Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Faction An Evening at the Golden Orchid - Galactic Alliance



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TAGS: Galactic Alliance

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The war had been expected, that much was true. However, the ferocity with which the conflict would truly begin was something few had prepared for. The opening salvos had been hard and heavy, already the list of wounded and lost causing a stir among the Anaxsi talking heads. Of course, a fair number of Mandalorians had been scrubbed, but it did little to reassure those carrying Alliance commissions. Senatorial response had been quick to condemn the actions, worlds all across the alliance springing into action by means of offering aid, refuge, and in some cases - ramping up production of wartime assets and materials. Business was booming. There was some truth to the old adage, "War never changes." Though the drums of war beat their rhythm and the hearts of the valiant thumped in their chests, there was one thing that the war effort still required: Finances. What better way to head off a financial burden than by inviting the upper echelons of Alliance Society to an exclusive dinner at one of the best that Pols Anaxes had to offer?

The invites had gone out only days ago, a last minute effort by Raphael Calgar. He too had only a few days to recover from the injuries sustained in the Thyferra system at the hands of the Mandalorians. His colleague, Natasi Fortan, hadn't returned from that trip. That trip originally had been an effort to improve both their worlds and position them to better support the growing needs of the Alliance. What it had turned into was a quagmire of political backlash and public outcry. Such barbaric actions could not be left to stand. Another reason for the event was to rally the wagons. With inflamed hearts and firm resolve, it would be all the more likely that attendees could be separated from their pocketbooks.

Upbeat tones of Jizz music sounded throughout the entirety of The Golden Orchid, flashy dresses and trim suits adorning the beautiful people there. Alliance citizen, soldier, ally, even Jedi filled the illustrious club as people mingled. It was a perfect opportunity for networking, commiserating, and celebrating the small victories they could. The itinerary was loose, with only a few key events but the one thing that would flow continuously were liquor and hors d'oeuvres. Bartenders, servers, and even kitchen staff were prepped and ready for the throngs.


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Raphael adjusted his tie one more time, squinting narrowly as he looked at himself in the mirror. "There's nothing for it, it seems," he said to no one. The Senator's eye had healed much since his return but even the modern marvels of technology were unable to fix completely what was broken - at least, without replicating it. His natural eye was beyond repair. Of course, there was the matter of the eye, but the man's skepticism kept him from committing. With a soft sigh, he took a step back, content with his appearance. It wasn't that his eye didn't work but Raphael had some difficulty in focusing his vision when it remained uncovered. As such, an unobtrusive patch remained in place over it. A subtle thing, matching in form with his trim suit. "Back to it then," he muttered, turning towards the lavatory exit and heading back out to the main ballroom. He had people to meet, hands to shake, and money to raise for the war effort.




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OOC NOTES

Salutations! Primarily a social thread, physical conflict is discouraged and will be dealt with accordingly!

Who can attend?:
Galactic Alliance Members and Allies.

What can I gain by attending?:
An opportunity to interact with characters you might not regularly get to meet. Additionally, there will be two unique items for "Silent Auction" which will be drawn out of a hat for all those interested. Alliance Members and Guests permitted to enter the "Raffle".​


 

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Outfit: Dress | Wedding Ring
Tag: Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble | Open

Valery smirked and reached up to adjust her husband's bow-tie to make his suit look perfect, "There, that's better," she said after looking him up and down one more time, "I like this look on you, even if it's just for these events." She winked, turned around on her heels and reached for his arm to hold onto his bicep while they entered the Golden Orchid club together. Formal events weren't exactly her thing, usually, but right now it just felt like a good distraction.

It also directly helped the war effort, so for the Sword and Shield to show their faces and offer their support seemed important. But they also weren't alone — Vera and Aris had joined them.


"I hate this dress," Vera declared with an annoyed tone, while she held up her arms and looked down at herself. "What if I need to fight? I can't fight like this," Vera grumbled and looked at her brother for a moment to see what he thought about having to dress up for events like this.

"Oh yeah? Your Mom once fought the most dangerous bounty hunter in the Galaxy in a dress, on heels and without a weapon. I had no trouble~" Valery looked as smug as she could and Vera squinted at her in response. If Mom could do that, she was determined to show everybody that she could do the same.

"Dad? What do you think about these events?" Vera asked, before looking at Aris, again because she wanted his opinion as well.

"Dad loves them, so he can dance with me. Right, love?" Valery grinned, squeezed his arm, and guided them inside.



 




MAKKO

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Makko had almost never worn an outfit as formal as this. He had actually quite enjoyed picking something out and dressing up. Even if in keeping with more of a Denon style he could not help but think he looked like some of the corporate fat cats he had hated. His lightsaber hung from one hip to mark him as a Jedi. They were looking to have some Alliance supporters part with their credits and apparently they enjoyed getting to talk with Jedi Knights.

He was comfortable in the well tailored suit. He was distinctly uncomfortable in the setting. It was a fancy club, jizz music was being played live. Drink was being handed out, as were tiny little snacks that would offer sustenance to Bee's pet porg at best. What was he supposed to do?

Makko found himself meandering around the crowd without purpose. Makko had learned suerton luck manipulation from Jend-Ro Quill. He was trying to resist the temptation to try it out at the tables in one of the side rooms. they were trying to get funding after all.

He saw Valery Noble Valery Noble and family arrive.

What was it Cora said? 'They were looking right at me'.

Makko decided he would meander around a little long before talking to the Nobles. As light fingered as ever, he slipped a flute of bubbly from a passing tray. It was free, but he didn't want to make a fuss and ask them to stop for him.
 
Formal occasions. Shan needed to get used to these things. The outfit felt atrocious, but he had to make a good impression right? He tugged at the collar of it, sighing to himself. Trying to get out of his comfort zone might not have actually been the best idea now that he thought about it all. It was too late now though. The Mirialan was at the club, so he should try to get as comfortable as he could. Making sure to refuse any drinks that were offered in his direction. As much as some liquid courage might help in this situation, well...he preferred to let his mind be fully clear from any issues. He had to stay focused on the task at hand that was...Shoot. He didn't have anything to focus on right now.

He spotted both Makko Vyres Makko Vyres and the noble family off to the side...and made a beeline for the crowd to try and hide himself instead. Shan just wanted to have some fun in here after all, and well...it might be ridiculous, but Vera Noble. That girl. She scared him. The kind of things she knew, without even being there. There were plenty of things that she could pick on him for. Talking to Mandalorians, making friends with them, blushing when he thought about Colette Colette . All of those were things that could bother him...so he veered off to one of the side rooms.

Pazzak. A perfect past time. Alongside a perfect way to lose your money. But hey, this was for funding anyway, right? And Shan didn't really spend much of anything he earned on himself. This was a chance for him to either give more money for funding...or earn more money to use in helping other people! It was a win-win scenario...Though it would help if he fully understood the rules of pazzak.
 

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Location: Pole Anaxes
Attire: X
Tag: Saria Rae Saria Rae

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Parties like these weren’t really the kind that he liked. He generally had more appreciation for the more rustic get-togethers he’d grown fond of years ago. Much more community driven and focused. But at least it couldn’t compare to the gut wrenching decadence of Hapes. To Ko that planet felt more upsetting to him than fighting blood thirsty Mandalorians. If not for his peers he likely wouldn’t ditch that planet entirely.

Ko wasn’t all that familiar with the world of Anaxes beyond it having a strong militaristic pride. It was the kind of world that his family would’ve surely respected. Ko’s own sense of fashion was rather dated, not to mention he couldn’t really see how the colors looked on him. He just had to have faith that he was as stylish as the other Jedi here.

Currently the Kel Dor was observing some of the food that was here for guests to enjoy. Ko had already eaten though since he was certain there wasn’t going to be anything here for a person like him. The kind of cuisines others could enjoy felt even more distant to him now that he couldn’t even see what it looked like. Even so he could respect the culinary arts and the dedication cooks put into their craft. He felt it was admirable to put in such care for such perishable art. There was a certain beauty in it that appealed to him despite not being able to enjoy most of it to its fullest.

It made him wonder about asking Jonyna to teach him more cooking, so that he could make nicer foods for himself that he could enjoy through his antiox mask. Like some nutritious and delicious soups. Perhaps Ko would need to invest in another quality thermos for himself. One of his teas and another for meals that can break up his typical liquid diet of nutri-paste.
 
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- OPEN -​

The war was well and truly on. It was odd to see the events unfold from Anodyne's perspective; She was simultaneously an outsider and an affiliate. Jelucan was likely far from the minds of any Enclave conquests, but she wasn't on Jelcuan anymore. She was an ambassador in the Alliance. And it was difficult being so close to the action, while knowing she couldn't doing anything about it. And with the Enclave fighting going on, it made it all the more tense back home. Would the Alliance be able to come to their aid if the Sith attacked? Would they be too preoccupied beating back Mandalorians? For as glad as she was to be away from home, the idea of it under siege made her scared.

If nothing else, this was an opportunity to see the Alliance war machine at work. To get a first hand look at the sheer scope of it. This event alone already rivaled the biggest parties she saw on Jelucan. The aristocracy of one outer rim world didn't compare to the political giant that was the Galactic Alliance. Anodyne suddenly felt in over her head.

She swallowed thickly as she entered the venue, adjusting the sleeve of her dress; It was a elegant piece, the fabric looked black unless you saw at the right angle, where shades of purple would reveal themselves. It exposed her shoulders and an enticing leg slit, but in spite of her unchanging style, Anodyne wasn't feeling all that fun tonight. Now, everything felt real. The weight of her duties was slung over her back, and as such she carried herself with a slow, distracted gait.
 
Shan Pavond Shan Pavond (???) // Open for Anything, really

Well well, it was time to bring out that Eshan outfit again. This time however it was more by choice than out of necessity. The outfit in question was of course a lovely little piece tailor-made by an unknown artisan in a sweatshop somewhere exotic. Undoubtedly paid for by a corporation giving but a fraction of the piece's true worth.

Nonetheless the outfit sported a white top carefully folded into itself to create a somewhat conservative yet not too overly prudish pattern that offered a small amount of protection from the elements while at the same time also allowing, at the very most, a little skin around her collarbone to reach up for air.

Following this up with the lower half of her outfit there was a dark blue, navy sash tied firmly into place on top of a set of loose utterly nomadcore pants that allowed her legs to move without restriction. Indeed, never let it be said that the silver screen's stylists' interpretation of what the unwashed masses would look like in the event of such a thorough glow-up ever lacked style.

As one let their gaze fall down upon the floor on which Colette stood one would find that these pants would rather naturally and elegantly dip into a set of barely scratched yet comfortably worn-in bistre brown boots that just further accentuated the earthen vibe of her personality. Colette had, rather naturally, also decided to keep the poncho-like cloak that she had been sold on the occasion that she had acquired this outfit. The cloak was, of course, a rather fine cerulean poncho-like cloak that offered just a little bit extra protection from - at the very least - the sun were it not for the fact that they were, to the dismay of none but her, inside.

To put a pretty bow on the rest of her getup she would wear her hair in an updo as inspired by one of the many beauty magazines spread about Corazona's room when the blonde ex-princess was instructing the primal savage, Colette, how to look good while still keeping it modest. This was, as one rather naturally would assume, also applied to the make-up that in and of itself was the very definition of Colette herself: less is more.

Naturally, what all of this was meant to say was that when put together in front of a mirror it made for a damned good reflection and one that Colette in a surprise turn of events actually found herself enjoying quite a lot too.

Obviously there was absolutely no denying that Colette didn't particularly enjoy the act of hubberdinging or schmuttzing with the self-imposed 'upper class' or whatever just hanging out was was called when it came to these people, but there was also no denying that she had come to understand that she would need to take each shot that she had at filing down some of her sharper edges. After all, she had been told they were 'perhaps a little too much' at times.

Despite the pretentious outfit that made her look amazing, she still felt entirely out of place when she looked around. There was Valery, but she was rather unsurprisingly engaging with Kahlil and Vera. It would be unfortunate to be at an event like this and then not try to meet someone new, or at the very least talk to the person that would ever come as close to 'mom' as Colette would ever know.

So, she stood still and just kind of looked around the place. The music was really weird here, and why was it that the kids kept giggling every time someone brought it up? Was there something funny about this music?
 
...Okay. Pazzak wasn't Shan's wheelhouse. Maths wasn't a strong suit for him it appeared. Or well, probability. He was lucky when it came to things that mattered but when it came to things that didn't matter like gambling? Shan would have better luck getting an Ukatian Noble to do their own laundry. Urgh. He had already lost a bunch of credits. Maybe getting out of this place was the best plan of action. He was sure the nobles must have moved on anyway. If they hadn't came into the room, then Shan was clearly safe. So he excused him from the side room to head back into the main area of the club.

It still seemed pretty active. He could see Ko in the distance, causing Shan to tilt his head. The sight of the Kel Dor in a club like this was...strange to say the least. He'd expect Ko to be doing something more...dignified. Well, that's not to say being at a club isn't dignified. It just didn't seem like Ko's place. Shan could never see his friend in a place like this. Either way, he needed to get himself a drink. Hurrying off to find one of the servers handing them out, it reminded Shan a bit of his experience whilst in the captivity of the Sith. A small frown spreading across his face at that thought, as he tried to calm himself down. Thinking back on that experience wasn't exactly going to be a great way at relaxing...

The Mirialan shook his head, trying to focus before finding himself bumping into someone. "O-Oh. Don't mind me. I apologise Ma'am." Shan raised his eyes from the floor and looked up to the person he had bumped into...blinking a few times afterwards. His panic fading away at the sight of Colette in front of him. At least he presumed it was her. She just looked...more fancy than he had expected. "Oh. Colette Colette ...Erh...You...Erm..." What was he meant to say? They hadn't spoken since his birthday when the girl had kissed him on the cheek. He had spoken to people about her since then but that was around it. "...You look nice. I mean...you always look nice. I just mean you look extra nice today...and erh...well...Hi." Shan just broke out into an awkward smile, rubbing the back of his neck as he just stood there. Not sure what else to say.
 


Saria didn't quite know what to do with herself.

What she had expected was a sophisticated gathering ripe for gathering knowledge and exchanging enlightened dialogue on matters of intergalactic cooperation. It was a drive for the war after all, a time for people to discuss how they should engage with the pressing issue of conflict.

It still seemed sophisticated, but it was kind of just a party. Rich folk here to show off their contributions to the drive, snooty banter that wasn't really in depth or socratic whatsoever... It was almost the antithesis of what she had expected.

But Saria still had a reputation to uphold. She topped her classes and sat at the forefront of Jedi learners looking to speak on the matter of peace and settle conflicts through discussion. It was simply a point of contention that she would have to get over. Still, perhaps there was a face around that the Mirialan had no issue socializing with...

Shan Pavond Shan Pavond she saw first, with Colette Colette . There was no way she was getting involved there. Saria couldn't keep down a smirk as she moved on, her eyes settling on...

Ko Vuto, the young Kel Dor man who had arrived fashionably late to Shan's birthday party. He had a reputation as well, having worked his way up from the Agricultural Corps to be one of the leading students of their generation. A fellow studious individual, and more likely than not a rival of intelect. If Saria was going to have any luck socializing, it would surely be there. She made her way towards him as least-awkwardly as she could manage, peering around the rather tall padawan to observe what he was observing; The food table.

"Ah, I suppose they never really take individuals with atmospheric difficulties into account at events like these," she lamented. "Don't worry, I've commited myself to not eating. I wouldn't want to get my dress dirty. We can both be hungry in solidarity."

She extended a hand for greeting, giving a warm smile. Saria was, of course, unaware that Ko was blind.

"Saria Rae," she introduced. "It's lovely to aquaint with you more officially."


 

Kol Ambo

Guest
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It was a formal affair, so Kol Ambo had broken with tradition.

He was wearing a tie.

Otherwise, his tan coat, brown pants, and off-white shirt were typical of his normal attire. He'd gotten a haircut, but that wasn't entirely evident in his appearance. He was a frumpled-looking man of dubious professional affiliation, wearing a style of clothing that was so out of date it would be hard to pick the appropriate century.

Kol had just come back from a stint on the Outer Rim, on a wild goose chase for Vikrin Volk, a serial murderer who had been touring the galaxy collecting toes. Grim business, and he hadn't even gotten his man.

At least he'd gotten enough extra-national work hours to maintain his reserve status for the year.

When he'd come out of it, he'd found a courtesy invitation to this event in his inbox. Sometimes people in law enforcement were thrown a bone. He'd decided to catch it this time. He could use some drinks and snacks and company from people who weren't criminals.

Well... there would probably be Senators here, so maybe non-criminals was a bridge too far.

He grabbed a drink from one passing tray, and something exotic on a cracker from another. A crunch. A sip.

Not bad, whatever the hell it was.

He noted Anodyne Lyori Anodyne Lyori nearby. He didn't know her, but that was probably the point of shindigs like this.

"The purple stuff on the crackers is pretty good," he said to her, "and the red drink in the glass with the loopy stem is spicy, if you like that sort of thing."

He tried on a smile, and his face didn't crack.


"Name's Kol."






 
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Eloise had been reluctant to go to the party. Not because she had a stick up her ass about capitalism or resented rich people, but because she didn't know what to wear. She had some fancy clothes, but they were all from her time on Zaathru. The free dress she had commissioned Thelma Goth Thelma Goth to make hadn't come yet (and might never arrive, given that the vamp chick had left the Order), and she didn't really have the funds to buy something decent on the spur of the moment.

In the end, she did wear one of the Zaathru outfits: a blue dress decorated with silvery stars, an embroidered cloak, and tons of jewelry. Her wild mane of purple hair was freed from its customary braids, and her hands were painted silver, a ceremonial aspect of the outfit which was included with the pocket wardrobe and couldn't be easily washed off. Oh well. At least it didn't rub off on anything she touched.

Which, so far, was finger food and colorful cards. She sat at the pazaak table, trying to figure out how the game worked. She knew she was supposed to add up the numbers or keep them down, but still wasn't sure of the goal or how to go about doing so effectively, as evident by her sour expression.

A few of her fellow Padawans, such as Makko Vyres Makko Vyres and Shan Pavond Shan Pavond , were also hanging around the tables. Shan had made an attempt at playing, but quickly gave up and went to go hang around with Colette Colette , who was only the second worst dressed person in the club. The dubious honor of first place went to Saria Rae Saria Rae , who looked like a space nun (but then, didn't she always?). Given the fashion on display tonight, maybe she shouldn't have cared so much about her own outfit. Ah well.

Tags: OPEN
 
The Prime Minister of the Renascent Republic was nobody in the Galactic Alliance's grand scheme of things. She was not royalty, not Jedi, not a Senator, not even a businesswoman that would make her relevant to Anaxes. But if anyone thought that was going to stop Renata Westaway, they had another thing coming indeed.

Resplendent in a silken crimson evening suit, the blonde checked her coat and tucked a tidy black clutch under one arm as she paused at the entrance to survey the room. Glitz, glamor, and jizz; it was almost enough to remind her of her First Order days. Glassy blue-green eyes narrowed on the figure of a man in an eye-patch emerging from the lavatory passage, and she made a bee-line. She wasn't here to gladhand the great and good with the Galactic Alliance; perhaps there would be time for that later. But of all the people Renata Westaway had access to, Raphael Calgar Raphael Calgar was the one who had last seen Natasi Fortan alive.

She caught up to him in short order, her patent stilettos giving her some measure of an elongated gait, and fell into step at the Senator's side. He wouldn't know it, but they had more in common than their acquaintance with the Supreme Leader. Some years ago she had been maimed by a Ssi-Ruuk warrior during a patrol gone badly wrong. She had worn an eyepatch for years before being rescued from the collapsed ruins of old Garden Street Station during the liberation of Dosuun. She wore a rather convincing prosthetic now, but she was familiar with his experience, at least somewhat.

"Smart," she said by way of greeting. She gestured to the eye that she had lost -- coincidentally, the same side as his, so as to insure that he knew she was talking about his injury. "Keeping it covered and clean. It's no good to rush into a permanent prosthetic, no matter what they say. It's not just the eye, you know. There are nerves and muscles and the brain -- it's all together. Move too quickly and they could reject the eye." Her voice was almost strident, despite the genteel atmosphere.

"It's not often you meet someone in the same... club," she said delicately. "Shall we swap stories? How did you manage?"

Renata had some idea of how he'd "managed" -- from a few intelligence sources that had a reason to know that Senator Calgar had been involved with her Supreme Leader's abduction as a potential target -- but it was always better to hear the story from the horse's mouth.
 

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- Open -
Alicio was used to showing his support at a gala. He would always be there for a cause he believed in. But something felt different about tonight.

Never before had his cause been war.

Long past was the version of Alicio Organa that flitted at the edges of the party, like a shadow dancing timidly by candlelight. Now, his dark outfit casted a long shadow in the center of the room. Once, he was a wallflower, but now he understood that being here, in the thick of it all, was how he could drum up the most support. How he could save the most people.

So he talked. Passed himself from group to group, accidentally gathering small circles of influential folks around him, where he endorsed Raphael Calgar Raphael Calgar 's fundraiser. Alicio listened to their stories, their concerns, and gave a few of his own in return. Alderaan was donating, of course, but not as much as others could. They'd just begun to train in their own defense force- and had refugee work to drain their pockets. It would be irresponsible of them to give more.

But every little bit helped. Especially if the whole Alliance chipped in.

That was how they would perservere. Together.

Still, it was tiring work. Excusing himself from his latest conversation, the Count traveled away from it all, if only for a quick breather.
 




Raphael had exited the lavatory, quietly wandering his way back towards the lobby - it was technically his event, or at least he was the host of it. Of course, the benefit was meant to support the entire Alliance, at least coming from this small circle of allied and core that made up the Galactic Alliance. There would be others, no doubt, but this was perhaps the first. He tread alone for a moment, his thoughts wandering between the night's festivities and demons which whispered in his ear. It was a surprise then when Renata fell into step with him, an unfamiliar gait echoing with his own steps. A flash of red cloth he caught in the corner of his eye and he looked over to his side, pace slowing to a more comfortable stroll. Heels. Never could imagine. Not fun to walk in, I'd suppose.

"You've got me there. Not one to jump unknowingly into something I might regret later," he responded. "There are of course, exceptions to the rule." Renata was certainly not an unattractive woman, his gaze lingering. The primary reason though, Raphael felt an odd familiarity like he'd seen her before. He couldn't place where. "Well, it wasn't by running with scissors - exactly," he joked. Truthfully, the eye still pained him and the manner in which he'd lost it had left an impression all its own. Humor was his shield of sorts but his voice took a subtle edge as he almost seemed to relive the experience. "I'm not a storyteller by nature, so you'll excuse my brevity. I wouldn't want to bore you with the details but suffice it to say intelligence was lacking and I ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time. Thyferra to be more specific, and Ukatis, but the details are a little fuzzy on account of the injury," he paused. "Pardon the pun."

Descending a set of stairs towards the main floor, Raphael offered the woman a hand. "I do hope you're enjoying the evening so far, everything is paid for so, no worries on that front."

Raphael had himself put quite a decent amount of capital forwards on funding this endeavor. Still can't place her. A politician? Intelligence? I should probably guard my tongue. Government types were usually the kind to worry about incurring costs, funding streams, the lot. He found you could tell a lot about a person by whether they drank, smoked, or any number of other inherent behaviors humankind developed over time. Maybe I am more like my father than I thought. "I apologize, I'm at a bit of a loss. What's your connection to the Alliance?" An intrusive thought wormed its way into his mind. What if she has no connection to the Alliance? Subterfuge, here? It was a possibility, though perhaps a slim one.

A passing waiter nimbly carted a tray of champagne flutes nearby, Raphael raising a hand. "A drink?" he offered the woman, edge of his lips forming what was a cordial smile.



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Horace von Cholmondeley II

Guest
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As both a symbol of perseverance and a warning that Mandalorian invasion could happen to any world, King Horace von Cholmondeley of Ukatis was in attendance. Confined to a hoverchair, he sat surrounded by his attendants (whose sole purpose was to ensure he didn't drop dead in the middle of the party) and a revolving door of influential people, though most of them were drawn to him only out of morbid curiosity.

Not that he cared what they thought of him anymore. Age and ill health had removed any lingering sense of self-consciousness. Horace seized a glass from a passing server droid's tray, guzzling it down while his eyes roamed over the crowds, scanning for a flash of ankle or a heaving bosom among the prettier ladies. Weird how some of their women wore pants like men, though he wasn't exactly complaining...

"Ah, this sucks." He tossed the empty glass into the hand of his attendant. "Haven't they got anything stronger?"

 


"In fact, they do." Vincent stepped forward from the shadows behind the rather large bearded man. Motioning towards one of the many wait staff standing at the ready, he whispered but loudly enough that the man beside him could hear. "Come boy, and pour for me a cup, of old Falernian. Fill it up with wine, strong, sparkling, bright, and clear; Our host decrees no water here." A knowing nod in reply and the lad darted off with purpose. Turning to face the man, our resident shadow lifted a small flask in offering. "While we wait?"

Despite his usual cloak and dagger, Vincent bore no ill will this night, nor his flask any hint of poison or drug that would addle one's senses - save for the liquor itself. "Corellian," Vincent noted. Unusual, certainly, but the SIA man had connections. Might not have been the most upstanding ones, but they got the job done and Agent Coyle managed to meet his quotas and so, all was right with the galaxy. So to speak, anyway.

"You know, you can find almost anything your heart desires - if you know the right person and the right phrase." Taking a swig of his flask, he wiped his lips with the cuff of his sleeve. A well worn suit, not trashy by any stretch but the attire of a man who worked for a living. Well worn leather shoes, a weathered Fedora, dark tinted sunglasses despite being indoors. "What brings you to Anaxes, your Majesty?" Coyle knew not the man by way of having met him before but Coyle liked to think he was well read - despite his rough edges. The King of Ukatis rarely had need to leave his planet but perhaps the recent attacks had coaxed the turtle out from beneath his shell. "Whatever the reason, it's places like this where fast friends are made you know."

 
Shan Pavond Shan Pavond

"Oh, hi." Colette chuckled out of nervousness. "Hello"

Why was she like this? It was always easy to talk and speak her mind, but not here and not now. Why? She struggled to come up with much of anything to say.

"You look nice." She spoke at the same time as Shan and quickly shut up. "I mean, you always…" It happened again and she fell quiet again to let Shan speak and for her nerves to try and straighten themselves out. It didn't work.

"Hello, again." She said and rubbed at the back of her own neck. "Uh, nice party."

"Apparently, uh, this music is called jizz." She said and looked over at her friend. Her very awkward friend. "Personally, not a big fan of jizz. But it seems to be everywhere in the galaxy."

"Uhm, err, what about you? Do you enjoy jizz? I- I mean, not judging you if you do. If you like jizz then, you know, you like jizz."
 
When were the Sith when you needed them? Shan would happily take another beating from a Sith than deal with the current awkwardness.

Alright. He just had to listen to what Kahlil's advice was. Listen to Colette. Or at least, properly listen to her as he shrugged his shoulders at the question she had asked the Mirialan, putting on an awkward little smile.

"Not overly. I'm not a huge jizz fan. I mostly came to try....and get out of my comfort zone. Tried a bit of pazzak...but my luck is terrible. Who'd have guessed gambling was a bad idea, huh? This really isn't my kind of place heh. Not good at gambling, and not a fan of Jizz."

Shan rubbed the back of his neck, cursing himself mentally at how stupid this all was. Come on. Say something good. Get rid of the awkwardness. "...Do you want to...erh...sit down somewhere and chat? Or we can stay standing. I mean...I might not like Jizz, but I like you. Spending time with you, I mean." He tugged at the collar of his suit, letting out a small grumble.

"It feels so stuffy in here...Is it just me? It's probably just me."
Breathe damn it. Breathe. Shan was struggling at the most basic part of living. Everything just felt so embarrassing right now. What was the saying on how to relax when talking to someone? Imagine them as talking vegetables?...For some reason Shan felt like if he did that, he'd be more nervous, so he just gave Colette another smile.

Colette Colette
 
Renata hesitated briefly, then placed her hand in the Senator's proffered one. Stairs were a bit of a challenge in such high heels, after all. "Obliged," she said. Renata Westaway -- the soul of brevity. She deliberately slowed the pace on the stairs, offering an apologetic grimace. Not because she couldn't maneuver in the shoes, but because she wanted to trap the good Senator there a moment longer. Renata Westaway -- the soul of manipulation.

"I'm afraid it's the long, boring, gory story I'm after," she told him, her other hand seizing the banister. "Listen, I'm not here to cause trouble. I'll make a sizeable donation on behalf of my -- organization." The Senator seemed unaware of Renata's position and there was no reason she couldn't have a little fun with him until he did. Besides, he might be more willing to spill the beans if she remained enigmatic for a little while longer. Or perhaps not, in which case she would introduce herself properly.

Renascent Republic agents had observed Calgar's return from Utakis without Senator Fortan. They had intercepted a vague outline of the details he had shared with Director Messervy once the Director had made it clear that keeping the Republic informed of the situation was not high on his list of priorities. The disdain that one had for former Imperials of any stripe -- Westaway included -- was going to cause friction. She assumed he would be deeply unhappy to discover that Renata had agents operating in the theater, now, too.

But all of that was set dressing now and she needed to get some actionable intelligence. "That wasn't meant as a bribe, by the way," Renata said in a hushed undertone to Raphael Calgar Raphael Calgar . "I'm simply trying to convey that whatever the subtle details, you and I are on the same side. What I really want to know is what happened to Senator Fortan."

They reached the floor at last, Renata releasing Senator Calgar's hand with a gracious dip of her head in thanks. "Lovely," she said by way of accepting his offer of a drink. "My connection to the Alliance -- well, I'm a citizen of sorts. Officially I'm the Prime Minister of the Renascent Republic -- the monarch of which was last seen alive in your presence. Nikolai Messervy, it might surprise you to know -- or not -- is being less than forthcoming about what is known of her whereabouts and status. It might have been possible to keep this all quiet, but some yutz splashed it across the pages of a galactic media publication and now I've got the Renascent Parliament up my ass about their queen and benefactor, so -- can you help me out?"
 



ANAXES


"Mm, of course."

Mingling with aristocrats came naturally to Corazona - she was, after all, a socialite in her own right. Her dress, an elegant cut of dark blue silk with a halter neckline that would make a conservative Ukatian noblewoman sneer, had been carefully chosen alongside Colette Colette as the pair primped and preened for the event.

Speaking of, Cora's gaze wandered briefly over the shoulder of the man she'd been holding a one sided conversation with, nodding along gently and smiling prettily in time with his monologue. The graceful figure of Colette came into her view, alongside Shan Pavond Shan Pavond at the pazzak tables. They both cleaned up nicely; Shan in a suit that he disliked yet still looked good in, and Colette in a charming outfit that suited the tribal perfectly.

As she took another delicate sip from her flute of champagne, a brow arched in amusement over what she could see of their awkward - and frankly adorable - interaction.
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"It is interesting, I know, and when I…"

The man continued to drone on about his investments, seemingly more interested in talking to her as a young woman (or a prop), rather than as a Jedi. If one missed the faint scarring spread across her bare shoulders, then the lightsaber hilt hanging from the golden adornment at her abdomen would denote her as such.

"Oh, goodness." She intoned with just the right amount of feigned surprise at something the man had said. It was easy to listen for tone shifts in a conversation, and give the appropriate response that your partner was hoping to hear.

The Nobles were here too, Valery Noble Valery Noble in the infamous dress, and Vera scowling at her own getup. Ko Vuto Ko Vuto , Saria Rae Saria Rae and Eloise Dinn Eloise Dinn were familiar faces here as well, dressed nicely for the part they were here to play. Catching the glint of a lightsaber hilt at the waist of a man in a sharp suit, Cora's eyes narrowed just slightly as she tried to discern whether he was familiar or not.

Oh. She nearly spit out a mouthful of champagne, swallowing it down thickly. The investor didn't seem to notice, happily chattering away. That's Makko Vyres Makko Vyres ? I didn't recognize him dressed like that. He looks good.

"It was actually six months ago that I sat on the board for Larr Shipping and Transport…or was it eight months ago…"

Cora tilted her head in acknowledgment, stilling suddenly as her gaze drifted over the familiar sight of several Ukatian attendants surrounding her former father-in-law, Horace von Cholmondeley Sr. Sickly as he was, she was surprised to see the King of Ukatis in attendance.

Given that she’d killed his son, Cora made a quick mental note to avoid him.
 
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