Faction Day of Landing || Ascendancy

[Ascendant Muse]

Chapter I: The Sun Rises​

DAY OF LANDING
Regnum City, Verun

The Sun had just reached the horizon.

Seven long years ago, a remnant had been greeted by the very same sight. As refugees and warriors alike flocked to the surface, the heavens above were a tampestry of vibrant colors. In but a short span of time, the light would set, and with it the brutal heat of the day. Seven years ago, the remnant took this display as a sign of good things to come. For seemingly, the Sun was setting on their sorry. In truth, the work was just beginning.

Beset, they were, by the monstrous fauna of the new world. Their meager walls were scorched by native raids. Their stomachs hungered - for the earth was unforgiving. Yet, the remnant endured. They bared their teeth against the elements, against their foes, against even traitors who sprang up from their midst. For their Dominus led the way forward - survival was the only option.

Now, seven years later, the Sun began to set once more. The heavens were splashed with rich magnenta and bright gold; and all smiled down on those below. They were a remnant no longer, for they had ascended past the threats of the new world. They had carved out a new kingdom for themselves: The Ascendancy. No longer did they cower behind meager walls. Instead, they spread their will across their newfound home.

Now, so long after their humble beginning, they could look to the skies with a smile. They could recall the Day of Landing with fondness and cheer. And as the chill of night swept over Regnum, the city came alive. Tonight, unlike any other, they had reason to cheer. For they had survived. They would remember. And they would continue to ascend.

Spoiler: Points of Interest

The Day of Landing is one of the Ascendancy's most important holidays. It is a time to remember the struggles of settling on Verun; but also a reason to celebrate. For one night only, the bustling city will be flooded with wonder - how will you spend the evening?

Typically closed to the public, the Palace Grounds have been opened for the holiday. Upon stepping past the outermost wall, visitors will be graced with a serene courtyard. A far cry from their desert surroundings, the courtyard is filled with greenery, marble statues, and fountains. Visitors are free to get lost here to their hearts' content!​

Typically, the sounds of The Hub's night scene seldom reach other districts. But on the Day of Landing, one can hear the music from outside the walls! Several bars and clubs have banded together to take the party to the streets! For one day only, experience the night life along Regnum's main avenue. Drink, dance, and shout the night away!​

The City of Regnum is alive tonight, with more than just music and gardens. Fireweorks dot the sky. Shopkeepers peddle their odds and ends about. The walls even provide the best view of the city. The Day of Landing is truly yours to explore - make it a memorable evening!​

Spoiler: Tag List

Aliza Vale
Amelia von Sorenn
Dreidi Xeraic
Valeria de la Vallée
Teyla Sal-Soren
Allyson Locke
Draconis Sederius Wolf
Kristyl Vaashe
Kyyrk
Rann Thress
Diana Sophistica
Kurenai Yumi
Talohn Atar
John Locke
Srina Talon
Taiia Locke
Felix Aquila
Gerwald Lechner
Svana Neoma
Vanya Aklin
Luna Evanstance
Vyse de Valorous
Oleander Webb
Finnea Virlee
Matthew Locke
Christina Locke

 

[Korvis Laerann]

​

Location: Southern Regnum, Verun

Wearing: Navy blue short sleeve shirt with white long sleeve undershirt and black trousers

Tag: Open​

Neither the dry, cracked earth of Verun, nor its towering mountains seemed all too inviting. Didn’t seem to be the ploy for life and where one might desire to plant their roots or set up shop. Neither was a planet such as Tattooine, but people still managed to make that sandpit a home. It truly was amazing, the ingenuity of man and what he was capable of doing, even in the most seemingly uninhabitable locales. Verun, at least, wasn’t that lifeless. At least not from what Korvis could see in a quick pass over of the planet’s surface.

But what it was that brought the man here, wasn’t the seeking out of life, but rather to get away from it in a sense. Even though he’d cut ties with the gangs that squandered the surface of Nar Shaddaa, his past always seemed to find a way to catch up to him. It seemed as though he’d pledged himself to a life system when he’d run off from the Jedi in his youth, not wishing to forego what made him, well, him. Even if there were certain positives that would come out of such things. The stoic, and rather monk-like life just wasn’t his cup of tea so to speak.

And so here he was now in the life he’d picked. A man among the stars adventuring to whether the credits took him. That was his path. And though it may have been chaotic and difficult at times, it had been his choice to make. A decision he didn’t regret. Even if his only ‘friend,’ if you could even call it that, was an astromech droid, endearingly referred to as 'Bucket.'

“Let’s put her down in the south there, Bucket,” he said, pointing to a landing pad located in the southern district of the city holographically shown.

Bucket responded with a series of binary beeps and whistles as it plugged itself into the Phoenix Reborn’s central computer to begin executing Korvis’ orders.

“And make it smooth for a change, would you?”

The Phoenix Reborn, a heavily modified VE/VS-004 Rebirth-class Light Freighter, lurched and vectored itself toward the vacant landing pad. It all seemed as though the landing was going to be a smooth one as the descent was exactly that. That was, however, until Bucket cut the repulsor engines prematurely causing the Phoenix Reborn to indiscriminately drop a few in a billowing thud to the duracrete pad below it.

“I said smooth, you dumb droid,” Korvis exclaimed as he found his footing once again.

Bucket responded with a few hushed whistle and tones, reminiscent of its disappointment or shame of its piloting abilities.

Moments later, the ramp from within the ship’s cargo bay would descend, piston and other components and gears hissing and clanking in the process Allowing for Korvis’ silhouette to be seen at the top as he would set out toward the city’s 'Hub' seconds later. ​

 

[Yeshua]

REGNUM, VERUN

Seven Years.

When one lived as long as the Vampyre, years can go by in the blink of an eye. In the case of Yeshua, the days and months blurred together in his memory. Perhaps it was due to his age, or maybe the repetitious nature of his daily life. Ever since the original Day of Landing, he had been in the constant service of the realm's navy. Specifically, commanding the Jericho II alongside his first mate: Finnea Virlee .

Each day, their vessel was pulled into conflict. Be it escorting patrols, aggressively discouraging the Khanate, or any mixture of the two. It was seldom that they were not aboard their ship. And if they weren't? They were aboard one of the stations watching over their ship's repair. Thus, Yeshua was grateful to have some shore leave - especially since it coincided with the Ascendancy's most cherished holiday.

The capital city, Regnum, was alive. One could all but feel the intensity in the air.

Tonight, the Vampyre and the Ensign landed via shuttle at the Hub's spaceport. And straightaway, Yeshua's eyebrows hit the ceiling. He had anticipated celebration, but what greeted them was a literal party in the street. There were many events that he had indulged in over the centuries, but this was easily the most...loud? Turning his head, he motioned towards the live music nearby.

"Can't say I've ever seen this before."

Finnea Virlee​

 

[Finnea Virlee]

REGNUM, VERUN

Seven Years.

When one lived as long as the Vampyre, years can go by in the blink of an eye. In the case of Yeshua, the days and months blurred together in his memory. Perhaps it was due to his age, or maybe the repetitious nature of his daily life. Ever since the original Day of Landing, he had been in the constant service of the realm's navy. Specifically, commanding the Jericho II alongside his first mate: Finnea Virlee .

Each day, their vessel was pulled into conflict. Be it escorting patrols, aggressively discouraging the Khanate, or any mixture of the two. It was seldom that they were not aboard their ship. And if they weren't? They were aboard one of the stations watching over their ship's repair. Thus, Yeshua was grateful to have some shore leave - especially since it coincided with the Ascendancy's most cherished holiday.

The capital city, Regnum, was alive. One could all but feel the intensity in the air.

Tonight, the Vampyre and the Ensign landed via shuttle at the Hub's spaceport. And straightaway, Yeshua's eyebrows hit the ceiling. He had anticipated celebration, but what greeted them was a literal party in the street. There were many events that he had indulged in over the centuries, but this was easily the most...loud? Turning his head, he motioned towards the live music nearby.

"Can't say I've ever seen this before."

Finnea Virlee​

Seven years.
Finnea was just a teen when she escaped her previous Sith controlled warship, when she enrolled with the Confederacy Navy, when she survived the brutality of CNS Jericho's destruction, discover her hidden powers, on the Day of Landing and lastly when she was made Ensign.

The engineer had worked hard to prove that she deserved her role as Ensign by barely ever being abscent and developing tactics alongside the commander that worked fine with the highly advanced cannons onboard their new ship. She had taken some flights here and there on her own missions to either collect rare mechanical devices she needed for repairs or upgrades, blueprints and to get some space from her repetative life. Finnea had practised self control often, even played with her new found abilities, even become rather good at it, no longer so shaken and scared.

Today, however, she was scared again. She had never expressed any excitement about participating at this celebration, only agreeing in a monotone and empty way, much like a droid would have. She secretly hated the idea of leaving the ship to participate. The engineer had never been attenting anything remotely fun and the fact that it was overwhelming to her surfaced once the sound and sight of bright colours and cheerful music reached her. Finnea jumped as firework erupted directly overhead, spreading glorious colours over them. She turned around to head back to the shuttle, this was not for her.

"I'll go back onboard sir, be safe." she didn't take a second look because her eyes revealed a combination of fear and being moved as tears had appered which needed to be hidden!

Yeshua

 

[Kyyrk]

Seven. Long. Years.

Kyyrk still remembered the day like it was yesterday. The day that the Ascendancy knew it was SAFE. Or, at least the vast majority had believed they were safe. Kyyrk was one of the many who stood watch upon the walls. Sleepless nights and restless days had consumed his first cycle upon the planet. But once the walls were secure, and the city was underway, he left. His official reason was a leave of absence, to try and find other survivors among his people. To guide them to safty on Verun. But in truth, he trained. So far to the edge did he push himself that it was often a point of contention between him and his new partner, Alessandra Creed .

But in the end, it paid off. The once haggard man had returned to Verun one autumn day, With a new blade, and new armor in tow. He'd asked to speak with the Vicelord. What they spoke of, few knew. Kyyrk began to reintegrate with the Ascendancy, though that did not mean that he became a fixture of Verun. No, the man made frequent trips back into civilized space. But this time, on behalf of the Ascendancy. But he made sure that he would be home for landing day. An event this important, he wouldn't miss.

Much of the day was spent in preparation, grooming his hair, his beard, and ensuring his suit was in good condition. Alessandra worried over him the whole time, in spite of his insistence to the contrary. But deep down, Kyyrk suspected she enjoyed the sport of it. When he did emerge from the residence, he was dressed much the same as he had been at the Eternal Gala all those years ago. Same suit, Same vest. Pristine. There was to be a tour at the palace grounds, and Kyyrk could think of no better way to serve his new nation, and preserve his own sanity, then by residing in the gardens for the night....​

Open to interaction

 

[Tre'von Vile]

​

There is no road like the one of rebirth. To fall so far and so heavily, yet rise back up to greatness despite everything standing against you. That was the road the brave Ascendants walked together on. Along that road, this day came. A day for celebration and merriment. A day Tre'von would enjoy without question.

The young Paladin walked through the streets of The Hub with a bag of Fritzle Fries in hand and wonder in his eyes as the streets were so alive. The bass of the music invaded his head and sent him on a carefree trip into a valley of sound he did not want to escape from. It was all starting to seem worth it. All the struggle, pain, and loss they had suffered to get here. Tre would never forget any of it, but he knew it was worth it in the end.

Tre wandered his way into a club on the main street. Signs around made it appear the club's name was Asteroid. This was the first time he's been to such a place. He hardly ever had free time in between training and operations. He had to go all out for tonight. A lot of pent up fun was ready to explode as he stepped on the dance floor. He began to move and shake to the rhythm of the music. He garnered a bit of attention from the crowd as he danced. He did not care. He was only there to dance the night away. Maybe meet a girl or two on the way, as well.

 

[John Locke]

​

Wearing: No points for guessing...a suit​

_________________________________________________

Regnum City, Verun​

Tagging: Kyyrk
_________________________________________________

The city was full of life, of celebration, of the joyous cry of a nation that had found itself rescued from the very brink of destruction. The refugees from the Confederacy had found a cause to fight for, to believe in, while the natives of Regnum had found people to support and protect them. Both sides had found what they wanted, what they needed, a home.

It was something the refugees from the Southern Systems had been missing for the longest time, for too long really. It was fundamental, few people could function without having that sense of security that came from belonging somewhere. Only, John didn't feel it, not really, not in this planet, not in this place. He could see how his friends had found their way here, had settled into the lives they were building for themselves. The dark-haired man hadn't been able to spend the time to settle in here for himself, constantly bouncing back and forth from the Ascendancy to the rest of the galaxy and back as he focused on the development and expansion of his company.

No, that wasn't entirely honest. John's heart, his home was another planet, a green and blue jewel nestled in the diamond speckled satin of space. The man's lips quirked up at the poetic turn of phrase his mind had taken, he needed to head back to Naboo soon. Just to settle himself back into the calming nature of his home, and to catch up with those he cared about. Which was why he was here, he wouldn't have missed the celebration for anything, but the loudness of the night clubs and parties didn't appeal to John, they never had. An Exarch could never really go unnoticed here but as soon as he'd been able he'd made his escape from the party still going strong, seeking solace in the quiet of the gardens.

Only he wasn't the only one who had thought of escaping out here.

Starlight glinted off the crystal tumbler helf in his hands as he offered the man a silent salute, the amber liquid almost glowing under the starlight's touch before John raised it to his lips, enjoying the burn of the whiskey sliding down his throat.

"Fancy running into you out here. Mind if I keep you company for a while?"

​

​

 

[Yeshua]

In battle, she was fearless.

When the firework erupted overhead, the Commander witnessed something out of the corner of his eye. His trusted Ensign jolted - surprised by the sudden explosion of color and noise. This caused the ancient man's eyebrow to raise. For seven years, they had stood aboard a vessel that had taken beating after beating. And during each skirmish, Finnea was able to keep the Jericho running without breaking a sweat. Be it barking orders over the comm or rolling up her sleeves to mend some of its wounds.

She was no stranger to explosions, noise, or warzones. So why was she so quick to want to return to the shuttle?

As the woman began to step closer to their ship, Yeshua cleared his throat. "You deserve this, do you not?"

He turned to face her as she drew closer to the vessel.

"After so long aboard, fighting and mending, you deserve a break. Deserve a chance to do something different. Sure it's noisy, but it's not nearly as loud as the last skirmish."

The Vampyre extended his dominant hand. An offer - same as when she had become the Jericho's first mate.

"We'll brave this battle together, like always. Yes?"

Finnea Virlee​

 

[Abel Denko]

REGNUM, VERUN

The bass echoed in his bones.

When the blonde warrior closed his eyes, he felt as though he had never left home. Everything about the Day of Landing reminded Abel of a world he had left long ago. A world with cities that never slept. Frankly, the largest thing that kept the nostalgia from being too monumental was the smell. Or rather, the lack thereof. His home, Nar Shaddaa, carried with it a stench that could weaken the knees of lesser men. Regnum? Even with the party in full swing, all he could smell was heat. Even so, the memories were a neat distraction from the sensation dominating his stomach.

For tonight was no usual outing.

There was this girl. She was bold and not afraid to call the Knight on his shit. She swore like she was from Nar Shaddaa. Drank like she worked with the Black Suns. And could fly a ship like a professional spice runner. She was cut from the very same cloth as Abel Denko, and since they met they were practically attached at the hip. He taught her how to control the Force, and in turn she taught him how to live. Reminded him that duty and stress would only put him in an early grave.

And part of her lessons was being shoved out of his comfort zone. Was he allowed to patrol the walls tonight? Hell no. He was, quote, taking her on a date. A date? Him? What did one even do on a date? What even was a date?

Despite his lack of experience in this regard, Abel was unable to evade the night's festivities. Thus, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The bass echoed through his bones, allowing the comfort of nostalgia to settle his nerves. He then turned and set his gaze upon the ashen-haired woman at his side.

"This Asteroid club looks good. Up for a drink?"

Anything to get off the street at least.

He wouldn't be caught dead throwing it back on Main.​

Luna Evanstance | Tre'von Vile (Nearby)​

 

[Darth Metus]

Wearing: Armor of Darth Metus​

REGNUM, VERUN

Seven Years.

It had been nearly a decade since a literal god rampaged across the southern systems. Nearly a decade since the Sith Lord's ambition had been put to the sword. There was not a day that went by when the man's pride did not bare its fangs as this reality. Not a single day where he did not blame himself for the Fall. But from this pit of animosity came fire. An inferno of purpose which ordered his steps to this very day. It began as mere embers as the cataclysm ripped his world in twain. Caught wind and exploded when the vessels first touched down upon Verun's desolate surface. Darth Metus was never the sort to break, bend, or kneel. He was never the sort to give up, even when the Galaxy itself seemed hellbent on his defeat.

So it was that he led them. His pride became their pride. His inferno captured their hearts and set them against the horrors of the Shiraya Expanse. Where a lesser people would be consumed, they survived. Where a meek people would have perished, they adapted. Now, the Dominus stood to commemorate all that the Ascendancy had accomplished. For seven years, his reign had been one of survival and building a new home.

Yet now, his vision was of expansion. Of extending their will across the whole of the Shiraya Expanse.

But visions were never realized alone. Only the foolish would attribute their successes to their skill or will exclusively. Even the Dominus - the Emperor - wouldn't dare say that he ruled without support. Consider the alabaster woman, Srina Talon . From the outset, her place had been at the Dominus' side. When the Confederacy fell, she took the journey south alongside her master. When the Day of Landing first occurred, she raised the walls with him. Fought back the Khanate's raiders with him. Put to the sword their enemies for him. As his Exarch-turned-Primarch, she was a direct extension of his will. Her word was his word. Her blade was his blade.

And behind closed doors, she shared the burden of his soul. Between them ran a bond born of the Force. One which conveyed thought, feel, and true intent. The Echani knew, and boldly carried the scars of the Cataclysm. And in turn, the Sith Lord carried the wounds that had been inflicted on her heart. Where he suffered because of the fall, she suffered because of loss. In silence, they lifted each other up. For seven long years, they were one.

Such support was pivotal yes. And on the opposing side of the coin, consider the primordial one. She who sits upon a throne of black. Where the alabaster woman shared in the burdens of her mentor and friend, the Domina - the Empress - poured fuel upon his inferno. She set fire to the seeds of doubt. Salted the fields of defeat. She kept his mind focused, keened his ambition, and pushed him to never settle. Always move forward. Always push through. For seven long years, she was his key motivator. The muse to the masterpiece of the Ascendancy. She, too, spoke with his authority. Ruled as one alongside him. Broke their adversaries beside him.

And tonight, they would all celebrate the Day of Landing. For it was truly a turning point in all their lives. From this night forward, the Expanse would be their prize. Not just their current corner, no. All of it.

As the fireworks began to erupt overhead, mechanical footsteps echoed from within the palace. A cadre of Magnaguards, favored by the Echani, escorted the trio down into the Palace Grounds. The procession was ceremonial - meant more for the people than it was for the protection of the three. Each, alone, could move mountains. But the people needed to see their leaders safe. For their safety meant security for all. And though Darth Metus personally didn't enjoy their presence, it was a small price to pay for their peace of mind.

Upon reaching the Courtyard, the Sith raised Srina's hand to his lips. Outwardly, it was a simple, courtly gesture. But it quietly conveyed his hopes through their Bond. Namely: Have fun.

As silence as an evening breeze, she went her own way, leaving Darth Metus and Darth Elyria to their own devices.

"Try not to eat anyone my dear." he said. Each word dripped with his usual snark.

And though he joked, it was a very real possibility...

Darth Elyria | Srina Talon | John Locke | Kyyrk​

 

[Binary]

Location: Astroid Ckub - Regum - Verun
Wearing: Little Black Dress
Tagging: Tre'von Vile​

There was something about a city in the night when the shroud of darkness settled over the city like the black satin of a dress. During the day a city could be friendly or all business, the kind of place you could take your time strolling through or one of those cities where everyone just focused on themselves and getting from A to B. When night fell, however, none of it mattered. It was like the city would open up, dropping its masks to show a different face. That was the face of a city that Anya loved.

The bright lights of the clubs, the pounding bass that you could feel in your bones, the press of bodies and the sound of laughter. It didn't matter who you were during the day, what stress and worries you might bring, under the lights of the club none of that was important, none of that mattered. Everyone was equal, all that mattered was tonight, was the song and the movement of the dance.

And tonight the aura of the club had spread out to fill the rest of the city, it was a celebration the likes of with the young woman had never seen before. A heady beat, an aura that seemed to draw her in and in till she arrived at the club, cheeks flushed as silvery eyes took in the scene, her petite frame swaying to the beat of the music that seemed to reach out and wrap around her. A delicate hand reached up to tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear as she stepped forward, letting the music wash over her and carry her away.

For that heartbeat, that frozen moment of time it didn't matter who she was or what she did. For that moment she could feel human again, a gift that she would embrace while she could. Eyes closed as she raised her hands above her head, twisting and swaying in time to the beat.

Leave everything at the door, tonight was about the celebration.

 

[Srina Talon]

V E R U N
| R E G N U M |

Tag: Darth Metus | Darth Empyrean
Objective: BYOO {Seated in the Courtyard - At the edge of a large wishing fountain.}
Style: X & X
_________________________________________________________​

The silvery hollows of her eyes flickered.

Shadow and flame. Death and bone. That was what she recalled from the travel between Confederate Systems into this hidden, torn, expanse of nothingness. She had been driven by the need to act whence her own battles concluded and called by the mental will of her Master to where he required. The Echani woman was used to the Southern Systems. Now, they had taken the slang term to a whole new level.

Seven years was a long time. Nearly, a decade.

It all still felt like the majority of it had happened the day before. It clung to her. A dream within a dream that refused to let go no matter how she pressed the past into a locked box from which it should never escape. The former Exarch of the Confederacy disappeared from the public eye. She kept in touch with a few souls that held her ear, but for the most part she dedicated her efforts toward rebuilding.

It was a simple task compared to the monumental endeavor of monitoring and caretaking hundreds of thousands of sovereign systems that all had an axe to grind with one another. It was simple, tedious, however honest work. She could use her hands. Use her skills to aid others, to prepare them, to keep them sharp for the raiders that sought to pillage the incoming supply drops that Alessandra Creed arranged. She was one of the few that held the foresight to prepare, thoroughly, for a cataclysmic eventuality. It was simply a matter of acquiring it.

Then—Their people would eat. Have fresh linen to bind their wounds. Care, for their children.

As she could never do.

Srina was uncomfortable with the procession that led her through a veritable palace. It was not like the official governmental buildings that Naboo or Geonosis had once offered. They were stark and devoid of frivolity. Made for function—Not adulation. The architecture here was changed. It was fit for a King. For an Emperor. A Dominus, as it were. Her pale expression remained devoid of all things while metallic eyes surveyed the crowd without an ounce of anything that remotely seemed close to empathy.

She had left the Shiraya Expanse once and only once.

Srina traveled through the night gate, through the void, to Naboo. To the place that had ejected her people once they were no longer of use. No longer capable of protecting them from the horrors of the empty. She traveled alone. She fought. She bled—She left.

That issue was still unresolved. The only thing she took from that accursed place were the remains of her daughter. She would be entombed here. Safe. Safe from those that might wish to use the corpse of her child against her and safe from the father that had abandoned her both in death and in the netherworld.

She compartmentalized instead. Rationalized. Buried it.

It was the only thing that kept her sane in a time when she could not afford to break beneath the weight of the tasks that had been set before her. Darth Metus sought to aid in these ills. To bring some measure of peace, however, it was only in work that she found complacency. She wished to reach out to Darth Empyrean more often but things were dangerous. Srina slipped messages through when she could. When she could feel him, if, he could feel her. Electronic transmission was…Difficult, to say the least. The Expanse was well hidden. Protected, by natural phenomena.

The Magnaguard were a comfort. Whereas her Master thought them to be unnecessary the Echani held some measure of relief in cold photoreceptors. They did not ask if she was well. They did not ask what was on her mind, nor, did they question the storm that constantly brewed at the center of her core. They simply obeyed. Let her be.

When they reached their destination Darth Metus took her hand and placed a kiss on the back of it. Much to his partners eternal displeasure. She could feel the snarl, even though, she couldn't see it. The action was familiar enough and her swan-like neck inclined gracefully, respectfully, to show reverence before the people to their Dominus. That Srina Talon, their White Witch, their Dread Queen exhibited reverence meant that all should. She knew this game, slowly, but surely.

His will for her to "Have Fun" caused her to suck in a deep breath through her nostrils. It was sharp. The subtle way that she moved away from the Sith Lord would tell him the only thing she could promise:

// I will try / /​

This should have been a time of merriment but she was too lost in her thoughts to focus on much for than the issues she had left behind on Naboo. Easy footsteps took her through the arid courtyard and two of the Magnaguard followed her. The clothing she wore was too fine. She had grown used to tough leathers and hardy fabrics that protected from the elements. This? Reminded her days long, long ago. The gown had been thoughtfully styled in the colors of House Talon but she wished to wearing, doing, anything else. It was beautiful. Every inch of it.

She felt like a monster.

The white-haired woman took a seat among the people along the edge of a fountain and she settled in to watch the festivities from afar. The Magnaguard settled themselves, almost, lazily around her. It was an effort to appear non-threatening. Her long hair had grown even longer and silvery-gold beads clinked together when she moved. She left it down, free, with braids woven through it here and there.

The whole of Regnum seemed to be celebrating.

Srina Talon could only sit. Wait.

Perhaps this would be the day when he found her. When the duties of trying to aspire to something greater hadn't swept him away. It was a selfish wish. A selfish want. Not for the first time she found herself twirling a golden ring about her finger. Not for the first time, waiting, and hoping for anything but distance and emptiness. It was a fool's errand.

She had been too silent, too long.

 

[Alessandra Creed]

Tag: Kyyrk | John Locke
Wearing: LBD

"No, no...That goes to the west pavilion. To the west—", Alessandra cut herself off and shook her head slowly before reaching out to move the decorator by the shoulders and physically point then in the right direction. She'd spent all morning making sure that Kyyrk looked presentable but at the same time she needed to make sure that celebrations in Regnum were flowing as they should.

This Ascendancy did not have Master of Ceremonies or Minister to serve this function. So, it fell to her. She had an eye for budgets and a knack for keeping things organized so it only seemed natural to do so. Her position was the same as it always was, however, and she merely kept crunching data to ensure everything ran smoothly. They set off "x" amount of fireworks at a certain time simply to ensure they had enough come evening.

"That's perfect!"

Her words were thrown out toward a set of dark-haired twins that were toddling on a ladder to hang a cloth banner. She stood with her hands on her hips for a long moment and watched to make sure they came down all right. They laughed, so carefree, that Alessandra found herself startled by the sound. When had she last heard the sound of teenagers giggling about nothing? About decorating or the snacks or making doe-eyes at the boys over at the fairy floss station. It felt like forever.

So very, very strange.

"Bye Miss Creed! Call us if you need us!"

"Don't eat too many sweets! And don't—", she called back, but they were already gone. She had been assigned to tutor the girls in education and business since their parents had passed away not long after the fall. They were wards of Verun proper but everyone seemed willing to help. That was the way of it, here. It was different than Golbah City or Theed in that life was exceedingly…Simple. She had more free time on her hands than she knew what to do with simply because the size of the territory was nicely contained.

Alessandra could handle this in her sleep.

A short while let signaled that the Dominus, Domina, and his favored Primarch had made their way through the procession, and from the way the crowd seemed to swell she could only assume it went well. A familiar feeling buzzed in the back of her mind and she turned to see a pair of glowing purple eyes through throngs of people. Ah, there he was. Finally.

The Minister politely made her way toward Kyyrk and Primarch John Locke . Chocolate eyes swept over the carefully dressed techno-mogul and she sized him up carefully. She had mostly forgiven him for past transgressions, however, there were still times that she enjoyed reminding him rank or not—Exactly, who he was dealing with. Lest, of course, he forget. "Primarch Locke…", she called his name, slowly, reaching out for Kyyrk in an almost habitual fashion. As if her arms had wrapped around him a million times. By this point, they probably had.

"How have you adjusted Verun? I haven't seen you around much…Still playing with Locke and Key?"

It was a not-so-subtle thorny barb sent in his direction that directly questioned where his priorities lay. He had rarely set foot on the planet, in the city, and yet, he held a position of power because he was adequate at shuffling paperwork? "I've even seen your darling Ginger Jedi here more often. She fixed up one of my girls the other day, thankfully, the poor thing broke her arm."

In seven years, Alessandra had lost many things. None of those things missing, as Mr. Locke would discover, revolved around her scintillating wit and a waspish tongue. That remained.

She leaned up to Kyyrk and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Feather-light, to keep him from wearing her lipstick. "You managed to stay looking… Quite nice.", the compliment was touched with something that might have been inappropriate, but, the Primarch would just have to deal with it. The Minister wasn't shy about her feelings and didn't feel the need to pretend she was.

It had been seven years, after all.

 

[Finnea Virlee]

In battle, she was fearless.

When the firework erupted overhead, the Commander witnessed something out of the corner of his eye. His trusted Ensign jolted - surprised by the sudden explosion of color and noise. This caused the ancient man's eyebrow to raise. For seven years, they had stood aboard a vessel that had taken beating after beating. And during each skirmish, Finnea was able to keep the Jericho running without breaking a sweat. Be it barking orders over the comm or rolling up her sleeves to mend some of its wounds.

She was no stranger to explosions, noise, or warzones. So why was she so quick to want to return to the shuttle?

As the woman began to step closer to their ship, Yeshua cleared his throat. "You deserve this, do you not?"

He turned to face her as she drew closer to the vessel.

"After so long aboard, fighting and mending, you deserve a break. Deserve a chance to do something different. Sure it's noisy, but it's not nearly as loud as the last skirmish."

The Vampyre extended his dominant hand. An offer - same as when she had become the Jericho's first mate.

"We'll brave this battle together, like always. Yes?"

Finnea Virlee​

Urgh.

That sound of the commander clearing his voice was getting too familiar. It was probably going to be followed by him either giving her an advice or talking some sense into her. It was always annoying, especially when she didn't want to leave her comfort zone!
With her back turned towards him, eyes on the shuttle, she waited. And she was not prepared. At his initial question, the woman slowly turned half way around to look at him but not giving him an answer.

True.
The last battle had been exhausting, but it hadn't been very different from most fights. Maybe she was truly getting tired of always being at work. Now fully turned again, arms around herself, Finnea watched the scene behind him that had all these vibrant colours playing and the music was sort of inviting. Maybe it would be ok.

Throwing one last look back at the shuttle, internally cursing because she had been so close to getting out of here. She could have settled alone in her private cabin onboard and done some meditating but instead she was being talked into going to this celebration.

She waved his hand away as she came up at his side, completely avoiding eye contact. "In all respect, sir. Shut up."

Finnea stared to walk at his side, trying to not seem as stiff and uncomfortable as she was. "I'll give it one hour, I have some things I need to finish onboard." Lies. With arms crossed over her chest while staring at the entire scene like they were surrounded by raving lunatics.

Yeshua
Attire

 

[Darth Elyria]

Tag: Darth Metus
Attire ​

Ah, peasantry.

They appeared even more delectable when falling into sycophantic cheers at the appearance of their Lord and Master. Of course, she would keep such things to herself. It was not becoming of a Domina as it were to speak so plainly ill of the insects that kept her visage in a lofty sense of idealism. She moved down the long steps without seeming to walk at all, merely, gliding while endless lengths of onyx hair followed in synch. She wasn't sure how she felt about the white rabbit, still.

She had adjusted to her unseemly presence but the primordial woman still loathed her very existence. There was always a tug on the mind of Darth Metus . A spot in the back. As if the terrible little creature had tied a string to the man's spine and incessantly tugged at it when she wanted something. Constantly, constantly, saving people, building things, teaching them, training them. When did these banal tasks ever cease? When did it end?

After all these days, years—Could they not fend for themselves?

The black clothing that she wore seemed to exemplify all that she was. It was austere. Commanding. Her head remained high while her Isley kissed the hand that belonged to the rabbit and her eyes rolled heavenward. Completely aware that their every move was under scrutiny. She hardly cared. The machinations of a being so young, so malleable, barely held any weight. There were times when she was tempted to press the darkness within his precious Primarch. Tempted to press, push, and seduce…But that would upset Isley.

"I never get to have any fun."

She huffed but the former Mandalorian at her side would have no idea what had displeased her this time. It was an ongoing issue. Elyria had spent the better part of the last seven years working on her ability to communicate. Apparently, that was the key to a successful partnership. So said the rather informative holo-dramas that she watched rather religiously. The "Real Housewives of Mon Cala" often showed her very valuable knowledge that she could apply to Isley with impunity.

He declined some of her ventures, plainly, and she did not understand why. Clearly, it worked in the holo-vid so it must work presently as well. She'd even learned, effectively, how to make dinner by doing something called "ordering in" and a small, frightened human, would bring an obscene amount of carbohydrates directly to her. It was only after the fact that she was informed that the "food" was in the packages and not the human itself. A pity, but she obliged.

She could even open the cartons. Something, she was very proud of.

Isley warned her not to eat anyone and she crossed her arms, huffy, with her nose in the air.

"I'm not."

Clearly. He could be so basic. (Another thing, she learned from the housewives. They were very skilled in getting their point across.)

 

[Kuben Woods]

Location: Verun Palatial Grounds
Tag: Darth Elyria , Srina Talon , John Locke , Kyyrk
Objective: Finally be introduced to Darth Metus

Damian was quietly cursing himself for his current situation. He'd spent the last seven years after fleeing the Empire Eternal to Confederacy space, only to see the place was on fire and people were evacuating there as well. Damian hadn't wasted time of course, donning a dead member of the CAF's uniform that roughly fit him, storing some of his more precious cargo in a safe place and getting to work. He fought alongside the CAF during the last stand in a holding action meant to buy time. There hadn't been any time for them to question him, and since he kept quiet on the ride to wherever they were going, nobody took the time to bother him as plenty of people had their own problems. Then the shock trooper would get to Verun, stand with some of the survivors and start leading the men, women and droids of the CAF against the Khanate. His prior experience, and soldering expertise, would prove time and again the stuff that would get him promoted rather quickly. He was decisive, disciplined, and a well versed fighter. Which was how he got to this point, being a candidate to lead the newly formed Ascendant Legion. What was left was for him to meet the former leader of the Confederacy, the newly crowned Dominus, Isley Verd. Or known to Damian as Darth Metus.

And he was uncharacteristically late.

He'd spent many hours preparing for this moment but it seemed that today of all days, everything that could have gone wrong, did. First his speeder that was supposed to transport him there, blew a regulator out of nowhere. Which took time find a replacement, which caused them to be caught up in the entry traffic into the city. Adding insult to injury there had been a diversion due to an accident which made the slow down so much worse. Finally because he'd been late, the driver for the ship had to drop him at the closest drop and go pad for non-VIPs (because his new ID hadn't gone through yet) was several blocks away. So he had to wade through a crowd, wait in line to get in, and finally made it to the grounds. He did a quick look over for his uniform, and sighed internally as he noticed creases and other scuff marks to what had been his immaculate dress uniform. Dark chuckling in his mind would draw his attention as he heard a familiar voice.

Seems like regardless of how well you prepare, the Force itself seems bent on making you suffer.

Do you have a point right now?

Aside from you're meeting a person of power that you've seen before and while you were under a different association, not much really.

And what's that supposed to mean?

The (Sith) Empire and the Confederacy may have been on better terms, but their leaders might not have been. Better hope he doesn't recognize you.

I saw him in passing, once. He didn't even see my face.

And you think such things limit the power or memory of masters? Hehehe, we'll see how that goes.

Damian tried to push the thoughts out his mind. His old life seemed eons ago. Like something that was a dream. His devotions to his master had gotten him little gained in that time. He was a monster of the lab, untrained in abilities that had been granted by the Sith and now at best a man with something to hide. At worst, he was an imposter pretending to be a human. He would walk to where he'd been told to go meet the Dominus. As he walked through the area, passing by small groups of other VIPs ( Kyyrk , John Locke , Alessandra Creed ) , his eyes would scan the room. His old training kicking in as he sized everyone up in the room, looking passive as he did so but doing it nonetheless. The voice in his head would make comments as he looked over people, imagining sick and twisted ways to murder, torture, or otherwise cause pain and anguish among them. Try as he might, he had to sit there and watch all of it, keeping his face passive as he looked for the Dominus. Finally a procession of Magnaguards would signal the former Vicelord's entrance, a procession that to many would seem calming. To Damian, it was but a front. If this Verd was even half as powerful as his old master, the guards only served to deter true challengers, and placate the masses. The voice in his head had a chuckle at the thought of tangling with one of them. He however would stand to the side, waiting for the main proceedings to be finished so he could properly introduce himself outside of the spotlight. And to not interrupt any ceremonies that might happen tonight. He knew to ruin the Dominus's, or his apprentice's, night was to invite oblivion. And as capable of a warrior Damian considered himself, and as powerful as the spirit that he kept caged within him, he knew that he could not even dare to stand against them. So he simply sat to the side and waited for his turn to present himself. There were others here of much greater importance than himself, so he figured he'd be waiting a while. He just hoped the former Sith didn't recognize someone who he'd been mere feet away from some years ago.

 

[Rann Thress]

-OPEN-
​

The city felt alive tonight. More so than usual. Different musics, cheers, laughs, even some cries were so loud. The sound of the people, happy, was infectious, and it couldn't help but worm it's way into Rann's heart. He knew he'd be happy to be here, that even if all it turned out to be was solitary drinking and dreaming, that he could bask in the emotions of the people around him. Feel their happiness, their joy, and perhaps some of his own.

With the music raging and the people dancing, Rann looked for a somewhat quiet place to enjoy a drink and a moment before he let himself get lost in the night. Finding a club just off the main avenue, he went inside, happily abused the Force to compel a bouncer to let him into the VIP area upstairs, and caught the attention of a waitress, ordering himself a drink. After receiving it, he turned to look out to see what view this place had. It didn't have too much, but it did have a small glimpse of the Palace, which Rann found himself staring at as he leaned against the railing. Of course, all he saw from here, leaning against the railing of a club in The Hub, were scant beacons of light inside the many rooms above the walls, but he wasn't looking for anything in particular anyway. Absentmindedly gazing, taking small drinks every minute or so, he allowed himself to daydream of a perfect world. His perfect world. A perfect family, loving parents, caring siblings, a beautiful wife and equally beautiful children. Importance, prominence, security and happiness. It was a nice thought. And as he stared at the palace, where assuredly he would find his father and step-mother, he felt a smile at what could be tug at his lips, before he took another drink, sighed and turned away leaning his back against the railing.

A nice dream, he thought, and nothing more.

That life of prosperity, importance, and family always seemed so tantalizingly close, but Rann knew at the end of the day that it was not meant for him. At least not yet. It's why he found himself here, in The Hub, as opposed to there. Why he likely wouldn't see his Father before he left Verun behind once more, for who knew how long this time. He knew he had a mission, a purpose, that he had to see to. He had to show the galaxy that he was not just Darth Metus ' son, that he was more.

Still, he had to be here tonight. Landing day was very important for all the old Confederate survivors. A day when everyone felt safe again. It's a day that countless people had given their lives for. Rann owed it to them to be here, enjoy the night, the music, and whatever company he would find. It wasn't the type of night to be wasted contemplating 'What ifs', nor reflect on Rann's family issues. So with a final drink, downing the last of the alcoholic liquid in his glass, he pushed off the railing, handing the empty glass to the nearest waitress, and left the club, wandering into the street.

There was street vendors selling food, souvenirs, clothing, and light up sticks that looked like lightsabers which made Rann chuckle. He purchased a couple of them, flipping the switch on them revealing a rainbow effect, and let himself get lost in the music, dancing in the crowd, smiling, laughing, and enjoying his time with the Ascendant citizens. It wasn't a perfect night, it wasn't a perfect life.

But it was good enough, and it would get better.

 

[Yeshua]

In all due respect, sir. Shut up.

The Vampyre's face contorted for a moment. Not with frustration, indignation, or any other form of bruised ego. Rather, his rejected hand covered his mouth quickly and stifled a chuckle. He quickly composed himself, shaking his head lightly. "And here I thought you liked my advice, ha!" Clearly amused, Yeshua motioned towards the festivities behind them.

"One hour, and not a second more, I can live with this."

His gaze then swept across the madness in the street. Even his willingness to step out into something new was tempered by the thunderous bass sounding about. Thus, when his eyes found a bar - called Astroid - he motioned with his chin. "There. I'm sure there will be music and drinks, but far less noise."

Leading the way, the Vampyre was more than happy to be the battering ram between his Ensign and the oblivious celebrators. Between alcohol and being lost to the music, some folk were simply unaware that there were people attempting to get by. Due to this, Yeshua had no qualms about pushing past. Such was the nature of these events.

Once inside Asteroid, Yeshua settled them door in a booth. Sure enough, there was music still - a decent selection by his taste - but it paled in comparison to the noise outside. Here, one could enjoy the celebration without flinching at fireworks.

"What's your drink of choice?" he asked.

For one could tell a lot about a person by their choice in swill.

Finnea Virlee​

 

[Finnea Virlee]

In all due respect, sir. Shut up.

The Vampyre's face contorted for a moment. Not with frustration, indignation, or any other form of bruised ego. Rather, his rejected hand covered his mouth quickly and stifled a chuckle. He quickly composed himself, shaking his head lightly. "And here I thought you liked my advice, ha!" Clearly amused, Yeshua motioned towards the festivities behind them.

"One hour, and not a second more, I can live with this."

His gaze then swept across the madness in the street. Even his willingness to step out into something new was tempered by the thunderous bass sounding about. Thus, when his eyes found a bar - called Astroid - he motioned with his chin. "There. I'm sure there will be music and drinks, but far less noise."

Leading the way, the Vampyre was more than happy to be the battering ram between his Ensign and the oblivious celebrators. Between alcohol and being lost to the music, some folk were simply unaware that there were people attempting to get by. Due to this, Yeshua had no qualms about pushing past. Such was the nature of these events.

Once inside Asteroid, Yeshua settled them door in a booth. Sure enough, there was music still - a decent selection by his taste - but it paled in comparison to the noise outside. Here, one could enjoy the celebration without flinching at fireworks.

"What's your drink of choice?" he asked.

For one could tell a lot about a person by their choice in swill.

Finnea Virlee​

A time limit was set and it was enough to make the Ensign immediately feel much more at ease and she would keep a close eye on the clock to make sure she could, without having another discussion, get up and leave the second an hour had passed. She knew Yeshua would keep to his word. Now following the commander, Finnea took notice of how he manouvered through the crowd of people and she had no choice but to keep up the pace and secretly being happy that he was her personal battering ram.

"If you say so, sir." the Ensign noticed the sign up ahead, still keeping in pace and barely avoiding some guy that came stumbling towards them with a glass of something in his hand that would have spilled over her if she hadn't taken a few running steps to get closer to the commander, now grabbing his arm which was highly unnusual.

"Uhh... " Holding on she tried to find the sign belonging to the bar he mentioned. "Astroid? Are we going to sverve around aimlessly?" she remarked upon analysing the name and maybe she wasn't entirely aware of how right she might be. "Doesn't sound remotely responsible." she followed him inside and was relieved that they had escaped the chaos and loud music outside.

She finally let him go and had a quick look around the place while making their way to one of the booths where Finnea settled herself, straight backed and proper. She shot him a glare that seemed to read she was offended by his question. "Water." she said, matter of factly but quickly shook her head. "But I assume that isn't the tradtitional answer when one are celebrating. So I'll try some lpellrilla" she sighed.

Yeshua
More ipellrilla

 

[Dreidi Xeraic]

Tag: Korvis Laerann | Rann Thress
​

Dreidi was amazed at how far the Ascendancy had come, it was so much bigger and better than she could have imagined when they first landed on the world. She had remembered when they first came here, the struggles, the fighting every single day to survive on a harsh world that didn't want to accept them it seemed. Dreidi felt a deeper connection to the Ascendancy than she ever did to the CIS, but that was likely because she had been here from the starting, working hard and showing that she deserved to be part of this new group, this new community and in her mind, this new family that was filled with people she had known for years now. It was hard to think of what life would be like without everyone in the Ascendancy. She was closer to most of them more than her own blood relatives in a lot of ways.

She was in her room, adjusting her hair, attempting to sort out the braids that she had made. It wasn't a neat look since she wasn't the best with braiding but it was better than other attempts. She was tempted to try using her Magick to conjure an illusion of the perfect look but that felt a little too difficult for her. She had progressed in her Magick skills a lot over the years and her Force powers were getting better too, her fighting capabilities with a Lightsaber were starting to outclass majority of her peers but she still had a long way to go before she was feeling confident to do her trials. She was curious about whether she should wear a dress or not. It was a hard decision since the street parties would be fun and she could hopefully sneakily get some alcoholic beverages but the chance to explore the normally locked palace gardens could be interesting.

In the end, she decided the appeal of dancing and feeling the atmosphere of everyone partying was too intoxicating to resist. She put on a dress and checked it out of the mirror, the dress was just above the knees but was a little puffy and she adjusted the straps to not be so tight on her shoulders. Turning around, she was surprised how nice the dress looked, she was so use to wearing her practical training gear that being in heels and a dress felt exotic and posh in a way she never expected it to. Eventually she pulled herself away from the mirror and headed outside, taking in the sights and large numbers already partying and enjoying the music from the various clubs. Dreidi was moving around the place, trying to see what was going on around her as she felt her stresses and pressures wash away every moment passing.​