Celeste groaned, her metallic legs lightly clanging against the equally metallic seat beneath her. How long had they been on this trip to some criminal meeting that they had been only just given notice to and whisked off towards by her sisters. 'I'm going to have Leandra whipped for this.' She thought gravely, knees now tucked up tight against her chest after Iyvera, her guard captain, had shot her a pleading look to stop it. 'And then I'm going to have you whipped!' Celeste thought after, shooting a glare at her guard captain before starting up a hum to distract herself from her annoyance at the sheer lack of stimulation around. She picked up a datapad mid-hum, flicking around the many different videos of Helia's current torture in the dungeons of The Fountain Palace. That old woman, the hardy once Matriarch of House Orican, could surprisingly take the harshest beatings that Celeste could dish out. Her flicking led to one such moment, the mechanical woman plucking out nail after pretty nail from her hands and feet before tearing out a patch hair and bloody scalp. Even the most advanced torture methods that the Republic had taught her did little to phase the woman, a superheated blaster barrel from multiple bouts of firing upon the inner side of the thigh? Nothing. Agonizingly low set vibroknives that made each cut an excruciating experience for however long the blade drug against skin? Not even the slightest reaction other than tears.
Celeste sighed once more, a mechanical finger drawing circles around her favorite prisoner's beaten face. "I wish that there were more people as hardy as she. More filthy traitors to a nice, thin veneer upon the chairs that they sit upon, to feel their bones crush from each blow." The Queen Mother bit her lip, a slight heat rising in her chest before she caught Iyvera shooting a concerned sidelong glance. "So I can have them give us information on our enemies, my dear captain! Nothing else..." She said as voice trailed off and her gaze once again settled on the video of her interrogation, a small lick of her lips following after.
Lost in her videos she felt the starship shudder around her and only then did she deign to look up, her eyes just barely clearing the control panel of the cockpit to gaze out at the vast temple. "This is why I hate criminals," she said more to herself than anyone around her as she stood and wrapped a thin shawl around her form, "they can never build anything themselves that looks half decent." Celeste added after, grabbing Bertair from the pilot's chair with only a small grunt from him as an answer.
Together the two went into the extravagant bedroom on the ship towards a bed filled to the brim with every kind of dress that one of Hapan descent could ever dream of wearing. Quick as a flash she went between every which one, holding it in from of her before shaking her head to herself and going to another. Bertair watched, stunned, and did his best to offer what little of his opinion he could shoot out before she went on to the next. How she managed to grab, hold and then spot her next target in what felt like a manner of a few seconds was a mystery to the servant, but he wasn't one to ask. He looked back while the storm of a woman kept switching through dresses, seeing Iyvera there at the doorway and asking her with a pleading look for help, seeing only the woman's back as she went to go prepare her own disguise. Suddenly the swirling mess whose name was Celeste stopped at one, single dress and held it up to see it fully. It was the last dress that her mother had worn to see her off when she was sent off to learn from the Republic. Away from her life, from her beloved mother and the two sisters that meant all to her in her life.
She undressed suddenly, her shawl dropping down to her metal ankles as she waited for Bertair to come close and help her dress. "Your mother looked splendid in it," he offered her as he took the single strap of the gorgeous, almost pearlescent blue dress, "and you'll look even better." Bertair spoke with a smile, securing the single strap tight to her left shoulder before bringing up the right side just under the synthskin of her metallic armpit.
The woman he knew as Queen Mother turned, facing him in a dress that tightly hugged her curves, silver hair cascading down her shoulders to cover the exposed skin of her neck. "See? The most gorgeous girl that I've ever seen in my whole life! Now let's find that mask of yours and we'll be off to the party."
Bertair felt bad for the poor girl, even after all this time she still felt pain at her mother's vacancy from her life and wore a mask in her image; even if it was simply a mask of the many Queen Mothers of Hapes, but all contained an eerie resemblance to one another that the man could never quite place. Regardless, he found the odd heirloom resting on a pillow next to the one that Celeste slept upon and handed it over. Celeste spent little time securing it to her features, fitting like a perfectly made glove as the metal settled and all that could be seen past the exquisite metal and jewels was a pair of icy blue eyes that mimicked the sapphires upon the mask. With Bertair in tow, dressed up just as much as his Queen Mother was, and soon Iyvera who joined the two shortly after their departure from the bedroom, the three walked down the ramp and into the lavish landing pad that surrounded them.
"At least they can figure out how to greet others." Celeste whispered to Bertair, a small smile spreading on the man's lips at what she said. "Now let's see if we can strike an accord with this new, so-called 'crime lord'. I can't wait to see just how much slime this one oozes."