User blog comment:SCORNFUL1/Audience With A Vampire: Ask Armata De'Sange/@comment-28358106-20171226071958

Armata looms upon his throne, the weight of unspoken destinies resting on his pensive brow. Imperia stands close, as always, ready to enact her Lord's will.

He feels it long before it appears. Even still, it does so with little fanfare. A portal, etched with deep magics and Infernal colors, opens in the middle of the throne room floor, a purple pupil in the middle of an onyx eye.

From it, Adelaide rises. The portal shuts, even as she begins to fuss.

"Gracious." Chuckling to herself, her manicured hand smooths the wrinkled cut of her slitted dress. "Millenia in perfection of its use, and yet the shortest portal shows no mercy where static concerns itself." With a final satisfied pat, she straightens and, folding her hands in a diplomatic manner and with her trademark smile, gives successive nods to the both of them, starting with Imperia.

"Lady Imperia." A half turn. "Most High Lord.  I do hope you will forgive the manner of my arrival."