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

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Felix Aquila //: Alina Tremiru //:

Quinn nodded at the mention of her mother. She was unsure what Felix was trying to do with mentioning the woman and the heroism she had inspired in others. A part of her wondered if he was going to say Ashin Varanin as well. Typically when Spencer was mentioned, Ashin's name soon followed in the stories. Both were the same but different sides of the same coin, much like Quinn and her twin sister Noelle. Quinn finished the sampling of food and let her arms rest gently across her midsection.

More faces appeared while Felix explained the situation on Ryloth. Quinn remembered how her mother pretended the planet never existed - primarily for her historical rivalry with a specific twi'lek. The princess chuckled softly at the joke about the Eshan weather, and she shrugged. "It is what it is. Cold, sometimes warm - but always pleasurable for the most part." She didn't want to talk about Eshan; while it being her home, she had no say in the planet's runnings. Her sister and her mother took care of that.

"I heard of the Viceroy's death. I'm sorry to hear." She let her eyes wander slightly, seeing more take their place in the masquerade. While Quinn watched, something familiar began to pull at her mind. Raising an eyebrow, she mused over who would have this much of a pull on her mind. Whoever it was, it felt as if they were almost begging for her attention. "I'm surprised there hasn't been someone to step up? Ryloth didn't have anyone in preparation under the Viceroy in case of something like this were to occur?" Even with her mother's untimely death, someone was waiting and willing to take the mantle of leadership.

Quinn brushed a stray strand of blonde hair from the front of her wire mask. When she did, her amber eyes took in the sight of someone she hadn't seen in some time. Her lips curled into a grin as she looked towards Alina. When the woman did glance her way, Quinn would wink and bit her lower lip for just a second. Finally, their eyes met, and the moment passed.

"Ah, what do the Twi'lek's have to say in all of this? I'm sure their governing families and parties have some idea on how to lead their planet - isn't Ryloth their homeworld?" Her eyebrows raised slightly, seeing that Felix didn't quite look Twi'lek, and she was curious.​

 

[Laertia Io]

Wearing: Ursula's Robes

Armed with: The Sword of Cinndurr

Objective: Mingle.

Came to Corbos in: TIE Avenger


21 hours earlier.

Syd? Syd please. Please talk to me. I...I know it's about Starlin. He attacked me first!

Xiphos meditated in the solitude of her quarters aboard The Absolution Of Loste. Her bond with Syd felt even more muted ever since that encounter with Starlin Rand .

No response. Xiphos struggled to control a rapidly growing disquiet.

How could she have changed her mind after what she saw at Sarka?

Xiphos felt so alone now. And she found herself hating Starlin for twisting Syd's mind. She couldn't actually be listening to him. The kid was making himself a unquestioning lackey hook, line, and sinker! He must really believe it was worth it, trying to fight both. Fine. Let him die.

In an ever expanding search for more allies to fight the Bryn'adul, Xiphos now found herself going to her first truly formal event, in an area a person who had lived most of their life as Brute would find totally alien.

A party. An actual, full on formal fething party. CIS would be in attendance, so Xiphos had a modicum of safety. Besides, with all the battles she had been in on their behalf, she had to have earned at least some hesitance to attack her.

Xiphos was dressed in the only thing she had that truly counted as formal wear: The white and red robes of "Ursula".

Even the clothes on her very back were due to The Amalgam's support. Unflinching support.

Xiphos didn't know how to feel except to apologize to her parents silently.

Xiphos was practically alone on the ship today, save for a few Model 1's doing the piloting. Her other children were off on different assignments. She was soloing it today, or so she believed.

She decided to go in her equivalent of style as her cruiser entered Corbos's system on CIS diplomatic clearance. She had acquired a vintage TIE Avenger reproduction thanks to one of her Patron's, Arianna Belasko , shelling out one of her typically large expenditures.

Xiphos felt odd being supported almost solely by monstrosities in her quest to save the Galaxy.

You're not really on the side of the angels. Maybe all you ever were was a necessary evil... Xiphos thought as she moved down the docking tunnel connecting her ship to the Avenger.

She was deeply discomforted at the thought as she fired up the controls, heading to the Palace coordinates...

Twenty minutes later...

The TIE Avenger streaked through the atmosphere, landing at designated coordinates.

As she got out, getting closer to the main doors of the great palace, she tried not to scowl, even as her stomach turned as she spotted one of The Amalgam's Witches, one she had fought alongside twice now, named The Battalion, an athletic and beautiful woman of middle age with pale skin and long, curly dark brown hair, clad in an absolutely skintight white catsuit, a single red jeweled amulet wrapped around her neck.

The Witch spotted her, she herself walking up to the main doors. It was serendipity they should run into each other.

"Why Lady Xiphos, never pictured you trying to crash a party..." The Witch said in a coy tone, slinking closer, both about twenty meters from the main doors.

"There's always a first time for everything." Xiphos muttered.

"One can only hope..." The Battalion flirted. "You look divine."

Xiphos remained stone faced.

"Your cult's founder murdered and dismembered my parents."

"Aw, why live in the past? You certainly don't. You're still working with us to stop The Bryn'adul. Why not just let that pretense die?" The Battalion asked, crooking an eyebrow in fascination. "Are you even truly angry they are dead? How can you claim a daughter's love for people you never knew? At this point, the Cult of The Brain Demon has been more of a family to you than Morris and Lysandra Crownwraithe ever were."

Xiphos's cyborg eye, with a gray iris and a faint hint of gold at the center, twitched.

The Battalion held up her hands in mock placation.

"Honest Question! But don't take it so literally. I mean, I get that they sacrificed themselves for you, but who was the one that gave you what you needed to be as powerful as you are? One of us. Who had your back ever since Dantooine? All of us. Why bother putting up a front of hostility any longer?"

"Does Amy know you flirt with me, Witch?"

"Amy is willing to do whatever it takes to bring you into the fold at last...even if it means my...charms...must be put to use." The Battalion said seductively, slinking closer.

Xiphos's mutated bronze and green eye focused on her face.

"You're a honey trap." Xiphos said in realization.

"Of course." The Battalion replied with a chuckle that made Xiphos's blood run colder than it normally did.

"Why admit it so quickly?" Xiphos asked in mild curiosity.

"Those are the most effective type, the ones who admit it..." The Battalion answered confidently, turning away. "Enjoy the party, Xiphos."

The Witch took the mask of a Red Devil, and walked inside. Laertia was offered a mask, but pulled out a silvery Atrisian Mask, designed to resemble the snout of a tiger and cover her mouth and jaw, but exposing her upper face, and eyes.

"Thanks. I have my own." She said, putting it on, and walking inside (Though she took the complimentary gift box). To Xiphos's immediate relief, she spotted Srina Talon and Gerwald Lechner as she walked in. Other Sith spotted her, recognizing her instantly. Some were terrified of her, survivors of the long ago Invasion of Atrisia. One dude there had barely escaped being murdered by her chainsaw. Others were strangely, in their own way, fans, and trolled her by giving the Devil Horns sign in her direction.

Xiphos began to meander her way over to the only faces she recognized beyond The Battalion. She made way for Gerwald. Strength in numbers.

 

[Felix Aquila]

Attire: Clothing // Mask
Equipment: Thunderbird Talon - // Light-saber
Tag: Quinn Varanin // Alina Tremiru

Memories and sweet could have beens seemed to hang in the air, a familiar scent of death and slavery clung to the ethereal nostrils of Felix drawing him to spy the unmistakable visage of Alina Tremiru, he almost visibly cringed a little behind his mask. This is bad... he thought to himself, he could already feel the powerful emotions well up within him, the utter failure of his attendance to the party on Gala, attempting to turn someone he thought might have actually been good deep down away from a darker path. He was foolish, naive in his approach, the truth it seemed was seldom a balm that those mired in the wasteland that was convenience would consume, even if it were to lift them from it.

His eyes, finally would pull from her back to the Echani Princess, features softening at the sound of her laugh, smiling earnestly with a genuine spark as he felt glad that he could share the company, formal as though it may be. He had the feeling her laughter was contagious, but he wondered what a princess like her, with expectations as grand as the mountains of Eshan lofted upon her shoulders did for fun.

"The leadership able to leave did so, its not a pretty story, when they came back much of their credibility was destroyed due to them having left their people. The ones that remained are all vying for control but people have all but lost their trust in politicians and tribal leaders. I think they need something more than that now... So its all in a bit of a catch twenty two scenario at the moment I'm afraid."

He seemed sorrowful on the topic, bitter pills swallowed one after the other in a scenario that was well out of his league. He and his company had worked hard ensuring that people had the fundamentals, working as charity and security for the cities that were attacked, affording people some semblance of safety when the domes had been destroyed. But it wasn't enough, there were wounds deeper than the scarred earth carved by the bombs that raked their forest world.

"But we do what we can, fix what was broken and replace what we can. Ryloth will recover... eventually... But what about you? Aside from attending parties hosted by probably the spookiest man in the galaxy. What do you do for fun? Sing? Dance? Echani Sword Juggling?"

Interest piqued, he wasn't entirely sure if sword juggling was a thing, but he was sure someone had done it. It was hard to get a read on this girl, she was polite, cordial, but if she was anything like him he had, had ettiquite drilled into his skull since the moment he was able to grip his silver spoon. The process was almost automatic now, which in a way he'd have to thank his parents for once he could actually find them. He'd take another of the small savory bites for the platter awaiting her reply, offering her another in the mean time as he awaited her answers.

​

 

[Oleander Webb]

INVENTORY: x | x | x
TAG: Gerwald Lechner | Srina Talon | Kyyrk | Amelia von Sorenn | Hester Shedo | Lunara Azure | Felix Aquila | Open

It'd been some time since Oleander had set foot in Sith space. A lifetime ago, maybe two. Back then, you could get a small fortune off a Sith target. Decent meal, too, if one didn't mind the risks that came with getting up close and personal with targets known to fight back. But that was before the slumber, back when Oleander was less a being and more a name attached to death given form. And while the Anzat still had no cause to shy away from such work, he did maintain a new employment that'd keep him from actively seeking it out.

If there had been some memo to wear all white to such an event, he did not receive it. His being cast a shadow over the small troupe of confederates, or rather would've if he had the height to do so. While Gerwald's leave to do as he pleased was met with a short nod, he didn't stray too far from the familiar face. Normally he would've departed, watching for security breaches unseen while others put on the facade of flanking guards. Here, however, the male kept to familiarity, with hands in coat pockets, posture not quite fitting for one looking for an imposing silhouette. He would've taken armor over formal wear any day. He'd tried to get away with it, too, if not for Gerwald's insistence. Something about if he had to suffer, so did Oleander.

Pulled from internal his lamenting of security over fashion, Oleander hadn't expected to be perceived much less have attention pulled to him. Perhaps it was fortunate for him that his body gave off no heat, otherwise he'd almost certainly feel his ears turn warm as he was introduced to the other members of the Confederacy. "It's a pleasure," he offered, coupled with a slight bow.

 

[Ishani Dinn]

"What do you have there?"

Ishani hesitated, her hand resting on the gift box’s unopened lid. She looked up to see who was speaking to her, and her eyes widened. The individual approaching her now was some sort of plant creature. Their body had been made to look like a dainty human woman, but it was obvious they were not. The odd coloring and texture of the skin, hair, and clothes made that obvious. The female’s eyes were green, like Ishani’s own, only Ishani’s eyes didn’t glow as if they were radioactive.

"Is that a gift of some kind? Who gave it to you?"

The creature’s voice was equally eerie and inhuman, sounding almost childlike and cloyingly sweet, but also persuasive, bordering on seductive. Swallowing, Ishani mumbled a response. “It’s, um, from the host of the party. The same people giving out masks gave out these boxes… so uh, who are you and what brings you here?”

Even as she asked the question her gaze began to wander the crowds, trying not to look at the plant lady. Not that she was being rude, but she was shy and not very social by nature, especially when dealing with people and situations she found intimidating.

Hey, was that Laertia Io over there? Not too long ago Ishani had joked about abducting and conducting experiments on the Black Knight to figure out how her infamous teleportation gift worked, and use it to her advantage. Now here she was in the flesh, but Ishani was all alone and out of her element. No kidnapping, then. Still, she was an unusual sight among all the royalty, viceroyalty, politicians and politicians’ aides milling about the palace. Almost as unusual as Ishani herself.

She still hadn’t opened the box yet. Taking a deep breath, she lifted the lid.

Arctus Silmar Lady Marrow​

 

[Arctus Silmar]

The Shaper

The Iron Crown|| Whilstone of Prowess|| Whilstone of Acuity || Whilstone of Power||
Empyrean Gland
Voice Sample

As the party began to enter full-swing the various party guests began to don their masks, partake in their own pleasantries, and some unable to wait even opened their gift-boxes. A cacophony of gasps, excited whispers and other joyous noises echoing around the room as a dazzling variety of jewels, accessories and even fine pieces of clothing were unveiled. For Ishani Dinn however her hand would hardly touch the lid of the box before the powerful enchantment on the box would connect to her. A cold tremor traveling all around the girl before a small, odd, cracking noise would echo from within the box. Sounding almost akin to grass cracking and shattering in very unnatural, unusual ways. Only for the lid to fall aside and reveal a most unusual sight. Within the box, the size of a small kitten, was a tiny dragon made of crystal consisting of a hue akin to rose quartz. A small, cooing purr left the tiny creatures as it's small wings fanned out around it, it's tail wagging, as it began to attempt to link to Ishani. It's new owner, if she wished it.

As Alina Tremiru approached The Shaper gave a casual, though pleased, glance at the sangnir. Inclining his head ever so slightly to her before he chuckled a low, rumbling noise. "Indeed, Lady Tremiru. It is, as always, lovely to see you. Do enjoy yourself. In fact..... " The Shaper trailed off before turning to address his Pandora. Gently taking her hand and pulling her forward. Looking from his prized creation to the sangnir. "Dear Pandora perhaps you would enjoy the Lady Tremiru's company and she yours? You should, of course, be able to enjoy the night for yourself. Socialize, make nice, and enjoy yourself." The Shaper would nod to Aline before turning his attention to the obvious twinge of jealousy and alarm that Lady Marrow had exhibited. A wry, knowing grin graced his porcelain features before his will extended to the Marrow and asked her in a calm, ALMOST teasing voice 'Has something alarmed you, dear Marrow?'

The Shaper's eyes travelled down the set of stairs leading up the banister he observed the proceedings from, down each satin covering, down each exquisitely polished inch of the railing, before settling coolly on the eyes of one Srina Talon as his smile faded. Resting a hand with deliberate, delicate motions did The Shaper descend the stairs toward Srina. Raven locks perhaps a match for her own contrasting, snow-white hair in length and unnatural sheen of vibrancy to it. The glowing of the three Whilstones on his brow dimming to a thrumming, almost pulsing twinkle as each step was taken with deliberate surety and purpose. Cool, steel silver eyes never flinching from the Exarch's as each step drew him closer, hair waving with each step, one by one, down and down, before he stood before her. Gazing down now at the smaller, powerful woman with an impassive expression. There was, perhaps, an odd and almost detached quality to the way he gazed at her. As if she were one of his creations, or at the very least, a work of art he were ascertaining the value of.

A deep, contemplative hum left The Shaper as his head tilted, hair falling over like a descending waterfall of blackness over a shoulder, before his eyes closed and he nodded his head. Just the smallest fraction for the Exarch, but a show of respect, and a slow, even smile would alight his unnatural features. Smoldering, amber flames dancing at the inner edges of his irises as he commented simply. His voice no longer carrying the unnatural echo he often graced it with, now it was merely a low, measured noise much like a growl without aggression. "It's an honor to meet you Exarch Talon.." His smile once again fell, his eyes blinking slowly now, as he drew himself back to his full height and gazed down at Srina with an expression bordering between begrudging satisfaction and intrigue. "I must say, the strength in your eyes and the force of your person is something of singular uniqueness and worthy of admiration."

Finally pulling his gaze from the Exarch for a moment, The Shaper noted the presence of four individuals in particular. The one aside from the Exarch herself he could place the easiest was one Gerwald Lechner whom he had heard much of. A rival to Prazutis, possessing of hatred for him even, who had also been on Dantooine when they had successfully quashed the advance of their foes. "Gerwald Lechner." The Shaper spoke his name as if weighing how it fell from his tongue. "The Winter Wolf and Lord Commander of the Confederacy. Your presence is an honor." A touch of wry humor tugged The Shaper's lips, but only just. "I fear we may have under-prepared our kitchens is what I would say, if it was food your appetite was aimed toward. As it is, however, I think you'll find the proceedings to your liking."

The other Confederates were all doing their best to mingle. But were all to quick to group together for safety and The Shaper's gaze fell upon Kyyrk , Laertia Io and Oleander Webb each in turn as they did their duty in watching the Exarch. To Voph the Shaper's gaze lingered a long, pensive moment. His passive perception of the man enough to reveal to The Shaper's ancient experience that there was more to him than met the eye and, perhaps, his own awareness. Beneath the astute readiness and fierce loyalty there was... more. But The Shaper did not disrespect his guests by doing anything more than observing the emotions they chose to present. Knowing or otherwise.

When his gaze fell upon one Laertia Io he paused, briefly, before his own presence in the Force swelled, expanded and The Shaper gave her a controlled, satisfied smile. The rippling, burning amber at the edge of his eyes flaring for a brief second before he stated calmly. "You, Miss Io, have been causing quite a bit of consternation for the Jedi, as I am aware. Make no mistake, you are an appreciated guest here, and with the path you have walked to bring you here you will be an honored guest in my presence. Always." The Shaper's presence in the Force confirmed this. There was no deception, no slight, and the roil of power building underneath the surface was meant to convey a promise. A sense of security to her should she have nowhere else to go. He could offer many things but now what he promised Laertia Io plainly, was safety should she need it.

Finally The Shaper turned his gaze to one Oleander Webb. A name he was only familiar with in the vaguest sense. What The Shaper DID pick up on, however, was the reaction the body he was in possession of took to Oleander. Though he had removed the Anzat's dependency on their 'food' he could still feel the natural mental capabilities exuded by the 'other Anzat'. "And you...." The Shaper could see the intelligence in the Anzat's eyes, the mind behind those eyes constantly calculating, planning, working to move in shadows unseen and hone his advantages even here. Even now. For a brief moment, The Shaper stared at the Anzat, before his posture softened and he smirked lightly. "..... do remember this is an event of festivities. You seem terribly... on edge."

Finally taking a brief moment to break his attention from his esteemed guests The Shaper gazed back at his loyal bodyguard, regarding Damian with respect and confidence, before telepathically communicating with the man. 'That, perhaps literally, is true twice over for you. I shall be unharmed, with such company about me. If you would I believe Valen Arenais and his master Zeptepi Zambrano could do with the same instruction. Let them wield their desires this night, so long as they do not sully the occasion. You've your Emperor's leave to do the same.' The Shaper then, at last, returned his attention to where it belonged. On the shorter, deadly, snow-haired woman he had expressly invited here. He stepped close to her, turned to face the same direction, and offered her an arm. "Apologies. You keep rather interesting company, Lady Exarch." At this moment, at The Shaper's unspoken request, would the scenery of the ballroom begin to change. The lighting lowering as darkness swirling about the room. Deep, crimson reds highlighted the scenery all about.

Moving, twisting shadows writhed and squirmed under the guidance of an unseen will, altering the shade cast by each in attendance to phantoms swirling in a dancing embrace where their physical counterparts did not move at all. Stepping out unto the dance floor, gliding along the floor, did The Shaper move before Srina. Extending a hand calmly to her as the music began to rise in fervor.

Song


He did not ask the angelic Exarch to dance, he did not feel it necessary and his intentions were obvious. She merely had to accept the offer.

 

[Darth Metus]

Wearing: Executive Formal Wear​

SHAPER'S PALACE

Corbos.

Ah, the world brought back memories. A lifetime ago, the Galaxy had been in a state not dissimilar from the present. And a young Mandalorian followed in the shadow of his Master - doe-eyed and awestruck by the principles of Alchemy. In those days, the warrior's sole concerns were the magnification of his own might. To push the Dark Side to its very limits had been his mantra. Now? The fate of untold trillions rested firmly upon his shoulders. It was almost humorous how drastic the changes of his life were.

For, when last he walked on Corbos, it was as a man seeking to build His world. Now, he was a man seeking only to preserve It.

The occasion was a far cry from his last voyage as well. Decades ago, the trip had been in the name of hunting leviathans. They were terrifying monstrosities with an appetite for actual souls. It was a hoot wrangling the bastards. Tonight was a far more mundane occasion. There would be no chains, Force Blasts, and profane language. No near-death experiences or fresh boots made from an uppity creature. Tonight, there would be dancing, feasting, and rubbing elbows with another nation. For the southern systems were honored guests.

Before the Vicelord had gone his favored apprentice: Srina Talon . She was the epitome of a successful tutelage. Mighty in her own right. Mighty as a result of his instruction. She was excellent in her duty as Exarch - so much so that the people had taken to calling her the Dread Queen. In truth, Darth Metus had intended to leave the affair in her capable hands. Yet, something had told him to make a personal appearance. Be it the will of the Force or his own instinct? He'd never know. The end result, however, was the arrival of another carriage shortly after the Echani's.

They'd find that the Vicelord was prepared for the standard procedures of entering such events. He carried no visible armaments. His attire was simply a crisp suit and a number of rings upon his fingers. No lightsabers. No artifacts. No kitchen sink. His advance was punctuated with small pleasantries - a wave here, a wink there - until he graced the main hall. His features would be obscured by a simple, black mask to match the masquerade theme. Yet his complexion would be a dead giveaway. There weren't many of sable skin in the upper echelons of the Confederacy these days.

Isley practically glided across the floor until he reached the side of the alabaster woman - and she'd feel his advance long before he took the first step. Betwixt them ran a river. A perpetual flow of understanding that could not be mimicked or forged. The bond between them allowed them to think, move, and act as one. "Srini," he began, utilizing her nickname amidst a toothy grin. "you look lovely this evening." As they so often did, he leaned close to accept a peck on his cheek in greeting.

Ah, but where were his manners? His advance had come whilst the host of the evening was introducing himself. The Vicelord offered a polite nod. "And you must be the man of the hour. Thank you for graciously welcoming us into your home."

The Sith extended his dominant hand towards the Shaper.

"Would you honor me with a dance?"

Arctus Silmar | Srina Talon | Kyyrk | Gerwald Lechner + Open​

 

[Lady Marrow]

​

Tag: Arctus Silmar / Pandora / Ishani Dinn
Equipment: Marrow Blade
Hair: long locks // Dress: dress // Mask: masque

"I see, I'll have to get myself one then, I'm Marrow, Lady Marrow. The Shaper is MY master. " Although her tone would be a little possessive, she understood that the Shaper had other students, but of them all she stood at the top of the pedestal. He had called her beautiful, unique, and interesting, he asked her to be his apprentice... but almost as though her internal monologue could be heard aloud. She would respond in turn to her masters voice as it sounded within her mind. Her mental voice would have altered from the last time he would have heart it, the garden having grown astronomically, the smaller quieter voice with one that was more matriarchal, the voice of the garden itself, rather than just the marrow born it had sprouted, their minds connected through the force. For they were one.

~Who was that person you were with master? Another of your acquaintances? I'd be careful about the optics of laying claim to them in public like that. Some may get the wrong idea...~ #GertusForever.

Lady Marrow would keep calm never-mind the curiosity which burned into her very being at the thought of what could possibly be in a box, one of the other nearby guests would have theirs laying upon the edge of a table in which they were talking to another nearby. It would be one of the too-long tails which would slink through the crowd, weaving through them with the express intent of lifting the box from the side of the table without anyone noticing the sly transgression. Quick as a whip the tail would return with her own box in hand. Revealing the box and cradling it between her delicate digits observing it from every angle and even giving it a rattle.

Before finally taking the top off in tandem with the person beside her, revealing the green crystal creature that was within the box, tilting her head to a side for a moment as it would let out a small high pitched cry, as it would look up at its now, mother as it would imprint upon the Lady. It would take a couple of second as she would stare at the creature, internal strife momentarily warring as her proper half was destroyed by the overwhelming curiosity as well sheer enjoyment at how adorable the creature was, causing her to audibly squeak at the creature in lieu of using words.

Lady Marrow would allow it to climb up her arm as it would clamber up her shoulder and up the lattice that was her hair to nest atop her head. Beaming with pure childlike joy as she would look to see if the other box that Ishani had was the same. Leaning closely, ignoring trivial concerns like personal space to observe her reaction to the adorable creature that was inside.

"What was the one you got!? What colour is it!? Do they fly!? They have little wings! But.., they're made out of rock? No... Crystal!"
​

 

[Lunara Azure]

Location: Corbos; The Shaper's Palace
Wearing: Dress | Mask
Tagging: Open | Srina Talon | Darth Metus | Gerwald Lechner | Arctus Silmar

​

There was a buzz to the party now, the guests gathering, the music playing and, most importantly, the drinks flowing liberally. What kind of party would it be without the proper social lubricant to grease the wheels of that conversation, that interaction. It was why people came to these things, interacting with one another, building the social connection that would drive galactic politics on a grand scale, it was the kind of thing that any scholar of politics, anyone who had grown up watching it play out would be enthralled by. Lunara was no different that countless scions of noble houses the galaxy across who lived and died by politics.

Or died at least.

As Gerwald had suggested, the woman had procured herself a drink, two to be fair, drifting through the crowd like some sort of blue-skinned spectre. However the crowd seemed to move, if it moved towards her she was swaying in the opposite direction. If someone bulled straight at her the woman was already well placed to the side. It was the kind of movement that was only possible with years of experience, the ability to read the crowd and predict its movements. She didn’t even need to use the force, this was the product of hours and hours of experience, of being jostled and knocked around. It was that fluid motion that allowed her to close with Gerwald, nodding over at Exarch Talon, in time to hear their host’s reply. It was what came after that almost made her drop the glasses on the floor.

Almost.

She couldn’t help herself, the image of the Vicelord himself asking the Shaper for a dance, to trip the light fantastic. The blonde glanced down at the two glasses in her hand for a moment, lips pursing in thought, in consideration before handing one of the glasses to the Lord Commander.

“I was seriously considering drinking both of these, I want you to know that.”

Crystal blue eyes ran across the man’s collar before she reached up to brush away some lint.

“You clean up well you know. You should try it more often.”

Small talk could only last so long before her eyes were drawn back to the main attraction, to the two men at the foot of the stairs.

“So, who do you think is going to lead and who is going follow?”

 

[Srina Talon]

Corbos - The Shaper's Palace
Tag: Arctus Silmar | Darth Metus | Kyyrk | Oleander Webb | Gerwald Lechner | Amelia von Sorenn | Hester Shedo | Lunara Azure | Laertia Io | Quinn Varanin | Felix Aquila + [OPEN]
Dressed: X | X | X
_________________________________________________________​

The duties between an Exarch and a Minister suffered from a fair amount of crossover on any given day within the Confederacy. They worked in tandem to ensure that all things were handled proficiently, swiftly, and with the necessities of the citizens they had vowed to serve in mind. Srina took a vested interest in those that were appointed in the lofty positions that sat just beneath that of the right and left hand of the Vicelord. Should something happen to them?

The Ministers were set to inherit the Office of the Vicelord and the entirety of the Presidium.

When Hester Shedo arrived in colors that boasted the pride, courage, and beauty of Scarif the silvery woman made sure to incline her head politely. She had specifically requested that the Minister of Influence attend this event. Diplomacy had never been her strong suit. For some reason, the Vicelord always asked it of her. Seemed to think her fit for the role—But Srina had no illusions about who could charm a crowd more efficiently. “Your presence is appreciated, Ms. Shedo.”

“I encourage you to mingle when you’re ready. Then, the strangers will not seem so strange.”

That was partially true. Wishful thinking, perhaps.

Whilst the presence of several of her associates and colleagues no doubt made the ballroom seem less daunting, in truth, the pale woman was not keen on remaining a Confederate cluster. They would gain nothing from accepting the status quo. “Amelia…”, Srina greeted, lightly, though she followed her gaze. So much suspicion. It was to be expected, however, they need to not let it distract from their purpose.

“It is good to see you away from Ukio.”

The spacepiress would know what the nigh apathetic Exarch was referring to. When Kyyrk fell back to his place at her side the young woman felt some of the pressure ease. If he had returned from his inspection without any immediate news of warning or danger it meant good tidings. They matched through more than simple attire, though, none would know that. “Understood. If the Lord Commander does not request it himself—Please inform him that I would like our Knights to keep in regular contact.”

“No ghosts, tonight.”

Srina wanted each and every Confederate held accountable, plus, she wanted them safe. Some of them might have accepted the invitation out of a misguided sense of entertainment but the lithe Echani acted very little with the concept of “fun” at heart. When a delicate cup of hot tea was pressed into her hands her head inclined in gratitude. She did not drink alcoholic beverages and Kyyrk had been dutiful enough to see she had at least one, small comfort, of home. She reached up and discretely pulled a thin silver needle from her sleeve. Just as carefully, she tested the liquid.

It came back clear.

It was only then that she dared bring the fragile glass to her lips to take a sip that might have scalded anyone else. Briefly, her eyes closed. “Thank you, Iskellion.”

The small noble ( Quinn Varanin ) that spoke to Felix Aquila caught her attention out of the corner of her eye once more. Sometimes, when she moved, and the shadows receded, she appeared different. Their eyes met for a brief moment, though, that was enough. She smiled. Srina knew what she thought she saw. Rather, who she thought she saw. But that was a mistake.

Wasn’t it?

“That young woman…I wish to know everything about her.”

Another request that she made of Kyyrk . Rather, Iskellion. She did not often make demands of him but she was still bound by her role to take action. She guided him as best she could. He deserved that. Even though his memories were fractured, jumbled, she still remembered the man he had been. The friend he had come to be twice over. As an apprentice, she could teach him. Protect him.

She owed him that.

Gerwald Lechner arrived not far behind Kyyrk . She would leave the pair of them to discuss her directives privately, though, she well understood why so many of her people crowded around. Like a flower unfolding, they sought to protect the core while keeping themselves secure at the same time. The common threads that bound them were more than mere exercises in duty. The Exarch had been to brutal, bloody war, with many of them. They knew the depth of her convictions.

She knew their strengths, weaknesses, and loyalty. Gerwald had an outwardly teasing, approachable personality, but being within the Sith Empire could not have been easy for him. The former Dark Lord of the Sith had killed one of their own, plus, skinned the Lord Commander alive to extend the torment. The twisted obsession with drawing out every ounce of that pain was not something she had been able to abide. She had pressed into this space. She, had brought Gerwald home in pieces and stitched him back together. “Knight Webb…It is good to formally meet you.”, Srina greeted Oleander, deadpan, while her eyes lingered on his face for a moment. She recognized this one. Her wolf brought him to many events but they’d never had the chance to actually greet one another.

The telepathic missive from Lord Commander caused her to pause.

<<I am always, cautious…But point taken.>>

Laertia Io arrived. With or without a mask, these days, Srina would have known her. She seemed to inevitably become involved in every plot that might need a firm, resolute hand. She had gone out of her way to save the Silver Jedi Concord when they were incapable of making decisions of difficult choices. So many times, she had been the sword and shield in recent years. Srina nodded to the dark-haired woman and might have commented were in not for the fact that a deeply familiar presence washed over her mind like sweet summer rain. It was warm, dark as pitch, but not at all frightening.

Her hand raised to reach for her Master without looking. He knew her better than she even knew herself. The Force Bond that lay between them was alight with things unspoken. Whispers, words, and all things that conveyed a singular greeting. Hello. At the utterance of her shortened, private moniker, she could see his mischievous grin in her mind’s eye without ever seeing his face. Everything he was rang of sanctuary, of home, and she was somewhat disturbed that his force signature hadn’t shone amongst all of the unknown sources like a beacon in the night. It should have eclipsed them all. Was he hiding it? Srina turned with flawless grace to greet him respectfully. As careful lips brushed feathery-light against his cheek he would hear her mercurial words. ”I didn’t realize that your mind had changed, Master.”

“You are very…Symmetrical.”

Of course, she would cede to his wishes. As Kyyrk had become her student, she, was still his.

Behind the Vicelord she could see Lunara Azure on the approach. Drink in hand, she looked thoroughly amused with the situation. Beyond that…There was another presence, large, and indomitable rolling closer with every heartbeat. The gait of Arctus Silmar was smooth as silk and the very air seemed to silhouette itself around him when he moved. As if, it was politely getting out of his way. Something about him reminded her of Maliphant. A look, a glance. The way he held himself. The masculine features that were decidedly beautiful no matter how much maleness tried to peek through.

He wore far more artifacts than she did. More, than even the Vicelord. Srina could feel them just as clearly as she could feel him while he approached. The fact that the first words from the Sith Lord that followed were of her features caused a distinct sense of numbness. Silver eyes, that he had also complimented, could be cruel without intent. Piercing and perceptive in ways they had no right to be with someone she had never met—But she saw him, all of him, without apology. “Echani all appear the same, Lord Silmar. If you have seen one, you have seen all, and I am no different than the rest.”

Srina remained silent while he greeted the crowd and instead stepped back into Darth Metus . It was true. Though her heart had its binding, she was one with the Vicelord of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. He was her Master, leader, and family in every way but blood. He had earned her loyalty over the years. Earned, her faith. It was only when the Shaper got to Kyyrk that she seemed to breathe and come to life once more. Directly, she would stand in his way.

It was not the first time she had accidentally or otherwise utilized impertinence in the face of an Emperor. It likely wouldn’t be the last.

When he commented on the company she kept—Her eyes flickered toward some of the others in the ballroom. For instance, the female with flowers in her hair ( Pandora ) that had all but clung to his side. She hadn’t missed them standing at the top of the staircase, purveyors, of the fruits of their labor. Watching the ants scurry down below from a lofty perch. “I could say the same about you.”, Srina intoned distantly, though the dulcet tone of her voice never raised in decibels, regardless of the music that had begun to swell. The Sith Lord would hear her just as easily, as if, she had spoken directly into his ear.

The arm Arctus Silmar offered caused her gaze to flicker, briefly, before metallic eyes drew slowly back toward an angular face with pronounced cheekbones. The lighting shifted and the newly crowned Emperor moved close enough that he could offer his hand. Everything moved in time with him. The music, the lights, and even the other attendees.

Had he really planned this moment down to inscrutably minute detail?

As was the duty of an Exarch, first and foremost, to represent their nation she passed the partially finished cup of tea back to Voph. She would have taken the offered hand, regardless, the hackles she could feel rising at her back—But just as slender fingers curled around his it seemed that Darth Metus had other plans. Momentarily, she withdrew.

She frowned.

“…Shall I wait, then?”

Her frown deepened and silver eyes flickered between the leaders of the Sith Empire and the Confederacy. Darth Metus did not enjoy the company of men, save, for a sparring session. Had something about Arctus Silmar changed his mind? Interesting. Her arms raised and crossed over her chest while her fingers tapped on her arm. “…Or we could handle it in a civilized fashion, as I would on Eshan.”

“You can fight until one of you calls for mercy.”

 

[Darth Empyrean]

The crowd parted like the sea at Maliphant's presence. Hair braided immaculately, complicated and artisinal in its design it drew attention swaying behind him. His armor was black, dressed up in the golden gilding implying worth; and even with its decadence, it was impossible to truly state just how much money trailed behind the Sith Lord. Where beauty failed him - where rarely it did - the IGBC and its control over the galaxy made him far weighted in any diplomatic situation; were it not for the fact Maliphant held the company under a false alias.

So now, while they could look upon him for his beauty and excessive grandeur they would only know him as the Sith who had once controlled the Dark Staff, broke it with his will alone and held some of the greatest secrets the Sith Order ever had. A legendary alchemist, a renowned teacher and duelist - Maliphant carried with him a reputation none could deny. Sith who understand the pressures of the galaxy would recognize him as a leading figure in the Frumentarii, knew his intelligence networks stretched across the borders to planets yet unknown; and solidified his presence as one of the premier galactic figures despite it all.

Tonight, however, it would not be what he was known for. On the contrary, he was known tonight for something far different - for being the signifigant other of Srina Talon . The Dread Queen's reputation in many circles far surpassed his own; but he wasn't bothered by such. Playing second fiddle often was a relief when around her - even if he was rather protective of her, though many in her life were. Crossing the floor, he walked towards her even without sight - feeling her presence through the rings they shared.

Finding her, he gently came up behind her with a small kiss upon her neck - smiling as a hand reached around her waist and establishing himself next to her. Chiseled of marble, they looked vaguely similar in their cut and immaculate features; but what defined Maliphant from Talon was not the armor or his stature - but the blackened eyes of a corrupted Sith. Black Abyssal eyes with a ruby in the center watching the others dance around her, clapping their hands and playing circus monkey for her attention.

"Quite the entertainment you have here.", he said to no-one in particular.

"I hope I'm not too late - I had business to take care of. I assume everyone has kept you good company, Srina?", he said with a cock of his brow, glancing from her to the various others around her.

 

[Kyyrk]

Wearing this for the duration of the thread

E S C O R T
​

As the small entourage spoke amongst themselves, more and more confederates found their way towards the wintered woman. Voph's helmet turned to each of them, though only one spoke to him directly. The Lord Commander asked, as Voph handed Srina her drink, if he'd found any mead. Voph's face fell into a frown behind his helmet. He knew he could not recall the Lord Commander in any reasonable sense, but he also thought that the members of the Confederacy were...better than that. Gerwald did not strike Voph as the kind to be so...crass. But his attention was grabbed as Srina offered him a directive. There was another guest present she very much wished to learn about.

But, Gerwald was still his superior all the same as Srina was. As she drew away from the pair, Voph moved closer so as to speak in hushed tones. "Perimeter is secured, no immediate threats detected." Voph handed Gerwald a small datapad discreetly. "If the Sith intend to turn on us, these are the individuals sighted most likely to engage. If attacked by an external force, most likely breach points are present at the wall behind us, the window opposite the staircase, or tunneling from below in the north west quadrant of the chamber. Your knights would serve best monitoring these areas." His analysis was delivered quickly, quietly, and professionally. He may not remember his past, but the training ingrained within him was not deterred so easily.

Voph turned his head to glance back into the crowd momentarily as another knight, a senior knight of sorts, joined them. Gerwald wasted no time introducing him to the group, and yet did not introduce him to Voph. His attention turned back to Gerwald. Had he done something to the man? Had the man done something to him? Voph was detecting a subtle hint of hostility from the lupine, and what bothered him most was that he didn't know why. Voph frowned, There was something...familiar about the man, but it was not him specifically. Like an echo of....someone else. Voph's head tilted for a moment before realizing that, even though he couldn't remember, this familiarity had helped him. It...no, she...was responsible for his return. And he had been given a message.

Voph lingered for a moment, sensing there was more to come, and his patience was well rewarded. The new Sith Emperor drew near to their party, and spoke with Srina. A look was shared between the two, though Voph's intentions and emotions were well shielded behind his helmet. This....shaper suspected something. His suspicion was written well within his face, his thoughts. Voph held up a hand expectantly as the man invited Srina to dance. As expected, the small cup of tea he had given her was placed within it. As he turned to leave, he paused next to Gerwald Lechner and intoned quietly, "She was a great help to me. She misses you."

And with that, Voph was moving through the crowd again. The empty cup he bore was placed upon a server's tray, and a new one acquired a few steps later. It was risky, but Voph suspected that it was the best course of action. The best way to find information was to make yourself the target's friend. Normally he would have forgone the drink all together, given his duty to his master. And yet, she had given him an order. This was the best way to execute that order. Get them to lower their guard. His helmet lifted ever so slightly, and a sip of the drink passed his lips. Not poisoned. His helmet fell back into place as he weave through the crowd, setting up his approach. He stopped eventually, and took a breath. Casual. Calm. Bored. He strolled slowly towards the conversing pair of Quinn Varanin and Felix Aquila . As he joined them from behind, he took a position at Quinn's side, opposite of Felix. "Some party. I wasn't aware the Sith enjoyed such passtimes."

Srina Talon

​

 

[Ishani Dinn]

Lady Marrow, the Shaper, the Black Knight, the Dread Queen, Sandman—what was with the Sith using made-up names, as if they were comic book superheroes? Er, villains…?

Ishani was soon very distracted, forgetting about everyone and everything else around her as she gasped at the contents of the gift box. A rose quartz baby dragon lay inside, crystal wings sparkling, mewling noises reverberating in its throat. She picked it up gently with one hand, setting it in her lap, heedless of the effect its jagged crystal wings and spine and feet would have on the fabric of her dress.

A slip of paper lay inside the bottom of the box. She picked it up and read aloud: “‘A Dantari Shard Drake… bonds to its owner… consumes dirt, earth, rocks, and minerals… silver and gold is like catnip to them…’” She grinned down at the creature, lifting up her mask so that it could see her face. “Oh, what am I going to name you… you’re pink, what else is pink? Roses? Flamingoes? I can’t just call you Pinkie…”

She was cuddling the thing in a most undignified manner when Lady Marrow came at her with questions. The plant lady had her own Drake, a green one, and was as happy with it as Ishani was.

“Mine’s pink,” Ishani answered. Glancing at the paper again, she added, “They can’t really fly, but they can glide… Yes, they’re made out of crystal.” Her gaze returned inevitably to the little squeaking Drake in her lap. “I think I will name you Rose. That’s a fine name.”

Arctus Silmar Lady Marrow​

 

[Pandora]

Pandora

Golden eyes looked over each and every person that walked into the ballroom, searching for anyone of any interest. There were very few who kept her gaze on them for more than a moment, but among those that did there was only one who stared back. Lady Marrow stared back at the Sithspawn, and Pandora gave the Marrow a wicked grin, before looking back over the crowd.

Pandora watched with mild interest as Srina Talon and what appeared to be her entourage began approaching, though only the Echani herself got more than a glance. The men surrounding her were quite boring to look at. Of course, there were no men in this ballroom that could possibly ever stand up to Arctus Silmar in Pandora's mind! He was her creator, after all.

Remaining by her Master's side, Pandora's golden eyes would lock onto the yellow irises of Alina Tremiru as the other woman approached the Shaper. The taller woman had donned a suit, rather than any elaborate gown, for the occasion, and that alone made her far more interesting to Pandora than even the visiting Exarch.

Standing quietly with a coy smile, Pandora listened as the suit-clad woman and her Master exchanged pleasantries. Lady Tremiru seemed to be at least somewhat familiar with Pandora's Master, which intrigued the Sithspawn. Feeling her Master's hand gently grab hold of hers, Pandora followed the gentle pull forward, and pressed the Shaper's hand against her cheek with a small, playful, pout.

"Only if you promise me a dance later in the evening, Master~."

Squeezing her Master's hand before letting it slip away from her gasp, she watched as he walked toward the visiting Exarch and her little group of fanboys. Her eyes lingered on the group for but a moment, before Pandora turned her gaze back to the Lady Tremiru she had been told to speak with.

"Lady Tremiru, was it? Tell me, how did you come to know my Master? I've not met nor heard of most of his... acquaintances."

 

[Kuben Woods]

Damian had been watching the rest of the procession enter the building and surrounding halls. From his point of view, he could watch everything and still remain relatively out of sight. That his body was so still that some could have mistaken him for an armor set piece, a droid, or some other display of grandeur. At least for those that knew not of his Master's truer expressions of such majesty. He would simply mentally nod as his Master addressed him, silently responding to himself since he didn't know how to do the mind speak, and certainly not privately as Shaper could.

"Yes master,"

You really need to loosen up you know that?

And?

You're so boring, you hardly drink, you don't do anything fun. At least outside of fighting, but even that's boring when there's nothing to break it up.

And?

The voice in his head would prattle on as Damian continued scanning the room until he spotted Kyyrk attempting to be a bit discreet with some kind of message. And while he couldn't see what had changed hands, Damian wasn't about to let such an act go unnoticed. So beyond the many passers by, through the crowd of various patrons and party goers, he stared quite intently into the back of the man's skull. And if his eyes were lasers he'd have bored through it by now. They dared try to pass secrets, or even weapons in his master's presence? Then again, the Lord Commander was probably a very busy man what with all of the hounds at the Confederacy's door. Could have easily been a communique, but either way he wasn't about to let them think they'd gotten away with something like that scot free. Damian would continue staring at this particular guest until Srina's comment caught the voice's attention.

Ohhhhhh hohohohohoho I liiiiiiiiiiiiike her. Can we keep her? Please oh please tell me we can keep her!

He would turn to look at the Echani, now backed by the so called Vicelord of the Confederacy. Strange, Damian thought to himself. From all of the briefs and information he'd been given on the man, he thought he'd be at least ten to fifteen centimeters taller. But Damian knew better than to think the head of the Confederacy couldn't handle himself. So he decided to appease the demon in his head.

If I start thinking about what I'd like to do will you shut up?

Oh? What's that?

For starters, I'd like to tear out that one's spine....

Finally Damian would find some measure of peace as he let his mind wander, silently going through the various patrons who were visiting today, Sith and Confederate alike, and plotting how to kill them. It was an old game that his former Shock Trooper Commander had taught him after he'd graduated and got to a unit.

Be polite.

Be professional.

And have a plan to kill everyone you meet.

He would casually lift a lighter drink from one of the passing servants' trays. He would at least look the part of someone here if his master insisted. And all the while he casually thought about who various people were and how he'd kill them. Some with blaster fire, a few with explosives, some with a little bit of poison here and there. A few he got a little creative with, such as gouging out one's eyeballs to tear another's jaw off and feed him said eyeballs. The demon in his head was giddy with excitement at the thought, Damian indulging one of his guilty pleasures. And if it shut the voice in his head up while allowing him peace and quiet to study these new possible frenemies, why not? He certainly had to come up with a plan to kill them too. Every.

Last.


One.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

Wearing: X | X
Tag: Srina Talon | Oleander Webb | Hester Shedo | Felix Aquila | Lunara Azure | Amelia von Sorenn | Arctus Silmar | Darth Metus | Pandora | Darth Empyrean | Laertia Io

Kyyrk would be the first to greet the Lord Commander with a report of what he found. It was strange to see the man Gerwald knew very well to be acting as though he were nothing more than a subordinate, and apprentice. The former Lord Commander had once been considered a mentor of sorts, but as all his mentors and masters had, this one had abandoned him as well. Eyes glanced down at the datapad as it was handed to the head of the Knights Obsidian, and a small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.​

​

“You have not lost your touch, Iskellion,” the name did not feel natural flowing from his lips. The Force would press the rest of his words into the man’s mind. < “However, for the rest of the night I want your reports mentally. I do not trust the Sith, and I do not trust this… pretty boy, which pretends to sit as their leader. Deploy the Guard as you see fit... I trust your judgement.” >​

​

Everyone who knew Gerwald understood his hatred for the Sith Empire, and those who had followed Darth Prazutis. Whether this new leader had or had not, was irrelevant to the lupine. He had seen what Sith were willing to do to accomplish their agenda. Dantooine had shown him that desperation revealed the Empire’s true colors. Whatever facade this man would portray was not to be trusted. This was a masquerade after all, a fitting setting for Gerwald’s feelings on the subject. No one was who they seemed, mask or not, everyone wore one.​

​

Srina Talon returned shortly to greet Oleander Webb after Gerwald’s introduction. He had not intended to leave Voph out of the mix. The wolf simply did not know how to introduce him. His feelings, the hurt which still settled in his heart, did not have any bearing on his inaction. A wolfish smirk was offered to the Exarch when she extended her greeting to Oleander. She had chastised him for allowing his student to “sleep” during the last session of the Viceroyalty, and Gerwald had taken that moment to clue the woman in on the potential Oleander displayed and why he often accompanied the lupine to many of the events where their paths crossed.​

​

He nodded when she returned his mental caution.​

​

< “Good.” >​

​

There was little to exchange between them. His mistress knew why he distrusted the Sith as much as he did, and he knew she was the reason he was alive to harbor that feeling. Without the Dread Queen, Gerwald would not have ascended to the role he held now. There had been little she had done to shape or mold him, rather it had been her presence which had ensured it was possible. The Echani had protected him, helped to heal him, when it was needed, and Gerwald would always remain indebted to her for it.​

​

Another familiar voice would fall on his ears, and Gerwald’s eyes would drop to the goblet its owner offered. The compliment was not coupled with the usual sarcasm and wit which the wolf was used to from the woman, but it drew the same smile nonetheless.​

​

“Thank you, however, you should know by now I am suffering with every moment that passes which I must be seen in this ridiculous outfit.”​

​

The wolf chuckled.​

​

“You, on the other hand, look as though you were made for tonight. It would be safe to say you are by far the prettiest woman in the room tonight.”​

​

One compliment had earned another as his hand raised to turn down the glass.​

​

“I appreciate the offer, but I am not merely attending. I am also on duty tonight.”​

​

Gerwald knew his friend would understand.​

​

It was at that moment Voph would whisper something to Gerwald before leaving the lupine for the crowd once more. He froze. The wolf knew exactly who Voph had referred to. Naedira Darcrath had helped the man return. She missed him? That had not been what the woman had expressed to him on Lorta. Reaching for the ring, Gerwald held it tight in his hand for a moment. He had not been able to refuse her. The wolf still carried her, keeping a promise that had been made long ago. HIs duty was to the Knights Obsidian, and she was still one of them. As long as she was bound to the ring, she was not lost.​

​

Gerwald looked to Lunara briefly, then back to Srina. Had they both just heard the same thing, or had that only been for Gerwald’s ears.​

​

There would be no time to find out as Arctus Silmar arrived finally. Nothing about the man seemed genuine save for his attempt to charm Srina Talon with what Gerwald could only equate as fruitless flattery. He did not know the woman well if he thought commenting on her beauty would sway her to a more pleasant disposition. It seemed the man was capable of both compliment and insult at the same moment.​

​

Gerwald’s appetites?​

​

The wolf nearly growled, and had it not been for the presence of the Dread Queen and the sudden arrival of her master, Darth Metus , he may have.​

​

“An honor? Your predecessor would not have thought so. To him I was nothing more than a way to get a fur coat for his mistress.”​

​

His words were not proper, but Gerwald did not care about false platitudes. After all, it must have been what this emperor was referring to with the rest of what he had spoken.​

​

Eyes fell to the “pet” which seemed to follow the man around. There was something curious about the relationship, but Gerwald did not ponder on it for long. Darth Empyrean had arrived shortly after the Vicelord stepped in to intercept the hand offered to Srina. It was then Lunara spoke once more.​

​

“Clearly, the Vicelord will lead. He has never been satisfied to follow anyone other than himself. Why would that change now?”​

​

 

[Talohn Atar]

The cathar wasn't the best at parties. Well, at least not this sort, no. He was the kind you'd find passed out at some random frat party. This was a much more refined. It required suits, good manners, a lack of vulgar droids. All the things in life he's not used to. Especially suits, he hated suits. Somehow even a bunch of beskar plating felt more freeing than those refined pieces of cloth. Yet, he'd heard a certain someone would be here, and she likely wouldn't be happy with him showing up in a full suit of beskar. Though he did keep one thing, something he never left home without. INside of his coat was his trusty I'zêorra stjolkk. Under the sleeve of his left arm, there was a shield generator on his wrist. He was always prepared, somehow. To not be would be a serious lapse in judgement. Despite his reservations about such parties, this is where the wealthy were, and you had to rub elbows with the wealthy to get the wealth making jobs,

The cathar had decided to go with plain and simple, such was his preference. Classic black dress shoes, with black dress pants, a white button up shirt, and a black suit jacket that had a matching black tie. Simple, classic, and it contrasted nicely with his greyish fur, and matched his various stripes of darker hues. Those there who knew Talohn would recognize him immediatly. Even with a simple black mask covering his eyes and nose, he had distinct fur markings, and on top of that, he was the only cathar in the room. His kind seemed rare in this area of the galaxy, no doubt most of his people were back home, hopefully not being mistreated by the new imperial order. He didn't really know how they treated aliens. Either way, he wanted to make enough wealth to get his parents out of there.

The gift box he was given on the way in made him feel all tingly inside. Like in the 'I'm not a trained force sensitive but I can feel the vibes' kind of way. He simply puts it in his pocket for later. It was rude to be distracted by such gifts when you could be socializing instead when it came to these parties. Ot so he'd heard. The moment he looked up from the gift box, Talohn was instantly lost. Who to talk to, who to socialize with? The cathar knew no one here save for Metus, and the boss man seemed to be having a good time with other folk. No point in pestering him. He simply picked up a glass of red wine from a passing server, and had himself a slow sip. Better than most alcohol he'd had. The cathar wagered the stuff was worth more than he was. Oh well, best to enjoy it. Orange colored eyes drifted about as he pondered his next move. Most people seemed to have met eachother, or heard of eachother. It was baffling. He was a minnow in a sea of giants, and considering this was a meeting with the sith empire, half of those giants were likely to be sharks.

For now, he chose to simply stand in the corner, observing. The cathar was hopelessly lost, and he chose to scan for a more open seeming social group instead of making a fool of himself by recklessly barging into someone's enjoyment of the party. Overall, the leader of his clan was here. This was the worst time he could choose to even dare to do something stupid. So, he chose to just enjoy his wine for now.

Zlova Rue Darth Metus

 

[Zlova Rue]

With a black smile, a crimson Twi'lek adorned in tattoos peeking out from about the fine fabric of her dress strode into view. The golden rings of her eyes were aglow as they swept over those in attendance. Slowly she strode into the mass one foot crossing in front of the other in high heels. Tactically unwise? Not for someone as agile as herself. A Red Twi'lek Sith took their grace, balance, and acrobatics with the utmost seriousness. It was their signature. One they gladly displayed under the lustful gazes of any that thought to look.

One of the attendees she passed looked at her and made a polite introduction. Zlova laughed quietly and reached up to stroke their jaw as she slowly continued by. Adorable, but it was far too soon for her to have chosen a companion for the evening. She'd just arrived, and didn't know them. No matter how handsome they were.

Sometimes at events like these she'd take to a stage and offer everyone a show. Because why not? She wasn't a Sith Lord with a grand army to command to worry about appearances, and she was an excellent dancer. But not today. Not with this crowd. One full of people she'd maintained her distance from since her purported death at the hands of her closest friend; after which Zlova had gone into exile. It'd taken a waif's plight to bring her out among the Confederates. A humble existence masquerading as a mere Knight handling dangers others wouldn't -- or rather such matters they were ill equipped to handle. The Confederacy weren't Jedi and they weren't Sith, which meant there were matters half their number simply couldn't handle appropriately. They needed all the help they could get. Operatives lacking a bleeding heart or a preoccupation wondering if what they'd done was 'right' or 'just.' Not a psychopath, just someone able and willing to do whatever it took.

Might someone recognize her? Perhaps. Could they desire to carry out the botched assassination attempt from Zlova's past? They could. She wasn't afraid of what they would do. You didn't become a Sith Lord being afraid of what others like yourself might or could do -- and you certainly didn't last long if you weren't able to handle a little... conflict from time to time.

As she indulged herself with a drink, her golden gaze swept over the crowd. Zlova paused when she caught sight of feline loitering off to the side. The dark smile grew at the sight. What strange places that man inserted himself. And without his armor too. Poor Cathar must feel so dreadfully cold not having the beskar thermal layer weighing him down. Well, she preferred to see his face - even with a mask - rather than a faceless Mandalorian anyway.

Slowly Zlova began to drift in the direction of the corner Talohn Atar had taken as his own. Didn't trust this bunch did he? Tactically sound placement? Zlova was certainly he'd taken all that into account. Perhaps she could help encourage him out into the mess. It was more fun when someone could literally stab you in the back.

"Enjoying the view?" Zlova took another sip of her drink as she looked over the rim at the well-dressed Cathar male. "I am."

 

[Lady Marrow]

​

Tag: Arctus Silmar / Pandora / Ishani Dinn
Equipment: Marrow Blade
Hair: long locks // Dress: dress // Mask: masque

A name!? Lady Marrow could not help but brim with excitement at the mere thought of naming the creature, giddy with mirth looking up trying to see the small creature that was squeaking triumphantly at its perch, the little conqueror having secured its high ground in which the world would bow before it. Marrows eyes would transfix with eagerness on the information about the drake, veritably devouring the information as she would learn to care for the thing. As her mind swam with the possibilities of all the names that one could have, the girl beside her had chosen the name rose for her one. Lady Marrow couldn't understand the name, roses could come in every colour in the spectrum, and more of their composition was far more green than anything else. Roses also had nothing to do with crystals to her thinking.

"A name is a fantastic idea!" She'd speak, formality falling from her voice as she would sound much more like the teenager that she was. "I never got to chose my name... when I was little people would just point at me and shout 'Lady Marrow!' before they chased me out of town, I assumed that was my name after i heard it enough. It wasn't until recently I discovered that they were really just shouting for help because I was a female of my species and they calling for backup in case i was trouble." Her tone chirpy, matter of fact, the past didn't bother her in a way that made her sad, she rather had a lot of fun playing hide and seek and tag with the villagers on Aleen. But that came to what the creature was to be called, she needed a name that was fantastic.

"I think I'm going to name it... Sedi- no thats not right ... Tetra... Tetra! That will be your name!" Marrow beamed at the chosen nom de plume, thinking it a cute abbreviation of the silicone oxygen tetrahedral structure which Quartz is composed of. The creature would scree out another triumphant roar, almost in approval as it would puff out its chest. In all likelihood simply out of pride and like of the attention that it was receiving. Standing up however, she couldn't help but glance in the direction of her master, it seemed that there was something going on over there, she didn't understand the world of politics, but she did understand the animal world, the posturing, peacocking game where an outsider would approach an alpha or otherwise coveted prized member of the group, others springing with an attempt to outdo the performance of the newcomer or dominate with their presence.

It was almost laughable.

One would cut in, the others would reaffirm their position, discover, distract, distrust. Questions of whether the newcomer was worthy to approach this coveted asset, this sacred cow. Leading lady marrow to but wonder who was this swan-like creature that they all so fawned over? Their mother? They fought over her and around her like pups vying for their mother's tit. Who were these people? She assumed some form of leadership structure to the organism of whoever these guests were... but her curiosity bid her to know more...

"Who are all of those people over there? The people Shaper is talking to... They look..." She wasn't sure on the adjective to describe the group of them, foolish came to mind, clambering over themselves as one would break from the crowd to go talk to another guest, replacing his drink on his way. She would simply allow the fact that there was a look to hang in the air, Ishani would be able to dictate her intentions, but with her initial furrow followed by a giddy self agrandizing smirk, it wouldn't be a stretch to make an assumption. Plucking her new treasure from the nest it had made in her hair as she would cuddle it close to her breast, scritching it on the forehead.
​

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Felix Aquila //: Kyyrk //:

Felix was a curious one; she gave him that. A hand raised as she declined the offered snack that he had tried to tempt her with again. Parties were typically her thing, but tonight she felt out of sorts. There were too many familiar faces and one that she had wanted to see for some time. But really hadn't realized it until she saw it. There was a brief moment that she could have excused herself from Felix's conversation, but the object of her desire had found themselves enthralled in another.

Quinn looked at the Ryloth noble and smiled gently, "I have faith in Ryloth - especially if the new up-and-coming leaders are as talented as you are. But, please, if Eshan can do anything to help our brothers and sisters in the south, let me know." Quinn knew that Eshan had a bleeding heart; it was how her mother ruled and assumed that's how her sister would lead. Noelle thought hadn't been much of the same since the Netherworld - Quinn worried about the older of the pair.

"For fun? I play the harp, my mother was quite determined to have my sister, and I have some knowledge of the arts, on top of the typical Echani education." Quinn bit her lower lip in thought, "Unfortunately, no sword juggling, but I enjoy traveling, baking, among other things."

The music started; it was a curious choice - but expected of the Sith. The man was pretty scary when she looked over towards him as he took the hand of a lovely woman to wander onto the dance floor. Her chest tightened as she wondered how many more would pair off to dance - a spark of jealousy burned into her heart.

"Do the nobles on Ryloth dance?" Quinn questioned as she offered her hand to the boy beside her. "The music is a few moments in, and you haven't asked me to dance," A teasing smirk spread across her face under the thin wired mask. "I think we should remedy this, don't you? And you could tell me a bit more about yourself, Felix." Her subtle Imperial accent rolled over each letter of his name as she finished. "I'm quite interested."

As if on queue, Voth appeared behind the pair. Quinn looked over her shoulder curiously, wondering how and for how long the man had been lurking behind them. Finally, he spoke, and she forced a small laugh to calm her nerves. "You'll be surprised by some of the vices the Sith indulge in. Enjoying yourself?"​