Election Night Party (Fringe+Kiskla)

[Sargon Vynea]

Shorn was a problem but the fight on the roof was getting far beyond the word, problem, and Sargon was no Sith. This particular combat limited participation and there was only one ending, death, and anything that interfered would be a breach of honor, and possibly lead to their death. The winner of this conflict may just die along with the loser though if medical aid wasn't given. Punching in a few orders on his wrist mounted console the Zabrak sent several small medical crafts to float around the rooftop, each with a prepped and waiting team. Time would show who would be the victor, but they would survive for another day.

 

[Meret Blackmoon]

Anders knew Meret's heart and mind. Confusion filled her head. She squeezed his hand. "Hold my hand, please"
@Anders Silvas
So I came here to please Lucien but he was not here, I was all alone, then Rave was so nice to me, I was surprised. She encouraged me to make a speech, words flooded my mouth, I had one of those drinks, whooooo, saw you, felt better, your energy centers me, thank you
Meret focused on Rave "Yes, when your schedule permits let make arrangements for a tour." Of course all heads turned as Lord Cordel entered. He approached their group. Meret let go of Anders' hand. Her energy scattered. Lucien knelt down for a kiss. She kissed his cheek "PDA darling?, have a seat and I'll tell you about my evening...I got here and I was all alone, I made a speech and Rave and Anders were here to support me. Just think if I am elected to anything, giggles, Animal Control Officer or Fire Inspector I shall have more power ."
Meret looked up to noticed that she was alone again. Why do I even bother? Destruction, breaking things, killing other is so tried. Imagine what a power the Fringe would be if the fighting stopped and we all work together...
She grabbed another drink and thought about leaving. Anders was staring at her.

 

[Velok the Younger]

Ah, the Dark Side web. As a student of the greatest Sith Sorcerer in the modern age, Rave might not have been powerful enough to use the Force how she wanted to, but she could sure as feth recognize just about anything. This particular spell, some claimed, didn't have a weakness. Once you were snared, you were snared -- strength fading, Force connection ebbing. No real way to resist it apart from eroding it with Force light or holding it at bay with a shield, or sending a really big rock through the edge of it to create a temporary gap.

Rave did not know Force Light, Force Shield, or massive telekinesis. What Rave did have was knowledge. For example, knowledge that an Odojinya net started out diffuse and uncollected. As soon as the familiar word left Circe's lips and Rave processed its meaning, the Nightsister lunged sideways -- a motion she'd already begun, courtesy of Circe's projectile vomit. The Master was intoxicated, infected, and itching like mad, not to mention suffering from a metric fethton of fire damage and about five half-healed stab wounds. She'd also taken a point-blank sonic blast designed to crack teeth and burst eardrums. How she could manage the focus for this last desperate spell was beyond Rave.

Then again, Circe was a Master.

Rave held up her armorweave-clad forearms, parallell and pressed against each other, in front of her face, as she plowed through the half-formed Odojinya web. Bright green spirit ichor surrounded her in a faint nimbus that fought back against the web. The web still cut her from wrist to elbow on both arms, and a stray strand cut a hot line across her brutalized face. But she got out in the moments before the Web of Instakill closed.

She snatched up the Sith Empire Scylla chainsaw sword, and it revved to live. Inferior to a lightsabre in most ways, the alchemical machine was still -- in the right hands -- useful as all feth. She kept moving despite the heavy bruising in her left arm and the burn on her back, intending to bring the sword down on Circe's right shoulder or drive the exhausted Master through the door and down the stairs.

 

[Onrai]

There was one thing Circe understood, and that was physics. Physics such as Isic Nau'ton's First Law of Motion. An object at rest will tend to stay at rest until acted upon by an outside force. And an object in motion will continue to stay in motion until acted upon by an outside force. All that was keeping her from going into stasis right now was pain. She had been burned, stabbed, coated in frosting and mushy cake, felt like she was being pricked everywhere by Rave's blood, and currently was trying to ignore the fact that in less than a week, she would be nothing but a pile of white-blight-eaten mush. With Odojinya having been broken through at its vulnerable stage, Circe backed against the door, borne down upon by Rave and the chainsaw.

As Rave moved towards her at full speed, putting her entire body into the swing aimed towards Circe's body, Circe moved out of her way, though the chainsaw sword did cause her yet another gash on her shoulder, removing some of the cauterized tissue and reopening the top part of Circe's significant shoulder wound. However, a small tendril - a dark side tendril, would move to trip Rave up. If it caught her foot - and there was a somewhat decent chance it would - she would go into the door, likely knocking it down, and would fall down the stairs like M.C. Escher: The Game. If she did, well... The chainsaw would likely be thrown clear.

Please don't sue us, Warhammer 40k.

 

[Velok the Younger]

@[member="Circe Savan"]

Dark Side tendrils being one of the most comprehensively nasty and difficult-to-conjure Sith spells in existence, this one didn't get far before it set off every conscious and subconscious alarm related to Rave's Force connection. With Circe sidestepping on two brutalized legs -- one stabbed and then sliced, one stabbed and then burned, neither one as fast as Rave's pretty-much-undamaged legs -- the Nightsister just...stopped moving forward. Sokan, after all, was the art of understanding and using one's surroundings, and she was pretty decent at Sokan if she did say so herself.

Without pause, she brought the Scylla chainsword around in a point-blank attempt to take off Circe's right arm at the elbow. Alchemical teeth at a thousand RPM - and only three kilos! Too light to cause her injured left arm much grief with a two-handed grip. She continued murmuring the Revitalization of the Whuffa at a low level. Not as powerful as Circe's healing, but not remotely as draining.

 

[Onrai]

And it worked. Guess what Circe was missing that she had regrown from her time with Ashelotte? yeah... Her right arm. Though only losing part of it was pretty bad, she figured there was very little else for her to do. And with the Force, she picked up her busted arm. "Just shut the feth up, you schutta!" And sent it straight towards Rave's mouth, curled into a fist. If she managed to even hurt a single tooth, or slip a single finger in, Circe was going to force that arm as far down Rave's throat as she could until the woman started choking on it. There was a good thing, though - now her arm didn't itch.

And she fired as much lightning as she could with her left hand at the chainsaw sword. Whatever was powering that thing - likely a diatium power cell - would likely bust, seeing as it was already at near full charge, if Circe knew anything about Shinju and her keeping her man-eating equipment, she more than likely swapped the power cell out of it in order to make sure the cell didn't degrade from lack of use. And when a diatium cell is overcharged, well... Tru Veld's lightsaber gave a clue as to what happened. There would likely be a small explosion. Worse case scenario was that the weapon was slagged and unusable as anything but a large melee weapon with sharp teeth.

@[member="Rave Merrill"]

 

[Velok the Younger]

@[member="Circe Savan"] apparently hadn't had the chance to spend time with the Scylla model, or most alchemical swords, in her time as a Sith Lord. The Scylla's alchemical teeth blocked Force Lightning handily, and the Sith Lord had spent the last several moves operating on her very last bit of power. At this point, she just didn't have the juice.

Rave took the punch from the telekinetically flying hand just to be sportsmanlike. It split her cheek open. The alchemist stared pointedly at the stump now fountaining what little sap Circe had left.

And turned off the Scylla, and turned around, and walked away across the roof. Circe's 'last gasp' had been the Odojinya. No! It had been the Dark Side tendril. No! It had been the telekinetically wielded arm. "You're done, Circe," said Rave as she walked away, very sore, a little lightning-crisped, extremely tired and dripping blood from five decent cuts. "Call it a night. You're done." She raised her voice. "Someone find Ashin. Tell her to push the button."

 

[Onrai]

"You know, Rave..." She gave a smile as the paramedics came to attend to her. "You're the worst mother an experiment could ask for." And it was with that that Circe finally closed her eyes, entering Vinithi stasis as she was carted away to the nearest medical facility.

She would be there for months.

 

[Velok the Younger]

Rave sagged.

It was finally fething over.

"I need," she said, throwing Shinju back her chainsaw, "a Vaapad Lesson. I need it bad. I also wouldn't mind someone making sure that the Maw Irregular Fleet know what's happened here, what the terms and the stakes were. Someone grab me a Tempus Ardet with a kolcta tank. I need a ride to my new Black Hex."

Waiters scurried off on their errands. The new Lady Commander of the Maw Irregular Fleet, her part in the election sidelined, departed for a well-deserved rest.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

Serpena, being in the neutral zone, would not be forced into regime change in keeping with a Kaggath. The Maw Irregular Fleet folded neatly into the Fringe forces.

This was, in general, a good day. But as Ashin watched Circe Savan be wheeled away, she couldn't help but feel a good bit of regret. Not regret for the maiming, but that Circe hadn't committed when she'd been given the chance at a ruling council seat in the first days of the Fringe.

Actions, consequences, commitment...

She'd had too many Vaapad Lessons for this. Far, far too many. With a grimace, she stretched out to @[member="Spencer Jacobs"].

Need some healing on the roof, lover. Rave beat Circe but needs some aid or her face will scar. Bad.

It was time to go check on polling results.

 

[Shinju]

Shinju looked at the sword and started to pick at the teeth of it while she danced away and smiled. "Well that was fun to say the least. Perhaps next party we can all get into a drunken bar brawl as a team."

 

[Aran Finn]

Na'Varro stood at the scene of the duel after mostly everyone had left, reminiscing that this was by far the best political event he had ever attended. And he had attended a lot. With the Penumbra, it had always been politics this, politics that ... throw in some intrigue and mystery and you had an event. The Fringe, however ... heh ... Alen chuckled inwardly. A nice slice of ultraviolence to make the evening interesting. He noted how the blood and er, sap, had painted the floor artistically. Both opponents had fought well, and with skill. The plant known as Circe had found a lot of extra resolve to make the duel even more interesting. The Dark Jedi grinned, grimly. Good fight.

He walked over to the ledge, fumbling for a smoke and lighting it. It was at that moment that he realised that he had forgotten to vote ... chuckling and shaking his head, he had a draw of the cigarette and decided he didn't really give a feth.

 

[Onrai]

And as Circe was wheeled away - well, repulsed away - nobody gave a flying feth about her. Nobody cared that she was currently in such severe condition that she more than likely was going to die. Not the fact that Shinju had illegally provided assistance during what was supposed to be a one on one duel between participants who were using only the weapons they had chosen to bring. Not that Circe was currently having her body devoured by the inside by a worm so dangerous to a single specific type of plant that it was considered a plague. And certainly not that she was currently having what was left of her arm cauterized to save whatever sap was left in her.

As she was hauled off, her hand was, quite unintentionally, pointed towards Shinju, her fingers curled up in a fist. And one of those fingers was sticking up in a very specific way, a universal message to the cannibal that had damned her to destruction. And the best part? No one cared.

Not Ashin, who she'd saved from cancer. Not Spencer, who she'd remained a confidante of for years. Not Kaine, despite his disguise. Not anyone stood up for her during this duel, helped her in any way shape or form. Spencer was too busy being asked to heal face wounds that Rave had suffered. She would have better luck visiting a licensed plastic surgeon. And Circe thought about this as her unconscious body was taken to the nearest medical facility.

Fething Merrills. Always stealing things that aren't theirs.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

The severed arm rolled away, towed by a small but determined maintenance droid. Both droid and arm vanished into a ventilation shaft.

 

[Allyson Locke]

Spencer was down in the kitchen, she had a few more glasses of champagne and a few of those Vaapad Lessons. Of course these drove her to make her own cake. She had been letting it cool during the entire fight and it was time to frost it. Going over the cake with the delicate frosting, Spencer couldn’t help but lick her fingers. Finally, she was going to get what she deserved this entire night – a DELICIOUS BITE OF CAKE.

Ring Ring went the mental phone. Spencer leaned back and looked towards the ceiling as she listened to Ashin’s request. Yellow eyes closed as she pondered the situation, she was needed, but her stomach needed the cake. Remembering the child lingering about, Spencer grabbed the cake and took it with her towards the roof. In a brief moment, she passed Ashin as the woman headed to check the polls. Smiling, she leaned over and kissed the boozed woman on the cheek and handed her the cake.

“Take care of my baby, I’ll be back!”

Heading towards where they had taken Rave, Spencer shook her head slightly. She was going to have quite the work ahead of her. The girl had a few drinks as she looked at the empty glasses from the waiter next to her. This would make the pain possibly more bearable, but also made her blood thin – she had a couple of hours till that point kicked in. Focusing on the bit of light still clinging to her aura, Spencer brought it to the surface. A warm glow pushed out from her finger tips as she waved her hands over Rave’s face. The lacerations and the damage slowly bound together and the possible bruising started to lessen. After about an hour, the girl’s face was recognizable – though there was a bruise here and there, but Spencer figured Rave would be okay.

“Be careful next time please…now…where’s Ashin….and my Cake?”

Looking around she did her best to sniff out the cake, though she’d probably have an easier time sniffing out Ashin and the alcohol.

@[member="Ashin Varanin"]
@[member="Rave Merrill"]

 

[Dissero]

Clap. Clap. Clap.

This sounded in the doorway following Spencer's swift departure. That healer worked fast.

Dissero appeared, dressed rather casually for such a fancy occasion. His clothing was covered in soot and the smell of molten metals clung to him like a heavy cologne. The man offered Rave a flat smirk and a slow shake of his head. The chuckle that escaped him was deep and amused, "Well done. Saw the whole thing on my way in. As usual, I've missed all the fun. And the cake, apparently. I'd been wanting to meet you, though under much different circumstances."

@[member="Rave Merrill"]

 

[Velok the Younger]

@[member="Lord Dissero"]

The violet-eyed girl with a freshly-fixed face sat against a wall near the doorway, rain sluicing down over her. Her cuts were gone, her bruising healed, her burns assuaged. @[member="Spencer Jacobs"] was a fething excellent healer.

"I know who you are," she said, too tired for inflection. "And you know I was Velok's lab assistant, I assume."

She closed her eyes and leaned back to rest her head against the wall. Rain pooled in the corners of her eyes. "What can I do for you, Dissero?"

Feth, she felt grown up again, and she didn't like it.

 

[Dissero]

"I do now," Dissero replied shortly, smirk turning wry as he glanced to her. The man inhaled and stepped from the doorway partially into the rain. The sensation of it against his face was cool and refreshing.

"He may have mentioned you once or twice," staring out into the rain, expression bleak for a beat, the man cleared his throat, "You're tired, understandably so, this isn't the time for serious talks. I merely wished to meet you. Face to face."

He turned and stooped next to the woman so that he might be at her eye level. Looking her over, his expression drew amiable, appreciative for her show of skill and power, "Perhaps we might have a chat sometime, you and I, about our shared interests and skills. What can I tempt you with? A drink? A meal? A ride into Otherspace?"

@[member="Rave Merrill"]

 

[Velok the Younger]

@[member="Lord Dissero"]

"I did that whole thing on two Vaapad Lessons," she said. "Drink isn't high on my list right now. I wouldn't say no to an Otherspace jaunt, though. After I've had a checkup of course." She opened her eyes again. "Say what you will about our lady Yun-Harla, but cake is her priority. Buuuuuut, once I've checked out my new fleet, all fifty thousand metres of it, I'd be glad to go Otherspacing with you for a little. This universe is so prosaic."

Her grin reached her eyes. He was cute, too. No @[member="Gilamar Skirata"], but cute all the same.

 

[Dissero]

"Everyone keeps talking about those, the heck are they?" Dissero glanced behind him, back through the door and down the stairwell. He'd passed not just a few Fringers slugging back the potent purple on his way up. He'd never even made it to the main gathering. Or the bar. He supposed that was his next destination, as like that was where Spencer had headed and the man owed that woman another proposal. One just wasn't enough.

Frowning and with a knit brow, Dissero looked back to Rave with lips drawn thin. He nodded and chuckled, "Fair enough. See to your ships, tend to your business, then let me know when you're ready for something poetic." Blue eyes narrowing slightly, the man reached into a pocket, produced a small datachip containing his comm info and passed it to her.

@[member="Rave Merrill"]