The Fontana Summit

[Traxit]

The abrupt manoeuvre caught Tomas by surprise even though Moretti was in his field of vision, he glares his eyes wide until finally relaxing after the thump. "I uhm.." He clears his throat ".. I appreciate it, Mister Moretti. Please, call me Tomas. Testament is just some absurd moniker I picked for the Neural Nets, ya'know, anonimity and all." Ending with an audible shrug, he grabs his ice-cold refreshment and toasts with a smile towards Moretti "Cheers."

With the open invitation to ransack the table a prudent hand grapples a batch of napkins to put by his side, leaning in forward to hunch over with both his elbows on the table, each hand with a different kind of Luxury Food, despite the sudden shift in body language, he keeps his lip-smacking to a minimum while chewing politely.

Finally, he looks at Moretti yet again while nodding repeatedly to approve of the "finger(s)-food".

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As the barrage of gloomy and dark guests spewed through the chamber doors he immediately finishes whats in his grasp before taking the stackload of napkins to clean his gluttony away.

To each of the male guests, he gives a quick nod, but to the girls, he adapts to a half-smile, so as to not seem intense.

Tomas resumes his leaning posture towards Moretti's direction, while darting his eyes around the many new faces, anxious for the Alliance Commander to get to business as tensions rise with each passing second. To ease up, the ice-cold cup is sipped at random intervals.

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