"Well, I hope your return is pleasant for you rather than heartbreaking," Sunder replies with a curt nod, raising one eyebrow in a very princessy way at the hooded figure that exchanges a few brief words with Magtok. No doubt there's something important going on here. Truth be told, Sunder never really paid a great deal of attention to Magtok, nor to any of the important big names of the Nexus. Back when that sort of thing was relevant she sure wasn't. She takes her leave for now, trotting over to the refreshment table and offering polite compliments on people's costumes.

She was never that great at the whole social thing.

Her job was so much easier when it consisted of being pointed at stuff her friends needed smashed.

Really...

She's half-way expecting that reporter Myrrh Balm told her about to show up and start grilling her.

Like...

Try catching her when she's doing something else.

Catch her with her guard down. Or whatever it is reporters do. Report on stuff, Sunder thinks? Gotta talk to people first before the actual talking head on TV part happens.

But now? Now she's got important stuff to consider.

Mostly how much alcohol she should put in her punch.