Faction Crown Jewels | The Confederacy

[Darth Metus]

N A B O O​

Tag: Darth Elyria

Devotion.

In the beginning, the Sith did not understand the depths of her nature. Due to this ignorance, he looked upon her with confusion and attempted to mold her into the box of his meager understanding. He looked upon her as a threat - as an adversary that needed to be overcome. Yet, as the days turned into months, nuggets of knowledge worked into his mind. He began to look at the actions taken by the Primordial One. Began to examine why someone as monumental as she would not simply deny all the right of existence. The answer? Devotion.

Ah, she would never utter such a word. It would never fill his ears, for she was a creature of well-earned pride. A being of might so mountainous that it dwarfed the culmination of his experience. Thus, she would never lower herself to such a plateau as to admit her motives. Just as the Titan would not divulge its innermost feelings to an ant. Yet, for as meager as his knowledge, Darth Metus began to understand. And there was no greater moment of clarity than Ryloth. Though the world had gone dark following the Chaos Insurrection, their answer to the challenge of the day spoke volumes of her intentions.

Together, they worked to raise the spirits of the long-suffering. They tapped into the eons of anguish which had poisoned the very soil of the world. But, as any who tampered with the Darkness knew, the greater the power, the greater the cost. To perform such an art would require sacrifice - and the willing lamb was the Primordial One. Without hesitation, she allowed herself to be diminished. To be made nearly mortal for the sake of preserving the Sith's ambitions. She saw what the morrow brought - she had seen the culmination of his ambitions. She had seen the man of her present...and was devoted to making that person a reality.

Though she had taken the brunt of the cost, the ritual itself had left the Sith himself diminished as well. The fragility was such that his recovery had prevented him from being present during the defense of Rodia: a crime that he would never again commit. Yet, in the instant of the summoning's completion, Darth Metus took hold of Darth Elyria . The path betwixt worlds was rend open by his will, and to her home did they return. The Abyss which had been such a hated locale for the man was now a refuge. The monstrosities that dared to impede him before now hastened his path.

It all ended with her return to the crystalline refuge. To rest within a sarcophagus made of the purest "glass." As he laid her down to sleep, with his lips upon her brow, the knowledge first took root within his mind. That morsal of understanding - Devotion. From thence, its twin took root within him. She was not his enemy. She was not a calamity to his life. She had more than earned the seed of devotion which now grew within him.

And as she rested, he tarried at her side - only departing when matters of the waking world required his attention. He tarried faithfully and grew accustomed the Primordial that she called home. He tarried and came to understand the ebb and flow of the Deep. He tarried and wrote his name upon the Darkness. Darth Metus claimed his domain within the Dark Side - a terrifying pact between he and the very concept of Dread. And by that pact, he would have the means to sustain her ravenous appetite. He would have the power to repay the Devotion which had been given to him.

So did she feed. So was she sustained.

The time soon came when the glass began to shatter in response to her waking. Cracks. Ripples. A mighty falling away until the Primordial One stood tall. And on that day, she found that she was very much so not alone. Nor would she be, ever more. Shortly thereafter, a return to the waking world was made. The Abyss was left behind in favor of those ambitions she had sacrificed so much to maintain. In the moment, a celebration had been undertaken at the new home of the Viceroyalty. Therefore, it was Darth Metus' duty to attend.

A duty that he welcomed her to share with him.

Never before had he presented his partner to the eyes of the public. In fact, Ryloth was the first time that she had been truly present before any political entities. Yet, as the "First Couple" entered the Gala, it was as natural as breathing. Darth Metus arrived, dressed to kill, with a bright smile upon his features. Waves and nods were given, of course. Brief recognitions in passing as they navigated their way through the growing number of persons. "I challenge you to a duel." He said, the jest in his tone evident as he led them closer to the dance floor.

"I promise, I won't step on your feet."​

 

[Agravain]

L A B Y R I N T H​

T A G : Faegard

The Thirst was Loathsome.

It mattered not how many times the Mistress of the House uttered her assurances. It mattered not how appealing an idea immortality was. The price paid for this so-called "second life" was one Agravain despised. Perhaps it was due to his "birth" being not too far in the past. Perhaps, given time, he would see the advantages of a mighty physical condition and eternity. Yet, in the moment, the price was a rather persistent damper on his mood. Why? For it consisted of constant denial of self...and constant denial of what was.

In terms of denying what was, the Sun itself was a prime example. Though the festivities of the day were occurring at such a time that Agravain had no true need to worry, that was not the case for every happening. There would be times when he was required to brave the venomous rays of the sun - and thus be subject to its torment. Yet, only a smattering of time before, the sun had been taken for granted by the man. He had basked in its warmth on many occasions. Every day of his life, in fact. It was once an essential part of living. Now it could ensure his demise.

And the denial of self played right in hand with this reality.

The mantle that he had adopted - that of a weapons manufacturer - was one that required playing the part. As CEO, he attended meetings, gave direction, and exercised that charisma that had led him to be turned in the first place. Yet, in the realm of professionals, draining one's board of directors was never a smart move. Nor was feasting on an assembly line worker after hours. No, the game was one of balance. Of denying one's appetite until a proper meal could be had. Of behaving in public and indulging in private.

The adjustment period was maddening. Yet, he was fortunately not alone.

On that foul day where the fangs first pierced his flesh, he had been accompanied by another. One to whom he owed a debt and was willing to repay by investigating a distant world. Following the rumors had led them to the palace...and the rest was history. She struggled with the very same appetite. And thus, they kept one another accountable. Especially during festivities such as these with so many...morsals...at play. They had done the smart move and fed before so much as setting foot on Naboo.

Yet, despite being content, the Gala was like walking into a wonderous buffet after a modest lunch. Though satisfied, one could eat. And so, they found their ways away from the majority of patrons. Away from the music. Away from the succulent temptations which paraded themselves in their best attire. The gardens came to be their refuge, in a secluded corner amidst the labyrinth of hedges. A pavillion of stone seated them. And beneath its shade, they found peace. Here, there was even a gentle breeze which brought the quiet echo of music to their ears.

"I'll have to admit...This is...nice."

​

 

[Daegon Corvinus]

WEARING: xxx
TAG: Seraphina Corvinus

Another death, another Queen. Daegon had met the woman once, briefly. She was young and inexperienced in the galaxy, and yet she seemed to command respect. Perhaps Daegon gave her more credit than she deserved, but perhaps that was his wife's nature rubbing off on him. It was not a typical thing that Daegon would give someone so untested the benefit of the doubt, but for the time being, The Demon would play a much different role than he was used to. It did not mean he trusted this new Queen, nor was he quite ready to bind his business to her ideals. For now he would observe, and allow Seraphina to develop her own opinion as well.​

​

Tonight was required of him, of them. The Viceroyalty were hosting the event as much, if not moreso, than the new queen herself. It was rare for the pair to make such public appearances since the tragedy which befell them during the first of the Agent Wars. Their friend Derek Dib was still recovering from his injuries. The scars he carried were much deeper than the surface wound which the bacta had mended. Even Seraphina still bore her blindness, something Daegon knew would make dancing for the evening difficult, but how he wished to she the Southern Systems the grace his Angel displayed. He yearned to be close to her as the music carried them away.​

​

His dark attire with a floral tie was specifically for her. The black was naturally his choice, but the pattern of the tie around his neck was not something he would have ever chosen prior to marriage. It was a touch loud for the Demon. He liked a more simple pallet, almost preferring no pattern at all. The Angel of Thyferra did love her flowers, and even if she could not see it, Daegon would wear them for her.​

​

The apartment they occupied was nothing short of opulent. Naturally Daegon had seen to the furnishings himself, enough to make it feel as though it was home when they could not be. His only regret was Sera could not see what he had accomplished for them. A soft sigh escaped his lips as his thoughts still rest on a solution for her blindness. It was as though she was Thyferra herself. Healing, progressing, but still carrying the weight of war with her.​

​

She was strong, stronger than she knew or would ever admit. Daegon loved her even more for it.​

​

His hands smoothed out the jacket of his suit, giving it a tug at the hem before stepping into the room where Seraphina would be finishing her own preparations. They traveled with her domestic staff now, a personal assistant for the things Sera could no longer see to do herself. Afterall, Daegon was not good at doing ladies' hair.​

​

“You look absolutely resplendent, my dearest love,” the silver tongue of the Viceroy spoke. “There will be no one as beautiful as you in attendance tonight, of this I am certain, nor shall my eye even wander to compare.”​

​

A warm smile washed across the angled features of his face. Perhaps Sera would feel its warmth, though she would certainly feel the kiss he pressed to her forehead as he approached. The Demon would never be slack in his affection for the woman. His displays were more important now than ever before. The Angel of Thyferra had to know The Demon’s love for her could never fade.​

​

“We could dance tonight if you wish to be seen by the larger public, or, if you would prefer, the gardens are open. The flora is said to be nothing short of spectacular, and there is even a maze. It is not like our crystal forest or stone gardens, but I would think you should enjoy it.”​

​

There was much to do, and as long as they were seen to have made the appearance which was required of the Viceroy, Daegon would be pleased. It was important for the Southern Systems to see Thyferra was still strong, and that Daegon and Seraphina had not let the Agents of Chaos crush their spirits. Seraphina had said it best on Olanet. It was time for their self loathing to end. The Agents were to blame, on in particular, and it would be at her feet the blame for everything would come to lay. Until that day, the pair would carry themselves with a dignity and resilience which would remain unrivaled.​

​

Together they would stand tall.​

​

“Come my Seraph. We will decide on the way,” Daegon said offering his arm.​

​

“Together.”​

​

They would always be...​

 

[Alessandra Creed]

Tag: Adron Malvern
Location: Naboo
Objective: Waltz
Wearing: Purple-Duh

__________________________________​

When had she become such a silly romantic?

The scenery of Naboo was always a sight for sore eyes, however, she still couldn’t get used to the fact that it was now the Capital of the Confederacy. She tried not to let it bother her by keeping her fingers twined with that of her husband. His skin felt warm against her own and she cast him a faint smile from behind perfectly painted lips. The Minister of Commerce was known for appearing sassy and severe at all times. Her business acumen was sharper than her eye-liner, but, only by the tiniest of margins. She could still slice a grown man in half with her ledgers if need be.

“I keep waiting for the heatwave…It never shows up.”

Geonosis was a blistering hellsphere tucked in the back end of the Southern Systems. She missed it, dearly. She missed breathing in a warmth so thick that it almost felt like she was walking through liquid. That didn’t mean she didn’t understand why the move happened. With the slow disappearance of the OPA it made very little sense to keep their Central HUB so far away from the Core. If they wanted to keep up with trade and current events—It was the only solution. Provided they still weren’t droning on and on about the ramifications of the Confederacy placing itself before other nations for the last decade.

Her head was still wrapping around that debacle.

Alessandra appreciated how Adron took pains to keep in touch as often as possible. He was an ambitious man. She had known that from the moment he had taken the mantle of the Minister of War. She remembered keeping tabs on him. Reporting to the Vicelord on his progress. Things were not the same then as they were now, not by a longshot, and there were moments when she yearned for that simpler time. Before they had to worry about balancing a nation; and a Kingdom.

When her King asked her to dance she flashed him a smirk that caused dark eyes to flash with approval. “Always, mon loup.”, she agreed, with the affectionate Illyrian nickname slipping from her lips. It loosely translated to “My Wolf” among other things, but, it fit her husband very well. There were sharp teeth behind that perfect smile. His hand came up to brush against her cheek and she leaned into it briefly. They were making the appearance that needed to be made while simultaneously finding a moment to enjoy themselves. It was two birds with one stone. “Aesthetically…I must disagree.”

“I preferred Geonosis. Or Illyria.”, she murmured gently, honestly, while waiting for Adron to pass his cane off to one of their Le Garde Des Rois so that he could take her to the dance floor properly. She was thankful that formal dance had been part of her curriculum on Brentaal IV as a young woman. Adron took to it naturally, as if he had been born to do it, and all she needed to do was follow his lead. The Force that ran betwixt them allowed them seamless movements and grace meant for a much older world than the one they had come to know.

She was quiet while her fingers wrapped around his and her free hand fell to his shoulder. It was a familiar stance. When Adron began to speak a little laugh bubbled up from her throat. “And you want more children? You will need to learn to share, far better, before our next Malvern arrives.”, Alessandra teased her lover, gently, whilst they twirled in perfectly synchronized motions. The waltz was a little different here on Naboo than it was in other systems. An extra turn a change in footing. It wasn’t hard to adapt to but she remained mindful. While she did pull his leg a little, she did understand what he meant. It wasn’t just Aries, though. It was everything. They were, by some miracle of the universe, crowned royals on one planet and ranking officials in a nation that dwarfed most others.

It was a wonder they had any time to breathe at all.

Hearing Castagne she blinked a few times, curious, before nodding her head slowly. She could feel something warm building in her chest. With everything they had gone through she was surprised that he remembered. “That would be perfect. Aries would be safe there.”

The well-being of her son was ever in the forefront of her mind. She loathed leaving him, especially, when they were both off-world. It was painful. Adron would well understand how deep her mothering instincts ran. At first, despite the lack of logic, she’d even thought to protect her child from him. Their child.

“I think the sunshine would do us all a favor.”

 

[Darth Elyria]

Location: Naboo [The Mud-Planet]
Objective: Waltz [Duel the Vicelord. Win.]
Tag: Darth Metus

Endless, Sleep.

The Dark One had slept once. In a world between worlds. In a casket of crystal so dark that it was impossible to see through until it shattered and she rose from the depths. The Vault of Glass had become her tomb, moreover, it was also her kingdom. It was her viewing portal in which she could spy on the waking world. She could see them all—Jealous. Plankton envying the ocean that held them. She was of the primordium. A shaper of things. She trained them, changed them, and infected them from the shadows.

They acted upon her will whether they knew it or not.

Now?

Now—Something felt broken inside. The spirits that she had channeled on Ryloth had torn through her with the force and fury of a hurricane. So incensed were they by the actions of their children did they rage forth to put out the fires that were burning. Her greatness was swept up in their wake until there was nearly nothing left of her. She gave up her power. She was, her power. But she gave it up. For his sake. For his Kingdom. Because her own lofty universe, as it stood, was little more than a tomb of glass and bones. There was nothing left to fight for. She had already won.

Isley Verd placed her back to rest in the darkness. He took her crippled, broken form, and took her back from whence she came. She could feel reality shifting and sliding along her skin like soft silk that burned. As he approached her deadened throne, her casket, her sarcophagus reassembled. Pieces of shining, floating glass, pulled from every corner of the realm to become what she needed. A cocoon of energy that would repair what had been broken.

She would never feel his understanding; nor his kiss to her skin.

Just the dark.

It would take years for her power to restore. To rebuild. Decades. She would sleep in a dreaming coma from which she could not wake nor find peace. It was the price. Payment, for pulling so many spirits from their slumber. It was the burden she carried so that her partner would not have to. Her imprisonment was cut short. When her glass cage began to scream from crystals that ground together and finally unleashed? Her eyes met the teeming dark.

He had done something. Darth Metus , had done something. What?

Too early to tell.

He seemed to hold new confidence, but, time would tell if he would be able to stand against the gale that came with the chains of mortality. Black eyes flickered over his form. She breathed. The air was sweetened and cold while the scent of vanilla and jasmine filled her broken kingdom. “You are here.”, she uttered, though, she knew well that he should not be. The impenetrable, unfathomable forces that wove the Nether would find a way to punish him. Her hair moved of its own accord to help her sit up. It was as if she were some sort of marionette being pulled by strings.

“You should not be.”

But he was.

Some part of her, the pieces still broken, nigh mortal, were glad.

Elyria did not want to be at this event on some mud-class planet with strange, mouth breathing, humans. The only thing that held her vague curiosity were the monsters that swam in the depths of their oceans. She longed to take them. To shape them. To turn them into some new horror. Alas, that was not to be. The pallid creature wore clothing that had been presented to her as a tribute. Dark fabric fell from her every curve, the intent made soft, by the flowery pattern woven into it.

Terrible.

She walked into the festivities on the arm of the Vicelord as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The shadows seemed to wave, move, and bend toward her. As if they missed her presence. Every movement she made gave the illusion of ancient power and cruel poise. None would know, save the man at her side, that she was still unfinished. His machinations had awoken her early, again, but nothing in the universe would repair her fully but time. It was the price to be paid.

“I possess so much grace, more grace than this pitiful world can hope to endure. I was the immaculate embodiment of rule. Now…Now I am like unto your acolytes.”

Diminished.​

A God-Queen of the Nether. A piece of darkness, a shadow. Now? She was less. So very, very much less.

“If we are to duel, Vicelord, I will win.”, she responded with full confidence, when in truth, she was uncertain if that was the case. She could taste his power. It had grown while her own had been severely compromised. Shattered, at the core. Who would win now? Elyria was uncertain. At his promise not to step on her feet she shot him a dark look, complete with narrowed eyes, that promised sweet hell if he did. “You may lead, for now.”

 

[Faegard]

L A B Y R I N T H​

T A G: Agravain

Perhaps what had been the biggest surprise to me, had been the guilt.


The thirst was something I'd exepcted. The feeling of... freedom, the divine sensation of total and complete release from the mortal coil... that had been an unexpected pleasure, but nevertheless something I'd more or less been prepared for. The guilt, however, that had been totally unaccounted for. And it wasn't the guilt of what I had to take to slake my thirst, no; that was a bridge I was yet to cross. No, my sin was less forgivable. I felt guilt... because I didn't hate my existence.

I knew how it went. I was supposed to loathe this "curse". I was supposed to lament the loss of my mortality, to miss the sun, to yearn for my past. Sure, the embrace itself had been traumatic and agonizing, but isn't all birth? No. Even if one of the ancient Masters stood before me now and offered me the cure to my condition... I would turn them down. And it was that truth that burned in my core like fire.

Perhaps somewhat thankfully, then, the thirst was a distraction from my own thoughts; something for my troubled mind to focus on, a puzzle. How could I make it through an entire gala with that terrible beast gnawing away at my insides, its prey meandering mere feet from me in blissful ignorance? Agravain was my angel in this regard. Somehow it made the suffering easier knowing I wasn't alone in it. There was more guilt there with him, knowing that it was ultimately my fault that he now shared this curse with me, it was my sister that had... anyway.

To my relief, he led me out to the gardens, a secluded little oasis of solitude. I sighed with content as the cool breeze rolled across my skin, allowing myself to lean my head upon my companion's shoulder for a moment.

"It is," I replied, "I suppose it was a good idea, after all."

Idly my fingertips trailed up Agravain's forearm. It wasn't that we were necessarily overly close - or that we weren't - rather, sensation was... different now. Some senses were dulled, others were heightened. Caught in the twilight between both, I found myself with wandering fingers, eyes, ears, exploring everything as though for the first time once more.

"Do you think it will get easier?," my question lingered in the cool air, leaving it up to him to decide if I meant the hunger, the feeding, or something else entirely, "Do you think we deserved it?"​

 

[Diavona Vammor]

​

Location: The Sidelines
Attire: [xXx]
Tags: | Vytal Noctura | Kat Decoria | Open |

-------------------

She had just taken a fresh sip of the bubbly concoction from the flute in her hand when the overhead changed. Diavona's brow creased, glass still poised near her lips which had now turned down ever so slightly into a frown. Had they arranged for such a spectacle this eve? Honestly Dia couldn't seem to recall, and usually all these sorts of large displays were run by others, and she would of course hear of them through word of mouth. And as far as she could recall? Nothing.

And yet a voice drew her so easily from this reverie of thought, and the blonde's gaze settled easily upon the source of this grand display above. Instantly it made sense, and Diavona's face smoothed back into its pleasant expression. "The Nightmother of the Solanaceae graces us with her presence." it was by no means an insult, or fancy attempt at flattery. Stories, information, and whispered dealings were Dia's specialty after all, and the Lady of Whispers has most certainly heard stories about the Witches. "This is your doing then," she made a vague gesture towards the now visible night sky and took a second sip from her glass. It was lowered away from her face entirely before she spoke again. "Magics are indeed impressive..."

But! She had been asked a question, and as such Dia's gaze shifted out to the dance floor instead. "Its merely been warming up thus far," she answered, seeming amused now. "People bumbling about, attempting to find someone to stick with for the evening, or perhaps go home with after." A light smirk lift one corner of her mouth. Though before more could be said on the matter, she and the Nightmother were no longer alone - not that they were alone to behind with, but another had added to their conversation.

"Kat?" Dia clarified; she only ever needed a name repeated to her once. "I'm Diavona," she didn't use her title unless she was pissed off or negotiating, and she was neither of those things right now. "I should be asking how you are enjoying the gala - both of you, for that matter." After all, she was a Councillor of Naboo, and these were guests. She wanted everyone to enjoy the night of course, and honestly hadn't considered checking in with how anyone else was enjoying themselves until that moment.

 

[Yusha]

T H E E D​

Tag: Brina Helvig, Lyra Vent

The Heart of Naboo was ripe for the taking.

One would think that the new center of a Galactic superpower would be somewhere a larcenist avoided. After all, following the demise of the former monarch, efforts to keep the peace were at an all time high. Between native agencies loyal to the crown and the nation's own Knighthood, all manner of criminal were looking to get off Naboo as quickly as possible. Yet, for the one called Yusha, Naboo was a challenge. It was that succulent gem locked behind towering gates and security lasers. It was that priceless mark that every thief craved to possess.

And thus, Yusha began to prowl.

His loose affiliation with the Knighthood came with some drawbacks and some advantages. When it came to pitfalls, he was expected to make appearances like a day job. Report when things hit the ceiling, keep the peace, that sort of thing. Yet, the Knighthood also afforded him freedom of movement. He could be anywhere in the Southern Systems, with a rough idea of which areas were being patrolled the most. Fortunately enough, there were some corners of even Theed that had a divine lack of Obsidian supervision.

He wouldn't be pulling off any grand jewel heists today - but a few loose pockets would do.

The locale was quiet as the man strode about. Above, twinkling stars heralded the early evening. One could even hear the gentle flow of rushing water as the city's river swept by. Theed was stunning - and this quiet corner of town was home to several modest establishments. A bed and breakfast here. A trinket shop there. It was the perfect locale for those wishing to get away from the hustle and bustle of the festivities happening near the Palace. And in short order, the Thief found his first victim.

The man staggered along the alleyway, clearly intoxicated. And thus, Yusha simply moved quickly and quietly. He bumped past - a practiced motion invaded the man's pocket and swiped a telling bundle of leather - before he muttered a half-hearted 'scuse me. He waited until the man had made his way out of the alley and into the street to inspect the goods. T'ch. Nothing of note. Couple credits, a photo of a grandchild possibly? He swiped the credits and tapped the wallet upon the flat of his palm.

Pickings were slim away from the Palace - he'd have to get risky if he wanted any decent coin tonight. As he mulled over the choice, he began to stride out of the alleyway - only to be met with the sight of a familiar face. He knew her from a previous, Obsidian venture - and thus a cautionary chill ran down his spine. She couldn't have seen him in the act, he was far too good to notice. Hell, she was conversing with...what looked to be an excessively pretty friend. But, just in case, he bent over and played the part of picking up the wallet to begin with. Shaking his head, he made his way over.

"Brina!" he said, beaming. "It's been awhile. How are you?" The pleasantries were uttered with such a genuine tone that one might have mistaken them as earnest.

"And who is your lovely friend?"​

 

[Vemric Keldra]

TAG: Stardust Solus Skirae | Hard Luck Frank | Open​

As he scanned the room, Stardust chuckled and teased a "maybe" before saying that you never knew who may be listening. He lifted an eyebrow as he looked at her, his thoughts drifting directly to Diavona Vammor. She had a point.
"Indeed. And I'd be greatly disappointed if you did not have a weapon on you. It would bring shame to your title." he said aloofly. The Captain of the Queensguard may have guarding under control, but guards are very conspicuous. And, once again, you can't take the military out of the officer. It was innate for Vemric to keep his eye out for trouble. It was one of the reasons he was such an excellent Navy man. That, and he could control every aspect of his ship and fleet. The poor souls.

Stardust countered his initial question with one of her own acutely observed ones. The corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly. She was observant, he had to hand it to her.
"Fleet Marshal. Capital Sector Armada." he answered simply, looking back at the dancefloor. Watching the people dance, made his heart ache slightly. Even as a servicewoman herself, Maja always enjoyed to-dos like this. He should really try and get back into it. For her sake.

He had just opened his mouth to reluctantly ask Stardust for a dance, when his eye caught a large man harassing one of the servers. Vemric's brow furrowed slightly.
"Over there." he said, motioning with his chin. "Looks like trouble." he stated. He turned and purposefully and made his way over to the argument, his moonlight robe billowing behind him and hoping Stardust would join him in correcting this little imperfection. He reached the duo just as the big man was turning away from the server. His skyblue eyes flashed as he approached, annoyed at the disturbance disrupting the perfection of the night.
"What seems to be the problem, gentlemen?" he asked sternly, his figure screaming authority as he looked at both the server and the man who was examining his shoe.

 

[Stardust Solus Skirae]

hahaha, even if i wasn't armed i myself am a weapon~ after all im not the emerald dragon for using blasters now am I?

She chuckled again as she followed his gaze out among the crowd, so many things could go wrong within a second, with the death of the former queen so fresh stardust was on alert as no doubt the security detail was, yet it didn't matter in her eyes they could slip up at any time and let danger through

Glancing back to her fellow councilor she caught the twitch of his lips and grinned herself, she knew that would bring something of a smile to that face, turning to face she she spoke again

no kidding? Well seems like I was most definitely correct

He went to speak again, yet he stopped brow furrowing as he if had seen something. With a nod of his chin stardust looked that way and saw the issue as she grew serious and without a second started following right beside him as she looked to her arm and subtly opened the ammo port to check it then looked forward as they arrived. Her eyes scanned about to check see if this was some sort of distraction run against security while keeping mind of where this disturbance was standing and his movement

 

[Eenia Vahn]

Location: The Gardens
Attire: [xXx]
Tags: | Open |

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How long had it been since she had just stepped back, taken a breather, and enjoyed the sights? In all honesty, Eenia couldn't even remember. She was well aware that the last event she had gone to was when she was still with the Silver Jedi, and it had been for Life Day. Not something she looked back on with fondness for any number of reasons - reasons she didn't plan to dwell on or really think about. She had left to start anew after all, and the Confederacy had been the perfect place to do as such.

She was in training again, she was settled in a place of her own - small, but her own - and she wasn't constantly seeking validation or redemption anymore. To Nia, that was progress.

Progress that she had felt good enough about to go ahead and attend this fancy (not so) little party being thrown. A celebration of the new crown, and that was something Eenia could get behind. Sure, she hadn't really known much about the old Queen, nor anything about this new one, but change could be a good thing no matter where - or what tragedy it stemmed from. Nia herself was a testament of that fact. Everything she had gone through, everything she had endured, and yet here she was. Stronger than ever, and in a much better place mentally and physically.

So, a celebratory party seemed in order.

Nia had arrived dressed for the event, and yet eventually found the chamber full of dancers and onlookers too crowded. She had found herself a glass of something to drink, thanked the staff who had offered it to her, and then made her way outside and into the fresh air. She breathed deep, slowly both in and out and just let herself calm. There was no lurking danger, no dark thoughts threatening to consume her, just the night air and the lull of music behind her. The gardens were certainly a place she could appreciate, and as she strolled casually along her current path she sipped idly at the drink in her hand.

She hadn't wandered too far away from the nearest doors the led back inside, but for the moment she was certainly lost in the appeal of the combination of stone and life around her. Perhaps she needed a plant back in her flat...something that would bud and produce pretty flowers - if it survived that long. Nia had never practiced a green thumb before, after all. Of course, that was just idle thought as she meandered along and enjoyed her break from the gathered crowds inside.

 

[Hard Luck Frank]

You ever wonder why they called it putting on airs? It was because like air that one person could feel like theirs was different than anyone else's but all that importance was all in their head. Me, I knew my level of importance hovered somewhere between garbage man and a punch in the face. Needed in some situations but no one really wanted them around. This guy, he definitely thought he hovered up there with breathing. In my experience, that meant he must have been a somebody to these rich folks.

I looked back over my shoulder as the drink guy turned and offered a bow.

"No problem, Sir." The drink guy said as he balanced his tray while bowing. You had to appreciate a guy good at his job...even if he was a jerk.

I pointed at drink guy while I scanned for any indication of a kitchen.

"What he said." I said simply and started looking for those golden doors to food land.


Stardust Solus Skirae
Vemric Keldra

 

[Amelia von Sorenn]

Waiting in the Wings
Attire
Open
​

​

The times in which she wore something as she was now draped in were few and far between, as the woman would often prefer something more practical in terms of attire - at the moment bemoaning the fact that she had foregone her usual appearance of keeping herself hidden beneath armor and a helm. However; in this instance, for this moment, she'd make the conscious decision to make herself appear more presentable, as it were, considering the festivities and the nature of the event in question. Though, that would still not mean that she was enjoying herself nor that she truly desired to be there - save for the simple fact that as one with a number of titles and positions - counting among them being a member of HIGHCOM, though her position as the Grand Marshal of NAVCOM, as well as the Inperantike of the Hellknight Corps - she felt that there were a number of other duties she could be performing beyond making an appearance.​

​

Still, she supposed, that in the long run it would be best in some manner of speaking that she was there - albeit seemingly begrudgingly. For the moment she had found herself a rather cozy place tucked away in the corner, finding as much shade and shadow to wrap around herself away from the more brightly lit areas and away from any kind of direct or indirect sunlight as best she could manage. From her tucked away perch, golden-hues slowly slipped over the gathered masses that had come to dance and drink the night away at the behest of those that more or less ensured the continued workings of the Confederacy. Of course she had to bemuse the fact that just a short year-and-a-half ago, she had been the number one wanted individual among the Confederacy; though she still wasn't entirely sure that the bounty itself was ever lifted - perhaps some day she might find some bounty hunter waiting for her in her office... if she ever spent any real time there. The last time she had was before the capital had moved from Geonosis, and even then, when she had finally finished the paperwork that had piled up, it seemed that her aides had found more that had slipped through the cracks. She was rather positive that where ever the new NAVCOM offices were, that her's was already buried in paperwork that had likely been collecting dust in her absence.​

​

Shaking the thoughts away of the small wandering that her mind had taken, her attention was dragged back to the here and now for the moment - her thoughts however always had other plans and ways of worming their way back to the forefront despite her best efforts to push them away. There were a number of dealings she would need to oversee at some point, between the reestablished Von Sorenn Industries that had taken over much of the previous Sorenn-Syrush Industries' holdings, the new efforts on Ryloth in the wake of the terrorist attack that the Hellknights were taking upon their shoulders, and even her youngest daughter being named the Viceroy of Vandalheim, there was a great many thoughts on her mind. Still, she could allow herself a moments rest couldn't she?​

​

Then again, the past always seemed to also find its way back, and in such matters she found herself thinking fondly of old flames and interests - even going so far as to wonder how Fiore and Mira were doing, hoping that the two were happy where ever it was that they had found themselves. Perhaps this was a turning point for her, a woman so mired in war and conflict - and with a life as long lived as hers, it was difficult to not think on old friends, friends like NPC Treasury and Jairdain - those that she had been close with at one point, though they seemed so far away now as she stood in the hallowed halls of the Viceroyalty on Naboo. A soft sigh would slip from her lips as she brought the crystalline glass up, taking a slow sip of the sanguine liquid within before bringing it back down to cradle carefully in her hands.​

​

Perhaps she should mingle some - after all - it was likely that very few in the Confederacy even knew of the woman beyond her rank and the myriad of conflicts she'd been at the forefront of in the Confederacy. Eshan, Ryloth, Rodia, and countless other little skirmishes and conflicts that had arisen during her time with the Confederacy - though the rumor of an apparent drinking contest among members of NAVCOM had come to her attention, she'd brushed it off, deciding to allow them their fun for the evening, provided that she didn't get a report in the morning of some NAVCOM officer having raided the Queen's chambers - they could have the time to relax and libate.​

​

For now she would remain tucked away in her little corner, just listening and watching, occasionally taking a sip of her drink while others went about their own business and enjoyed the celebration of the Confederacy.​

​

 

[Vytal Noctura]

D A N C E . B E N E A T H
T H E . H E A V E N S
Attire: Queen Witch of Crows
​

"They say The Force binds everything together," the Nightmother responded calmly to Diavona. "The Solanaceae devote themselves into understanding how." Allowing light to pass through solid matter -- especially a relatively static visage such as the night sky -- was not any less possible than a Jedi or Sith crushing something with a gesture. Such an ability, however, was not terribly useful in combat or during negotiations, so few reached out and embrace the great depth of the energy around them. It was the ease with which they all could be distracted that prevented them from plunging into the depths of the Force (magick). A battle which the Nightmother contended with regularly for the sake of her Sisters and Brothers.​

​

Her companion wasn't terribly smitten with those on the dance floor so far. Perhaps Vytal should be happy she'd not arrived too fashionably late. Whether anything would come of arriving at all... Well, at least the Nightmother would be there to represent the Sisters and Brothers with those noses in tomes despite her trying to pry them away now and then.​

​

Green eyes slid aside as Kat drew near. A trio of pale women standing about. Vytal found it interesting regarding the Echani women -- with the right tattoos they might almost appear like Nightsisters. A smile curled the Witch's black lips upward as the two introduced one another.​

​

"Hello, Kat." It would be nice to say she remembered everyone, but there were so many people in the galaxy. Most Sisters and Brothers she knew by face and name, ranking members of the Confederacy (naturally), and then it seemed the Echani were one of those easier to remember. Perhaps because they reminded a Nightsister of home.​

​

"Call me Vytal," perhaps said more for Diavona's benefit if Kat recalled it. "It may be a formal Ball, but Sisters need not be so formal. We are here to enjoy one another's company after all. Something easier to do in the company of stunning and intelligent women like yourselves. Perhaps the three of us can even find time to indulge in the frivolous festivities." To dance together, help one another find a partner, or simply watch as the others danced... To do more than look on at nameless, faceless people. It was nice to be connected to others even a little at such events.​

​

Tag: Diavona Vammor | Kat Decoria​

Template By: Darth Metus (Guy)​

 

[John Locke]

​

Location: Naboo | Theed | Viceroyalty Hall
Wearing: Tuxedo, this is John after all
Tagging: Gianna Aegis

​

This wasn’t the first time John had visited the new halls of the Viceroyalty, he even had an office here, tucked away from the main debating hall. The Exarch had been intimately involved with the relocation of the capital of the Confederacy away from Geonosis to Naboo. This was just the first time he’d seen the halls so filled with life and laughter. It was the first time since the move that it had been more than business as usual, that it seemed like they would be ok. That they would be more than ok, Naboo had welcomed the Confederacy as it has once welcomed him, his adopted home opening its arms to one and all.

When he’d thought about a world to establish his head offices on, to settle down on John had always envisioned himself on some industrial world. Corellia, Kuat, Geonosis or Coruscant, one of the commercial jewels of the galaxy, it was where businesses tended to congregate and he’d established offices there.

It was just…too busy.

It was something he’d realised the moment he set foot on this planet, had smelled the greenery and encountered the warmth of the people, a planet like that could never be home. The truth was that John wasn’t a social butterfly, wasn’t entirely comfortable in the social scene that was expected of a major commercial hub. He was more comfortable working in his workshop or spending the night reading or watching a holofilm on the couch instead of attending one of the countless parties that someone in his position was expected to attend. He could fake it with the best of them if he had to, his mask almost impenetrable, but he could never make himself comfortable. The demands of his office, of his business, would draw him out of his workshop again and again drawing him away from the quiet of his workshop, of his apartment to make his presence known. It was how business worked, it was how the galaxy worked.

Yet life on Naboo seemed to flow at a slower pace. While business got done people got to know their neighbours, their communities. It reminded him of home, the slum of coronet city where he’d grown up. You only had to step outside to be greeted by your friends, your neighbours, your community. It was something he hadn’t realised he’d missed till he arrived here, till he’d experienced it again. Not just in the city but in all the smaller towns and villages he’d visited, the people actually cared.

The dark-haired man leaned forward, resting his arms on the stone balustrade of the veranda, staring down at the drink in his hand, twirling it thoughtfully as he stared out over the dimly lit grounds and the bright lights of the city beyond. He could hear the sounds of the party behind him, the music spilling out through the open doors, the sound of dancing and laughter just a few steps away.

He knew he should turn, should join the party and mingle, tonight was a celebration after all but he couldn’t help but let his mind be drawn back to another party all those months ago. The memory of dancing, of feeling alright with the world, of almost floating on the clouds. Red hair and a brilliant smile, the kind that could brighten even the darkest of days and melt the coldest of hearts. That had wormed his way into his. The party that had left him broken, shattered, living little more than a half-life. It’d hadn’t really been living, it had been existing, like a part of him had been torn away.

Even after his memories had been returned to him it hadn’t fixed that hole, not really. It was like he was still missing something, someone. A ghost on the edge of his consciousness, a voice on the wind. A part of himself.

No, it wasn’t someone, it was her.

Gianna Aegis.

The red-haired Jedi Knight had become important to him, had become so close to him that she was like a part of him without the man realising. He hadn’t realised how much she meant to him till that day, till he’d lost her.

John swirled the whiskey in his hand, watching the waves he’d cause washing over the once smooth surface of the liquid. That was how he felt, buffeted by waves, the once smooth, happy surface of his life lost. He understood her thoughts, her reaction…but it didn’t help. Not really. It still felt like there was a part of him that had been ripped away.

He’d find himself seeing something when he was walking through the city, a sight, a memory, and he’d turn half expecting her to be there next to him. His hand reaching for his communicator. He’d caught himself before calling her so many times to share that memory, to share his day. The words on his lips, the longing in his heart. They were friends, he’d tried so hard to be happy with that, but…but he missed it. Missed that connection. Just friends wasn’t the same. He missed the quiet nights spent together talking, he missed the Jedi walking into his lab to pull him away and make sure he was ok. He missed seeing her smile, to hear her laugh and knowing that he was the cause of it.

He should walk into the party, he should mingle with the crowd and show his face. And he would. But not now, not yet.

Lost in his thoughts the sound of the party had faded away for a moment leaving John alone in the lights of the veranda. Dark eyes looked up at the bright moon shining overhead. He knew she was somewhere on the planet, maybe even looking up at the moon too.

A sad smile touched the man’s lips as he raised his tumbler, silently saluting the moon, saluting the woman.

“I miss you.”

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: xxx
TAG: Lunara Azure | Open

Naboo. It had once been the home of Naedira Darcrath . There was part of Gerwald that resented the fact the capitol had been moved to the planet, and yet he was also grateful for the opportunity to see the countryside of the one person he cared for the most. His only regret was that she was no longer alive to give him a proper tour. Their relationship had always been interesting. What began as a simple battle meld had developed into something which Gerwald would never be able to properly explain. One thing had been certain. Naedira had been the first friend in his life, the first person, who loved him for who he was without expecting anything in return. Whether that love was the same feeling he felt for the woman was an unanswered mystery, but she had accepted him for him nonetheless. Naedirea had not wanted him to be a king, a ruler by her side, or even better kind of brother. She simply wanted him to be Gerwald.​

​

A smile pulled at his lips thinking about the freedom which he had discovered with such a thing. Whether it had been her intention or not, a whole new world had been opened to Gerwald, one which he no longer cared what others demanded of him. This had not meant he did not have certain expectations for himself. It pained Gerwald to know he had been the cause of death to some, or had driven others away. It had only been recently he found a way to turn his pain and the feelings which he carried into a weapon others could not exploit. If only it had been a lesson he had been forced to learn the hard way. His own stubborn nature had seen to the torture he endured at the hands of the Mountain, Darth Prazutis. Even now when Naedira's ghost appeared, Gerwald had to remind himself it was not some twisted manipulation.​

​

The ring she was bound to was still with him, and it would be until she were free. Tonight it rest under his shirt, a white button down which was open at the collar. Just because this was a black tie formal did not mean Gerwald was going to be forced into some hangman's noose which would only choke the life out of him. He hated ties. The suit was a bright blue, almost a suede material. It was not often Gerwald wore something so formal, but tonight was a rare evening. It was not often the halls of the Viceroyalty were open for such an occasion, and even more rare Gerwald did not have to oversee the security for it.​

​

Tonight he would do his best to enjoy the party. Naedira would have encouraged him to do so, as would his sister, or others no longer part of the man's life. Still he held back, not daring to approach anyone. It was not that he did not want to, no, Gerwald had always been a creature in the background. It was rare he approached anyone. Perhaps that was part of his nature he should change as well, but he was content. The evening air was cool, and the scent of autumn was on the breeze. As Gerwald stood outside among the gardens he had a sudden realization.​

​

For the first time in a long time, Gerwald Lechner was at peace.​

​

A waiter came by with champagne on a tray. The lupine hated the stuff, but took a glass anyway. Until he could find the open bar the golden liquid would have to suffice. It was likely better than whatever excuse for mead the Confederacy would peddle at such an event. A quick sip of the liquid saw him waiving the waiter back... no... that had been a mistake. Gerwald needed something stiffer, and not as bubbly.​

​

He needed to find the bar.​

 

[Kiff Brayde]

D A N C E

Tag: Cazo Thraos | Amelia von Sorenn
Wearing: x

Kiff had three specialties, three strengths; starship command, gambling, and drinking, in that order. Given that parties usually consisted of two of those elements, if not three -- and they sometimes had included all three -- Kiff was a veritable master of parties. He was also a master of miraculously not getting fired, a feat that was not pulled off by many others. Perhaps it was charisma, perhaps it was the compensation of his record, or perhaps it was Kiff's darn good luck, but he was able to party without fear of any reprimand.

A glass in hand, the High Marshal deftly navigated the ballroom dance floor, his new Naval Command uniform sitting fresh and sharp on Kiff's smaller frame. Dancers weaved around him in pairs, swaying and spinning to the music that the band played, but despite the apparent chaotic movement in the room, Kiff swerved through the dancers. He was light on his feet and didn't spill a single drop of the Merenzane Gold in his glass as he moved. The wine wasn't his first choice, but he figured that if he was going to be here all night -- and the tabs were on the Confederacy -- he'd do good to diversify a bit.

As he made his way across the floor, his eye spied a woman dressed in a simple, clean dress, and her face rang a small bell in Kiff's mind. She was someone that Kiff knew. . . then he remembered. She was the Hapan that Kiff had noticed at one of the naval graduations he'd been asked to step in and preside, and the commandant had been particularly excitable about the fresh officer. Typical in his fashion, Kiff had dismissed the praise; they were empty words without action, in his book. Yet, here she now stood, and if Kiff remembered, she was now a Commander -- not a position to be taken lightly.

Kiff made his way over to here, giving a small, polite bow. "Commander Thraos. What's an officer like you doing in a place like this?"
​

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[Fauvel Astier]

Waltz

Wearing: XxX.
Tagging: Abel Denko

The Lady of House Astier could not pride herself in knowing much of the galaxy. The reality that all Illyrians knew had been expanded beyond measure upon the arrival of the monarchs, Adron and Alessandra Malvern. The dreams of far away places had suddenly consolidated into being, and were now well within reach.

This was one of the very first times that the Young Lady abandoned her home-world, and she had a feeling it would not be the last. So, doing as her cautious and meticulous nature bid her to do, she had taken to studying the many cultures and places of note that awaited beyond the stars. Naboo, the new capital of the Confederacy which all Illyrians adhered to, had been one of the first to receive her attention. It was a beautiful planet, and so was the building she stood within.

Upon her arrival, shadowed by her two sisters Sanne and Sennet, she had paid the proper respects to the monarchs that were present in the hall before excusing herself and allowing them to enjoy the night on their own. It was safe to assume she was not a very welcomed sight, given the current circumstances of her noble house, and thus she limited herself to that which protocol and her allegiance demanded. Perhaps here the dark story of her family would not be as well-known as it was in Illyria, then again nothing would truly change one way or the other.

Yet tonight was supposed to be a night of celebration, and so the Lady did not allow it to be soured with the dark thoughts of her past, or her present. Illyria was growing, and the CIS was held in the highest of esteems. So, it was her responsibility as well as her pleasure to make herself present and join in on the festivities that commemorated the new capital and the royal house which had made it possible. Hopefully the foreign systems would show her more kindness than her own planet, although the young Lady was not particularly well known for her hopefulness.

Sanne and Sennet were now several meters away, conversing between themselves as they kept a watchful eye on their younger sibling and liege from a distance. For the time being the lady of the House stood at the sidelines, a drink in her hand and a small, well-practiced smile on her lips. Her tourmaline gaze did its own waltz around the dancing couples and her surroundings, met with new faces and magnificent decorations. Fauvel was not acquainted with most of the guests, that much was to be expected. However, she did not see this as an inconvenience.

After all, what were balls for if not to meet people?

 

[Lunara Azure]

Location: Naboo | Theed | Viceroy Hall Gardens
Wearing: Fabulousness
Tagging: Gerwald Lechner | Open

​

She’d always loved gardens.

When she was younger Lunara’s family couldn’t afford any kind of garden, not really. There had been a little green patch with an apple tree growing in it that their apartment block had shared. It had been a haven for all the children of the apartment, a place to gather and play games while their parents were busy preparing dinner or doing any of those myriad of tasks that grownups did which children just found boring. To them it had been a castle, a cantina, a battlefield and an asteroid field; imagination had been a tool that transformed that little patch of dirt into anything they’d wanted. To them it had been the greatest thing imaginable, a little bit of freedom in their own backyard.

Imagine then what she thought when she was taken away from that apartment block by the church, introduced to the wider world. A world full of greenery and nature that put that little apple tree to shame.

Lunara had visited palaces and temples, she’d seen wonders that she never even considered existed when she was younger. Even the gardens here at the Viceroyalty chambers on Theed were such a far cry from the patch of dirt she grew up with. Yet, in all the planets she’d visited, she’d never found anywhere that had more love than that lone apple tree growing out of the dirt. She wasn’t sure she ever would.

Lunara could still hear the sound of the party back in the hall, the muted sounds of the music drifting down to the gardens, a gentle whisper that just added to the ambience of the environment. She knew there was dancing, the warm press of bodies and conversation back in the Viceroy hall, that that’s where the great and mighty of the Confederacy were to be found. And she supposed she could show her face there…but she didn’t need to. For perhaps the first time that she could remember Lunara had no duties, no tasks ahead of her. There was nothing expected of her except to be present and enjoy herself.

A task she’d decided to take very seriously.

The elfin woman had made a trip to the bar, absconding with two bottles of wine before any of the bartenders had been any the wiser. A trip to the buffet had put the final touches on the picnic spread out before here.

She could go up and join in the party…but she didn’t want to.

Right now all she craved was the tranquillity of the gardens and the memory of children swinging and playing around an old apple tree. If she closed her eyes, she could almost see them, hear the excited shouts and cries echoing out.

It happened without conscious thought, a form of longing perhaps, a memory of innocence that she still cherished, even after she’d burned down her homeworld. A little touch, her mind reaching out to the light that suffused the secluded corner of the garden she’d claimed. An unnatural stillness that seemed to settle as even the wind itself seemed to still and die. The woman didn’t even open her eyes, just lifted one hand as a globe of water rose from a nearby fountain winged its way towards her, shifting and twisting in the air.

When she was done a crystalline tree occupied pride of place, the ice catching the light in a coruscating display of rainbows. By the morning it would have melted, be reduced back to a memory, but for tonight, the children swung from the tree again.

A delicate hand reached down for an alive, popping in into her mouth as Lunara stared at the tree, a soft smile on her face. For now, in this moment the universe was still and she was content.

Well almost, the light warned her before he padded into view, there was no denying the wolf within Gerwald Lechner , even dressed up in a suit with a drink in hand, but he was a friend and on a night like this it would be nice to have someone to talk to.

“If you promise not to eat them all, I’ve…discovered a hidden cache of goodies here to go with that.”

 

[Rience]

W A L T Z​

T A G : Cordelia Malkavian

What was normal?

When the Knight closed his eyes, it was as if the years had not passed. The air of her perfume was the same. The light grip upon his arm as they walked was the same. The fact that they arrived together was the same. Yet, when Rience eased his eyes open, the present made itself very clear. Some form of restoration had come to the pair - yet there were still so many years to account for. So much time lost. And, most importantly, a piece of their world was yet missing. For now - for just one night - they would have the chance to act normal.

It was a long time coming.

By the time Rience and Cordelia made their appearance at the Gala, there was already a healthy sum of patrons about. At a glance, he recognized some of the faces present - fellow Knights here, a few Viceroys there. He imagined that, judging by the gilded outfits of a handful, that there was plenty of Naboo nobility about as well. Fortunately, he was off the clock and seeing to their wellbeing was not remotely in his job description. All that mattered was having a good time for a change.

He reached out, claiming a pair of flutes as an attendant droid waltzed past. The one in his dominant hand was offered to the radiant partner on his arm. "Do you still love champagne?" he asked, beaming. A swig from his own flute was taken before he led them further inside. "What're you in the mood for? Dancing?" Though the man considered himself to have two left feet, he wouldn't deny her whatever she desired. If nothing else, they'd get a few choice laughs out of his stumbling about.

Just like old times.

Just like normal.

​