"Isn't it Life Day, not 'Sithmas'?" Adem asked Mks and Zakath, who had stopped at the Citadel's throne room doors. Crisscrossing the doors were makeshift garlands and strings of cheap electric lights, some of which blinked and flashed according to design while others flickered uncontrollably.

"The Conzul liked thiz name better." Zakath replied flatly.

"If I remember correctly, Life Day is specifically a Wookiee holiday. The rest of the galaxy has adopted it on occasion. Atty may simply prefer originality," Mks elaborated. "Besides, Sithmas drinks are considerably better than what most places will give you. Two cups last year, and I woke up in a wrapped box underneath a tree."

Adem whistled and raised his eyebrows at the thought. Zakath pushed the doors open, and what was moments ago thumping vibrations became clear and cheerful music. Where in the galaxy did all of these trees come from? There were at least three between each of the columns, some stretching several meters toward the ceiling, and some shorter than Adem, provided they hadn't toppled over onto the floor. They were dressed from stem to tip with various trinkets and garlands, some of which stretched between the trees.

The tables were arrayed in a line down the center of the room leading all the way up to the throne. Which is to say that some tables were actually angled up the stairs with the food creatively positioned in such a way that they would not slide down, and the Shadow Lady could use the Serpentine Throne for a dinner chair as well as a seat of power.

"Would you believe we're only fifteen minutes into the party?" she called from across the room. Zakath clamped his jaws on a drumstick from the table as he strode down the aisle, and by the time Adem had looked at Mks since walking in, the Miraluka was already halfway through his first drink. A confused looking Ryn was walking on top of the tables, though no one seemed interested in convincing him to come down. Adem climbed up himself, grabbing a cup and scooping it into the punch bowl, as the social climate demanded, then dumped a sizable amount of sugar inside. The taste was something akin to extraordinarily sweet battery acid, but it went down.

Adem watched the Ryn sit down in a bowl of stuffing. He reacted slightly, then continued drinking undeterred. He reminded Adem of Bo on nights he was bound and determined to become inebriated, but Bo didn't make as much of a sport of it. Adem sat near him, taking care to make sure he was sitting on tablecloth and not food, and nodded at the Ryn.

"Kor-*hic*dath." he replied, raising his drink in greeting and tipping some onto his shirt. Adem took another swig of the vile holiday spirits himself, feeling welcome enough for the time being.