Anders' Life Day Birthday Bash (Fringe)

[Yasha Cadera]

"Someday you're going to be halfway across the galaxy and you're gonna yell 'help' and it'll take my fastest ship to break through in time. Maybe I ought to give you Tyr or Tus to keep a . . no that's dumb, you'd . . . is it stupid and girly of me to admit I missed you? Even with your big mouth. No hiding it now, I'll have to show up to Council meetings in a dress just for the ones that missed the announcement."

His baritone lilt sweeps over me, I feel the heat in my cheeks and I step back from my cuddle against his shoulder to continue hearing the syllables that make up his Dathomiri surprise. They'd better not have put scratches on his back, or some witches were gonna get dead. . . who am I kidding? I get Bucket to catch and release the spiders that make their way onto the Sumatiyara.

He opens his hand and three shining red gems glisten in the palm of his hand. "Mikha. . . are those. . . " Corusca gems. I barely breathe as I glance up at his face for an affirmation, my fingers not courageous enough to venture the inches to his palm and pick up one of the near priceless gems. They glimmer and shine with a light fuelled by a planet's worth of pressure and cutting edges. "I can't take these, they're your prize from . . . oh my gosh they're the most beautiful gems I've ever seen." My hand reaches, I wrap my fingers around his hand and chuckle softly at how much bigger his fist is than mine. Nearly as tall as Mikhail, I'm a thoroughly lanky sort of girl, thin wristed and slenderly boned. I'd snap like a twig in a stiff breeze, if not for the mercy of the Light. There's a seeping glisten of that light in his eyes tonight, a mystery yet to be unravelled and as my hand wraps around atop the gems and his palm, I pull the clasped hands toward my chest as I pull a long, tender kiss from his lips. The flush on my cheeks must be from the gems now, their inner glow buzzing through my palm and straight to my cardiovascular centre. "I'm the luckiest girl in the galaxy tonight. A fantastic party, great DJ's, flowing drinks, and the best lover a woman could ask for. I love you, Mikha. I'm glad you're here."

My eyes shunt open, did I say that to Mikhail Throne Breaker Shorn? "Ah. . I . . . ah, do. . do you w-want a drink? Ah. . the Tea Master is in the next room if you . . you don't drink tea. I can call Bucket!"

 

[Lord Ghoul]

As the gems left his hands he felt like a big anvil had been plucked off his chest. He'd been carrying them around for so long, not knowing what to do with them. A symbol of his freedom to do anything and the paralyzing aloneness it brought.

Wait.... was she? The weight came crashing back down, several tons heavier.

Sometimes Mikhail Shorn enjoyed terrifying people. Sometimes it just made him downright irritated.

"Calm the hell down, I'm not going to throw you through a wall just because you gave me a damn compliment."

He gave her a smile that was too thin and frustrated to be real. The aura of danger he wore around himself was supposed to do this to people. Make them uncomfortable and on age. He got off on pushing the buttons of those in authority who thought themselves untouchable. Here, alone with Andra, he just wanted to take it off, but it wasn't a stanging mantle he could just drape around his shoulders at a whim. He wasn't half that good of an actor. It was a very real, intangible vestige of the mercurial power that rested within him. At the drop of a hat he could tear the roof down. Who wouldn't be a little bit on edge around him?

Reaching out with the same impulsive confidence that allowed him to claim whatever he set his eye on as "mine," Mikhail Shorn wrapped his arms around Andra and drew her close.

"I said hours," he whispered, breath hot on her ear, "Alone. And I meant it."


[member="Anders Sivas"]

 

[Yasha Cadera]

The sheer thrill of fear which spikes through my chest leaves me in a cheek flushed gasp as [member="Mikhail Shorn"] pulls me into his arms. I nearly drop the gemstones, clinging to them with shivering fingers. "I just. . . there's like two hundred people here and the empathic imprints are chasing around and I don't want this to end . . . you. . . oh thank the Goddesses. I take it the compliment made you kind of happy? I hope?"

Many of the companions in my life's walk have called me two steps from insane for forgiving Mikhail and sharing my bed. Whether the sisterly words of Kitt, the reproach of Bucket, the austere emotional vacancy of Lucien or the quiet worry of Elias, there hasn't been a single person who called whatever this is a good idea. And it's not. Mikhail is the worst idea I've ever had. He's the potential death of me, a harrowing and vicious Sith Lord who could separate the atoms from my body faster than I could throw up my hands. Falling in love with Mikhail Shorn is a terrible idea.

Maybe I'm the Patron Saint of Terrible Ideas.

The first time we met was a blur, yet after Jared died and Mikhail had Jared's memories shunted into his brain, I came to see a flicker in Mikhail. A slim and strangled hope left desolate on what remained of his hefty and self-effacing conscience, Mikhail seemed to crave one person for whom to be a better man. Yes he'll mess up. Yes, he's dangerous and yes I'm putting myself in the arms of the Throne Breaker. I see inside of his cerulean eyes a moment of redemption, for I too have woken up from a stupor and gone 'what have I done?'. Mikhail promised me once that he'd screw up and at some point I would get hurt, but I heal when broken and it is worth the chance to see the pain in his eyes drift off for farther pastures.

As Mikhail pulls me into his arms, the fear and the nerves melt away. I am but a breath-taken woman in the arms of her lover, having been given the greatest gift he could possess. One hand still holds the gems, it presses against his chest and slides up to rest my wrist on his shoulder as the other arm nestles around the back of his waist. His voice thrills through my ear and down my spinal column, the hairs at the back of my neck stand and exhale a timid and fulfilling moan. "Hours and hours. The party will keep going without us. . . Livia and Elias are out there. They'll keep things bumping." The unsettled emotions drifted off for distant, nightmarish pastures, I nuzzle my forehead on his lips and smile. Mikhail might be one of the most dangerous men in the Galaxy, but in the crook of his arms I am cared for and protected. My lips press against the crook of his neck.

"Happy birthday, me."

 

[Judah Lesan]

Xander Blackmoore always had a style of his own, and the leather jerkin and puffy pants were something he usually was not seen without. There were other outfits he owned, the one he had been parading around the galaxy in lately with the blue coat and hood, but tonight he fell to his default. Perhaps his leather breastplate would be found, or another made by his servants on Ec Pand, but until then, the Monarch had settled for purchasing new items. After all he still had access to the fortunes of the Indupar Crown Worlds despite not being on the throne. He could imagine how the current monarch would be dumbfounded to know his vaults had been raided by some unseen spectre. All of it was part of a plan, a plan to regain everthing that had been his.

Tonight was not about him, however. There was a Life Day celebration to attend, something Xander had not done in a long time. Parties weere something the Induparan Noble was accustomed to being in attendance for. The nature of his position as a regal man in a feudal monarchy required it. The Sith was certain most of the dances he knew for these type of events were no longer practiced by anyone. However, Xander did not care. He would be content to sit and nurse a fine and well aged bottle of wine for the evening as he had no true companions.

Xander walked into the venue and clearly noticed he clearly stood out as out of place. He shrugged and continued in, straight for the bar. Of course he asked to peruse the collection of wine to find he no longer knew what was a good year. Though anything his actual age would have to be good, so he pointed to something close, and hoped for the best. His hand raised as he twisted at the jewel around his neck, an amulet of great significance to him. It was the only part of his past still in his possession, save his lightsabers.

 

[Blackthorne]

"I have never," came the wisp reply of the Ambassador at [member="Lucianus Adair"]'s side. Glowing saffron eyes did glance to the man briefly before panning across the grand entry of the party. Loxa could not, for all her many memories, recall ever celebrating Life Day though she did know of it. It was not something celebrated by the Crusade, either, with the closest equivalent being the Day of the Reviver.

Name days. Also something Loxa could not recall celebrating for ... many years. Not since her early childhood, if she really thought long and hard. Those memories were fleeting and disconnected, serving only as brief images of a time and place so long and far away it was as if only a dream. Somewhere out in this great, vast galaxy the Priestess had a real family. A blood family. Somewhere out there, maybe someone still thought of her and wondered where she was, what had become of her, if she was still alive.

Expression sober, brows lifting to wash away such dreary ponderings, Loxa admired the hall and it's beautiful decorations, "I hope I have dressed well for the occasion, it seems such a grand thing." An arm lifted slightly to indicate her own ceremonial robes. They were considered quite the fine and highly appreciated garb within the Crusade. Handcrafted with utmost skill and perfection, the golden embroidery gleamed in the lights of the room. At her neck an antique necklace of brass and phrik shone with vintage appeal. The maids and attendants assigned by the Reviver had seen to every detail - including the long gold-plaited braid neatly pulled into a bun and the ornamental earrings of obsidian dangling at either side of her face. It was the first time she'd worn makeup - if one did not care to count facial warpaint from her days within the witch tribes. She felt, for all the galaxy, overdressed and mildly misplaced.

The Reviver would have gleamed confidently like a Hercamer Diamond in the sun were she in attendance, but she was not and so Loxa's diamond in the rough would have to do.

She would endeavor to make a good impression, "I have a gift for Councilor Sivas," Loxa said in a low tone to Lucianus, "from the Aesirs. Perhaps I should see to that first."

 

[Lucianus Adair]

The ways of [member="Loxa Visl"] were not far off from his own behaviours when it came to celebrations such as this - it had been long since he had personally elected to celebrate his own rise from the womb, not since he was a child, himself, in the company of his long-dead father, and in the absence of a mother he never met or knew much of anything about. His opinions of his own originating family were not worth having, but... he ceased that line of thought, returning his attention to the Ambassador. He did not offer a return to her answer, instead scanning the hall for the individual most guilty of pulling together this... distraction.

And he found... her?... behind Hapan doors with a figure he knew the face, name, and deeds of, but with which he could not claim a mote of acquaintance. The sight of [member="Anders Sivas"] in a long, flowing pink dress caused only one of his eyebrows to flick upward, and that was all the reaction such a discovery would get. Now he knew what was meant by the 'he's a she' he had heard while making his query to Loxa. He examined the position of the body of the Councillor and that of [member="Mikhail Shorn"], his pale eyes narrowing when the Ambassador mentioned dispensing with the giving of the gift she had brought first and foremost. Had he brought one? No, for his mere presence was something of a rare gift in itself.

"I suggest that we get her..." for further emphasis, he tipped his head in the direction of the embracing pair, who looked to him like they were so beyond the point of merely 'ready' to mate that their presence here together could be considered a little more than indecent, "...attention before the Thronebreaker devours the councillor whole, Ambassador."

 

[Lord Ghoul]

Her warm, soft lips against his neck made Shorn smile as only he could. He blinked once and the lights dimmed to a muted amber glow. In the hush of near-darkness they kissed fiercely, softly, slowly... right up until he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

"Don't look now, but we're being watched," he said in a husky whisper.

Then he proceeded to look right at [member="Lucianus Adair"], cold blue gaze cutting through half the room to meet a stare that could only be described as that of a lazy predator, who lounged comfortably amidst the sheeple. For a brief second he contemplated getting the rise out of the man by continuing, but that would be one of those inconsiderate things that Andra wanted him to work on. His lips twitched. Oh the struggle.

Mood ruined, he offered an exaggerated sigh and broke apart from Andra. "I forgot. The doors are Hapan style. Silly me. Let's go meet the inquisitive guests."

[member="Anders Sivas"] [member="Lucianus Adair"] [member="Loxa Visl"]

 

[Blackthorne]

"...her?" Loxa intoned curiously, following the man's gaze across the room to the spritely vision of pink - a color not typically found within Crusade territory where decor and apparel was concerned. Her eyes narrowed briefly, lips thinning in thought. The Aesirs had always referred to Council Sivas as a male, which made the Ambassador wonder just who was the mistaken party here.

It certainly couldn't be the Fringe.

Brows knitting somewhat, she hoped that whatever the gift was, it would be fitting for such a very femme female.

"Hm," one of her hands brushed across the small bulk of the present within a hidden pocket of her robes, "agreed." [member="Lucianus Adair"] leading the way through the throngs of guests, Loxa stepped along with him, soundless but for the gentle clinking of her jewelry.

When finally [member="Anders Sivas"] and her date, [member="Mikhail Shorn"], made their way from the privacy of the room beyond, Loxa offered the Councilor an amiable greeting over lilting pacean accent, "Councilor Sivas, namasté and Happy Name Day to you."

 

[Yasha Cadera]

Since childhood I was plagued by an abundance of peoples. Each step in the world was a tumbling choke into the breath and life of another being who was more suited, more passionate, more alive. This is the first Life Day I remember. I know others have passed me by and until [member="Mikhail Shorn"] destroyed my symbiotic tethers to the personalities I'd been that day he finally won me I had no hope of recovering their passing. As he holds me dear and kisses me slow I see flashes behind my mind's eyes. Walking through trees on Endor, curling up with a view of the Annaj skyline, spending Life Day on Coruscant with [member="Elias Truden"] and [member="Livia Maddox"] when I was barely fourteen. I don't remember what we did, but I remember Livia changing dressings on my side and I remember feeling like someone had lit my ribs on fire.

Five months later, I'd wake up on Mandalore and fire my first pistol since I was in the Service of the Queen. Was I in the Queen's service or was that Livia? The memories are a kaleidoscope filled with over-exposed colours and I the lonely eye peering through it see all unravel but the present. Mikha's arms hem me in and soothe the cacophonous cadence of the party-goers until there are no party goers. He pulls away and I gasp, eyes blinking open and for a second or three I don't understand, I don't see what he's seeing.

I'd be clueless in a real danger zone. Maybe that's why Jared bought me Bucket?

"Mmmh?" My eyes clear from the euphoria of Mikha's affection and the entire banquet hall's worth of people's empathic imprints and telepathic chatter veer back into my brain. "Oh. . Oh." I avoid twirling around to follow Mikhail's blue eyes to [member="Lucianus Adair"] and [member="Loxa Visl"], siphoning the information straight from Mikhail's brain. "Oh my goddess of mercy he came. Dude, we are so going to have to celebrate his birthday now." My hands go to my face and hair, I'm setting strands to rights and licking my lips to avoid an embarrassing lack of lipstick. . . which is. . . on Mikhail's neck. Wiping it away, I take a cleansing breath and re-erect the mental barriers which have been keeping me from flip-flopping between the highest, most charismatic presences in the room. "How do I look? Ready to meet the goodly Ambassador? Gosh, Luc did good bringing her along. I'm surprised he made it. Wanna take a bet on how long he lasts before huffing and looking for a wall to haunt?" I whisper.

Face flushed but make up intact (was there a smudge in my eyeliner?), I pull my hand through the crook in Mikhail's elbow and give Bucket the dirtiest glare known to droid kind. How dare he flick the screens up on the Hapan Door! Bad droid! Bad, bad droid. I walk steadily up to The Morossi Ambassador and curtsey with all the appropriate solemnity and abrupt talent of a girl-child educated in the Court of Naboo. The necklace roped around my neck a nod to my Courtly education on my homeplanet is the only indication aside from the distinct posture and use of cosmetics and secrets to conceal my gender so long. "Madame Ambassador, a pleasure to meet your acquaintance. I am Anders Sivas... I assure your confusion is justified. My childhood in the Court of Naboo taught more than dignity and mediation. Personal camouflage was a must in Abhayaradha's Court ad a growing boy travelling alone was a far safer sight than an impressionable young girl. Now situated in my new home, I have found enough security to present my verified colours. May the Goddess of Compassion attend your needs with comfort and blessing. You must tell me how your Aesir fair? I had concerns our fair High Councillor Adair would somehow misplace his invitations." In the trash. Luc'd ditch them in the trash and turn on Deathball reruns while sipping some raucously under appealing beverage and eating steak off the bone, one naked bulb flickering between on and off swinging from the sole rope fixture in his bachelor pad. . . Gee. That was harsh of my own inner monologue. My dimpled cheeks quirk with a demure smile as I motion to the man whose elbow my arm is still placed around.

"This is my faithful companion Mikhail. Mikhail Shorn, High Councillor Lucianus Adair and his date Ambassador Loxa Visl of the Moross Crusade. The Crusade's alliance with the Fringe has brought safety and plenty to both our factions, it is an honour to have you celebrate Life Day with us. I do hope you have been served drink and hors d'oevres."

 

[Judah Lesan]

The king was far from inebriated, though he could have sworn to be. Eyes scanned the room for the face which belonged to the presence he felt. The signature was unmistakeable, though stronger than he remembered. Blue eyes fell upon the man eventually, a beautiful woman on his arm. This did not surprise the Induparan Monarch one bit as he knew [member="Lucianus Adair"] well. The pair had traded blows many times, hunted together, and shared an affinity for good wine.

"Two more glasses," Xander said to the man behind the bar.

The long stemmed glasses were delivered with good speed, and the rich, red, contents of the bottle Xander had proffered poured into the glasses. The wine had actually been good, good enough he would share it, now that he knew another face among the crowd. Both glasses were cradled in his large hand as the his was carried in the other. Determined steps carried the monarch to his target, not caring if he was interrupting anything. It had been near 800 years. Lucianus would likely not mind, and if he did, oh well. Xander Blackmoore was still Xander Blackmoore, king, and seer.

"The wine is what you wish to begin with, perhaps a toast even, to old friends and ancient memories."

 

[Asher]

There was no response. I shifted my attention back to the bar as the Atrisian lord had simply ignored me completely. Maybe I had blown his mind or maybe it had been a mental disconnection on either side. In any case I felt the need to move. Livia was gone as well as Anders and the only one I could really take note of as someone I ‘knew’ was the Mister Yokuni. I waved my hand casually as a goodbye and made way for the other parts of the party. It may have felt just a little bit wrong to cut our introductions short but there would be other times for that, I was sure of it.

To my surprise it would seem people were finally starting to show up. At least there were a lot more people around here than when I checked last. I let my eyes wander around the room once more. Nope, Anders was still the only other person I could relate to around here. The idea of moving closer to them was tempting but at the same time it’s what I had been doing this entire evening. Ah, to hell with it.

Keeping it as subtle as ever I took my time before joining in with the others. There was after all no reason to disturb any potential ‘Higher up talks’ going on, was there? I knew my place in the ladder and to say I was further down than I was used to could definitely be called an understatement. At least I was still alive, right? Right.

“Hey Andy, I…” I raised my finger as if to say something yet it escaped me at last minute. “Wait, I’m not interrupting anything am I?”

[member="Anders Sivas"]​

[member="Mikhail Shorn"]​