him with a quirked brow, whispering, "What?"

Pers merely flexes his lips amiably, a curiously plastic gesture, before he
returns his attention to the stand. A sly sidelong glance, however, indicates
more amusement than irritation.

Pavel clears his throat, and settles in his chair, bringing his hands together
in front of him as he delivers his ruling. "The matter of the Princess' death is
a seperate matter, and not within the purview of this hearing. Even its great
impact on all of us, even myself, cannot change the facts of the case."

A brief pause, then he continues, "Therefore, I have no choice but to rule that
Lord Anatole Ciccolini, having plead guilty to the charges before him, serve a
sentence of no less than 90 days incarceration in the Kaitain Planetary
Detention Center, thereafter to be transferred to Salusa Secundus, where he will
remain for the rest of his natural life. Should the defense wish to appeal the
matter to His Most Sublime Imperial Majesty, they may do so within the period of
incarceration here upon Kaitain." With another whack of his gavel upon the
bench, the Justiciar stands, a scowl now upon his face. "Long Live the Emperor,
this Court is now adjourned."

Caro blushes a little and hesitantly waves back at Marco.

Boris remains in his seat, scowling. "Exile? Is that all? There'll be no spike,
then?"

Parlain arrives from the Cannon Green.
Parlain has arrived.

From the General Seating, Martin stands quickly as the verdict is given and
disappears out the door with his Shadow.

Martin leaves the General Seating.

Martin leaves the Courtroom for the Cannon Green.
Martin has left.

Caeciliah has disconnected.

Pers mutters to Boris, "Just... done.... is better than..."

"Of course not, Boris," Ophelia quips as she rises to her feet. "He didn't eat a
baby after all."

Pavel offers a parting glare to Boris as he turns and exits through the panel
behind the bench.

Anatole looks up towards the bench, "May I say one more thing publicly, Lord
Justicar? Before we all are dismissed?"

"Long Live the Emperor," says the Swordmaster beside Anatole. His hands clasp
behind his back, as he waits, simply. His jaw flexes at the comments from some
of the supposedly noble Siridari, but one can't always keep the jackals at bay.

Pavel hangs at the panel, not acknowledging Anatole, but not leaving either. His
silence is his acquiescence.

Boris rises, sadly. "Exiles are so...boring."

Justine rises from her seat and casts a disapproving glare at Boris, "T'was not
blood worthy, my Lord Baron." She then looks to Anatole, seeing what he has to
say now.

Scaurus raises his hand nobly to his chest, and rises in his place, "Long Live
the Emperor.." he intones, once again, bowing to Pavel. He then looks sideways
to Anatole, curious to see what other little tricks the Lord will attempt to
pull.

"Then why don't you hit the Ginaz up with charges of kidnapping," Ophelia
suggest in a saccharine tone, once more glancing to the Harkonnen end of the
row. "Perhaps that might prove more entertaining."

Pers merely smiles flatly, readjusting the collar of his cape. This is more
entertaining than might have otherwise been predicted...it's a shame about the
marmosets, though.

Anatole turns to the assembled crowd, but faces Jacob Ginaz directly. "You,
Marquis, I must speak to directly this day, for I may not have another chance,
save the meeting I hope we will have, quite soon. I, Lord Anatole Ciccolini,
challenge you, Marquis Jacob Ginaz, to a duel, defend your honor sir. You gave
me your word you would protect the Princess, and clearly you failed in that. I
demand retribution, unless the word of a Ginaz, is no good anymore and you are
afraid to back your words up with your steel?"

Martin arrives from the Cannon Green.
Martin has arrived.

An audible groan comes from the back of the room.

Martin leaves the Courtroom for the Cannon Green.
Martin has left.

Caro bites her lip and looks to Jacob for his response to Anatole's challenge.

Boris is about to give Ophelia a rejoinder, but he pauses as Anatole's words
ring out. Jacob, after all, is sitting directly in front of him. He can't help
but roll his eyes at the man's challenge.

Pavel stops dead in his tracks, returning to his perch in anticipation of
whatever may come next. He motions for the guards to be ready.

Jacob speaks evenly, and softly. "You are not worthy to die by my blade, Lord
Ciccolini. It would be like a tiger swatting a mouse. But if you feel that might
be better than a life of being buggered on a prison planet, perhaps I might
accommodate you." He looks up at Pavel, to see what he might rule.

Justine frowns slightly at Anatole's words, wondering why he's insisting on
making things worse than they already are. Her eyes quickly flicker back and
forth between the two men, watching the reactions and outcome.

Boris reseats himself. This is turning out to be much more interesting than he
hoped.

Scaurus purses his lips, turning to look at the Marquis Ginaz. The groan is
heard by Scaurus, who rolls his eyes, before turning to look at Pavel, showing
obvious disinterest in this show of masculine stupidity. He takes his leave of
the prosecution table, making his way with ivory cane in hand toward none other
than the Lady Garamond, muttering to himself, "He makes a mockery of the
Imperial Court with his little maneuvours..."

Anatole cannot hold his temper in check, not waiting to hear Pavel's words, "And
clearly you were not fit to marry the Princess! Were you still sleeping with my
cousin during the brief time of your marriage? Perhaps with your new consort as
well? Did you even care for Jenaa? Or perhaps you assisted the very man
responsible for this? I will have your head Ginaz!"

Martin arrives from the Cannon Green.
Martin has arrived.

Parlain enters discreetly, seaching the gallery for his Siridar-Marquis'
station, shared with the other retainers of House Ginaz. His seeming is coarse,
and his lips pursed in reflection, but even his practiced gait falters as his
lord addresses the accused and the assembled.

From the General Seating, Boris grins broadly. "Cousines, this is priceless." he
says merrily.

Pavel takes in a deep breath, and fairly growls at Anatole, "Your life is no
longer yours to offer up in challenge! You forfeited it the moment you broke the
law. Guards! Take him away!"

Justine's eyes flick to Scaurus when he speaks and frowns heavier as she motions
towards Anatole and mutters to Scaurus.

Jacob smiles serenely. "You will have nothing, just like you have now. You make
a mockery of everything you touch, and I will have none of it. Your challenge is
worthless, and I heed it not."

Justine mutters to Scaurus, "... you... of... is... love... her. Have pity...
the... Or..."

Pers mutters to Boris, "... he'll... go... the Contessa..."

Martin renters the room, retaking his seat. The colour is gone, but he watches
the events, having overhead most of the comments in the hall.

Scaurus looks momentarily hurt by Justine's words, the Treasurer's speech
suddenly slowing as he responds genuinely to her, "No. No I never have been..."
he says, looking away from the Lady to the Lord Anatole, and going strangely
silent. The Treasurer doesn't look half as pleased with the outcome as one might
imagine he would be.

Caro lets out a sigh of relief and glances around, wondering if it's just her
imagination or if the crowd is getting wild for the smell of blood.

The hiss of breath sucked in quickly sounds from the Moritani seating, as
Ophelia's eyes dart to Jacob and then Anatole, and narrow into a glare
immediately. "How dare you," she mutters quietly, though whether it be to Jacob
or to Anatole... no one can be sure. But then, her gaze fixes flatly on Anatole.
"Lord Anatole Dominic Ciccolini, Viscount of Cerignola," she begins, her chin
lifting and shoulders going back as she intones what can only be an official
declaration...

"You are not my cousin. You are not a Moritani. Your name will not be uttered on
Moritani soil ever again, and from the records it will be -stricken-!"

Parlain joins the General Seating.

Ulricke arrives from the Cannon Green.
Ulricke has arrived.

Justine's hand reaches out to the Imperial Treasurer, resting lightly on his
forearm as she whispers to him, "I'm very sorry, my Lord. Perhaps one day, this
will make sense to you."

Ulricke joins the General Seating.

Marco glares over at Anatole and gets to his feet showing a well placed scowl
fixed on his lips. Shoulder squared back on his body as his biceps bulge. No
doubt he has thought of doing something nasty to Anatole. He speaks to Ophelia
in a his own hissing voice, accented voice, "Let me kill him, I deserve
retribution for his trangressions against me." He looks to Ophelia with a half
pleading half stoic look.

With that final rebuke from his own Siridar, the guards grab hold of Anatole and
begin to move him from the courtroom, back into the doorway he first emerged
from.

Boris excitedly greets his daughter as she joins the spectators. "Uli! You've
missed the most wonderful fun!" he tells her.

Anatole turns to Ophelia, as the guards gather him up. His voice may have been
raised, but he has offered no struggle. "So be it cousin, for I never wished to
harm you, or this house." He turns to Jacob, "I care not what the Justicar says,
if I must strike at you from my own grave, I will do so Ginaz...unless you face
me, you will know no peace from me. Or has the Ginaz turned yellow in his old
age?"

Shane looks rather defeated, actually. He frowns, simply, as the guards brush
past him to get to Anatole, and he stands off to the side. His face is passive,
as he looks after Anatole, and hears the words from the Siridar.

"Control your entourage, Contessa, or you'll be striking more names from the
record than you have ink for," Pers advises, a bitter twinge in his voice. "Ah,
Lady Ulricke. Good day."

Pavel points to the door, the old man nearly beet red with rage, "OUT! And gag
him too so that I need not hear his madness! OUT!"

Jacob continues smiling serenely. "Death would be nicer than what you are about
to face."

Scaurus turns to look at Justine's touch, disturbance on his face. He then
notices Ulricke entering the Courtroom, and nods to her, rather formally, "Lady
Ulricke..." he says, raspily.

Ulricke looks disappointed. "I did? Is he going to be executed publically?" she
cheers at the thought of someone dying a horrible death. "Hullo, Viscount, Lord
Scaurus. Is it going to be torture, then?"

Parlain joins his lord, a Mentat's trained veneer barely concealing his roiling
rage. <<Once he has started on this path, he will see no recourse but to finish
it.>>

Boris shakes his head. "No, -exile-." he tells Ulricke with disappointment.

Ophelia looks to Marco, her face reddened and her composure slipping by inches
with every passing moment. "You heard the Ginaz... It was the wisest thing he's
been able to say all afternoon. He's -unworthy-. Though I perhaps might petition
His Majesty for an afternoon in the pain amplifier for him for his
transgressions against me this day. Drop it, then Marco, it's done."

From the General Seating, Caro says softly to Jacob, "It is his desperation
speaking, that is all." As Parlain approaches, she greets him with a sad smile.

Justine notices the expression on Scaurus' face and quickly retracts her hand
with flushed cheeks, muttering a very quiet apology before looking to Pers when
he greets the Lady Harkonnen.

From the General Seating, Jacob says to Caro, but loud enough for others to
hear,

MARMOSET!

(OOC) Pers says, "Sorry. Couldn't resist. I'll be good."

Scaurus shakes his head, clasping his hands behind his back, "Exile, Lady
Ulricke. To Salusa Secundus," he looks over to Boris, eyes saying 'I could
hardly ask for more..' before turning to Ulricke again, "I would not be
surprised if he finds himself upon a pike though, given the way he's riling up
the crowd..." in particular, he looks over to Ophelia and Marco.

Marco looks at Anatole being dragged out and slumping some. He turns back to
face Ophelia biting his lips with a sigh, "But my son?...."

"Is that all?" she says in disgust. "Imperial Justice is becoming far too soft
these days, Father." Then she ah's. "Well, that's a little bit better, except we
don't get to see him suffer." she almost...well, she /pouts/.

"We were considering providing the Justicar with an axe," Pers informs Ulricke
matter-of-factly, "To make up for the old one that your father and I were
remembering fondly. It had a large lion's head on the hilt, as I recall, and
some inscription on the blade itself."

Shane makes his way towards the Moritani contingent, his gaze flicking briefly
over to Scaurus, once, before they turn back to the assembled Siridari.

From the General Seating, Jacob says to Caro, but loud enough for others to
hear, "He is an insect flying into a hot glowglobe. A puff of raging smoke,
signifying nothing."

Boris tells Ulricke, "There, there. For dessert this evening., Daddy will have
Sen torture a slave to death for you. How about the one who stained the
tablecloth the other evening?"

And then, Scaurus suddenly leaps into a highly uncharateristic...smile. Directly
at Ulricke, he visibly beams, chuckling, but doesn't comment. Shane is glanced
at, and spared a polite nod, perhaps to show some form of goodwill?

Justine's head shakes slightly at the talk around her and decides that she's
dealt with enough blood lately. She offers a curt curtsey to those in her
presense and merely says, "Good evening, Lords and Ladies." before turning and
making her way towards the archway.

Martin sits quietly in his seat, he sighs to himself and calmly sits there
looking at his hands. The uproar around him becoming a quiet din in his ears.
Million thoughts straight runniing through his head, logic trying to build them
up in an order. He looks up at the crowd, a dead emotionless face.

Pers reaches out to tap Justine on the arm, giving her a warm smile and a nod
before she departs.

After gathering up his papers, the Justiciar turns from the crowd again and
heads through the panel behind the bench, his business /finally/ concluded.

Pavel disappears behind the Justiciar's bench.
Pavel has left.

Justine either ignores Pers or doesn't notice the tap, continuing out the door.

Justine leaves the Courtroom for the Cannon Green.
Justine has left.

Ulricke says quite pointedly, "Well /I/ think the Marquis should have lopped his
head off. No, that's too quick. There's a lovely sweeping move that practically
dissects the vitals in one stroke. He could have done that...of course it might
stain his clothing..." she muses.

Caro allows her gaze to wander, now that the threat of a duel has passed. She
smiles shyly in Ulricke's direction.

Jacob turns to Ulricke slightly, offering. "A blow from my hilt to his temple
would suffice. I'd not taint my blade on the likes of him."

Wilhelm arrives from the Cannon Green.
Wilhelm has arrived.

Still quite red in the face, Ophelia doesn't reply to Marco's question. She
blandly looks to the Swordmaster, and then Martin, her head shaking. "I think
I've had enough of this circus.. There are other things to attend to. Prices to
raise on certain things, decrees to issue, and expeditions and weddings to
plan..."

Boris nods to Jacob. "Quite right, my lord, quite right! All that begging and
whining he did was most unseemly!"

Emylie leaves the General Seating.

Scaurus blinks at Justine's departure, clasping his hands behind his back,
"Perhaps you might excuse me, Viscount, Baron...my lady," he nods to all three,
then looks at Ulricke, "If you would care for it, Lady Harkonnen, perhaps you
and your father would join me in a hunt in the Imperial Reserve...although the
creatures do not meet up with standards on Giedi Prime, they offer some
enjoyment," he smiles, lopsidedly, looking between father and daughter, then to
Jacob, "I am sure Her Highness would agree completely, Your Excellency..." he
says, almost as a quip, before turning to depart.

Emylie strolls down the aisle, nodding once to Caro as she passes.

Emylie leaves the Courtroom for the Cannon Green.
Emylie has left.

Wilhelm enters and looks around for his Siridar, being certain to be quiet as
not to disturb the proceedings to much.

Ulricke oh's! "Lady Zaug!" she flutters a hand - now mind you all, fluttering
her hand like that would normally be suited only for a frill bedecked simpering
sycophant of a woman dressed in the massive weight of high court finery - and
yet Ulricke manages to make the gesture work. "We simply must get together my
dear...I'm sure we have tons to talk about." And then to Jacob. "There is that.
But you could have had an underling cut his thoat. It takes a long time to die
when your throat's cut." She blinks at him, eyes a brilliant aquamarine. "Ah,
Lord Scaurus, if my father bids it so, we shall be glad to attend."

Shane looks to Ophelia. "I will stay behind currently," he offers for the
moment. "If you'll forgive me," he says pleasantly. "I will be along shortly."
He looks to the audience still about, hands clasped behind his back, posture
rather stiff as he listens.

Adrick leaves the Courtroom for the Cannon Green.
Adrick has left.

"I believe it's time for that late lunch," Pers opines to the general public,
offering the Baron and his daughter an amiable parting nod. Summoning his
entourage with a single word in Alvst, the Viscount departs.

Pers leaves the Courtroom for the Cannon Green.
Pers has left.

Boris asks Scaurus, apparently with some disbelief, "You hunt, my lord
Treasurer?"

Marco turns watching as Ophelia ignores him. Slowly he chakes his head and
glances over at the entering Chancellor and nodding to him.

Martin does not move or react if the words where directed to him. He simplely
stares off into space. A nudge from his Shadow brings the world crashing back
down on him. He simplely gives a nod and stands from his seat.

Ophelia offers Shane only a brief nod as she passes him by, and then fixing
Wilhelm with one of those -looks- as she nears him. Hide the fine china, ladies
and gentlemen, the Moritani embassy is about to get hit with a real doozy of a
twister. The Moritani rage rides again.

Scaurus stops, a few steps from where he originally was, turning to look at the
Baron, "I can hardly claim to be terribly apt at it, my lord, but yes, I have a
small collection of trophies. My schedule does not give much room for enjoyable
sports such as hunting, and unfortunately, Kaitain is no Giedi Prime. The
animals here are...somewhat limited," he says, bearing a wolfish grin, before
turning again to leave.

Caro can only nod in agreement with Ulricke's statement, as conversation is
almost impossible with everyone speaking at once, but she continues to smile and
allows her gaze to go wandering again.

        Unnoticed by most, an unrecognized noblewoman from the back of the court
room casts one last encompassing glance over the chamber, before silently
leaving. A whispered murmur is varyingly heard by those near her as, "And so the
lone lily falls to the lion's discontented claw.."

Alexandra leaves the Courtroom for the Cannon Green.
Alexandra has left.

Boris tells Scaurus, "We'd be pleased to attend the hunt, my lord."

Parlain shakes his head, as if to clear it of the fog of these boomerang
procedings. He regards his Marquis itnently, as if weighing the future of Ginaz,
and this man in particular. His gaze flits to Caro, as if seeking some silent
betrayal, and for Ulricke. <<The Wheels of the Empire 'er do turn.>>

Scaurus leaves the Courtroom for the Cannon Green.
Scaurus has left.

Wilhelm takes in a deep breath, steeling himself for what is about to come. With
a nod, more to himself, he advances to greet his liege. "Excellency... it would
appear I have missed the trial altogether. My deepest apologies."

Jacob looks down slightly and then up at Ulricke. "He'll get more than I could
give on Salusa Secundus, after all."

Ratner arrives from the Cannon Green.
Ratner has arrived.

Ulricke smiles at Jacob, purring to him, "I wouldn't know about that, Marquis.
You're quite creative when you put your mind to it." She makes it sound like
they're talking about something else entirely.

The Chancellor's words give Ophelia's retreating footsteps pause, as she glances
at him with an eyebrow raised. "You've missed much of late, it seems," she
murmurs quietly, a chill edge to her voice, and turns to continue on her way
out. Quickly, before she says anything /else/ she might regret.

You leave the Courtroom for the Cannon Green.



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