Arturo glanced at Valdez and gave her a cheerful smile, "Yeah, I know smoking is bad, however, I also know it isn't as bad as getting shot by photons, lasers, tachyons, nuked, stabbed and drugged. I will be fine". Sforza put a hand into his jackets inner pocket and momentarily after took out a wonderful platinum old-school Zippo lighter with engravings of the Sforza familia crest on the left side of the lighter whilst the right side had the Legión logo. The Legionnaire flipped open the lighter and a vivid golden flame appeared immediately after. Arturo moved it to the front of the cigarette and made a brief inhale, making it glow in a luminous crimson manner. Exhale. Ample amount of silvery-grey smoke exited his nostrils, "Nothing beats a cigarette before entering an unknown location hosted by a dubious group of individuals."
Sforza casually ran his fingers through the beard and leaned in ever so slightly, whispering to Valdez, "Say, what are your expectations of this festival?", the formally informal legionnaire mumbled something under his breath as they continued down their path to the wherever the festival may be held. Arturo drew another puff of the cigarette as he was looked at his surroundings. Noticing all kinds of personnel that were employed or slaved. The general area around him looked a great deal different than all of those bland and boring stations that he is so very used to whenever he is deployed in the Taus or far Omicrons. Once again, a dense cloud of smoke exited Arturo and evaporated quickly.
A handful of thoughts were perpetually coursing through his mind, mostly regarding different extraordinary substances and refreshments. "What kind of degenerates and filthy human beings will attend this meeting?" Was the more important question in his mind which he had no obvious answer to. Well, no matter. He was already here with no distinct escape plan in sight.