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"I may not be able to drink, but I will join," Zeno approached the punch to toast. "Perhaps I can give it to that one over there?"

His index finger, thick and furry with a long copper-clad steel claw tipping it, was directed at Yll'r. "I'm sorry, I didn't get your name. But you can have my glass."

The mech turned to Kolt, saying in an upbeat voice, "A simplified but not inaccurate assessment. I am a Dreadnought-class mech, serial code LQ-4986iV UG with a conversational interface. I do a lot of arena fighting on Earth, or Eden as some may call it, and I am famous because I am the only mech ever recorded with a power score of over two thousand, where some pilots have entire hangers full of over ten mechs that only reach about 1500."

As far as Yll'r was concerned, the party was going great and they had certainly succeeded in playing their part in the 'punch' ritual. That was one thing to cross off the party to-do list. Satisfied, they bobbed up above the heads of the other guests and began circling, pausing when they realised they were being addressed. "Oh, I have already partaken in the punch ritual," they declared. "What use would I have for such a small receptacle of it? I dare say I cannot fit much more than a tentacle or two in there. I am Yll'r. Hello." The llaa-synn twirled around as though they had spoken the various aspects of that conversation in the right order.

"Sorry," Cinder claimed with not only a clearly concerned expressions, but a face dripping with punch now. They looked at the droid, who presumably ignored them, then turned about to apologize a second time to Gabriela, this time sheepishly, and with some guilt in their tone, "Sorry, I am not familiar with drinking traditions, I thought this was what we're all supposed to do....[/b}

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head as another guest plunges their face into the punch before it's mercifully swept away by a mechanical attendant. He thanks Gabriela with a half bow and swipes a glass off of the pyramid in order to help himself to the face-free alcoholic punch.

A toast does sound pretty good. He turns to watch Yll'r, frankly quite curious what sort of wish they'd offer to toast to.

"If you insist," Another approving nod. "Pleasure to meet you. You may call me Zeno."

The non-alcoholic punch was gone now. Probably for the better, Zeno figured. "If anyone would like a refill after the toast, do let me know."

Gabriela's smile is frozen on her face, realizing she may have just caused a diplomatic incident with not one but two alien races. "Oh, no no no," she assures Cinder. "This toasting ritual is an Earth tradition, but the, uhm, punch bathing ritual is something new that we are trying as part of llaa-synn/human relations. We are most assuredly honored that you have participated as well. In fact --" She sounds confident, but her smile is really frozen now. She snaps her fingers at the droid that was just starting to roll off to follow Yll'r, summoning it back. Setting her glass down on the edge of the table, she takes the punch bowl from the droid, staring down at it with an almost manic expression. "I will of course not hesitate to participate in this newly minted tradition myself." And with that, she plunged her head into the punch bowl.

"As for my wish. It is my wish that this party sufficiently fulfils all of criteria I have come to expect from my research," Yll'r declared. "And that I may meet many new people. On this endeavour. Is that within the expected boundaries? Also is there caramelised bread involved? Or has there been an error in my translator?"

The Laavian appreciates the words Gabriela offers them, but they're unsure they should participate in the next ritual. It's another drinking ritual, and so far all Cinder knows is not to bathe in the liquids. A wish, however, was something they could manage. Quickly they grabbed a glass and filled it, unsure what they'd do with it once the wish was made. Holding the glass high, they exclaimed with much vigor, "I wish for the end of war, and the end of oppression." It seems like a good wish to them, if not inappropriately timed, anyway.

The man laughs, bright and mirthful, and raises his glass to the offered toast. "To research and merriment," he proposes, echoing the sentiments of the jelly-creature.

"Cool." he said, with an unconcealed grin. "I've battled in the arena some back on my homeworld, myself--but I'm not sure I'd want to take you on! That sounds like a load of firepower. I'd love to see that in action. But, er maybe not here." he added, with a short laugh. "I'd hate to see the look on milady's face if I was the reason this place exploded into a million tiny pieces."

"Oh, I didn't give you my name--I'm Kolt. Kolt Gavryn. and this is Cryostryker." he said, introducing the spear that hovered at his shoulder, which gave a little dip as if giving a bow. "She doesn't really talk--" the spear gave a slight whistle of indignation at this. "--Well, not really with words, anyway, but she can do... this!"

With that, he raised his arm up into the air, holding his palm flat. The spear flew up on top and started to spin like the needle on a compass, spraying tiny, glittery ice shards in a wide radius around them--harmless, but very, very cold to the touch.

Lifting her head back out of the punch bowl, dripping with citrusy juice, Gabriela hastily shoves the punch bowl back into the droid's mechanical claws and shooes it away. Hosting a party for aliens is turning out to be way more complicated than she had thought. But she can't stop tap dancing yet -- she immediately grabs her glass off the table and raises it high. "A toast to a great party!" she announces, doing just a tiny bit of translating for Yll'r, and then tosses back her very much alcoholic drink.

As another wish is offered, she refills her glass with the ladle, and repeats in a loud voice for all to hear, "A toast to the end of war and oppression!" This time, she takes a more measured sip, and continues on to "To research and merriment!" for one more sip.

A droid rolls up to the buffet table and quietly replaces the non-alcoholic punch bowl with a fresh batch.

Zeno had begun to fill his glass. Well, not necessarily his glass, but one he could use for the wish.

"I wish... to find my place in this universe." With that, he raises his glass to the sky. "To companionship!"

Yll'r slowly twists their head around in various directions, tentacles eventually following in a fluid wave of motion. Whilst the llaa-synn had no blindspots in electromagnetic perception, something was definitely missing here. Why, these toasts were being declared, but there was no sign of any actual toast being deposited anywhere. How curious!

He chuckled, saying, "Impressive! Watch this;" Not trying to one-up Cryostryker, but he did have his own trick. He steadied himself as his vents opened, thin wisps of flame appearing as yellow energy emanated from him. The lights on the ship all turned doubly bright, and a shining yellow at that. Everything seemed... more energized. After a few seconds, he deactivated the ability, saying, "Overcharger; all mechanical entities within a fifty-meter radius of the charge conduit gain an extra 100% to their current energy reserves for the duration of them staying within the field of overcharge, increasing speed, reload times, and ability refresh times, as well as boosting damage output." He monologues slightly.

Yll'r seemed to immediately flinch at the increase in lighting - and maybe other electro-magnetic signals that might have been affected that others could not as easily perceive. They dropped a good metre of so of hover height in process. When all was over they shook it off and spread their tentacles in a posture of uncertainty. "What in the name of all that radiates was that? The sudden increase in electromagnetic activity was painful! Is that... is that normal here?" They rubbed the top of their head with a tentacle as though they now head a headache. Which in a manner of speaking was true.