//------------------------------//
// Dinner and a Show 
// Story: Blacklight: Dead Man Walking 
// by The Salesman 
//------------------------------//

	Deadman tensed as soon as he saw the mass of ponies began flooding the room, all rushing to take up their spots at a table.
As the massive wave continued, he shifted into a more tactical mindset after beating down on his urge to flip the table and retreat to a spot out of the public eye. 
He noted that there was, despite the size of the fancy tables, a significant lack of ponies compared to the amount that he had spotted earlier when he did his initial HRV scan of the castle. He struggled to come up with an explanation for this, before he came to the most obvious realization; those that were here were obviously the elite of the castle. With this realization in mind, he took a look at the three other tables throughout the room.
One was occupied which he could only imagine as nobles, given their choice of clothing as well as the presence of what he assumed were personal servants, given their more plain dress, and the fact they were all standing beside one particular figure or another, never taking a seat.
At another table sat what he guessed were military, given their general uniformity of colour, as well as their posture and general orderliness compared to the other groups.
The last he was far less sure about, they had neither the opulent suits and ties of the nobles, nor the uniformity of the military. If he had to guess, they would be the heads of various departments which took care of the expansive area, as he could see no other roles which would be represented here.
With all this in mind, he looked over the crowd and debated whether or not he making a break for it and throwing whoever got in his way at the military would slow their action or make them act faster.
Before he could plot any further, he noticed multiple sets of eyes were looking up from their tables, and glancing at him, before turning back to the other occupants at their own table. At roughly the same time, he began to hear the whispers of the various occupants discussing things among themselves quietly, and he had no doubt as to what the subject of these discussions was.
Then a chorus of sound filled the room as some previously unnoticed heralds trumpeted for some reason or another, causing him to almost kick the table forward to take cover.
Breathing in deeply, he looked towards the door to see a lone unicorn walking through into the dining hall.
"Prince Blueblood of Equestria," he heard a loud voice, presumably one of the heralds announce.
Blueblood proceeded to trot across the room, an obviously faked smile upon his face, as he neared the table, Deadman silently prayed he was wary enough of the presence of an unknown being to not sit by him.
As Blueblood went around the back of the table, Deadman's hopes were quickly crushed as he heard the chair next to him slide back, prompting a sigh unheard outside of his armour.
Just then, he heard the same herald say "Ambassador Ironbeak of Gryphonia."
Refocusing on the entrance, Deadman saw, surprise surprise, a gryphon. He could honestly say that he was not surprised to see that a lion screwed an eagle, considering he was in a land which has talking ponies with wings and horns ruling over castles.
The old-looking gray and brown gryphon marched down towards the table, glancing over at either him or one of ponies beside him; it was hard for him to tell given that one of the gryphon's eyes was blind. Soon enough, the gryphon circled around the other side and sat a few seats down from Luna.
"Captain Shining Armour of Equestria," the very same herald announced once more, this time leading into another white unicorn entering the room, although this one seemed much more legitimately happy, and less... douchey was the only way he could put it. As he neared, though, Deadman could see hints of the same march that the military had coming out. He was no Captain simply born in the position, it seems.
Deciding that this wasn't going to get any more interesting than it already was, Deadman turned on his HRV again. He would deal with the rest of the bullshit this planet it would bring when he had to, he would see if there was anything interesting happening elsewhere.

Looking around the castle, he could see a few other pockets of population in castle, although he could also see a few groups of guards patrolling.
He did not look over his shoulder to check behind him, however, he had to make it at least seem like the ponies of this room interested him more than the stonework on the wall behind him.
He turned it back off and snapped to a better posture as he heard a loud voice; he turned to the far end of the table to see Luna saying "Good citizens of Canterlot, today we have the great honour to once again come into contact with a new species. As so many great diplomats before have come to Canterlot before, the time has come again to welcome a new representative to the world at large. With us today we have this figure, who I assure you will live up to your expectations for a figure whose actions have such weight." Did she just call him fat and pin all the moral obligations of a diplomat on him? He glared at Luna, with it safely concealed beneath his helmet. "May I introduce Deadman of the Blacklight Agency!" she finished, and turned to him.
Looking out into the crowd, he saw every set of eyes on him. The last time this many eyes were on him was during an "Onslaught" operation, and then he was expected to mow them down with his LMG. That memory was not helping his stress levels at all. The fact that they had also closed the doors over gave him the odd feeling of they were trying to lock him in, but his rational mind discounted that possibility.
However, his Agency was counting on him to make a good first impression, and he was going to do it the best he could, following Blacklight protocol to the damned letter.
Deadman pushed his chair back and stood his LMG in his arms, before standing up. Glancing around for any signs of panic, and seeing none, he started the speech he was making up on the fly to fit protocol.
"Greetings on the behalf of everyone at the Blacklight Agency," he said, "My codename, as you know, is Deadman, and I am pleased to represent my agency here in this new land. As per Blacklight doctrine, I plan on helping to ensure peace as much as any one man is able to through any means at my disposal. I would like to thank the Government of Equestria for allowing me temporary residence within the country, until which time I can work out further operational details with headquarters. Upon that time I shall continue to advocate peace and the safety of civilians, as the agency I represent always has. Thank you for your ears, eyes, and hearts, Citizens of Canterlot."
He sat back down at that, and took a look around the room, to notice that no one was voicing their disgust at some slip up, or their anger at some cultural slight, or even unease at his 'promises', in fact, a few of them were stomping their hooves on the floor from their low chairs.
Then a few more.
And then the entire room was filled with the sound of the stomping of hooves.
He was almost certain this was some sort of call for blood before he took a look at their faces, and saw general approval not the least bit hidden.
Holy shit, that actually worked? He was shocked beyond all measure, last time he had spoken to civilians he had almost caused a riot. There was a reason that they got Deacon or Lazarus to speak in the instances it was required rather than him.
Several seconds later, the stomping quit, and the room went quiet again. With that massive load off of his chest, he breathed out a breathe he did not know that he was holding. If he were any older, that would have made his heart go far more surely than conflict with The Order ever would.
"Then without further ado, let the Royal Weekly Evening Meal begin," a voice to his other side said, which he was certain was Celestia.

As soon as she finished her speech polite conversation began at low volumes both at this table and the others before the doors at the entrance swung open as quite a few of the castle staff entered through the doors holding various metal platters, the metal tops of which obscured the food which was on them. They filed through the room they placed various platters on the tables, all filing up and through until all of the trays has been placed upon the table. Oddly enough, though, not one was placed on the higher table which the high figures and himself were sitting at.
His curiosity was soon invalidated as a few larger and more opulent covered platters came through the door. He watched intently as the servers carried the plates towards them and up the stairs of the dias. All the plates were summarily placed upon the table from the front, and the most of the servers left, closing the door behind them once more and leaving a small contingent behind.
He turned his head slightly to the left, and glanced out of the corner of his eye at Twilight, and saw her taking repeated notes under the table while occasionally flicking her eyes over in his direction before returning to her notes again with the... levitating feather and inkwell she had stashed under the table. He was never going to get used to that telekinesis crap, he would have to ask them later about what they were using to do accomplish it. Not Twilight though, he could sense that would end in a lecture and him spending more time in contact with a civilian than needed. Looking over to the pink princess he had heard referred to as Cadance, he quickly drew the conclusion that she may be the better one to ask; if they were to ever meet during other circumstances, he could ask his question.

The servers from earlier moved up towards the front of the room, and lifted the large lids off of the plates, revealing various vegetarian dishes, as well as... did that dish have some sort of tofu looking substance, and that other one spaghetti?
He glanced towards the other end of the table to confirm his suspicions, and yes, yes they did.
He subconsciously licked his lips as memories of his bachelor days began flooding back, where he would gorge on those two things since they were cheap in his old area.
Well, the bottom of the barrel crap he got from a super store was cheap, at least, which fit with his general spending habits.
Looking around the room, he saw the already removed lids contained far less variety in the foods than the table in front of him. Mostly, he would say that this was due to the generally vegetarian diet compared to up here, which although still vegetarian, branched out a tiny bit more from the greens and beans which he was seeing.
His hypothesis was that this was either to appease the gryphon ambassador or to guess his own tastes.
Regardless of the reasoning, he was going to try his damnedest to enjoy it.
Glancing around the table, he saw various attendants, one to each of the "high" diners, who seemed to be in conversation with the corresponding diners, likely acquiring their preferences for their meals.
Spotting movement out of the corner of his eyes, he turned to see a lone brown unicorn standing still on the over side of the table. He really should have noticed him earlier, it seemed like he was too busy being an overly introspective idiot, he mused.
"You are here to acquire food items for me, correct?" Deadman questioned.
"Yes,' sir," the attendant simply said. Deadman had a feeling he was going to like the staff here if they were all this professional.
"I take it the white substance is a food item by the name of 'tofu', correct?"
"Yes, sir," the attendant repeated. Deadman nodded, he wasn't even going to bother to question how the hell everything was named like back home, he had reached his threshold for caring about that stuff at approximately the same time he had prepared for a siege by a group of ponies.
"Then I would like tofu, spaghetti, and garlic toast if it is currently available," Deadman stated.
The unicorn telekinetically lifted up the plate, and said "Very good, sir," as he left for down the table, where the food he had asked for was.

“So you must be that new warrior from elsewhere that auntie told me would be joining us for dinner tonight," said a pony to his side, which he had assumed must have been Blueblood.
"Aye, that would be me," he said, looking to the side to face the source.
The unicorn he had not paid too much attention to due to boredom earlier was a pristine snow white, and wearing a suit with his blond mane carefully teased into a hairstyle which was far out of the norm compared to the other styles of manes he had seen while he was here. "I am quite the warrior too, you know?" Blueblood said.
"That's nice for you," Deadman said as he glanced around, seeing if his attendant was going to be back soon.
"What? You don't believe me?" Blueblood incredulously questioned.
"I never said that," Deadman stated.
"I'll have you know that I captured three changelings during their invasion of Canterlot!" Blueblood said, how offended he was at someone not stroking his ego showing in his voice.
"Once again, that's nice for you," Deadman said and glanced down the table towards the attendant who was in the process of gathering up the requested food. All he wanted was to eat dinner in peace.
"So no comeback then from the warrior? Nothing that you have done that compares to that?" Blueblood continued.
Deadman sighed, wishing he had sat by Luna now more than ever. At least he would have probably not been harassed.
He checked to see if he was being watched closely before leaning over and quietly whispering "Nah, I would have to lower my actual statistics to compare to that. I'm the type who neutralizes a mixture of two hundred and forty-one SIVs and Order Agents over the course of fifteen minutes during a classified operation.”
Blueblood’s eyes widened in shock, not only not expecting such a large claim, but the matter of fact tone Deadman used told him he was likely not a braggart.
“Now let us eat dinner in peace, hmm?” Deadman said in a very slightly more amicable tone as he turned back forwards and leaned away from Blueblood.
With the timing of a clockmaker, the waiter from earlier had shown up once again and placed the platter in front of him. “Your meal, sir,” he said before laying the plate full of spaghetti and tofu in front of him.
At this point, he began ignoring any conversation that may be going on at the table, not including any mention of the names ‘Blacklight’ or ‘Deadman’.
It would appear that is was time for him to take his helmet off. He lifted his hand up beside his helmet and tapped the HRV on last time, looking for anything potentially dangerous lurking beyond the walls, before turning it off and reaching down along the base of the helmet and dehooking the latches keeping it in place.
With no small amount of trepidation, Deadman lifted the helmet off of his head as it depressurized.
Deadman removed the helmet from his head, allowing his short brown hair to fall down upon his brow He sighed and brushed it off his pale forehead and to the side.
He would have appreciated a comb to tidy himself up just a bit, but oh well.
Looking around the room, he noticed that a disturbing amount of eyes were on him once more.  It screamed against his instincts to be in the presence of so many without his helmet on, but he would endure. He almost shivered, but suppressed it, thinking of the possibility of someone aiming for his head right now, but if he were to return his helmet to his head he could risk diplomatic issues which he would not be able to deal with. To one side, he noticed that both Celestia, Cadance, and Twilight were all looking at him to some degree. In two of the three cases they were polite enough to not stare at him, and were consequently subtle about it. Twilight, however, was not. It was obvious from her gaze that she was closely observing him. He immediately redirected his gaze to the other side as to attempt to dissuade any attempts at heavy questioning.
He completely ignored whatever Blueblood’s reaction was and focused on the gryphon and Luna. Almost immediately, he noticed an inquisitive look on the gryphon’s face and turned back to his food.

He was going to have his dinner in silence one way or another.
Gently bending down slightly and placing his helmet between his legs as he gripped it with his feet, Deadman went on to lift the silverware fork beside his plate up and stab it into one of the small pieces of tofu.
Remembering his manners, he ate as cleanly as he could, as well as turning his head ever so slightly as to see Cadance’s plate of the corner of his eye. He matched his pace of eating to her’s in order to remain polite in yet another way he could potentially screw up. However, he kept a few bites behind to make himself not blatantly obvious.

Once he had finished, he risked a brief glimpse down the table and saw that everyone was now conversing with others around themselves, in polite chit-chat.
Looks like he would have to also engage in such activities. Wait, he had a plan.
He turned towards Celestia and said “Excuse me your majesty, may I talk to you when you have a moment?”
“Of course, Ambassador, what is it?” Celestia replied, keeping that practiced smile on her face. He was certain that she knew he didn’t like that.
He put on a slight frown and said “If it isn’t terribly rude, it appears I will have to retire a bit early. Rather unfortunately, when I don’t sleep for too long, I start to get migraines which leave me extremely ill for a few days, and I have been up ever since two days ago. As I have been kept aloft only by medicine up to this point I feel as if I should go to my assigned room now, so it does not wear off and I ruin this wonderful dinner by getting sick.” All of this was technically true.
Her face turned into a frown as well, which he imagined was slightly more genuine than his, and said “I understand, I will have a few of my guards to escort you to your room.”
“Thank you, your majesty, I will have to see you at a later date, then,” he said as he smiled and reached back down to pick up his helmet and place it on his head.
Rehooking the latches and hearing it reseal, he quietly pushed his chair out and rose, and said at a volume just enough to be heard by the rest of the ‘high’ table “I apologize, I must take my leave now in order to attend to my continued health.”
With his helmet back on, he dropped the false expression and turned over to two guards which he heard approaching from behind him. With a single nod, they turned and began escorting him through all the stares and out of the grand dining hall.
As soon as they were out of the door, he felt the tension leave him in a flood.