Public A Night to Remember (Open to TSE and CIS)

[Arctus Silmar]

Corbos; The Shaper's Palace

The Shaper slowly lowered his hands, the vestiges of Sith magic falling from his fingertips in the dying sputters of pallid green flames. A radiance and cleanliness to the new ballroom fit to satisfy any neat freak glimmering back at him as the servants took their places. Livening the tables with delectable food from seared wampa to perfectly seared bantha steak, drinks of the finest and most premium vintages to be found in the Empire gathered for the guests who were due to be arriving any moment. The final touches going on to a set of twin fountains, one chocolate and one cheese, each with their own accompanying repertoire of dippable delicacies. The servants even began to ferry out what the placard on the table advertised as an 'endless pasta bar'. Cheeses, spices and seasonings of all kind available for customization of one's dish. But there was more to this gathering of individuals than a simple banquet and The Shaper at least had enough of a flair for the dramatic to see to it his guests from the Confederacy felt welcome.

Turning idly Shaper would give attention to the only non-servant allowed on the premises. Taking the more jovial and welcoming atmosphere in as much stride as he could, he simply pat Pandora on the head a single time, before he closed his eyes, and opened them to see brilliant green lights. Flare out over the entirety of the palace. Swimming and swirling along the masterfully prepared stonework like a tapestry weaving itself into creation. Energy pouring from the Shaper as light was bent, molded and made to submit to his admittedly not so sinister design, this once, before a moving light show would dance across the very stonework of his palace. Figures, features as shadows but consisting of crimson, burning reds and swirling, crackling purples danced together. Their faces fit to as operatic masques.

As the guests began to arrive The Shaper laced his hands behind his back, turned and strode to the stage, intent on personally seeing to the performance planned for this evening. A famous operatic singer from within the Empire, wearing a form-fitting pearl dress, would begin to take her place as an orchestra set up around her. Meanwhile The Shaper saw to the dispatching of a group of servants to the entrance, to provide masques for any who sought to attend without one. They seemingly never seemed to run out. Regardless of how many masques were handing out. One per guest. As well as a small gift box for those who would accept one. Though for those able to sense it the boxes would radiate a profoundly powerful signature in the Force. Were it any consolation to one debating on accepting the gift box, their presence in the Force is entirely benign.

Once guests began to enter the main ballroom the orchestra would begin to play, followed by the operatic singer beginning to sing in the High Sith tongue for those in attendance. The Shaper calmly took his place at the top of the stairs, overlooking the gathering as individuals entered by the dozens, not yet donning a masque of his own, as he simply watched the proceeding with a satisfied, yet critical, eye. As ever he inspected his work for any signs of imperfection. The servants would even provide small games and activities for guests, should they be so inclined. As well as one particular servant offering paintings of the guests in attendance, while another duo swept amongst the proceedings with two boxes and a stack of paper slips. Intent on taking a vote on whom of the male and female guests they felt was the most sharply dressed for the night.

With a slow sigh his eyes slipped shut. He was confident, at the very least, those in attendance would not run out of things to entertain themselves. Otherwise, his primary focus on the night was on the arrival of one Srina Talon who was to be making his acquaintance this evening. An Echani woman he knew held the Confederacy's leader inherent trust and, if his intelligence was to be believed, a woman as exacting and ruthless as necessity could ever demand of her. To this he could only give a faint, amused smile. Two words crossing his mind as the night began to come alive with activity. 'How charming.'

 

[Pandora]

Pandora

Excitement flowed through Pandora's veins as she stood near her Master's side. She had chosen a more human appearance for this occasion, leaving her two extra "spines" on full display in the gown she chose, and a black floral lace mask. Messing with the flowers in her hair, she hadn't noticed that Arctus Silmar had paused his work until she felt his hand pat her head softly. Looking up at her Master with as warm a smile as she could give, Pandora trailed her fingers down from the flowers, and curled her loose hair around her fingers.

Observing the rest of her Master's work quietly, Pandora tilted her head to the side. She couldn't fully understand why he thought a party this grand was necessary, but she hoped it would at least be entertaining. Perhaps she could find someone to play with? The opera singer had a pretty voice, but the Shaper would never allow Pandora to have fun with her.

A shame, her screams of agony would probably be so pretty.

Golden eyes scanned over the slowly growing crowd, looking for anyone that could catch and hold her attention. So far, there was no one that seemed remotely interesting, so Pandora remained near her Master's side, tapping a clawed finger against her cheek lightly.

 

[Darth Ahriman]

Location: Corbos, The Shaper's Palace.
Company: Zeptepi Zambrano .
Attire: Acolyte Apparel & Lightsaber.

The young Acolyte would be among attendance for the evenings' banquet, though not as a guest but instead as a part of the security detail as per his Master's instruction. He, an Acolyte still yet to prove himself, not fit to grace the room with anything but a formal, dutiful presence; and as far as his personal opinion was concerned, this wasn't particularly his sort of affair in general.

Standing on the outskirts of the great hall, his back to the wall and scanning the room with watchful eyes, the Acolyte remained silent and out of the way of their guests, those that were meant to be enjoying themselves and all that Arctus Silmar had to offer. For what purpose they had been gathered, invited or otherwise dragged to this elaborate get-together, Valen didn't know, yet he had at the very least eyed the wine with more than just a little desire for how easily it would help him get through the night.

Truth be told, Valen's idea of a constructive evening would have been spending the hours within the duelling chambers, further honing his skill with the lightsaber or practising on amplifying his control over the force within the meditation chambers. Not only did the Sith Empire harbour enemies, but so too did Valen himself have a list of people to be done away with.

This evening would bring him no closer to achieving his own agenda.

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: O P E N //:

​

Just keep breathing. It was all she could really do to continue to exist in this universe. Compounding emotions continued to weigh on the young Echani’s heart as she weaved through the people that had decided to attend. So many people, all of them existing in this universe. Quinn yawned, a hand gently covering her face. As much as she would have instead kept herself boarded up in the palace on Eshan. As much as life was frustrating, the now blonde Varanin twin found herself in the middle of a party.

Amber eyes moved along the faces, many she didn’t recognize. Though knowing her luck, someone out in the crowd would realize the blond bob reminiscent of her now very alive mother. Quinn figured she should have dyed it back to its platinum state, a color that she had been known for through her years at the academy. Maybe then she could avoid the faces that wanted to find favor with her parents instead of actually getting to know her.

A hand moved along the fabric of the dress she wore while the other pressed the thin wire mask that covered nothing of her features. There was a part of the Echani princess that wanted others to recognize her. She wanted to be seen. Not because of who and where she came from - but for what she could become.​

 

[Ishani Dinn]

Ishani moved among the crowds, a decorated white mask she had brought herself affixed firmly to her face. A nerve-wracking thrill ran along her spine as she passed through the throng at the entrance. No one stopped her or asked questions. She was just another faceless guest, quite unhindered.

Green eyes inside the mask wandered to and fro, taking in the palace and the people inside. So this was the Sith Empire, the sister faction whose acronym, TSE, was so similar to SE that she had to clarify the difference in casual conversation. Even with the masks on, she thought she might detect a familiar aura somewhere, but so far, everyone she had laid eyes upon was a stranger to her. She had no friends here to introduce her, but she also had no enemies to harass her or overseers breathing down her neck, watching her every move. Hell, she wasn’t even considered important enough to be invited to these kinds of events back home, wasn’t she… not that she had actually been invited to this one.

All that aside, she was here to observe and to enjoy herself. There was food, and drinks, and… well, she couldn’t really focus on anything else at the moment, it all smelled so good. Worming her way to the cheese and chocolate fountains, she commenced snacking.

Oh—what was in that gift box, anyway? It seemed like nobody had opened theirs yet. Did they think there was something dangerous inside? She could detect the Force emanating from it, but it didn’t seem malicious. Well, with the Sith, she supposed you could never be too careful. Chewing and swallowing a piece of chocolate-coated fruit, she headed for a deserted alcove—or she thought it was deserted, but it actually held a necking couple hidden just around the corner. Whoops. Mumbling an apology, she found another alcove that thankfully was empty, muttered a protective spell, then opened the gift box.

Arctus Silmar Pandora Valen Arenais Quinn Varanin​

 

[Lunara Azure]

Location: Corbos; The Shaper's Palace
Wearing: Dress | Mask
Tagging: Open

​

There was a feel to the planet, that touch of the dark that called out to her like an old friend who had never been far from her mind. It was something that permeated the air, the earth of the building, the darkness that the planet had been steeped in like a cup of tea, that wrapped around her seeking to draw her into it’s embrace, wrapping her in a cloak of darkness that fit in ways she couldn’t describe. For so many years now that darkness had been her constant companion, a pit of despair and anger that had haunted her every step, binding her in ephemeral chains that sought to drag her down. She could still feel them, but now she could breathe, the chains seemed to hang on her a little more loosely.

It had been the appearance of her sister, that last element of a family she’d thought lost that had brought the dreams and hope that she’d once cherished back to the forefront of her mind. Only…she wasn’t sure that she was the same person, that she was worthy to walk the same path she’d once trodden. She’d been lauded as the figurehead of the church, an avatar of the light that suffused her home planet and for a time she’d basked in that position.

She just hadn’t realised how hollow that façade was.

It had taken just one day, the death of all she knew to push her to the edge and beyond. The sight of a corpse slumped over in the street, a face so familiar made pale by death, his life blood running through the cobblestones of the street. A sight that had reduced her to tears, that had killed something inside of her, leaving a cold place she’d filled with revenge and anger. The darkness that had bound her and pulled her away from the path of the light…a darkness that had lead her to burning a world, to killing enemies at the drop of a hat and using her allies as nothing more than tools.

The return of Alina had given her pause, her sister untainted, pure in a way that she’d been in the past. Lunara just wasn’t sure that she could return to that path now, wasn’t sure she could step back into the light, her soul was painted with blood, the dark a constant companion whispering in her ear. There was a freedom there, a sense of self of confidence that she had never found before, a whisper that left her standing in one place, shrouded in the dark with one foot left in the light.

Lunara knew her sister wanted her to step back into the light, to join her there…she just wasn’t sure if she wanted to. But for the first time the future didn’t seem set in stone, Alina had given her a choice, the space to make that decision for herself. So she had come here, to watch, to observe the Sith in their element. She’d met a few Sith during her time in the Confederacy but she wanted to know more, to understand them before she made that final decision for herself.

One hand reached out, a glass of wine floating away from a waiter’s plate to a waiting hand as she turned, lifting the glass to her lips as crystal blue eyes peered out of the holes in her mask as she swept her gaze over the room.

This would be interesting.

 

[Lady Marrow]

​

Tag: Arctus Silmar / Pandora
Equipment: Marrow Blade

The glimmering emerald eyes of the lavender creature would meet her own within her hand mirror as she delicately tinkered with the visage of her face and hair. Beautiful rolling curls with living mycetic clip like structures intermingled with her long locks which rolled over her left shoulder like cascading falls. Rolling her hands delicately across it time and time again, weaving the force through its creation intending it to be perfect. She had spent the better part of a week after her awakening on Concord Dawn addressing the issues with her prior childlike appearance. It had been crass, disreputable and ill serving of her for the longest time. Now that her mind was awakened to context it had proven advantageous for her survival.

After moving the last of her hair into place, without a strand awry the Lady was finally able to stand, looking down to her body, her usual attire and thinking what would be appropriate for such a do. With few colours in her palette she would work with textures to make up the difference. Wielding the mass which constituted her body into shape she would generate an A symmetrical sleeveless dress, crimson red to catch the eye. Bold and attractive before moving to additional layers, a porous lace like substance which would layer the dress, dark so to give the dress contrast before finally using the lattice of the lace to allow vines to creep finalizing the pattern of the dress. Three layered, elegant, exquisite in composition and yet all created by little more than herself. Her tails thusly were made slender, their barbs polished into something that could retract, forming little more than ivory prisms at their tips. Finally ready for the ball.

Lady Marrow would have entered, claiming a masque from the kiosk and placing it across her face as she would move in among the crowd with swan-like grace. Her pace would glide with her gaze as she would observe the room, shocked to find another girl cozying up to her master. Eyes would lock with the girl as she would glance across the room. ~Who the hell is she ~ Lady Marrow would contemplate silently, before wading through the crowd, whoever it was... she would convince herself for now that they didn't matter. That their presence beside him was nothing more than formality, a passing moment as her eyes would look to others in attendance, nodding to her master from within the crowd, giving him some indication of her arrival before approaching another creature that seemed to have similar eyes to her. Attracted, Lady Marrow would approach Ishani Dinn who seemed to be prying from the crowd with an object in hand.

A curious thrill, something residual from an untrimmed persona had the barefooted beauty move swift as a swallow through the crowd, ducking and moving with serene silence to catch up as they moved to open the lid.

"What do you have there?" The sweet voice of the now taller lady marrow would echo, a middling 5'3" but leaning inquisitively with intrigue. "Is that a gift of some kind? Who gave it to you?" Honeyed words of silk and charm escaped her lips. A higher voice like that of a young adult, yet to be audited by its crafter, but such things were complicated and took so much time. She would await answers, her almost uranium green eyes transfixed on the box.

​

 

[Felix Aquila]

Attire: Clothing // Mask
Equipment: Thunderbird Talon - // Light-saber


"I Must not Fear, Fear is the Mind-Killer, I Will Face my Fear, Permit it to Pass Over me and Through me, And When it has Gone Past I Will Turn my Inner Eye to See its Path..." Felix could recall the words of the sensational poet whose works had been handed down through his family for an age. They were the fanciful words of a would be despot, transfixed on understanding ones reservations and being able to move past them. Before this particular writer lost a child, consumed with mad grief to become something more warlike and cynical, creating an alternate version of the text which would inevitably reflect as such. Felix, didn't like the Sith. As an organization he had considered it best summed up as a competition to see who the greatest monster could be. Thus he bore no love for their organization, especially since events which had transpired between himself and a rather unique vampress, whom he dearly hoped wouldn't appear within these hallowed halls.

That would be two balls that he had been to where he would end up having to draw a weapon, but this time... this time he hoped it'd be different.

He was apprehensive, fear had mottled his eye colour into that of a dirty yellow, those eyes which seemed aglow to only such an extent that it seemed that no matter how shaded, masked or hooded. Someone who looked his way would always spy the colour of his iris' which held a sort of ephemeral yet effervescent quality. For this event Felix wore a dress uniform, befitting his station as one of the Knights Obsidian, matching symmetrical cuff-links boasted the symbols of the KO as well as the diamond icon of house Aquila, denoting a strange co-loyalty to some. The empty scabbard of a dress sword hung regally at his side, the hilt of his own personal blade attached for self defense to complete the ensemble while he had the shield portion of his thunder-bird gauntlet hidden beneath his sleeve. It was the duty of a knight to remain ready at all times, it was the policy of the Lords of Ryloth to always be ready for a duel.

His mask was a matching gold and black features, checkered patterns cut to filigree in stark contrasts inverting the gold trimming of his black on black jacket boasting a vine silhouette that was vivid enough to keep the clothing from appearing matte and bland, while subtle enough to not attract the eye to it in any form. The gold he wore, legitimate, his fashion labelled and impeccable bordering that of planetary royalty with none of the gaudy additions which the likes of such Moffs and Viceroys could often fall into. The traps of opulance were many, and it seemed that true students of La Politique Royale were few and far between.

Whether it be thanks to the masks others donned as he entered the common area, he wouldn't recognize any among the guests here, other than Arktus... The Shaper. Presiding over the events with an Empyrean gaze, enough to make those surrounding him feel small. Consort at his side with a hand patting her as he moved past, he hadn't felt a giant in the force like him before... But even with the man withholding his power, he carried himself as though it shone like a sun-born supernova.

His entrance was announced, 'Felix Aquila of Ryloths House Aquila.' Felix would nod and enter confidently. However, Felix would move to mingle, looking among the guests to see a slender, elegant wire mask across the face of a guest with a blond bob. It looked iconic, enough to catch the eye as Felix would make his approach, spinning to lift a small entree plate which moved to reload the table with a graceful pivot. Matching the momentum of the servant to not interrupt their movement he would round off the turn on his heel, moving to approach the slight of frame girl.

"Entrée? These are really quite delicious." He'd question, presenting the light plate, laid out with five bite sized snacks which he had procured. A smile peeking out of the broken mask design. Should Quinn Varanin answer him however, he couldn't help but stop... he knew that voice, unless she was masking it, but he was unable to place it. It was Felix's job to know royalties and dignitaries, yet alone one who hailed from the planet that was the home-world of one of the Exarchs. The blonde however threw him, causing his mind to search. "I apologize, but I swear i know you from somewhere. I'm Felix, of Ryloth."

He'd present a hand to make her acquaintance, and hopefully she would be receptive. Else, he'd have to yet again drum up the courage to risk the roulette that this party presented with any given encounter.

​

 

[Srina Talon]

Corbos - The Shaper's Palace
Tag: Arctus Silmar + [OPEN]
Dressed: X | X | X
_________________________________________________________
​

Grand arching ceilings rose overhead while a seemingly young woman walked unhurriedly toward reception. Her steps were light, airy, and she only paused to allow a member of the domestic staff to take the outer layer of her clothing. She had no weapon to check-in, mostly, because she didn’t trust anyone to handle her armaments correctly. She also wasn’t certain they would be returned given that the intent of her host was less than clear. Sumptuous music poured forth from somewhere nearby and the wintry creature found herself at a standstill at the precipice of a gilded staircase.

Time seemed to slow. Entrances. Exits. Windows. Guests—Attendees. She observed all of it from a distance and knew that the swath of Knights Obsidian present would make the same deductions. Her newly acquired Apprentice ( Kyyrk ) should also be making his rounds shortly. They would be fools not to. For all of her time fielding diplomatic events for the Confederacy, she had actually never conducted any business with the Sith Empire on their own soil. She had met the predecessors of Arctus Silmar on previous occasions. Where were they now?

To arrive without a full complement of Magnaguard was considered almost heresy by many advisors. The flaxen-haired woman had, rather purposefully, declined. She believed that she could handle herself no matter the situation. If the goal of this soirée was, somehow, to make an enemy of her? Of the Confederacy of Independent Systems? So be it. They would reap what had been sewn in the most definitive way possible. Her people referred to her by many names.

Most notably—Exarch. The Dread Queen. It would be most fortuitous for the Sith Empire if the latter persona was left to rest. Sleep, undisturbed.

“Might I aid you, ma’am? The path is this way…”, one of the servants piped up, ever helpful, and almost seeming to seek her approval. Mercurial orbs swept over the fastidiously dressed young man and the soft voice that left her lips caused him to take a step back. “No.”

It was one word. Only, one. The diminutive Echani had done nothing to warrant such a response. There was no threat. No disrespect, no discourtesy. She was a full head shorter than he and strikingly beautiful, and yet, he had the burning desire to remove himself from her presence as quickly as possible. There was something wrong about her. Off. A song without sound, a painting without color, the devil, indeed wearing white.

“Y-Your mask, ma’am.”

He forgot to offer the gift box.

Srina accepted the silver mask and let the cool weight settle between her palms for a moment. A quick survey told her that the mask hadn’t been altered or alchemized in any way. Her suspicious and shrewd nature was not born out of nothingness. She knew the true nature of a Sith. Srina had learned it well since visiting Korriban at the behest of Darth Empyrean . Those that existed within the Confederacy drew the gifts from a similar well—But they were not the same. She would trust only her own within these walls—And even then, only, as much as her instincts would allow.

Seemingly delicate hands reached up to remove the hood of her embroidered gray cloak and snowy white locks tumbled freely down her back. Nimble fingers obliged the request of her host and she tied the mask securely as she began to move forward once more. It was akin to a statue suddenly deciding to come to life. Several extravagant hallways eventually gave way to an equally luxurious ballroom. This was a drastically different experience than visiting the First Order on Avalonia. So different, in fact, that it seemed like night and day. Srina mentally took note.

The ballroom was already filling to the brim and the Echani woman passed through the crowd as if she were made of water no matter how her attire made her stand out from the rest. Her lithe form seemed to have been poured into a fitting ivory dress. It was effective, even if, the collar was high. Skin peeked out from deliberate translucent panels along her sides but everything about her seemed contained. There was no joy in her expression. No awe at the sights—No gratefulness at the obvious, painstaking attempts, to provide a pleasant evening.

Srina was a warrior and a leader to her people, thusly, not a homemaker. She had no presence of mind to appreciate such things and left that to gentler observances like that of Lunara Azure or Felix Aquila . Silver eyes found the Scion of House Aquila near the refreshments, though, her eyes settled on the young woman ( Quinn Varanin ) that stood adjacent. There was nothing of note about her. Nothing that should have drawn her attention.

Just a feeling.

One that she had not experienced in many, many moons.

Glacier silver eyes tore from the pair and slipped through the rest of the area. The guests filtered in, coming and going from attractions like moths flickering about a flame. Her sight jumped from person to person as she passed, until finally, they landed on a raven-haired Sith Lord that she recognized.

Ah. The Host.

 

[Hester Shedo]

Srina Talon + Open



In her tenure as Viceroy of Scarif, Hester had achieved many things.

She had seen the rebuilding of one of the finest cities the Galaxy would come to know. She had made sure that her home world would take centre stage in galactic politics for generations to come, building a legacy for the people of her home world. She did all this for the good of the confederacy, for the good of her people.

For the good of herself.

She had had strong and powerful ambitions to climb ever higher within the government, not knowing whether it was something that she might be able to achieve in whatever time the Galaxy afforded her. She had known little comfort in the fact that the people that she served could at any moment withdraw their support and admiration for her, becoming a braying mob that sought to see her deposed and removed from office. She had worked tirelessly to make sure that they never knew hunger, never new fear, never knew the ravages of war that continuously harangued and attacked fringes of Confederate space.

She had built cities, built an army, built a home to be proud of.

When the time had come for her to take high office within the federal government, she knew all too well that her legacy would be assured if she could pull it off. She was well known within the viceroyalty, known for being an impassioned believer in the rights of the people she served, in the rights of those whom the charter was designed to protect. She had known the sacrifice of the people of Scarif, who had given their lives above the planets of The Sith Empire in battle after battle. She had seen them returned and buried with honours.

What was left of them.

Exarch Srina Talon had made herself known to Hester early in the process of being vetted for Minister of Influence. Hester had always turned a good phrase, loyally supporting the Vicelord and the Presidium in their efforts to bring justice and reform to their corner of the galaxy. Her first public outing as the newly appointed Minister was one of ever-growing nerve and frustration. Frustration because it unnerved her so much. She knew how to look after the common man so easily; that was why they loved her so publicly. But to think above them? To think of the wider Confederacy on such a level took some adjusting.


Her new job called for many things; to represent the day-to-day running of the departments of diplomacy and all things Federal in nature. On any other occasion, she would be considered quite a senior Confederate figure. But here? With the Exarch present?

She arrived promptly, dressed in a newly commissioned piece for the evening. Her wardrobe was always consistent with the needs of the event, perfectly complimenting the overtones that such recourse required. This latest dress, with full sleeve and covered shoulders, brought the colours of Scarif, the Confederacy and the Sith Empire in a tasteful union, a heavy silk forming a large skirt that swept along the floor gracefully. Her red hair lay on her shoulders, a circlet of silver sat atop the crown of her head.

She motioned through the doors of the great reception hall, her newly acquired mask handed to her. It was a strange form and made her laugh.

How many masks are worn tonight but cannot be seen, she wondered. She watched the Exarch, taking her in. She made motions towards her, gently nodding her head in a deep bow.

“Exarch Talon. I am pleased to see you here! I find myself adrift in a sea of strangers.”

 

[Amelia von Sorenn]

CORBOS - THE SHAPER'S PALACE​

Attire: | X | X |
Tags: Srina Talon | Lunara Azure | Hester Shedo | Felix Aquila | Open

It seemed that since she had taken up seclusion in the farthest reaches of Ukio that the Galaxy had not changed all that much - with conflict still the name of the game as countless worlds were taken, retaken, devastated, and swallowed whole into the darkness - so much so in fact, that even now the Confederacy had gathered their Viceroyalty to debate on the refugee question and Monastery's growing crisis both on the surface and in orbit. It surprised her little that she heard about at least one such Viceroy making a bellicose demand, followed by a threat, and ultimately their personal withdrawal from the chambers - her youngest daughter Imperia von Sorenn being a Viceroy ensured that a few choice bits of information and knowledge found its way to the woman, keeping the former Grand Marshal of Naval Command still tapped into the beating pulse of the Confederacy even with her own personal isolation keeping her from the public eye.

In fact, this very event would be the first she had been seen in public - though save for a select few in the Confederacy that would likely be able to pick her out without hesitation or a second glance - there was very little chance that others outside of those few would even know that Amelia was attending the masquerade event. She had arrived in a timely manner - a few short steps behind her Confederate compatriots - an alluring gown of reds and black draped over her figure with pendants, trinkets, and chains flowing over her figure; each shimmering and producing a soft melodic jingle with even the slightest of moves. The mask was large and ornate - a fiery red-orange mixed with gold that seemed to accent the gown that she wore - the designs and visage of the mask intended to draw attention to the eyes, from which two golden-yellow spheres peered out.

Passing by those servants that were handing out additional masks, she made no effect to even collect the box that was also being offered - not too trusting of anything that a Sith would willingly part with. Stopping for a moment just inside of the entrance, she could appreciate the music that began to ring out through the hall, admiring the voice of the young woman that was singing before she carefully moved her attention over those that had also arrived in such a timely manner. For a moment they had settled on the Exarch - Srina Talon - a woman of exquisite beauty, and one which was difficult to not notice in any situation.

Naturally, she would be inclined to drift closer to those that she knew - even if a couple of their faces were unknown to her - she was still more at ease with her fellow Confederates than with those that were also in attendance. Likewise, if anything were to happen, it also served a purpose that she be nearest the Exarch and those that she could rely upon in such an instance as a conflict cropping up - though she rather prefered that she'd be able to enjoy the gathering for a bit before any such inconvenience.

"Ladies, Srina..."

Amelia bowed her head slightly, her attention remaining upon them for a moment before slowly slipping over the room once more. Always vigilant and ever watchful for any such possibility of a trap or other such nefarious plot that may potentially unfold that night.

​

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Felix Aquila //: Srina Talon //:

Hands delicately clapped together when the names of specific people were announced. Luckily for her, she had been able to avoid such an embarrassment. Arms crossed against her chest lightly as her eyes lazily gazed, taking in the crowd. Without her notice, someone had gotten close to her and shoved a plate of food in front of her. Surprise etched across her fair features as she gave the man her full attention. “Oh?” she responded, her voice unmasked.

Much like her progenitors, Quinn was not one to hide who she was and where she came from. Carefully she picked up one of the small-sized bits of food by the wooden stick and examined it. “Nice to meet you, Felix of Ryloth.” Quinn ate the bit of food, and when she finished, she nodded. “That was good, thank you, as for knowing me - you probably know my parents more than anything.” Tilting her head, Quinn introduced herself, “Quinn Varanin. My mother is Spencer Varanin, Queen of Eshan” She shrugged, trying to ignore what it all meant. Unlike noble houses and having some power, Quinn was a princess - in line for royalty, whether for the Eshan throne or even the Sith Empire.

During the conversation with the Ryloth noble, Quinn felt the gaze of another on her. In a quick instance, her eyes met with the silver-haired Exarch. The woman’s face was recognizable as someone Quinn had seen several times in her mother’s court. Quinn had wondered what had happened to the Talon girl, knowing that the woman had become someone of importance within the Confederacy. Still, she remembered how her mother doted upon the girl, speaking of Srina’s accomplishments as if she was her own child.

Quinn gave a soft smile of recognition, one that Srina would recognize as the girl’s mother’s typical gesture of familiarity to the Exarch. The moment passed, and Quinn turned her attention back to Felix.

“How is Ryloth? Recovering well from their encounter with that one terrorist group? Uh,” Quinn patted her chin slightly as she tried to remember the name of the group, “Oh, was it the Agents of Chaos or something silly like that?”​

 

[Zeptepi Zambrano]

Standing guard in the foyer outside the main hall doors.

The Crusader and military Captain led the security team, just a bunch of kids. She let her Apprentice believe it is herself who gave out the assignment, but in reality the obligation was dropped into her lap. As the Pillar of Education, someone decided she should make it a learning experience for everyone.

She is more than half tempted to let this be a lesson to the higher-ups who chose her against her will. At fourteen years of age, the Zambrano youth has accomplished alot but she also has a secretive naughty side which she simply must unleash when inspired.

Business is business, and she is all about the business in all seriousness…
ALWAYS so serious about obligations!
But just not this!
This is not her thing.
Since when should it be?
And what sort of message does this send to her Apprentice?
This being…?
Is this people watching detail?
What is this exactly?
AND WHY?
Why me?
Did someone assigned to the regiment under her command happen to piss off Ole Arctus Silmar in some fashion?
Business she respects.
This isn't business however; that's what this is!
This is an invite to shenanigans Zeza style!

'Servants do this kind of toiling. And here they are, right here with me! Who the heck do they think is going to ambush us?' she wondered in spite, as her bottom lip began to recoil, her mind roiling in contemplation. With all the guests…there are so many games she could play.

"How you doing over there, Valen Arenais?" she said, taking up her communicator on her shoulder. "I got seven people who tried to enter without a mask," she said watching the non-force user servants try and force masks into every Sith's hand. "Can you believe the gall?!"

'People ought have more respect for their host. Shouldn't they?'
​

 

[Kuben Woods]

Tags: Arctus Silmar , Open

Wearing: Ceremonial Armor (no shield or weapon)

Objective: Serve the Emperor and observe the CIS

Damian had entered slightly later than the rest who had arrived tonight, making it a personal duty to ensure that the grounds of the palace hadn't been tampered with or otherwise were currently having to deal with outside intrusion. His garb for tonight, was more for ceremony since he no longer had any uniforms that were either correct nor fit his current station. The armor he wore was polished, had been cleaned, and otherwise was looking more than professional. He once again served his Empire and her Emperor, this time albeit a bit more directly, however he made a mental not to get something more fitting of a Sith Lord. As walking around in full battle armor probably wasn't the best idea.

In my day that's all we wore to events such as these, your armor was your pride and anyone who said otherwise was a spineless weasel.

You don't ever shut up do you?

That was the other reason he'd chosen this armor. The voice in his head, apparently belonging to whatever Netherworld spirit Shaper had used to bond the very metal to his bones, hadn't stopped talking since its arrival. And Damian was still getting used to having it constantly scratch at his consciousness, constantly speak in several tongues and almost always want to get into a fight for some reason. To keep it from ruining more of the clothes than it already had, Damian had decided that a properly cleaned, polished, and otherwise base armor would probably serve him better. The blasted thing liked to at times cause the blades across his body to emerge, which as one might think would ruin any sort of normal fabric. One perk of this though, was that unlike most armors of its weight and size, this one was perfectly silently, especially as it sat now. Damian had meticulously ensured that it would not otherwise provide distraction nor irritation. Which was why when he entered the place and was asked by the servants if he would prefer a mask, the man simply stared at them. He didn't need to nor wished to say a word for his response and they simply nodded in return as he continued. He would spot the guest of honor for tonight as she had apparently spotted his master, his emperor.

Ooohhhh she's pretty, looks like she can fight too. I wonder where she hails from. Probably not half bad in a scuffle.

You will not do any such thing. She is here at my master's invitation.

Awww look at you! So cute for sticking up for yourself.

I said no! Now be quiet.

He could feel the voice "roll it's eyes" at him. Damian would look for vantage points across the hall, knowing that his master would have his own security in place. Or a lack thereof because many would not be foolish enough to challenge him. He would find a place that was close enough that should he be summoned he would be able to respond quickly, while also being able to watch most of the room before him. He had served. He would be of service.

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

the M I S T R E S S
M A L C O N T E N T​

​

Pomstychtivé, the eternal wallflower, once settled to exist as second best to Darth Metus ' baby-cakes who stole all his time and attention from their Master. Quite scandalous how Srina Talon did so! One can only speculate based on how he raved about her, he drooled seemingly endlessly. The relationship between the Nightsisters, and the Nightbrothers is a very complicated one. This Witch hadn't seen her old Master since she kneed him in his balls the last time he tried to pretend to care about her. Maybe he suffered lasting effects, because since then he could attend the same soiree and never entertain so much as an inquiry in her direction.

She has indeed come a long way, settled into her purpose, apart from the Mandragora, or whatever her sister has rebranded the old Confederacy coven for now. How Vytal labored to inspire to attract more members, while the distance ever grew between. Pom's path led her to far different responsibilities, those where she does not stress so much on engaging others but trusts that when their time to learn different aspects of Magick has come those interested shall be led to her. Aside from her different life path, she respects the age old value of family beat into her mind since her youth, and never felt much concerning a loss over her change in residence apart from the CIS Mandragora, as experienced when it was still new to her. She knows that time cannot remove family no matter how messed up and quirky it may be interwoven. Unlike the common goal of the Sith, she has no intention of cutting herself out of it.

She has unlocked so much power beyond what she could have ever imagined since coming here. The very best of TSE instructors did not forsake her. Her family has expanded to many extended members, and regardless of her provincial ways, she never felt like an outsider while there are so many eccentric Sith!



The Matriarch approached the main doors and shooed the underling who attempted to draw her attention to masking her perfectly stenciled brow. She rendered a loving smile for her daughter Zeptepi Zambrano who's eyes endlessly alighted with a sparkle of admiration and wonder for her Mother. Pom believes she shall come into her potential quite soon. The added responsibilities she fought for Zeza have suited her development well.

"You be sure to enjoy yourself as well this night, Dear," the Matriarch bid as she passed by, her daughter towering over her stature by nearly a foot already. "Come and find me later on." At that Pom slipped inside, likely to go unnoticed amidst the others who always seem to have an agenda all plotted out during such gatherings.

​

 

[Kyyrk]

Wearing this for the duration of the thread

E S C O R T
​

The Empire. The name sent a shiver down the spine of the Progenitor. Though he had no definable memories of the place, the thought of it made his stomach turn. Things had happened to him in the Empire. Bad things. Come to think of it, many of the scars that adorned his body were as a result of the Empire. He'd been granted a data packet concerning the Empire to review during the journey. Much of this modern Empire rang familiar to him. The memory routes rebuilt themselves quickly. Voph didn't know how he felt traveling unarmed, but it made little difference. They would not have been allowed in with weapons anyway. He just hoped instinct would permit him to improvise, if the need arose.

Voph had entered the venue in advance of Srina Talon , beginning his sweep of the party area. Doors. Windows. Structural weak points. All were silently noticed and cataloged. Not because he planned to attack, but because he planned to be attacked. Paranoia, some called it. This mindset that Voph had devolved to. But deep down, Voph knew better. Instinct. Years of Sphere of Mysteries training was paying off. Or had damaged him so deeply that he was forced to obey it. It was anyone's guess, really. Either way, it served him well in this moment. It was his duty to ensure the protection of his master, and his duty he would perform.

As he strode through the doors, he was offered a mask, which he declined. His helmet provided enough mystery to his person. Besides, in the land of the Sith, he wasn't about to put his face on display. Not with the newfound....changes. A small box was offered in place of the mask, but Voph was already gone, pressing further into the chambers. Curiosity gnawed at the back of his mind, but he didn't trust hand-outs. Least of all, not from the Sith. As the crowd began pouring in, Voph adapted, moving through them as if he were not even there at all.

When he finally came to rest at Srina's side, it was readily apparent that he was a member of her entourage. His robes matched the dress that she wore, but carried a certain sense of individuality to them. This was not the dress of a soldier, nor a drone, but an apprentice. The metal of his gauntlets and greaves, as well as the adornments on his helmet, shone in the light. Simplistic, yet formal. Voph fell in step at Srina's right flank, trailing just behind her, but close enough that she could still hear him as he spoke. "Area is secure. The Knights are establishing perimeter." As he spoke, he handed her a small mug. Tea. Hot and fresh, as her request, obtained from the wait staff. He sought no refreshment for himself, he had already eaten on the journey here. His concerns rested solely with his master.

Voph's head turned as an individual approached them from the crowd. Minister Hester Shedo . Upon seeing her face, an image flashed through his mind. Scarif. A fleet. Beaten and battered. Safety. Scarif offered a moment of respite. He may not remember who exactly Hester was, but he remembered that she had been an ally to Vylmira in the days after the Cataclysm. But be that as it may, she had not been entrusted with his secret. If she was well informed, Voph had disappeared into the Netherworld to search for the cause of the cataclysm. If she were not? Voph had died several months prior when his flagship, the Desolation, was destroyed during a Xeno incursion. Either way, she would not know the true being who stood before her. Merely a lackey of the Exarch's. He didn't trust her with the truth yet.

He stepped aside to make room for her as she approached the Exarch, but still remaining close by. A highly attentive apprentice was a good apprentice. Was that not the ideology held by the Sith? Regardless, it was readily apparent that he was not injecting himself into whatever conversation may follow, but he was certainly present near the arm of his master. Tonight? He was no longer Voph, the ancient Sith. He was merely Iskellion. Loyal apprentice to the Exarch, attentive servant of the Confederacy, and fierce defender if need be. He did not carry a lightsaber, nor did he feel the call of the Force, but he was no stranger to such. This would not be the first time he'd faced down an army of Sith bare handed. And this time? He even had backup...

​

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

Wearing: X | X
Tag: Srina Talon | Oleander Webb | Hester Shedo | Feliz Aquila | @Luara Azure | Amelia von Sorenn | Kyyrk

Since leaving Stewjon Gerwald had only ventured into Sith pace one other time, the invasion of Dantooine. It had not been his desire to aid the Sith in any capacity, but the defense agreement which had been in place at the time saw him swallowing what he wanted for the sake of making good on something he was sworn to uphold. His duty was to the Confederacy and her agreements. Any disputes he had were voiced privately, and he had certainly made his thoughts known in regards to aiding Sith, especially when it had been a Sith that ended the life of the woman he loved.​

​

He was in their space once more, as apprehensive as ever. A new leader among the Sith meant new negotiations. This one would want guarantees, or have hopes of deepening the relationship between the nations. His interest in Exarch Talon was one which made Gerwald question how much of this event was truly about diplomacy. Why request the Exarch and not the Vicelord? It seemed odd, but Gerwald was supposed to pick up on what seemed odd. After all, tonight, he was her security.​

​

There was one other with him, Oleander Webb . Whether it was by happenstance, or Gerwald’s design, the Anzat had become a pupil of Gerwald’s. The creature was a dealer of death, and would hopefully feel right at home amongst the many shadows and dark things which would occupy the hall. Gerwald wondered if one could hide in the shadows when that was all which surrounded them.​

​

“There are several Knights in this room. Do as you wish, mingle among the crowd, remain alert, however, I do not trust this Empire or any loyal to it. They are ever only friendly for a reason.”​

​

His words to the Anzat were not permission to find some unsuspecting victim to feed on, but rather permission that he did not need to remain glued to the lupine’s side. Certainly this would be an event to introduce his squire to some in attendance which were of some influence in the Confederacy. Whether Oleander followed him or not, Gerwald approached the growing circle of Confederate delegates.​

​

Large hand tugged at the coat the lupine was wearing. This was a masquerade after all, and if he was going to look the part of one attending, he would at least make an attempt at a costume. Even with the mask secure on his face, those who knew him would recognize the mane of hair which he allowed to be free. Long hair lay to rest on his shoulders as his cadence quickly fell in behind that of the Exarch. While Kyyrk was making his own rounds, Gerwald would stand as an imposing figure next to his mistress.​

​

The White Woman.​

​

Dread Queen.​

​

A grin pulled at his lips as the Miraluka spoke. It would seem Gerwald’s presence might be superfluous, but the Lord Commander would not allow Srina Talon to venture into the Sith Empire alone. It was not that she could not take care of herself, rather that her focus demanded that her attention not be divided. Regardless, the wolf knew she would account for every exit and every weapon in the room, including the two lightsabers which Gerwald kept concealed underneath the jacket he wore. He did not rule out that the evening could end with violence, and it was his duty to be prepared for it.​

​

“I do not suppose you found any mead while getting that cup of tea,” his words questioned Srina’s apprentice.​

​

The wolf held both a sense of relief and anger when it came to the man. Voph had simply left. His only word was to the Dread Queen herself, and it was from her Gerwald had learned of what had been planned. What had it been for? Voph no longer remembered anyone, not even the lupine he had chosen as successor. Were it not for the fact the Miraluka did not remember any of it, Gerwald would have had stronger words and an even more vicious bite.​

​

Two women also approached. One Hester Shedo, the Minister of Influence, had made her presence known. She looked resplendent in what was likely her first outing among this particular empire. Gerwald nodded at her approach and waited for her to finish speaking before his reassurance.​

​

“With time you will grow accustomed to the feeling, but do not allow that to bring a sense of false security, not among these. You will do fine tonight.”​

​

His eyes next turned to Von-Soren. They had met on several occasions. Her prowess as fleet commander was well known to the wolf, and he was glad to see she had ventured out from her recent solitude for the event.​

​

“Minister Shedo, Lady von Sorenn, might I introduce you to Oleander Webb. He is one of the Knights which will be personally overseeing security, but please, feel free to help him enjoy the event as well.”​

​

Blue eyes scanned the room. Where Srina Talon was for a social event, Lunara Azure would not be far behind. It was likely her handiwork behind the attire the Exarch was wearing. Whether or not the blonde would be seen on his arm at some point through the night was yet to be determined. For now, Gerwald was content to remain focused on his reasons for being present. Still, it did not take long for him to find the woman.​

​

< “You look as exquisite as always. Have an extra drink for me tonight will you?” >​

​

His words were simply meant to let the woman know he had arrived. If she chose to find him, then that would be her decision. There was one more message his mind needed to deliver. One to the Exarch herself.​

​

< “I do not trust them… still. Do be cautious. Something seems… off to me, out of place.” >​

​

 

[Felix Aquila]

Attire: Clothing // Mask
Equipment: Thunderbird Talon - // Light-saber

And just like that, everything made sense,

Eyes would momentarily widen as the cool calculated and immaculately tailored visage of the young lord would shatter for a fraction of a moment. A widening of the eyes, the veins within his eyes poisoning the apprehensive yellow with the marmalade red of shock like fissures which would tear through the amber, rending it apart before sealing like open wounds, leaving not a trace nor colourd scar behind to remember them by as he would recover in turn. He should have known, and if he hadn't said anything the moment she flashed a smile, made famous by her mother he liked to think that he would have picked it out. He could have blamed her hair, the mask and more but the features of the Echani were distinct enough that he could have surmised.

"You're Mother's considered a Hero by some... " Felix would utter in a contemplative manner, nodding to himself as she would reveal her identity. "But I know about you as well... I happen to know a thing or two about filling big shoes." He'd smile, sincerely, taking a bite from one of the hors d'oeuvres. While Ryloth had no royalty to speak of, their family was once synonymous with its leadership, above that of the puppet viceroy that was put in place on the world, the gateway of the mara corridor. The Agents of Chaos had done damage to Ryloth's infrastructure, it was true, people were displaced the episode was a nightmare. But Ryloth was a hard place where people lived hard lives. Death, drought and disorder were bread and butter to its people, but they had help.

"Times have been hard, there's no denying that. A lot of people are gone, and more in need of the most basic things. Ryloths missing any form of real leadership at the moment... The viceroy died in the incident and anyone else scattered. But we'll get there." The boy exuded confidence, albeit blind. Felix was unsure about everything when it came to Ryloth, allies seemed so far away in the modern era, scarce, scattering to the winds when times became hard causing those mired within the sands to harden with them or perish.

"What about Eshan? Hows the weather been?" He'd almost snicker, an attempt at lightening the mood, naturally both of their homeworlds were deserts. He could have asked about the orbital bombardments, the death of the Queen or other current events, however surrounded by members of the Sith he didn't much wish to bring up painful memories which could inspire passion. He was careful, if not a little hesitant. It would be a wave of calm that followed, his eyes moving over the crowd, watching as Srina Talon , the ice Queen herself strode across the floor parting the guests big and small like a rock parting waves. Not for a moment did she need to break her stride as she approached the father of maleficence.

He really hoped that this party wouldn't go up in a blaze of glory... but with so much tension there was bound to be a fight, all it'd take was for someone to draw the whole damn nether would follow with it.



​

 

[Alina Tremiru]

How long had it been since she was last at a party? The only one she truly remembered was the hated Sithmas party where her mother forced her into attendance in an awful green dress. No, wait. There was that ball thrown in her honor. Not that it was one she wanted to remember. The evenings festivity cut short by a difference of opinions and her own anger.

And even walking through these doors to this particular event she could feel the source of that anger close by. The young Lord walked with her head held high, dressed not in a gown or such that might of been expected. No, a more regal suit adorned her shoulders. She kept her head high, golden eyes scanning through the crowd for familiar faces.

There were few. Far more she simply didn't recognize.

She did her best not to glare in the direction of Felix Aquila , though she couldn't help herself. There was another familiar person close by. Quinn? Oddly enough, it was good to see her out and about. But her attention was pulled to only one in the room.

Arctus Silmar .

Alina stopped just shy of him, a calm smile on her lips. "Quite the interesting party you've decided to throw."

 

[Milou Ishkal]

Tags: O P E N​

The voice had gone quiet. Months, it had been now, with no direction given. The incorporeal master whom Milou had never known was no longer with her. For months it left her uncertain, deciding to stick to the shadows until new direction was given. Time changed nothing, however, and so Milou slowly emerged once more. Masterless, but as fixated on her craft as ever. She was a weapon yet to be perfected.

It was perhaps a strange thing, then, that the woman was in attendance of a masked ball. There were no targets here; a slightly younger Milou would have found it a waste of time, but without the looming presence of the voice she could allow herself to indulge in the atmosphere just a little. She had known nothing but her craft for years, so much so that all else had been forgotten about. A little bit of relaxation was not all too bad, she now got to find out.

Intrigue was what truly grasped her, though. So many people, some merely seeking entertainment while others surely had clear motives and ambitions. Milou wanted to pick at various minds, find out just what brought them here. If nothing else, it was good practice for other events such as this one. The ability to let oneself blend into a crowd was invaluable for a person such as herself.

All she needed now was a willing subject.