A Ball Rolls Uphill (Fringe)

[Yasha Cadera]

The constituents had spoken. Battles hard won, some by strength of arms others by strength of affections and flippant words had stretched into the mindset of the Fringe Confederacy. The need - nay, demand for an extravagant affair caught my ever listening ear and who was I, High Councillor Anders Sivas, to deny the electorate their pleasure? The invitations were sent out in cordial Common and flowing script, inviting every prominent member to the dignified and brilliant ball.

Image Courtesy of Flagler U - Ponce De Leon Ballroom

While [member="Lucien Cordel"] cleaned up the residue of the unfortunate business on Val'halla, an air of celebration had hit the hearts and delighted minds of the Fringe. Worlds opened the shutters of their discontent to air out in a brilliant springtime the fine nature of a Confederacy blessed in absence and in solidarity. The Ballroom was home to a live orchestra, which played protected behind stained glass archways. One wall of the massive space had been made into a full service bar, Tapas lounge and resting area replete with chaise lounges from Naboo, I flew the head chef in from Theed (an old friend of my Mom's, not that I said, who had in his youth served the Queen Abhayaraita herself). The pastry chefs were from Corellia, and had created a cake so grand that the leftovers could feed a battalion.

By the door, a droid-and-Fringe Military manned checkpoint scanned and cleared the guests of any weapons or malicious devices which could potentially ruin someone's fun. Although I'm confident many in the Fringe can get along just fine in the arts of violence without technological assistance, I'm hoping it sets a tone. Each of the soldiers had come from hard fought battles from the Fronts and skirmishes around our borders, and in honour of their service this fine night, they were given 3 Day Leave at the conclusion of the party.

Particularly a tone where no one gets throttled, caned, shot, sliced, stabbed or bitten. The High Councillors have a small VIP sanctuary area where private conversation, and a moment of silence from the din of dancing feet and constant nagging could be partaken, and in the centre of the VIP area surrounded by four Echani Guardsmen was a glorious cake marked "For [member="Spencer Jacobs"], May She Be Forever Loved".

For this evening Anders Sivas had made note that I would be behind the scenes as it were, so busy with the event itself to appear. This of course, was to allow my Event Planner, the Naboo Artist Andra to take my place. In other words, loyal and adoring viewers: I'm going incognito as myself and to Hoth with the consequences! Doubt anyone'll ask for Anders Sivas, anyhow, and if they do… well… a comedy of errors will most likely be the best of the errors tonight.

I stand in the midst of the butlers' hustle to open the doors to the arriving guests, a Page standing at the entry of the Hall to announce to the company who has arrived.

Oh Fringe, I give you… The Victory Ball!

Spoiler

[member="Spencer Jacobs"] [member="Jared Ovmar"] [member="Morna Imura"] [member="Sargon Vynea"] [member="Lucien Cordel"] [member="Darth Arcis"] [member="Dharma Vessia"] [member="Mikhail Shorn"] [member="Valik"] [member="Val'Ryss Zankarr"] [member="Nick Kahoshi"] [member="Darth Vornskr"] @Helios Kingpriest [member="Tirdarius"] [member="Nickolas Imura"][member="Kitt Solo"] [member="Meret Blackmoon"] [member="Alen Na'Varro"] [member="Lucianus Adair"] [member="Darth Proeliator"] @Zius Aurus [member="Rexus Drath"] [member="Silas Tyree"] [member="Neskar A'toll"] [member="Nemene Talith"] [member="Lord Dissero"] [member="Eldoc Quasat"] [member="Hannibal Oryen"] @Andreas Wintergreen [member="Cody Weadge"] [member="Carré Inirial"] [member="Evelynn Zambrano"] @Anders Sivas

 

[Not Ordo]

[member="Anders Sivas"]

The old familiar glow and mellow expresion on the Man's face was not one that was often missing and could only mean he had started drinking at his own pre-ball party. He hadn't bothered to bring weapons from his ship. If someone was going to shoot him with so many fellow Fringers around then he probably deserved it anyway.

His black tuxedo was...well it was on at least. The Tie was untied, the jacket was unbuttoned and he was pretty sure he was as close to commando as he had interest in being anytime soon. He carried with him only an old Corellian flat-top box with six mettalic strings that ran for the curved body up a neck of lacquered wood and encircled six adjustable pegs. His only other possession was the metal flask filled with Fringe Wodka strong enough that it could probably be used as ship fuel in a pinch.

The gaurds checked and scanned to find nothing of note and let him in. Flat-top box in hand he did what made most sense and headed to the bar. After all what better place for Gavin than that.

 

[Lucien Cordel]

Lucien arrived next. In stark contrast to Gavin Lucien was as ever immaculate in full white tie attire. An opera scarf was draped over his shoulders. His attire was notably expensive but it did little to mask his exhaustion, the time off would be appreciated.

Val'halla's populace had been some what resistant to the martial law Lucien had imposed and protests were getting frequent. Lucien was growing weary of signing warrants for arrests and executions. Val'halla needed a perminant leader.

Lucien stepped in and submitted to the molestation he was to be put through, he had no weapons on him of course that would have been in poor taste. He grumbled as the officer stood up again, he was a high councillor you would think he would be able to enter a ball unmolested.

His guards surrendered their weapons. Lucien coughed and brought his arms back his over coat fell from his body when no one came forward to help him remove it " you have exactly 30 seconds to pick up and store my coat or you have my personal garuntee that the rest of your careers will be spent cleaning toilets" he growled before beginning to stroll away stopping for a moment to say that if they damaged his coat in any way he would have them hanged. he probably didn't have the authority to do that but he was sure the threat would suffice.

Having suffered the door men he agent over to the bar and ordered a glass of claret whilst he awaited the others.

 

[Lord Ghoul]

Obviously going through the front door would have been far too boring and banal an entrance for the likes of the anarchist, Mikhail Shorn. As the Fringe VIPs continued to stream through the double doors into the grand ballroom in all their splendid regalia, a door near the table with the punch bowls closed. That door led to a separate room, which led to a flight of stairs, which led to another room with a window, which led to the outside, which led to two mind tricked guards.

Looking rather pleased with himself, a raven-haired man in a black tux suavely swept a toothpick of food from a nearby platter. Celebrating Zaiden's removal from the Fringe seemed like a cause for partying to Shorn. Knowing Lucien, all of the Shadow Master's sycophants on Val'halla had probably been executed or worse. Well, Mikhail thought, that's what they got for supporting a purple centaur. He scanned the crowd, a mix of garish and ghoulish. Especially if Shinju showed up. He saw Lucien and Ovmar's cousin, was it? He'd never met the man, but he'd heard stories about the partying abilities of Gavin Ovmar.

A figure caught his eye and he moved seamlessly through the crowd until he stood behind her.

"Boo," he said, mouth next to @Ander Sivas' ear. He looked up and down at her dress. "Black, what is this a funeral? Oh excuse me, who am I to talk?" He rose both eyebrows slyly and bit the food off the toothpick in a smooth, quick motion that just barely revealed his too-sharp canines. At that moment, the ballroom's speakers suddenly changed to a different song.

He met her eyes. "Where's Lov-ovmar boy?"

 

[Yasha Cadera]

My first priority is [member="Lucien Cordel"]. The High Councillor looks miffed and with good reason. My heels clip daintily up to Lucien Cordel, hazel eyes which may be familiar in a certain missing High Councillor beaming up at the well dressed man. "Apologies, High Councillor Cordel." I curtsey and give him a smile, offering him my hand and a nod to the men at the door. "High Councillor Sivas offered the diligent men a three day pass to see their families. These men have been on the Frontlines for some time. Their reticence is … well, everyone likes seeing family eh? Please, we've set up a VIP section for when you tire of the crowd. Pardon me, I'm Andra Ov-ah, of Naboo. High Councillor Sivas hired me as the party's planner. Please, enjoy your time and I do hope you find the events relaxing."

A shrill of puritanical fear shudders up my spine as indecently familiar lips purse around a child's word by my ear. All at once I stiffen and my lips part with a barely controlled whimper. "Mikhail!" I swerve my back on Lucien Cordel, face to face with the man who less than weeks before bit me in the neck and drank till I dropped. Damn if the sod looks good in that tux, his ever cheerful smirk on his face.

I laugh, a calm and cheerful sound as I touch his bicep with my free hand, the other cuddled around a flute of sparkling blossom wine I grabbed from the nearest Server. "Oh Mikhail, black is in this season. Besides, my favourite dress got damaged. Unfortunate, but Lov-ovmar boy is having another one made so maybe it'll be done in time for the dance. Have you met [member="Jared Ovmar"]'s cousin yet? Oh do. I think you'll get along! Let me take you to him. Excuse me, Lord Cordel." My neck is bolt-tight and for a spit second I wonder if it's safer around Lucien. He might not know who I am, but chivalry dies hard in the Lord Cordel.

This is not Mikhail's Yacht. As the wealth and dignity of the Fringe Confederacy enter my party, I feel a stabilizing courage bolt up my spine as I attempt to at least herd [member="Mikhail Shorn"] out of earshot. I blink at the way his eyes scour me, my hand leaves his bicep with a start and brushes against my flawless neck. Curato Salva is a lifesaver. "Jared is within mental range. Come now, I'm sure there's enough here for you to enjoy at my party. Please. I can introduce you to [member="Gavin Ovmar"] you two would take any place by storm." His tie is the least bit crooked. A wave of my hand and it straightens on his tux. "There. Perfect. See?" Logic and reason will prevail, my mind whispers. That is, until I remember how crowded it had been when Shorn hung my neck over a 200 story drop. "I do hope you enjoy my party. We have you to thank for helping rid the Confederacy of certain… ill wills. Consider this a thank you." How wide my eyes have gotten, how my neck trembles has yet to enter my mind.

 

[Lord Ghoul]

A wink flashed at Cordel, who stood just beyond the rather terrified woman. It didn't take an empath to feel the shot of fear that trembled through her. Mikhail glanced quickly down as Andra touched his arm with delicate fingers. His eyes narrowed for the briefest of seconds, gone in a flash as he showed her a winsome smile that somehow seemed more frightening to those who knew him well.

An eyebrow lofted as a flurry of words rushed out of the woman. Not a little excitable, this girl. Shorn saw now why Jared felt the way he did, or used to anyway. Soulless bastard. Jared probably felt in control around her, capable of spurning her to terror or... other things.

Suddenly, Shorn's attention was directed at Gavin Ovmar. The guy seemed perfectly at ease in the throngs of the rich and famous. A fair amount of the people here were "legitimate" businessmen. Mikhail briefly contemplated what it would feel like to start wantonly slaughtering them, but almost immediately nixed the idea. He liked being bad, but doing it without a reason just seemed so- what was the word Lucien would use for it? Barbaric.

The woman then attempted to adjust his bow tie. Mikhail's mouth quirked. "Hmm." He'd fixed it before coming into the ballroom. It had been perfectly straight. Ice blue eyes stared through the woman. He could smell the nervousness coming off her. Weak. Prey. It set his Garhoon senses a-tingling. Uuugh. He rolled his eyes and said in a confidential, mischievous tone, "If you were a tree you wouldn't have anymore leaves with the amount of shaking you're doing. Relaaax. If I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead."

[member="Anders Sivas"]

 

[Yasha Cadera]

My last words to [member="Mikhail Shorn"] had been words of forgiveness, of grace and a feeble hearted understanding. I'd pushed at the idea that a man like Shorn needed more moments of mercy to come to the place he knew full well he was capable of indwelling. Where that mercy was, it had taken its sweet time trundling back. I pull at the feelings of peace inside my own mind, trying to stop the damnable shake of a Damsel in Distress. My nostrils flare and I blink away the wideness to my eyes. "I don't know, Mikhail. Some moments feel safe, when others turn." I should have worn a gorget.

The air in my lungs hisses out in a thin stream and I pull at the safety of the Ballroom. No one would be dumb enough to try something violent with the sheer amount of Force Powers and dashing good manners in the place. Mikhail's admission that I'd be dead if he wanted me so hits me sideways. I giggle, morphing into a chuckle then a full shoulder-shaking belly laugh. "It's so true, isn't it? I must look like a glass figurine to you. Chipped, clutching grains of sand hoping to repair myself before the next buffeting storm." Snapping my fingers, I brush at the corner of my eye. "Going to kill me softly with songs? Maybe dance me to fainting? Or did you stop by to comment on the nature of my chersilk dress? Oh no, I get it. You're looking for Lord Ovmar." Shrugging my ivory shoulders, I sip the blossom wine, then grab another from the legion of servers and pass it to Mikhail.


"This party's as much for you as me. Without you, I'd never have thought of shooting the man. Share a toast with me. To bygones and peaceful passage. . . you were right by the way. About everything. Thank you, for that." The grin I plaster on my face has just a dash of Persuasion, as if I will the atmosphere around me to be as chipper and glad of the event as I want others to feel. Would Mikhail know me well enough to see through it, he with [member="Jared Ovmar"]'s memories in his head? "Cheers?" That plastered smile, one hand on my hip the other on the glass.

 

[Lord Ghoul]

Shorn had Jared Ovmar's memories. That didn't just mean he got a few glimpses of nine year old Jar on the swingset. It meant he remembered everything that Jared did, as if he had been there. And not just the sights, but the smells, the sounds. The emotions. The sheer amount of foreign input had nearly shattered Mikhail's mind, but somehow he'd made it through mostly intact. After Jared's essence had left Mikhail had retained all those memories and feelings. He could recall Andra's expressions and mannerisms. He knew her far, far better than he ever should have, because he knew her as Jared knew her.

Did it bother him? Hell yeah. But it also meant he saw right through her as if she were a window pane.

He snatched the glass she offered to him and peered over the rim, pushing back against the touch of the Force in her words. "Cute effort. The whole 'you were right' bit, and the wine? I'm not some drunk sorority chick. You can't mind roofie me." A hint of ire crept into his voice as his eyes flared wide, then he smiled suddenly, "Cheers." He clinked his glass against hers and downed downed half of it in one go.

Mikhail glanced up at the ceiling, as if savoring the taste. "Mmm. You know what I think of you? You're not an ivory doll that's about to fall over. You're a confused girl who doesn't really understand what she wants anymore, from her clothes to her gender to her lover, if you've ever understood at all. You're terrified the people around you will take advantage of you if you let them in and you're terrified because you can't stop me from getting in. Just like you couldn't stop Jared." His eyes settled back onto her. "Now you're wondering if I want to take advantage of you, or if you want me to... scary, isn't it? I think the way you feel about me scares you more than thought that I might dangle you off another hundred story drop and get away with it."

The smoldering in his eyes could not be compared to fire. Fire didn't burn through skin this hot, nor ice freeze a beating heart so quick.

"So tell me again. Was I right about everything?"

[member="Anders Sivas"]

 

[Yasha Cadera]

The glance in his eyes is Jared's. The bemused smirk, the gentle twitch in his cheek are part and parcel [member="Jared Ovmar"]. For the blistering time [member="Mikhail Shorn"]'s eyes are on me I see the Jared Who Was glancing from behind the caustic blue Garhoon eyes and my fist clenches. I sip my drink and spread another laugh about, peppering the air with more dignified calm and joy than I feel. "Who said I was trying to effect you?" Maybe if it doesn't catch Mikhail, it'll slink back home and catch ahold of me.

"Of course I'm terrified, I've lived my life with the nearest and dearest taking real estate in my cerebellum. I ran like a voorpah in a vil'raptor nest until I knew nothing but running. Pretty sure I won the ten thousand mile sprint fifteen times over." I seethe, whispering in a corner of the ballroom. The music covers the wavelengths of my voice, distorting and hiding it from all but Shorn. Acoustics are delightful. "You're waltzing around with Jared's emotions in your head and it's more confusing than sin. Yes, I'm confused. The whole gender bending thing attests to that. But seeing as how you know me as well as the man who gets my legs wrapped round him oh-so-emphatically, you'll also see that despite all of it I'm still here. The great runner hasn't bolted and I think that means something. What that something is, I'm getting the hang of in piecemeal. Yes, you're right. And yes it irks me. You're an echo and the man of my nightmares rolled together and instead of screaming like a timid bird I'm standing here sharing ungoddessly good blossom wine at a party I devised to give all of us reason and opportunity to make the best of what we have left."

The music shifts, couples begin to take to the dance floor and I search mentally for a stabilizing point in the sea of welling pride. "One fallacy in your impeccable logic: Jared's never had his way with my brain. He kept me separate, I developed what we have on my own. Jared is mine. I am Jared's. You, on the other hand, I can't seem to shake." My mind flashes to the moment Mikhail's mouth came down on my neck. I shut my eyes and push the memory away for another passing tray to put my half-full glass upon. Drinking was how I got in the dastardly man's mouth in the first place. Well, maybe third place?

"This is our party." I straighten up, put my fingers to reassure me that my hair is tidy and neat. "And everyone of us needs a party like this to bring community and joy. I must serve my people, Mikhail. That's what Jared taught me. What Sargon taught me. The Fringe is my family and one does not run from one's family. So I'm going to keep facing you, and keep trying to figure it out. Owe all three of us that much, don't I?"

 

[Not Ordo]

[member="Lucien Cordel"] [member="Mikhail Shorn"] [member="Anders Sivas"]

Gavin wasn't a specialist at the Force or much of anything, but he could read a Sabaac face like a book and drink like a fish. His brown eyes caught sight of the woman in black as se approached with the man in the much nicer tux. His callused hands lightly grabbed the small shot glass and dumped it down. Bitter sweet liquor burned the back of his throat and he began moving down the small row of glasses shooting 3 more before leaning his guitar against the bar and looking at the pair out of the corner of his eye. Something was far from light hearted in the woman's manner. Her neck was tight back too straight and the Man's eyes had predatory down to a karking 'T'.

Gavin started over hand jammed idly in his pockets. He stopped briefly to nudge a female servers chin with a crooked index finger, wink and grab a glass of the red wine she was carrying. His typical saunter was a fluid thing for a man who preferred a cockpit to a ballroom the way a Hutt prefers credits to promises. He caught the words "sorority chick" and "can't roofie me" then lost the rest as a few people crossed in front of him laughing about a heist someone had pulled.

He cut through the crowd with a lively spin holding his glass high and smiling at another woman who was probably married to the mook by her side and slid up behind the woman. He slid an arm around the woman's waist and smiled at the man with his best Sabaac grin. "A woman this pretty could roofie me anytime." he said stepping back to look at her with admiration that he didn't have to fake. "then again she wouldn't have too." He gave her a wink and the same smile. "Who ever you are here with is a lucky man." Gavin turned to the man and offered a hand calmly, "Gavin Ovmar," He said before taking a sip of the wine, "Please tell me she's free to dance."

 

[Lord Ghoul]

"I never said you weren't brave," Shorn said, still smiling. His tone and mannerisms were casual, with not a small hint of mischief. He regarded the entirety of the conversation with flippant airs and much eye rolling. Drama, drama, drama. People could get so worked up times.

The man of her nightmares, eh? How romantic. It didn't exactly sting, except, well... yes, it did a little. Her fear of him was both gratifying and incredibly frustrating. There were those he wanted to fear him: the Sith, Jedi, Templars, governments, people who annoyed him, but with some, like Lucien, Spencer, and Sargon... for them it was different. He could not reconcile his lust for power with his lust for love. Many rulers often said it was better to be feared than loved. Shorn told himself it was better to be hated than loved by someone he would inevitably let down, but as good as he had gotten at lying to himself, sheer force of will could not ignore the pain in his chest.

His eyes settled on a figure quickly approaching from behind Andra. Mikhail let out a soft snort and blinked lazily, "I just wish you wouldn't be so... melodramatic about it all."

The figure that was [member="Gavin Ovmar"] arrived. He introduced himself in a rather touchy-feely manner, but Shorn maintained a relaxed posed. "Oh hey," he replied with apparent genuine cheer, "I'm Mikhail."

"Dance? Her? I'd say she owed you one."

[member="Anders Sivas"]

 

[Arage Bao]

As I walked through the doors leading into the ballroom, I couldn’t help but yawn just a tiny bit. We were celebrating.. something? Wasn’t really sure what, the purple Unicorn was still out there somewhere. Probably corrupting people with his awesome powers of Shadow..awesomeness? Anyway, a crazy horse with the tendency to handwave an army of the undead, and he was MIA.

Not sure how that was a thing to celebrate. Besides that.. something about a couple of more planets joining under the fold of the Confederation. Whooptie Doo. In the end, my cynicism had more to do with my growing anxiousness of seeing my family again. More so than my apparent disinterest in celebrating stuff.

The moment I set foot inside the hall, people all around me stopped what they were doing. Talks halted to a screech, dancers froze in the middle of their complicated choreography and the posers stopped their posing for a mere second or two.

It was as if the whole room held their breath for a few seconds. It amused me to no end, and it showed as a lazy grin was flashed to the people in my vicinity.

I shook hands, clapped shoulders and exchanged poorly thought-up jokes. The perfect host, even though I wasn’t the host. Strange how these things go.

Eventually, I was able to disentangle myself from the crowd, and stroll over to lump of emotional disarray. Wasn’t too surprised when I saw Shorn, Andra and.. my cousin?

“The Prodigal Son has returned, my friends. Mikhail, I hope you are well, maybe you need something to drink? Rouge Vintage 815 ABY, perhaps?”

I extended my hand towards Andra, and gave Gavin a wink. “First dance is reserved for the Guest of Honor, ‘m afraid. But if you want, we can make it a threesome? A three-way dance, Gavin. You really need to lay off the drinks, cousin.”

[member="Mikhail Shorn"] [member="Anders Sivas"] [member="Gavin Ovmar"]

 

[Yasha Cadera]

[member="Gavin Ovmar"] is a saint. A drunken saint. Someone must have told him the booze was free. He smelled like a still covered in engine grease, dressed in digs that made me break with a bright and chipper grin. "Gavin!" I throw my arms around Gavin before I realize - He hasn't met me yet. He met Anders, and this was as good a time as any. "Hi, I'm ah, you met Anders right? At a bar or something but he told me he'd found Jared's cousin. I'm Andra, your cousin Jared's… ahmm… you have the most impeccable timing in the universe." I lean up and give Gavin a smacking kiss on the cheek, and tied his tie. "You're family!"

The Ovmar Cousins are the last ingredient of a long twisted spell that brings the courage in. I have nothing more to fear - well, there's a blood sucking Garhoon whose tasted my blood and liked it at my 'Yay We Rock Fringe Party', but being Fringe I'm fairly certain he was invited and [member="Kitt Solo"] is going to kick herself for not being here as early as [member="Lucien Cordel"] and the peppering of others. There's a commotion behind me and I know exactly who the centre of the commotion is. My favourite Ovmar - sorry Gavin.

"You nearly bled me dry" I say softly, giving [member="Mikhail Shorn"] a relieved - if satisfied smile. "Mikhail, I single-handedly set up a party where every person Jared cares about will be in the same room celebrating and joyful. Didn't think I was going to leave him in his current status quo, did you? Step one in rebuilding a soul: remind them why they had one. Please, enjoy the party. Meet some people, have fun. Trust me just a little, healing is my business." I wink and wind my hand over just in time to be scooped up by [member="Jared Ovmar"] with a brilliant laugh and grin.

"Darling, that vintage is far too precious to leave the vault tonight." I ply my way to Jared's side and feel the soaking jealousy of a legion of bachelorettes pining at Mr. Annaj Himself. "A dance for the Guest of Honour is fitting, it is your party after all! Surprise!" I hop and down on my heels once and glance around. "Welcome back, Lord of the Fringe High Councillor Jared Ovmar."

"Yes! Yes, let's dance. Right now! Let's dance! Come on everyone!" Hey, I've learned one thing from my last run in with the Thronebreaker: Take the exit, when it comes. Bringing the fun in since 815 ABY.

 

[Lord Ghoul]

"Bled you dry?" Mikhail snorted. "You've got a hyperbolic memory."

Shorn's eyes rolled laboriously at the melodramatic entrance of the dead man.

"Ugh, rebuilding is so time consuming." He replied to Andra. "This is why when I kill people they're supposed to stay dead, not come back as Guests of Honor. Makes things all complicated."

He waved a hand as Jared approached and greeted him with faux calm, mischief lurking in cold blue eyes. "Vintage? I'll pass. Had it earlier. Still can't quite get the taste out of my mouth. Maybe a sip or three later, if I get peckish." A too-white smile.

 

[Not Ordo]

[member="Mikhail Shorn"] [member="Anders Sivas"] [member="Jared Ovmar"]

Gavin took another sip of the wine that he could barely taste. He needed something with more kick soon. He was about to toddle off to the dance floor with lil'miss when some folks who didn't know better stopped to stare. At who you ask? Well dear reader at none other than Gavin's dear cousin Jared.

Gavin watched as he sauntered over like the legend in his own mind that he was and couldn't help but smile at his easy manner.

"I'll lay off the drinks when you lay off the cologne, mate." Gavin said before Andra went to her beaux.

'Well I guess I'll have to hit on another one.' He thought as Jared and Andra spoke. He would have to try and talk to Anders about the lady later...if he remembered.

Gavin tapped Mikhail with the back of his hand and drank down the rest of his wine.

"Come on," he said, " it's an open bar and this place is crawling with women. Let these two have this round."

Gavin didn't wait. He tossed up a friendly waive and turned to go back to the bar.

 

[Kitt Solo]

[member="Gavin Ovmar"]

"...and that's when the Hutt said to the Bothan, 'You're looking like you gained some extra pounds.'" The bartender's hand slapped the counter as he slid another Corellian-brandy toward Kitt, a deep bellowing laugh escaping from his throat. She grinned as she finished her story and cast him a sly-look.

"Fred, you're not paid to laugh at my jokes, are you?"

"Never, High Councilor. It certainly wouldn't be enough." He cast her a wink before turning away. She grinned when Gavin came up and offered him her drink. "If I'da known this party was in honor of your cousin, I might've skipped out." Her smile widened. "Drink? I'm just glad there ain't a bunch of lovesick gas pumping through this room right now. Or was there some around that girl over there - who looks surprisingly like Anders?"

And felt like Anders. Stars, she was gonna need a few more drinks.

 

[Lord Ghoul]

A hand tapped at Mikhail's arm. He looked down at it, then the man it was attached to and briefly contemplated snapping Gavin Ovmar's neck. What a ruckus that would cause. He decided he didn't really feel like it at the moment so instead he simply shrugged and decided to play along.

"I could've taken him," Shorn growled, feigning a surface of half-heartedness below which sat depthless sarcasm.

He followed the cousin of the man he'd killed, but stopped suddenly to pull a waitress aside. He whispered in her ear, a smile on his lips. Her eyes suddenly glazed over and she pulled away, immediately stalking off in the direction of [member="Jared Ovmar"] and [member="Anders Sivas"]. Mikhail walked up to the bar, leaned against it, and stuffed his hand in his pocket.

"What can I get you?" the bartender asked.

Mikhail glanced at him. "Bourbon." His gaze returned to the couple.

The waitress he'd spoken to walked straight up to Jared and tossed a glass of champagne in his face. "LYING BASTARD! YOU SAID WE WOULD GET MARRIED!" She screamed. "I WAITED FOR YOU, FOR SIX MONTHS! I LEFT MY JOB ON ZELTROS FOR YOU AND OUR BABY! I HAD TO GO THROUGH THE PREGNANCY ON MY OWN WITHOUT YOU THERE?! NOW YOU JUST SHOW UP WITHOUT A WORD?!?!?! YOU HEARTLESS, NO-GOOD, NERFHERDING PIECE OF SPACER JUNK! WHO IS THIS WOMAN YOU'RE WITH?! HOW MANY OTHER WOMEN ARE THERE?! I HATE YOU!"

Heads turned, eyes widened, and gossip began to blur like a wildfire throughout the gathering of the Fringe's elite. Jared Ovmar had an affair with a stripper from Zeltros? And a child no less? Disapproving stares came from dozens of women's eyes. Some of the more high-minded men and women attempted to ignore it, but it was rather awkward and she was extremely loud.

The raving woman tried to slap Jared, but the security grabbed her just in time and escorted her out of sight.

Looking very pleased with himself, Mikhail grabbed his glass of Bourbon and turned to Gavin. "From hero to zero in just a few minutes. Your cousin really does know how to turn heads."

 

[Arage Bao]

Telekinesis splashed the drink right back into her face.

I yawned.

Then I replied.

“Mmmm.. lost count after thirty-two. Or was it thirty-three, Andra? Think it was that red head, we invited back home with us.”

As the girl got escorted out, I flashed everyone a lazy grin. This was the best about getting into a party with the people that loved and liked me. They knew me for what I was, I had never tried to hide my womanizing ways.

“Also. Got a vasectomy a year ago, so not sure where that girl came from, or who she was with. Carry on folks, drinks are on me.”

 

[Lord Ghoul]

The crowd didn't look convinced.

 

[Kassandra Distorith]

This certainly wasn't the first black-tie formal event she had been to in her life. When one was raised by a Hapan mother, one was stuck going to these types of parties on a fairly regular basis...no matter how hard she tried to get out them. With a sigh, fingers rose to ensure her platinum curls were still artfully arranged before she sauntered towards the entrance of the ballroom. Having already passed through multiple layers of security and weapons checks between the front gate and the grand ballroom entrance itself, she anticipated being able to slip inside with little or no fanfare at all.

Unfortunately, the seneschal at the door had other ideas. While he did not, mercifully, address her as a Princess, he did address her as a Lady and gave her full formal name which Phe had been trying to avoid since she'd joined the Fringe. At least, her sense of timing was impeccable, she entered a few guests after Lord Ovmar himself, who still commanded the room's attention. With any luck, no one she actually knew would have heard.

With her head held high, she sauntered about the perimeter of the ballroom, watching some few of those assembled being called to the dance floor. Phe smiled and dipped her head in greeting to those she passed that she was acquainted with, steps carrying her to the long wall of the ballroom that had been set up as a bar. With a soft, relieved sigh, she perched on one of the stools and smoothed out the raven vine-silk of her gown. The backless dress was cut to reveal the entirety of the tattoo that adorned her back, even as it cascaded all the way to the floor.

A hand raised, and the bartender nodded acknowledgement, taking a moment to finish what he was doing before approaching to take her order. "Whyren's Reserve. Neat." Phedre said simply, setting her delicate silver clutch on the bartop as she waited.