Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Populate [GA + Friends] Niv Hani Fire Festival | GA Populate of Takodana



TAGS: Diogo Talon Diogo Talon
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"Zinder?" Braze quirked a brow, the corner of his mouth twitching in faint amusement. "Sounds like that silly dating site I signed Shan Pavond Shan Pavond up for when he and Colette Colette split." He paused, trying to piece together the memory. "Pretty sure that's the one..."

Braze's tone shifted, the humor fading as he turned introspective. "No, it's nothing like that. I met her outside a Sith tomb. She stole my saber and bled my crystal." He hesitated, as if sifting through painful recollections. "Eventually, she decided to switch sides, but... she's been in a coma for a long time. Just came out of it recently. I don't know... I think she's upset with her current circumstances. And honestly? I'm not sure how she feels about me anymore." His voice grew softer.

Shaking off the thought, Braze stepped forward to help Diogo navigate the snowy trail. His next words came casually, but they carried an undertone of sincerity. "You must have a pretty rough opinion of yourself if you think you're some kind of monster."

He glanced sideways, a small, rueful smile breaking through. "My other 'crush' could literally crush me as easily as you or I could snap a twig. If that doesn't scare me off, then trust me—you're not half as bad as you think... Though, I'm pretty sure they're into someone else, so... yeah, that ship's already sailed." Braze sighed, shrugging it off before his tone shifted to something more teasing.

"Wait a minute—you didn't get rejected by a cutie, did you? Is that why you're in such a sour mood?" He smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he nudged for a reaction.
 


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TAG: Roman Vossari Roman Vossari

Kuhbee felt his guilt surge further when he saw Roman had to pay the officials to make them go away. He would pay Roman back somehow, though right now the youngling did not have any money. He picked up a few more of the discarded fruits that had fallen from the stand and tried to stack them in the bowl like they had been before, but it didn't look nearly as festive and presentable as when the professionals had done it.

"Let's get you out of here."

Kuhbee allowed himself to be steered by Roman and together they wandered through the market out to the fringes where the fire dancers were not visible. The cub felt foolish for even coming to the event. He should have spoken up and told the Jedi that he was scared and didn't want to come with the other padawans, but he was just trying to make friends. Ever since being exiled from his tribe the young pup had felt so lonely and isolated.

"Not a fan of fire, huh?"

Kuhbee shook his head, still feeling guilty. [The slavers used fire to make us fight]

He was speaking of his days in captivity where he'd been forced to fight other beings for bloodthirsty patrons joy. Kuhbee had a lot of violence under his paws already, and now he had to add what he did to the festival to that tally. He felt so foolish.

[I hope I didn't ruin the festival]






 


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"I think they have, yeah."

He was constantly taking a peek to Zaiya, watching as her colors shifted and morphed. Curiosity, endearment. It was a mix of the two certainly. The colors she shined, at one point he did his best not to notice so she'd have some privacy. So it wasn't like he was reading her mind. Right now? He wanted to see all of them. He looked towards Ayhan and Mahsa again, nodding. He really did think they at least talked to each other. It was good they did.

Aris did raise a brow though as Zaiya talked about Azurine. Was she still jealous, like she'd told him before? He smirked after a moment, bumping her shoulder as they walked to the others. "I think that's more her boyfriend than just another friend. I'm glad she's got someone that has her interest. Look how she keeps sneaking peeks at him."

Though once they approached and Aadihr spoke up he blinked. There was an odd uncaring part of the mention of his father. The more focused part? The fact he'd called Aris Zaiya's boyfriend. It wasn't something they'd actually put as a label yet, right? Aris was, for once, speechless. Red burned on his ears, the back of his neck. He squeezed Zaiya's hand just a little, practically refusing to let it go.

He liked that label.

Azurine Varek Azurine Varek | Aadihr Lidos Aadihr Lidos | Ayhan Ayhan | Mahsa Mahsa | Zaiya Ceti Zaiya Ceti
 
Braze Braze

"Braze, The Matchmaker," Diogo said jokingly. "They have a bunch of silly dating apps these days. Any niche can be commodified. But it was probably Zinder you used 'cus that's the most popular."

"Sounds like you've had a complicated romantic life. What's even your type? People who can easily kill you? You have an interesting taste, to put it mildly."

"You must have a pretty rough opinion of yourself if you think you're some kind of monster."

"Yeah, well if I'm gonna have a worst enemy, it might as well be me," Diogo said, his classic non-answer answer.

"Wait a minute—you didn't get rejected by a cutie, did you? Is that why you're in such a sour mood?" He smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he nudged for a reaction.

"Uhhh... yeah, sure," Diogo replied with a dubious smile, happy that Braze gave him an out for explaining his melancholy. "There was a girl. You know Eloise Dinn Eloise Dinn by any chance? If so, I don't think I have to describe her. She's not afraid to... be herself, if y'know what I mean. I thought we had a connection, but I think I'm just dumb? Jury is still out on that one."
 

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Tags: Kuhbee Kuhbee


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Roman's breath hitched, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock and simmering rage. Slavers. He hadn't known that about Kuhbee, and the thought of someone forcing this gentle soul, this youngling, into such a brutal circumstance sent a cold fury through him. His heart ached for the pain the Wookiee had endured, the violence he had witnessed. "You didn't ruin the festival at all, Kuhbee, don't worry about it," he said, his voice softer than usual.

He needed to distract Kuhbee, to take the weight of the day off of his young shoulders. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as a memory surfaced. The Jedi Ball. Roman had made quite a fool of himself that night in a drunken state. "I'm sure you might have heard about my mishaps at the Jedi Ball on Dantooine..." he said softly, dipping his head slightly in shared embarrassment. "I made a fool of myself that night, much worse than what happened here, don't you worry, no one will remember this in a couple of days." He offered a sly smile, hoping his self-deprecation would ease the Wookiee's burden, even just a little.

They ambled toward a nearby stall, the vibrant colors of tribal trinkets catching Roman's eye. He ran his fingers over a smooth, carved piece of wood, his mind still preoccupied with Kuhbee's revelation. "If you don't mind me asking..." he said, his eyes flicking towards the singed fur on Kuhbee's fur, concern etched in his gaze. "What happened? Did you escape?" The question hung in the air, a gentle probe into the dark corners of Kuhbee's past, a past that Roman desperately wanted to understand, to help him navigate.
 
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OBJECTIVE ONE: THE DANCE
Interacting with: Aris Noble Aris Noble Azurine Varek Azurine Varek Aadihr Lidos Aadihr Lidos Mahsa Mahsa Ayhan Ayhan

Wearing: Dress

Hearing Aris suggest that the guy with Azzie might be her boyfriend sent Zaiya's mind spinning with a mix of confusion and curiosity. Her bioluminescent skin flickered with faint pinks, ambers, and vibrant oranges, betraying her intrigue even as she laughed at Aris's shoulder bump and returned it with a playful nudge of her own.

Wait, Azzie's interested in someone? The thought was both surprising and oddly amusing, but before she could unravel it further, Azzie's companion stepped into view.

Zaiya blinked, her irridecent opal blue eyes widening as recognition hit her like a shockwave. Knight Lidos. The same Knight who'd been on their strike team at Iridonia. She hadn't expected him to be here, let alone with Azzie. Her spots rippled with a curious citrine as she tried to process the surprise, but she didn't have time to piece it together.

Aadihr's pointed questions came quickly -- about her, about Aris, about their relationship -- each one landing with a precision that left Zaiya stunned. She froze, the colors on her skin flaring in startled patterns. Speechless, Zaiya could only stare, the faint glow of coral embarrassment bleeding into her usual hues as her mind scrambled for something, anything, to say.

Boyfriend?

The Lovalla Padawan tried to stifle the sudden flutter of giddiness his comment sparked, but it was no use. The sensation resonated through her, bouncing between her and Aris like an echo. The feedback and the questions brought a dawning realization, and her eyes went wide, wincing internally -- oh stars, she wasn't even blocking her resonance like she promised she would, so carried away in awe of Aris's dancing and being with him that it just happened again.

Great. Just great.

Her mental shields slammed into place as soon as she realized, cutting off the link to Aris and preventing anyone from reading her emotions, aura, and thoughts. It did not, however, prevent the way it left her emotions a bit of a mess in her own head. The colors on her skin didn't get the memo, though, pulsing with embarrassed gold and startled coral, but thankfully, those who could understand the colorshifting were extremely rare. She could feel Aris's hand tighten on hers, and the sensation only made her blush deepen. He wasn't upset, quite the opposite, but that didn't help her flustered confusion.

They hadn't even defined what they were yet. Things had been so chaotic lately, and the idea of... labels had barely crossed her mind. Well, it had, but there'd never been a moment to talk about it. Besides, they agreed on trying to figure out how her bond worked and agreed it would be best to not resonate to prevent her from growing one. And now? Now, it was out in the open.

"Oh... umm..." Zaiya stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. Her hand reflexively brushed a lock of colorful hair behind her ear as her gaze darted between Aadihr and Aris. Her skin shimmered as her feelings warred inside her, equal parts awkwardness and a strange, warm joy she didn't know what to do with. She wished the heat on her face could be blamed on the nearby torches, but no flame burned hotter than the embarrassment glowing over her face.

And yet, beneath her giddy confusion, something else stirred. The pointed way Aadihr mentioned Aris being the spitting image of his father sent a ripple of muted caution across her mottled spots. It wasn't a harmless observation; it felt loaded. Zaiya's iridescent opal blue eyes narrowed slightly, studying the Miraluka Knight. There was something unspoken in his tone, something that raised her defenses.

"I've been well, thank you," Zaiya finally replied, her tone polite but careful. Her skin muted into a more subdued palette, save for the yellow sparks of caution rippling faintly across her arms.

She forced herself to keep her voice even as she added, "Although, last time we spoke, my focus was on stabilizing your injuries and trying to make sure hidden assassins weren't going to attack us..." The words were quiet, but the subtle edge in her tone conveyed her discomfort with his earlier remarks. What went unsaid was that it had not been appropriate to even convey her relationships, their status, and the rather inappropriate query into it.

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Spitfire Soul, Heart of Gold
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Flames Of Connection
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Outfit: Fiery Dress | Glove | Right Arm | Talisman
Weapons: Lightsaber (hidden in arm compartment)

Azurine couldn’t help the laugh that accompanied Ayhan's quick response to her jokes, the sly grin plastered onto her face. "Technically, I've just got the one to offer," She quipped right back, continuing to make light of it. At least until she noticed the patterns of guilt in Mahsa's aura. Confusion flew through her eyes, but she knew when to dial it back just a little bit.

Azzie hadn’t been expecting the compliment, though, let alone one delivered so earnestly. A bit of a flustered blush crossed her cheeks, not used to the compliments. Mahsa’s words caught her completely off guard, and a warmth bloomed in her chest that she couldn’t quite tamp down. Her grin widened as she glanced down at her outfit again, trying to see it through Mahsa’s eyes as she gave a quick twirl for the fiery skirt to flare outward. "Thanks, Mahsa! For the record, you look stunning yourself!"

Soon, Aris and Zaiya had also approached them, and her joy spread out like a beam. However, before she got the chance to say anything, Aadihr took it upon himself to do the introduction—

Making her violet eyes go wide in response, her heart sinking in her chest.

Azzie stood amidst her friends, trying to suppress the waves of conflicted emotions rolling through her like a violent storm. She’d asked Aadihr to join them here, hoping he’d get along with everyone, but instead, the atmosphere felt like a tightrope about to snap.

Her initial reaction was to leap to defense, to call out Aadihr for his insensitivity. But then her gaze flicked to him, and she faltered. Aadihr wasn’t malicious—at least not intentionally. His words carried an edge, but his aura lacked the patterns of malice. She could tell he was trying to tease. To deflect the tension with humor, maybe? And yet... it didn’t sit right with her.

Why would he say that? What was he hoping to accomplish?

Azzie’s gaze shifted from the others to Aadihr. His usual deadpan humor danced on the edges of his expression, but beneath it was that guarded, analytical air she’d come to recognize. He was watching them—watching her. Her heart twisted in two directions: one side defensive, ready to snap at him for the way he seemed to be stirring things; the other desperately wanting to understand him, to believe he hadn’t meant anything hurtful. She liked him too much to assume the worst. This isn’t what I wanted...

“I didn’t realize this was an interrogation,” Azzie finally said lightly, the sarcasm biting at the edges of her words before she could stop herself even as she tried to lighten the mood. She laughed, hoping to break the tension, her gaze turning toward Aadihr with a thin smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Should I grab a datapad to take notes for you, or are we good?”

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to refocus. This was supposed to be a celebration, after all. She couldn’t let one awkward encounter ruin the night. Or at least, she would try not to. “Alright,” she said, addressing the group with a more genuine smile. “Anyone else hungry? Let’s find something to eat before I keel over!”

She didn’t wait for an answer, turning to head off.




 
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Outfit: Casual Attire
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike


It caused Azurine some distress, and Zaiya put her guards up, becoming a grey outline hiding her aura, but the probe was worth it.

Aadihr allowed himself to relax. You could learn volumes from the micro expressions of one's aura when getting a reaction from them - and Aris appeared to be an earnest and friendly youth. His priority was on Zaiya, and that also spoke to his virtue. By all accounts, Aadihr's worries were assuaged regarding the 'son', which bode well for the father. No tension at the comparison, or suspicion at the probe. It was unlikely that Kahlil mistreated Aris or any others in private.

To the best of his knowledge, despite the history Aadihr had caught secondhand that began his research, Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble appeared to be more or less beyond reproach since joining the Jedi - just hailing from an unfortunate circumstance himself. Aris's reaction was the final piece of the investigation. That made One Jedi Master he could thoroughly trust. One to turn to if others abused their position. The knowledge that the core of the NJO was indeed uncorrupted brought a weight off of Aadihr's chest, one that had felt crushing for entirely too long.

Aadihr did feel some remorse at abruptly disturbing both Zaiya and Azzie, but this had been the singular best chance to catch Aris off-guard, to get an honest reaction if he was otherwise dishonest - which he appeared to be anything but.

Zaiya's tone held an edge. She likely felt his suspicion - and took some offense to the way he spoke, as was her right.

"True, it seems the only invisible danger here are the flames and my hasty words," Aadihr replied, conceding to whatever impression they had of him after his gambit.

Admittedly, Zaiya also sounded prickly about the boyfriend comment. Had he misread their aura? He only meant to tease the young couple somewhat, but the surprise and then pleased waves from Aris had Aadihr wondering if they were making porg-eyes at each other without actually having discussed their feelings before?

Aadihr had been denied that era of youth, sadly, so he would refrain from making any more assumptions, especially considering the hurt it seemed to inflict on Azurine.

“I didn’t realize this was an interrogation,”

Aadihr bit his tongue and nodded. Now was not the time to defend his pointed comment and he doubted Azzie would like what she heard if he opened up to her about it.
Aadihr tried to help lighten the mood, raising his hands in a mock defensive gesture, though his heart still felt heavy despite the relief. "I'm good, I just let my mouth move faster than my brain, that's all"

He knew the Fool facade wasn't very believable at the moment, but it was all he could muster. He hoped this could be just a slight blotch on an otherwise enjoyable evening for her and her friends.

Aadihr felt guilt at risking Azurine's friendship to soothe his own paranoia. He had let his habits from solitude impact her. He shut himself inwards, swallowing any words he may have spoken thenceforth. The bumbling fool persona was all but shattered, so Aadihr replaced it with silence and guarded emotion, nodding acquiescense to Azzie's suggestion wordlessly and stifling his thoughts.

The flames all around must have him off-balance.
Something stung in both mind and body.


 


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TAG: Roman Vossari Roman Vossari


As they walked Roman talked about the Dantooine ball experience. Kuhbee had not heard about this incident, but he was not much for gossip. Many people didn't really want to gossip with a Wookie. Firstly they didn't even speak Basic but also since his exile the pup had been finding it difficult to make friends. It was so nice just to walk and talk with Roman. Kuhbee was quickly growing to really admire the fellow padawan.

"What happened? Did you escape?"

Kuhbee turned his head to the side and grinned at Roman. It was a slightly frightening gesture on a Wookie face but there was no aggression behind it.

[No Roman I did not escape. Can't you see I'm still there? ...... of course I escaped!] He started to laugh, which sounded like short low bursts of growls. He was of course teasing Roman slightly and it felt nice that the mood was lifted a little from Roman's self deprivation and Kuhbees joke.

[The Alliance military broke up the slaver ring. They brought me to Coruscant so I could meet the Jedi and I'm very lucky they decided to let me train with them.]





 
"You've been quiet," she pointed out, a thread of concern woven into her tone. The sounds of the festival faded into the background as their boots crunched beneath crisp snow. "We could head back and call it a night?"

Cora would feel a flutter of panic down their bond.

"Oh, no, no I'd rather..."

Makko turned to look at Cora. He could hear that she was worried. He was imagining that he could make everything perfect.

If life had taught him anything, it was that the personal moments and the strength he forged with those closest to him overcame the obstacles. He couldn't make any one moment perfect. He had been dancing around this too long.

He smiled at her, his tone becoming more even.

"... I would like to just have you all to myself for a few minutes. Up above the noise."

A few more strides and the crisp white would fall away to a gentle slope. The horizon could only just be seen as a dark blanket against the night's sky. Eve. A short distance made the fires below seem small. A sea of flickering lights that showed the fields below.

Makko drew to a stop, drawing her a little closer. Some of the worst moments in her life had been public. This one didn't need to be perfect, but it could be private. Theirs.
 

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Tags: Kuhbee Kuhbee


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Roman's eyebrows shot up, a flicker of confusion crossing his face as the translator relayed Kuhbee's initial response. 'No Roman I did not escape. The words tumbled out, a jumbled mess that his mind struggled to reconcile. For a brief, disconcerting moment, Roman wondered if the translator unit was malfunctioning. The thought of Kuhbee still being held captive sent a sharp pang of anxiety through him, until a series of low, rumbling growls followed. Then it clicked as the rest of the translation followed. Kuhbee was teasing him. A wave of amusement washed over Roman, replacing the confusion as he surveyed the Wookiee. That mischievous glint in Kuhbee's eyes was unmistakable.

"You know what I meant!" he exclaimed, a genuine laugh bubbling from his chest. He playfully slapped Kuhbee's arm, not enough to hurt, but enough to show his mirth. He was glad that the tension from earlier had dissipated.

As they moved to the next stall, Roman focused on the array of items before him, his fingers tracing the contours of each one. He listened as Kuhbee described how the Alliance had liberated him, his heart clenching with both gratitude and a renewed sense of injustice towards those who enslaved others. The image of the young Wookiee being brought to Coruscant and accepted into the Jedi Order warmed something within him.

"Now, I think the Jedi are lucky to have you. You are going to be a force of nature when you get older." Roman said, his gaze meeting Kuhbee's with unwavering confidence. He truly believed it. This Wookiee was strong, not just physically, but in spirit. He picked out a talisman, a small, intricately carved piece of wood that pulsed with a soft, comforting energy. It reminded him of his own, a symbol of protection from Ukatis. He quickly added another chain to it, enhancing its size, before paying the vendor.

Turning back to Kuhbee, Roman presented the talisman. "Here. Now you'll be protected, just like me." he said, pulling out his own talisman and holding it up for Kuhbee to see. "Fire and slavers won't be able to hurt you anymore." He knew it wasn't a foolproof shield, but the intention was there, a heartfelt offering of friendship and protection. Maybe with the talisman now, if the cub ever found himself in the same situation, he would find newfound strength within the talisman.

 

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"... I would like to just have you all to myself for a few minutes. Up above the noise."

A flutter of panic trickled to her. It died down just as quickly as it had come, punctuated by Makko's explanation.

"Oh."

Cora smiled. There wasn't much more she felt the need to say, content to focus on the quiet sounds of night and the feel of his warmth as they trekked slowly uphill. As much as she liked festivals, a soft moment away from the excitement with Makko never went unappreciated.

When they came to a stop, the merriment beneath them came into view from a new perspective. Above, stars twinkled against the inky void of space. Below, fires dotting the landscape mirrored the night sky, but warmer and more alive.

As Makko pulled her closer, Cora rested her head against his shoulder. The energy of the celebration had not left her, but it shifted into something more serene and private. Sometimes, she forgot the simple joy that came from just being around one another.

"It's beautiful," she whispered. "This was a good choice."

Makko Vyres Makko Vyres
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ATTIRE: Link
TAGS: Aiden Rennek Aiden Rennek

He shook his head.

"It's not what others expect of me that bothers me as much as what I know I must do," he said, rubbing a hand at his shoulder where he'd been stabbed by a lightsaber. "I must retake my home from those who destroyed my family and ensure the well-being of my people. I must. I owe that to them as a Valoren."

When Aiden spoke about people wanting to help, he couldn't help but stare at the ground. The people who had wanted to help him seemed to disappear or die. Annie was gone. Arhiaa was gone. Iston had died. Other people just disappeared from around him or never hung around long enough to form a bond with him which could lead to him leaning on them for help. But they didn't. They were always off on their own adventures. Cora was probably the closest he'd gotten to that and that was mostly because they shared a royal connection.

"It's easier to bond with people when those you bond with don't disappear after doing so."

His hand stopped rubbing at his shoulder and just rested against it. Ever since it had been reconstructed he found himself doing that when he was anxious about things, or just feeling not himself. It happened often. Fate had helped with that, but he'd left the droid back at his lodging because Fate wanted to get some self-diagnostics done and recharge himself. Besides, the little droid tended to get excited by fire.

People always judged, too. They might not actually say anything, but they judged. One thing he was good at feeling was the emotions of others. He might not be able to seek out people using the Force, but he often felt how those around him felt. Like now he could feel determination from Aiden to try and solve his problems, or at least get him to feel better about himself. But quite frankly, Caelan wasn't sure if feeling better would even help him. That was the teenager in him. Angst was kind of normal.

"I came to the Alliance to get help for my people but it's been a struggle just to get in a word with a Senator and the last time I did, she told me she wanted me to make a formal request for a meeting, and that they'd have to investigate the situation on Lazerian IV themselves, then they'd have to discuss it in the senate and decide on a course of action. That made me angry. My people are probably suffering right now!"

His hands balled into fists.

"I rarely get angry, but the way the Alliance runs is so inefficient! I understand the desire for representation. I get it. But sometimes things need to be done quickly, and when I, the Crown Prince, rightful King since my parents are dead, can't get help, get told they need to discuss and investigate, how am I supposed to feel? People will help me, the person, but they ignore me, the ruler! It's hard to trust anyone anymore. The few friends I have are great, but they have their own problems and they aren't a government. They can't go to war with me, at least not on our own.

"And what am I but always alone in the end? No family. Few friends. I can't do all this on my own."

 

"Sounds like you've had a complicated romantic life. What's even your type? People who can easily kill you? You have an interesting taste, to put it mildly."
"There was a girl. You know Eloise Dinn Eloise Dinn Eloise Dinn Eloise Dinn by any chance? If so, I don't think I have to describe her. She's not afraid to... be herself, if y'know what I mean. I thought we had a connection, but I think I'm just dumb? Jury is still out on that one."

Braze's expression twisted briefly at the mention of Eloise Dinn Eloise Dinn , his nose wrinkling as though catching a whiff of something unpleasant. "Eloise? Yeah, I remember her. Had a thing for alcohol, right? A real sandpaper attitude." He paused, then offered a lopsided smile. "You two? Cute couple, honestly."

His smile faded as he mulled over the question more seriously. "My type? I don't know... I've never really dated anyone. Not officially, anyway. I like Loomi Loomi , and I think she likes me, but…" He trailed off, searching for the right words. "Something feels… off? Like I'm missing a piece of the puzzle or asking the wrong questions. She's sweet, honest, and kind. A little aloof, maybe, but that's part of her charm. Still… it's complicated."

Braze leaned back, exhaling heavily as his thoughts wandered. "The funny thing about romance is that it only works if both people like each other that way. With Loomi, I care about her—a lot—but I'm not attracted to her the same way I've been with… others. It's different."

His brow furrowed as he delved deeper. "What do I even find attractive? Confidence, I guess. Someone with their own goals and drive. Eloise actually fits that pretty well, but I'm definitely not into her. There's just too much conflict in her personality—it feels more repulsive than anything else."


He trailed off again, tapping his fingers against his thigh as though counting off intangible ideas. "I love Loomi, but… maybe not the way I'm supposed to. Not romantically. I don't know. Maybe my 'type' doesn't even exist. I feel like what I want is what anyone would want: someone smart enough to hold a conversation, considerate and kind, confident and strong."

Braze sighed, his gaze distant now, as though staring at something only he could see. "It all just feels… messy. Confusing. Like I'm chasing something I don't even know how to define. What about you? What's your type?"

Braze didn't seem to mind opening up about the complexities of romance. In fact, it felt oddly refreshing, as if Diogo was one of the few people he could speak openly with about something so personal. The conversation felt less like a confession and more like unburdening a weight he hadn't realized he was carrying.

Still, Braze refrained from returning any affectionate gestures or showing signs of interest. Reciprocating with Diogo in his current state, he felt, would blur lines he wasn't comfortable crossing. It might even feel like taking advantage, and that was something he refused to do.
 
On the hills above the festival

"It's beautiful," she whispered. "This was a good choice."

His chest rose and fell in something that didn't quite break into a laugh. Her choice of words lifted his spirits, particularly knowing that she didn't quite realise how he took them.

Or she did and had worked this out some time ago. For a Jedi Shadow he could be terrible at keeping secrets.

He swallowed and let the moment stretch out. He had gone over this in his mind over and over. Yet here at the precipice it seemed like his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth.

"We need these moments because..."

Makko took a breath. His hands had started to tremble and it had nothing to do with the breeze. He had penned several possible speeches. They were even loaded into his implants and could scroll across his vision with a single thought. Instead he did what he almost always did and spoke the thoughts as they came to him.

"...the Galaxy isn't always kind to us. Doesn't matter if it's quiet and peaceful or loud and joyful and... It just matters that it's us."

Each word came a little more assured than the last and she would realise he was building to something.

"We didn't always fit together so well. I mean, you're... an actual princess. But we grew together."

Makko took half a step away and turned to face Cora. Even the distant, flickering flames were enough to show the tears welling in his eyes. He thought of how antagonistic they had been at first and how - through a lens misted by all the experiences that came between - that version of themselves was hard to recognise.

"I didn't even know love before you and now it's the most precious thing to me. Corazona, you mean everything to me. There will still be hard times to come and I want to face them together, with you. Forever."

Makko fumbled at his pocket and let out a brief nervous laugh. He slowly dropped to one knee before Cora and opened the ring box.

It was a simple white gold band. He didn't know if she would like the colour of the stone, but he hoped she would cherish what it represented. The kasha stone was a meditative focus. A single word etched into its surface: strength.

She was stronger and more resilient than anyone he knew, but in a moment of reflection the ring could bring her focus. It was important to Makko that this one had been made to lift her up, not hold her down.

"Will you marry me?"



Makko had never believed in marriage. Cora hadn't believed in marrying for love.

Here he was, on one knee and clinging on to just one single word. One word from the person who mattered more to him than anything else in the Galaxy. He had stumbled, he had rambled, but he had finally asked her.
 
Braze Braze

Braze's expression twisted briefly at the mention of Eloise Dinn, his nose wrinkling as though catching a whiff of something unpleasant. "Eloise? Yeah, I remember her. Had a thing for alcohol, right? A real sandpaper attitude." He paused, then offered a lopsided smile. "You two? Cute couple, honestly."

"Daamn strong opinions on her, huh? What did she do to you?" Diogo couldn't help but chuckle, thinking about the possibilities. "As for the alcohol part, I don't think I'm in a place to judge. She's rough around the edges, I'll admit, but there must be a reason for that." As far as the cute couple comment, Diogo just answered with a faint blush.

His smile faded as he mulled over the question more seriously. "My type? I don't know... I've never really dated anyone. Not officially, anyway. I like Loomi, and I think she likes me, but…" He trailed off, searching for the right words. "Something feels… off? Like I'm missing a piece of the puzzle or asking the wrong questions. She's sweet, honest, and kind. A little aloof, maybe, but that's part of her charm. Still… it's complicated."

Braze leaned back, exhaling heavily as his thoughts wandered. "The funny thing about romance is that it only works if both people like each other that way. With Loomi, I care about her—a lot—but I'm not attracted to her the same way I've been with… others. It's different."

Diogo paused, letting Braze work out his feelings with regards to Loomi.

"It sounds like you guys have a good thing going. No reason to force anything, right? I mean chit, I wish I had a friend like that."

He trailed off again, tapping his fingers against his thigh as though counting off intangible ideas. "I love Loomi, but… maybe not the way I'm supposed to. Not romantically. I don't know. Maybe my 'type' doesn't even exist. I feel like what I want is what anyone would want: someone smart enough to hold a conversation, considerate and kind, confident and strong."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were describing me," Diogo jested, jokingly jabbing his elbow at Braze.

Braze sighed, his gaze distant now, as though staring at something only he could see. "It all just feels… messy. Confusing. Like I'm chasing something I don't even know how to define. What about you? What's your type?"

"Yeah, sometimes there's no identifiable logic to these things. It's hard to accept what you don't understand."

That was young love for ya—where cringe, confusion, and hormones ruled the galaxy in melodramatic disarray.

Diogo considered the question. "Who the hell knows, man. In the looks department, doesn't really matter. I guess honesty is most important to me." Which was a tad ironic, given his secrecy around his brain soup craving nature. Then again, maybe that wasn't so weird. Maybe it was the most normal thing about him; everyone lived within their own contradictions. "Confidence, too. And someone who can break me down in all the right ways... and still accept me when they do. Is that too much to ask for? Probably."

Sensing Braze's relief and comfort, Diogo smiled softly. Though not making a conscious effort to move closer, Diogo felt himself care less about his personal space, letting his arm occasionally brush against Braze as they ambled across the crunchy snow, but casually, without intent. Just a friendly closeness; something that brought warmth in a galaxy that could sometimes feel so cold.
 
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Nestled against his shoulder, Cora did not take her eyes from the lights below until Makko began to speak. There was something unusual in his tone. It was not the slow, casual cadence he typically used with her

Her head shifted slightly, gaze tilting upward to watch him.

They sometimes spoke of the ills they'd faced, of how the galaxy had tried - and succeeded, for a time - in prying them apart. They were never supposed to work. Mismatched lives, mismatched personalities, but they'd come together all the same. Gradually, those jagged edges had reshaped themselves until they fit together.

There was still a bit of roughness to them. There would always be, but that friction now created warmth instead of irritation.

When Makko stepped away, Cora stood there, dumbfounded. Her chest rose and fell quickly, small clouds of breath drifting into the cold air. She had not expected this, and she had not expected the flurry of emotions she could not name to take hold of her when Makko dropped down on one knee.

"Will you marry me?"

Cora was silent for a few long moments. Stunned.

"I…I…"

To know that she was desired as his life partner was humbling.

"…You mean it?" Cora suddenly found her mouth too dry to speak in anything other than a halting whisper. "You…really want to marry me?" She asked in disbelief.

Proposals on Ukatis were far less romantic. For nobility, at least. Completed with a contract and a signature between two family patriarchs, it was more akin to a business deal than a union of love. At one point, that had been her reality, and the slate of her imagination was wiped clean of fairy tales.

They had spoken of the future. Their future. Never so directly, though - the implication of spending their lives together had been there, but neither of them had ever directly broached the subject of marriage. Cora had not dared to imagine what had unfolded before her, that she would be deserving of the care, dedication and love that Makko had showed her.

A gentle breeze filtered through the trees, amplifying her silence. The cold touch of wind was chased away by the warm tears dribbling down her cheeks.

Cora fell to her knees and threw her arms around Makko.

"Y-yes." She whispered against his neck, voice quivering and overcome with a joy so raw that she did not know how to express it in an elegant manner. "Yes, I believe I would like that very much."

Makko Vyres Makko Vyres

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"Daamn strong opinions on her, huh? What did she do to you?"

"Nothing, really." Braze shrugged, his tone neutral, as if brushing off the weight of old impressions. "She's like a 'cantina special'—comes on strong, leaves a burn, but you can't quite forget her. I don't think she's a bad person, just... someone who's figured out how to push people away before they can hurt her. Guess I can't blame her for that. Maybe I'm being unfair to her. People don't get rough edges for no reason... Just... not my kind of person, I guess."

"As for the alcohol part, I don't think I'm in a place to judge. She's rough around the edges, I'll admit, but there must be a reason for that."

"I've never had alcohol," Braze said simply, his tone matter-of-fact. The statement might have seemed odd, considering his earlier comment about a 'cantina special,' but he followed it with a small shrug. Tilting his head slightly, his brow furrowed in quiet thought. "Doesn't really seem worth it." The idea of clouding his mind when he relied so much on the Force struck him as a poor choice—one mistake, one moment of dulled focus, could cost far more than a drink was worth.

"It sounds like you guys have a good thing going. No reason to force anything, right? I mean chit, I wish I had a friend like that."

As the festival's glow came into view, the warm flicker of fires and the distant hum of laughter filled the cool night air. Braze slowed his pace slightly, his gaze drifting toward the vibrant scene ahead before shifting back to Diogo. "I could be that friend for you," Braze offered softly in reply.
"I can be brutally honest and blunt if that's what you need," he added, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were describing me," Diogo jested, jokingly jabbing his elbow at Braze.

"Oh, I don't know... you seem awfully self-deprecating. Confidence might not be your strong suit after all... or perhaps it's the 'liquid courage' talking..." Braze smirked, the tease delivered with just enough lightness to keep it playful. "But hey, if you're trying to sell yourself as 'the perfect type,' you're off to a rough start."

"Confidence, too. And someone who can break me down in all the right ways... and still accept me when they do. Is that too much to ask for? Probably."

"You don't need a lover... you need a master... Or a drill sergeant." Braze grinned, leaning into the quip with a smirk. "Someone to bark orders and whip you into shape... "
 

OBJECTIVE: Market
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Maybe she was handling it better than Korra or others would, but Efret was a woman made almost entirely of smiles and spite—instead of the oft-thought of kind driven by anger and hate of others, hers had always been rooted in a great love for herself.

The desire to spite her genes, for one, was a great motivator. Though she was Deafblind, she wanted to prove to all the worlds that she could still take care of herself and be a fantastic archeologist to boot.

For two, she had developed a great aversion to the Darkness she had been saddled with against her will. She would, and had, done much to cleanse herself, enduring as stalwartly as she could throughout the process. Her vision were gone for now, but Efret knew she had to remain vigilant. There was a new pathway for the Darkness to try to corrupt her: she had lost an attachment that had meant nearly more than life itself to her.

The hole Elias had left in her heart through no fault of his own was vacuous. She had to be ready to resist the Dark side should it try to fill in for him. Today, being prepared looked like being here, being out with people and shopping despite lusting so strongly after isolation, not pretending to be okay but trying to call back some semblance of her typical personality.

Efret fell into step beside Korra as she began leading the way to the smithy's stall. Excitement tugged her legs forward as dread tugged them back. The resulting pace that the Jedi adopted for herself was thus rather slow, unsure. It was a little relieving that she could pretend that her vision was primarily to blame for her sluggishness.

"Are you from here or in town for the festivities?" She had learned long ago to not guess based off physical appearance from where one hailed. Her companion didn't strike her as Epicanthix but that didn't mean that she wasn't a local. Efret also hadn't noticed the Mandalorian clan signet patch on Korra's shirt.

 

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"You think I wouldn't be getting you a gift?" Kahlil chuckled lightly. He wasn't much for giving people gifts, but his family? He'd absolutely spoil them with it. Valery was certainly among that list. Kahlil idly shifted Yvaine in his hands, though their daughter was already quite asleep. "I'm only going to keep you guessing on what the gift is, though. No spoilers here. You'll find out when we get home."

Valery Noble Valery Noble
 

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