Emerging from the shadows in the hangar's entrance, Ashford moved towards the gathered retinue members. Even though she was wearing the robes of a Famulous, a long black mixture of dress and robe, inconspiciously reinforced with armour plating, and obviously just as much suited to a ball as to any other social function, she still seemed to insist on wearing her power sword and bolt pistol, the ornate sheath at her hip and the white gun's holster at her opposite leg, flittering in and out of sight like a faulty video feed as the layered black lower half of her robes moved forwards and backwards like a shroud of silky blackness from which on occasion, a fabric-covered leg emerged, only to be absorbed back inside again. "Overtly bearing arms and armour where they are not clearly ornate is a sign of caution, or aggression. And to give our suspect cause to see either in our intent would become a spark to ignite open hostilities, or suspicion. The Inquisitor ordered not to be overt in our actions, and thus we will not be." Standing between those she considered under her authority, the Sister pushed one streak of her long black hair behind her ear. "That should quell any debate about weapons and armour. Though your case is special, Commissar; a Commissar without armament is just as suspicious and worthy of contempt as a Guardsman without his Primer."
"Of course, and that is why my armor will be on the ship, but my arms will be by my side." He patted the footlocker. "I see you are ready for this regal event. That is a very well designed dress, only one who knows what to look for would see the armor."
"My armour is ornate" as sigmus spoke he put his cigar out and picked his helm up from the clamp at the belt "an astartee should always wear armor in the service of the inquisitor" as he spoke he put his helm on "or so i was told by my mentor"
"Truly, a smart decision", she commented on the Catachan's interjection. "As always, you look... impeccable." The Sister's grey eyes narrowed, her gaze moving over the man. But she knew he was a soldier, not a diplomat, and even if it was distasteful, his appearance could be forgiven. Turning to address the Astartes, her disapproving face did not change as she spoke in her usual calm and slightly hateful tone. "Even an Astartes can wear ornate robes... Though the question would be, would an unarmoured Astartes be less threatening than an armoured one? You are the Emperor's finest truly, but in battles at court you are dangerously unpredictable variables." Ashford took a long breath and moved her gloved hands, small, with delicate fingers sheathed in black leather, to her forehead, a gesture of exasperation. She knew everyone here was competent, and it was not her place to disagree with her mentor, who had handpicked her from many other people in the world. She was grateful that she did not have to serve with nobles at court any longer. In fact, her criticism of the crew was her version of helping them in her function as a social advisor. Finally, she looked to the previously-addressed Commissar, and cocked her head. "The Emperor protects, and all of our sisters are warriors at heart. The armouring is just as much symbol of this as it is useful. Were it not covert, however, the people would feel threatened by our presence. We Famulous need to be impeccably dressed at any social function, so our orders' robes tend to be..." She paused to look for the right word, "...fashionable."
- Prax "Your input is most appreciated." Prax said without any show of emotion, just staring blankly at Iron Fist. Then blinking his natural eye and turning to face the hanger entrance, as if waiting for someone. "Does that include my Omnissian Axe, Ashford? Might I add, your tailor does adequate work." Little did some realize, than when anything was functioning just above the adequate reading was a very complimentary in the Mechanicum. Unfortunately this might not translate well with all. Prax continued to stare blankly at the entrance.
"I am no diplomat and as such i know litle on what you would see as ornate armor" as he spoke he placed his hand on his cheast and then spoke again "this armor has been passed down to me from brothers who have passed on" as he spoke he then tapped his healm "this was passed to me by a marine who died infront of me when i was a scout"
"It is a symbol of office, I presume? If so, then yes, it is adequate to take along. It certainly looks like fine craftsmanship." As if to strengthen her approval nonverbally, she slowly nodded her head. "The work of the Order of the Key's serfs is magnificient indeed, and a testament to their faith. I would prefer to work with fewer frills if my occupation allowed it, and at times, envy my Sisters Militant for their constant wearing of armour, however." "I meant no disrespect", she offered, still mostly emotionless, "Your armour's story is only relevant to those who know it, and most people only care for what is en vogue on this or that court, not the war tales of a living demigod. All I meant to imply is that your presence is a reminder of the fact that the world is definitely not safe, not perfect, not peaceful, and all these are truths nobles and their sycophants dislike to hear."
"Why thank you for the complement I hope things dont get to hairy I wish to return this garb in the best condition I can but if a fight happens I shall apologize to the inquisitor for ruining this gift" nods head "and no problem techy" he belives the tech priest was being kind but in his odd own way
"Well, today we are sitting both in the same boat. Even your Sisters Militant such as me have to forgo their armour. At least you seem to have some sort of explanation for carrying your weapons, which is something I can not say for myself. I have to leave my weapons in the Apuilla." She waved with the case.
