For once, the heavier-than-usual weight of Garamond's hand was entirely welcome, even if the shake that followed it was less so. Calibri raised a hand to push up his glasses, which had slid down his face from the jolt, before responding to Qlrk'riqktvlek, who didn't seem to expect a handshake in turn, as that was an entirely human construct of behavior.

"My family is stationed on Krellida; I was born there," he explained, and because there was a mutual dislike of small-talk between the two of them, neither felt obligated to partake in it, much to Calibri's relief. Instead, he turned to look up at Garamond, who really was the only solid clue he had as to what was going on in this little congregation anyway, only pausing to call out a customary Krellidae parting when 'Bradley' began to move away: a strong and echoed, "Bountiful be the Queen."

"Sir," he said immediately afterward to the larger man, once there was enough of a lull in the conversation to do so. "What is this party for?"

And why was he missing class for it?