Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Faction Grand Jedi Ball - Open to Jedi + Jedi Sympathizers


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Dress: Link
Tags: Orion Pavond Orion Pavond

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Oooooooh, that makes sense.” Katherine nodded her head, though her attention seemed to wander off as Orion claimed Shan was the more charming and smarter one. “I mean, he is a doctor. Training to be one? Same thing, very smart.

Katherine fell into thought, bringing a hand up to tap at her chin. “I dunno about charming though, I’d have to ask Colette.Would that be a good idea? Didn’t they break up or something?

The Padawan’s mind seemed lost in that train of thought, but at least had enough awareness to hear Orion’s question.

You’ll find it’s Green bean thank you very much, not gills. And we were Padawans together, taught by the same Master.” Again, Katherine’s eyes lingered away from Orion, an unfettered look of wistfulness on display.

…I miss those days.

Ex-Padawan I suppose, he’s a fancy-pants Knight now.

Within a blink of an eye, Katherine’s mood shifted and she was once again pointing a finger at the Mirialan before her. “For the record, I would make an awful dance partner. I have bad legs.” The Padawan looked down at said limbs. “Bad, bad legs…

 

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Kahlil smiled faintly and nodded his head. After the party, some time, they could see if Azurine was capable of using the runes. And teaching her the history of them, no less. It was important to understand after all. He gave a nod to Aadhir, with a patient as ever smile on his face. For now, he kept his expression calm as he listened in. It seemed Azurine and Aadhir were already fast friends.

Valery Noble Valery Noble | Aadihr Lidos Aadihr Lidos | Azurine Varek Azurine Varek
 
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Objective I: The Dance, Don't ???
Mahsa Mahsa
Mahsa stared back at him. Wide eyed, full of fear. Despite what others probably though, he hated seeing her like that. Abhorred it, really. But the more she looked at him like that. Fear, hate, disgust, whatever, the better off she was. Or at least that's what Ayhan had been telling himself, over and over again like some kind of mantra, for the last two standard years, six months, and thirteen rotations... But then her eyes softened, two golden orbs radiating warmth like twin suns, and he almost gave up on the lie.

"D-Do you remember the stories I told you back at the C-Cage…?" Ayhan nodded slowly. The were probably one of the few good memories the Firronthix had, though he could hardly recall any of them now. He did, however, remember sitting at the fireside, listening to her recount one of her many stories again until one of them decided it was time to sleep, and the watches to begin.

"You have your fairy tale, Mahsa," Ayhan said, without the usual vitriol. Instead, he just sounded tired, as he sat up straight again, pressing his back into the balcony railing. "You're a Jedi. And a good one. Or at least, better than me," the Firronthix admitted as the words he'd shouted at her when they first arrived at the Temple echoed in his head. "You're leading a life of adventure, fighting for others just like in those stories. Dara would be happy for you, I think."

That was a name Ayhan hadn't heard since he'd first met Mahsa. They never spoke about it since. He'd never expected to. Maybe she did it all for her. Why she lived. And in a way, Ayhan envied her the resolve to do so.

But it still left another question unanswered. The important question. "That doesn't explain why you..." He searched for the right words. "Why you stick around me." It was a failure, but maybe it still got the point across.
 

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Ran sipped her drink. She agreed with Gil. He told no lies, and so Ran longed for that future as well. But in the back of her mind Ran knew there was no such thing as a perfect galaxy because the idea of perfection was subjective. Harmony, prosperity, and peace were transitory periods in galactic history. The Jedi would remain, but the worlds around them would change. Still the Knight did not let that jade her and continued to hope for a better future where the impossible and improbable could become. For us, and for all those who will come after. The words echoed in her mind. A simple but significant notion. Ran committed it to memory.

“You’re a good man, Master Horn.” She said directly, because not all Jedi believed they were.

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Ran believed Gil was right about the young and their small rebellions. She could see the tiny moments in her own padawan, Sazo Vass Sazo Vass , but she felt lucky. Ran had experienced no traditional childhood and while Sazo was a teenage girl, Ran regarded her as a kindred spirit. Not unlike Ran, she seemed to have the temperament of a soldier. Ran believed it to be the influence of the strong Korunnai on her homeworld of Haruun Kal.

Ran’s mind shifted to images of Naboo. The ones that Gil described and the ones she’d only seen on classic holofilms or on one of the many galactic news broadcasts. Naboo sounded and seemed beautiful and the way Gil spoke of the journey to Shiraya only made her desire to see it grow.

“If it is as wonderful as you say, I will see it soon. I’ve never been to Naboo, and I’d like to see it in my lifetime.” She explained.

“Why Selvaris?” She mused for a moment. “It is remote, it is of little interest to no one, and it is, in my opinion, one of the best hiding places closest to the core. While I don’t mean for the Jedi to hide from the conflicts of the galaxy, I believe we all need a place of respite from it,” She answered. “An honest place unburdened by government, armies, enemies and technology. Somewhere we can indulge in our own Jedi culture, honoring our past and creating our future through unity, creativity, and intentionality.” She continued. “Selvaris is the place to do it. It is a clean start. The enclave we’ve been building there is a blank canvas, hidden in a great jungle, the only influence it will hold belongs to the Jedi and the beings who make up our order.”

“It may not be as grand as the Shiraya Temple but the halls and longhouses there are a humble and hopeful sight. Should you find yourself in the system, I would enjoy seeing you there.”
Ran said and meant it. Any Jedi that visited Selvaris was a contribution to the culture of the Enclave and what was being built.

As she finished her drink, she found the dance floor’s siren song calling her name again. “This isn’t much of a segue but would you honor me with a dance, Master Horn?”


 

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Cora tilted her head and lifted her a brow as if to say; fair enough.

The other brow went up at Iris' assessment of the dancing pair. Powerful bonds shared between Jedi were not unheard of - Cora had developed one with Makko - but true dyads seemed rare.

"Aris is a good kid. I don't think that he'd do anything to intentionally hurt her."

Intentional being the operative word. Being a teenager was hard enough without the intervention of the Force.

Her brow smoothed as she reached for another sip of her wine.

"I don't want to see her hurt, either. Or him. Or any of them. Wish I could just…wrap ‘em all up in a blanket and keep them safe from a galaxy that wants to do them harm.”

Cora pressed her frown to the rim of her glass. The life of a Jedi was not nearly as glamorous as the holos made it out to be.

Iris Arani Iris Arani
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OBJECTIVE ONE: THE DANCE
Interacting with: Aris Noble Aris Noble


"We're both still a ways from proper royalty?" Zaiya echoed, her laugh bubbling up as Aris tugged her effortlessly back into another twirl. The music swelled around them, and she let herself be caught up in the motion, though her brows furrowed just slightly at his phrasing.

"Last I checked," she teased, a playful smirk tugging at her lips, "I'm just a humble Knight in training, not royalty, Your Highness."

Her voice held a lightness, but there was no masking the whirlwind of emotions stirring within her. The way Aris had been looking at her -- his gaze soft, almost mesmerized -- sent her thoughts spinning faster than their dance steps. Even with her muted mental shields up, she felt it in the way his presence brushed against hers, muted yet impossibly warm, and it left her both flustered and giddy.

It didn't help that her bioluminescence betrayed her entirely. Soft waves of pink and gold shimmered over her mottled skin, glowing faintly with every flicker of her shy, giddy delight.

Then, just as she thought she had a handle on it, Aris lifted her effortlessly into a spin. Zaiya's breath hitched, the world blurring around her before he brought her back down to solid ground, their feet finding the rhythm again as the steps carried them across the dance floor.

The heady mix of his presence, the music, and the moment made her feel light as air, as if the Force itself was sweeping her along. She could barely hold back the grin spreading across her face, her voice rising above the melody, "Oh trust me I won't --"

And then, of course, she did.

Her foot caught the very tip of his shoe, the misstep just enough to jolt her from her momentary reverie. Her eyes widened in alarm as she realized what she'd done.

"Oh blast!!" she blurted, her glowing colors stuttering into a frantic swirl of amused but embarrassed teals and corals. Well, so much for her bragging rights of doing a winning streak. She wasn't honestly upset about it, more that her pride was stung and now she had to admit defeat.

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Her voice had grown softer as time went on, the light tinges of amber that sparkled against the navy blue and silver streaks in her hair gave away her own nervousness. Sitting here together reminded her of those nights at the fireside, aware that if she leaned in just a little bit their shoulders would brush—

Burden.
She stiffened as the memory echoed in her ears.
"You have your fairy tale, Mahsa."

Lips pressed into a faint line as she listened,a metallic taste slowly filling her mouth when the Kazelrrian bit the inside of her cheek in a desperate attempt to override the sting forming in her eyes. He wasn’t wrong.

From the moment their paths crossed with the Jedi it felt like fortune itself chose to smile upon her. She had blossomed within the Temple, thrived under their guidance… it was impossible to miss it, not when it clung to her figure in the form of a very pretty dress and the jewelry she wore tonight.

Golden eyes quietly trailed back into the ballroom, the shimmering hues of the Lovalla acting as a beacon that drew her gaze towards Zaiya Ceti Zaiya Ceti and Aris Noble Aris Noble as they continued to dance. They looked so happy together…

"That doesn't explain why you..." It was a hopeless dream, Mahsa knew as much, but she would’ve given everything to share a fraction of the joy that radiated from the pair with him. "Why you stick around me."

"T-that's…" The words caught against her throat, the heaviness carried in them threatening to choke her if Mahsa dared to speak them outloud.

A deep inhale filled her lungs as her head tilted back, resting against the rails as her eyes shifted to the starry night above. It was mesmerizingly beautiful, the artificial skies of the Cage would never compare to the real thing… but all she felt was a gaping hole inside her chest, a lingering emptiness threatening to swallow her whole.

"It’s b-because I care, Ayhan…" Sometimes she wished Glorii Te would’ve granted her species the same courtesy he’d shown the Firronthix. "... I always have."


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Ayhan Ayhan
 
"Thank you for the save, friend. I think that man has it out for me."

"Not a problem my friend. Maybe he's just having a bad day." Aiden said with a small smile as he patted his friend on the shoulder again. As they left their company he let his friend go and walked beside him. "I haven't had a drink of alcohol before that I can recall, but I hear it can inhibit your senses." The Padawan said with a small smiled. "I also here it makes you forget and have some fun." Aiden spoke again with a laugh.

"How are you, my friend? I haven't seen you in quite some time."

"Oh man....." Aiden said with a nervous laugh. "We'd need a few hours to catch up with everything I've been up too. First starters I can say I'm doing rather well right now. And I apologize that I've been absent for a long time. I've been dealing with Jedi affairs and family drama." Aiden said without revealing too much, at least right now. He didn't want to damper the evenings festivities with his own personal drama. He felt that could be for a later time.

"It is good to see you my friend. How are you doing?" Aiden inquired looking over to his friend sincerely.

Roman Vossari Roman Vossari
 



Tags: Ran Serys Ran Serys

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Selvaris did sound like an intriguing place to Gil, and Ran's words carried weight with them. As Jedi, it was their duty to defend those in need and do what had to be done, risking life and soul to protect the values of the Galactic Alliance, and the innocent of the galaxy. To have a place to withdraw to, to regroup in peace and solitude with limited contact with the rest of the galaxy? That sounded like a good way to rest the mind and body, something many Jedi, Gil included, had difficulty doing.

"The Shiraya Temple is a beautiful place," Gil agreed, a wry smile on his face, "but it is sometimes too much. How do you appreciate the beauty of other worlds when you are drowned day in and day out with the beauty of Naboo? Wonderful people the Naboo, and they love their architecture. Something simple...perhaps I will take you up on that offer to visit Selvaris."

As the music began to pick up, and Ran asked for Gil to join her on the dance floor, he could only nod. He finished his own drink, the warmth of the whiskey familiar on his tongue and throat now and placed it down on a nearby table. Almost the second it touched the table a droid walking by grabbed it and added it to a pile of similar discarded items. Gil might enjoy some simple time on Selvaris, but he could not deny how nice it was to have modern technology to make life easier.

"Certainly," Gil said, extending his hand for Ran to take as they moved towards the dance floor. "I must warn you though, I am not all that experienced in the field of dance."
 


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Oh right, she wasn't royalty. She was right that he was certainly a ways from proper royalty, as he wanted to be. He- no. No he pushed those thoughts away, refusing to let any sort of somber or negative thought bring down just how much fun he was having now with Zaiya. He spun in the twirl with her, laughing some as he did. The blur of the world, the music in the background, the flutter of her hair.

It was fun. Pure and simple.

Then, he felt it. The misstep. He barked out a laugh, especially at her flustered expression before he spun her away, hand in hand ever still just before pulling her right back. Close, again, but this time with him just smiling with far to much smugness to it. He'd won the bet. "Spoke too soon, huh?" He teased over the music, just before the song came to it's natural conclusion.

He kept her close for a moment longer before stepping back to offer a slight bow. "Thank you for the dance, madam. It was such fun I'll wave the repair bill for my poor shoe." Aris stood straight up again, smirking. "Shall we get our drinks now?"

Zaiya Ceti Zaiya Ceti
 
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Objective I: The Dance, Tell A Story
Mahsa Mahsa
"T-that's…" Mahsa's voice trailed off, words catching in her throat like a stone. And then there was silence. Only moments, as Mahsa took a deep breath and looked up to the glittering sky with Ayhan like they used to. Only moments, but it felt like eons of quiet, oppressive darkness. Ayhan had begun to think the Kazellrian might not answer before she said: "It's b-because I care, Ayhan... I always have."

The silence returned, the stars above an audience to the quietude, disrupted only by the sounds of the merriment coming from the ball.

"I have a story for you this time," Ayhan said after a while. He took a breath, soft and slow. "There once was a great big box, and in this great big box, there was a forest. And in this forest in a box were many wolves. And these wolves fought each other constantly. They fought each other because the forest in the box was built by a cruel man who wanted to sell the wolves as fighting animals. And to make sure he sold them for the best prices he could, he didn't give them enough food to force them to fight, so only the strongest ones would survive. Not only did he not feed them enough, but he made monsters chase them, day and night. But the wolves were clever, and they learned that there was strength in numbers, and so they formed packs.

"In one of these packs in the forest in the box, were two particular wolves. One had silver fur, and one had brown fur. Now, these two wolves were very close to each other. The hunted together, fought shoulder to shoulder with each other. And in the quiet moments when they were not fighting, they looked up at the stars together and tried to imagine what was out there, beyond their forest. Beyond the box built by a cruel man.

"But one day, the brown wolf got sick. And the pack would not help the brown wolf because they wanted to keep the brown wolf's shares of food for themselves. And so the silver wolf hunted for them both. And when it came time to fight, the silver wolf did his best to fight for them both, but each time he did he got weaker and weaker. There wasn't enough food for them both, and every fight left the silver wolf injured.


"So the next time the cruel man set a monster to hunt the wolves, the silver wolf could not fight it alone. He made a mistake, and just when it looked like the monster was going to eat him, the brown wolf leapt in front of the silver wolf, and let the monster eat her instead."

Ayhan paused. With a shaky breath he closed his eyes and focused on the cold stone against his back. The chill on the breeze, the rustling leaves. Anything to stop the beading tears at the corner of his eyes from falling.
 
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Lightsaber: X | Talisman: X | Armor: X | Training: X | Casual: X
Tags: Aiden Porte Aiden Porte


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Roman chuckled, Aiden's admission about his lack of experience with alcohol was amusing. Roman had only ever partaken in the finest wines at formal dinners, but this particular beverage he tried tonight was undeniably potent. He had to agree, though, it did seem to loosen inhibitions and foster a sense of merriment. At least, it had for him until a few minutes ago.

He listened intently as Aiden explained his long absence, a mixture of Jedi business and family troubles. It had been far too long since they'd last seen each other. Roman made a mental note – a hazy one, thanks to the alcohol – to check in on Aiden later. Hopefully, he'd remember in the morning. Something about his friend's words, his slightly nervous laugh, hinted at deeper, unspoken issues.

Aiden's question pulled Roman from his thoughts. The alcohol, still buzzing through his system, compelled him to be completely honest, a luxury he felt comfortable with when it came to Aiden. A sigh escaped his lips, laced with a hint of melancholy. "Truthfully, friend," Roman began, his voice tinged with a sadness he couldn't entirely conceal, "I haven't seen or heard from Anneliese in quite some time." He knew she was safe, undergoing rigorous training to improve herself, but even knowing that, a hollowness remained. "It feels like a piece of me is missing, Aiden. Empty, even."
 
"Unique. We all have our secrets, darling. But that means a lot coming from someone like you."​

"Aww, I'm not that special," she said, though she basked in his compliments all the same. Force knew she was starved for praise these days.

"Do you actually agree, or are you just saying that?"

"Look, I hate schools, academies, colleges, institutions of higher learning, institutions in general, whatever. But I guess they have a purpose, even though it's only because people are dumb." The alcohol was talking more than she was at this point, though she did have strong feelings on the subject. Once she was knighted, she wasn't taking on any students of her own, that was for damned sure. She'd be a horrible teacher. In fact, if she could get away with never setting foot inside a classroom again for the rest of her life, she'd be grateful.

"Not just a joker," he said with a laugh. "I won't make that mistake. I'd hate to get on your bad side."

"I promise I won't hurt you," she tried to assure him while leaning down just to meet his eyes.

"Ah, so I won't be invited to your Knighting Ceremony, then?" Diogo teased with a mock pout. "Is my dancing that bad?"

"I mean, you could," she muttered, still distracted. There was a feeling of deja vu to all this. Like that time she danced with that other boy, the one whose name she had already forgotten, her memory blurred by a boozy haze. Why hadn't she ever called him up again?

Why did everyone always leave her? Even her master was too busy to make time for her anymore... Feth that. She couldn't stand most people, and yet here she was upset because she had no friends. What was wrong with her?

"Your dancing is fine." The waltz had ended. Yet Eloise stood still in front of Diogo. Her mood had shifted, darkened. It was at odds with the upbeat song that filled the silence afterward.

"Show me how the Vonnuvi women really dance? I'll try to keep up."

One corner of Eloise's mouth quirked up in a smirk. "Be real with me," she told him, almost a plea. "Don't just say what you think I want to hear. Be honest. I'll always be real with you."

She did dance, then, but not like a Vonnuvi woman. Not entirely, anyway. She stomped to the beat like a Zaathri, twirled like a Chaldean, swayed like an Vonnuvi Ithorian. But the way she danced was all hers, all Eloise Dinn.

 
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"Chief? You ok?"

Thirdas had remained kneeling even as Roman walked out on his attempt at reconciliation, whisked away by one of his friends and leaving the penitent soldier as he was. Some five minutes later, he was finally roused by the familiar voice in his ear. He did not provide an answer, but he slowly picked himself off the floor and turned towards the tranquil view. He stepped towards the guard rail and placed both palms flat against it.

The Black Lion was a creature ever torn between heaven and hell; he was the noble soldier — the guardian of the innocent — but he was also wrathful vengeance, a berserker capable of monstrous violence against perceived enemies. Out of all Heavenshields, his was the most volatile of tempers and explosive of furies, and he knew it. His military training had instilled in him the discipline required to distill his wrath into an instrument of precision, giving him the focus to unleash it all at once when the situation called for it. But it wasn't enough.

He needed an emotional anchor with which to ground himself. In his youth he'd had his family to lean on growing up not understanding his rage, but once he enlisted with the Antarian Rangers and left Midvinter, their interactions had been sparse. The unconditional love of Nida Perl Nida Perl had sustained him through his early career, but with her self-exile he was left with nobody. Even Tulan Kor Tulan Kor was no longer there to guide him.

"Nida," he roared into the Dantooine night, fingers grasping the edges of the guard rail with increasing pressure. "Where are you?!" The marble crumbled as his longing and disappointment in himself boiled over, and in his anger he tore the betrothal ring from his finger and closed his fist around it, readying to throw it away in a moment of despair.

He couldn't do it. The memory of her was all he had left, save this shiny yet plain object of their love. Without it, he would have nothing. She was the last remaining reminder of the person he wanted to be, and without this token of their union she'd be gone too.

Instead, Thirdas kissed his clenched fist, placed it against his heart, then proceeded to put the ring back on. Sighing, he finally replied:

"I'm ok. Let's get back to work."
 
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OBJECTIVE ONE: THE DANCE
Interacting with: Aris Noble Aris Noble


Zaiya's cheeks puffed out dramatically, her face a swirl of cyan and gold hues that pulsed with playful indignation. She placed a hand on her hip, fixing Aris with an over the top pout that barely concealed her grin.

"Oh, how gracious of you, Your Highness," she quipped, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm. "Such generosity, sparing me the financial ruin of one slightly scuffed shoe. Truly, I'm in your debt."

But despite her sass, a grin tugged at her lips, and she reached out to take his arm after his bow. "Come on, Prince Smug. I'm parched, and your winnings can wait until after I've had a drink."

With that, Zaiya gave his arm a little tug, her eyes sparkling with humor as they left the dance floor.

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OB1: THE DANCE
TAG: Eloise Dinn Eloise Dinn

"Aww, I'm not that special"

Diogo paused, his gaze steady as he met her eyes. "I think you are," he said simply, without embellishment. There was no need for further explanation—it was just a fact, to him, irrefutable.

"Look, I hate schools, academies, colleges, institutions of higher learning, institutions in general, whatever. But I guess they have a purpose, even though it's only because people are dumb."

"People are dumb," he agreed. "But I think it's deeper than that. People just don't try." He thought about his own struggles, and why joining the Jedi seemed like his only option to overcome his brain-slurping Anzati fate. "Institutions give people the permission to try, to be more than they think they can be, especially when they won't—or cant—give that to themselves."

"I promise I won't hurt you"

"I trust you," he said gently, meeting her eyes with his own. "Though I haven't forgotten about the whole walking into me thing."

Diogo felt her attitude change and her mood shift. He couldn't make heads or tails of it. Was there loneliness and uncertainty behind her eyes? She sure seemed as if she had a habit of pushing people away—a defense mechanism, maybe. Or did he just say something wrong?

"Be real with me," she told him, almost a plea. "Don't just say what you think I want to hear. Be honest. I'll always be real with you."

"I promise to be real with you," he said, the seriousness of the moment sobering him a little. "Ask, and I will always answer honestly."

As they danced, he kept his eyes trained on her. Her dancing conveyed it all: the sui generis nature of Eloise. It was just her being herself—the very thing that drew Diogo to her.
 
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There was a time still vividly remembered in her memories where they had found comfort even in the silence, calmed by the presence of one another as they’d huddled over a campfire. Perhaps that’s why the silence currently stretched over them was almost maddening. It gnawed at her insides, made her stomach flip in ways Mahsa didn’t appreciate or cared for, and it was only rivaled by the deafening thrumming of Mahsa’s heartbeats against her ears.

He surprised the Kazelrrian just as she’d been thinking it might’ve been best to cut her losses while she was still technically ahead. Her shoulders had tenses in the moment, though it was impossible to know if it was due to her initial thought of leaving or suddenly hearing his voice, as spiraling waves of deep amber began to pool at the ends of her curls.

"A s-story…?" Vibrant streaks of citrine brightened her complexion, a sharp contrast to the hesitation in her voice.

Mahsa had always been the one to regale him with imaginary tales, the very ones from the book that had slowly morphed into whimsical blends of experience and imagination as she’d sought to keep Dara guessing every time. Never had the Firronthix shared one of his own… until now.

She listened without another sound as Ayhan spun his words, curious to know what type of story he had for her tonight.

It wasn’t long before her mind started to connect the dots as his tale continued, the Kazelrrian realizing this wasn’t something he’d made up on the spot to try and ease the awkward tension between them. He’d never spoken about his time in the Cage before her arrival and, while she had shared her own, Mahsa had never pried into it either.

Her mind knew there would be no happy ending to be found, and yet a small part of her had still hoped beyond hope that the brown wolf could’ve been saved. A mixture of navy blues and emphatic coppery streaks swirled around her curls as the story had continued, picking up the subtle ways his voice shook and strained on occasions.

The chill breeze that rustled through the balcony felt colder than the winds of Ilum, and the curious spark in her eyes had morphed into one of sorrow and concern as they studied every inch of his face. A hand hovered in the air for a fraction of a moment, almost as if she would reach out and touch him again, before being withdrawn back into the safety of her lap.

"S-She…" Her voice faltered against the conflicting whirlwind of emotions within her chest, unsure if he would’ve preferred for her to remain silent instead. "It s-sounds like the brown wolf really cared for the s-silver wolf a lot…"

And it was crystal clear that he had cared for her, too.


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Ayhan Ayhan
 
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Objective I: The Dance, Tell A Story
Mahsa Mahsa
Her hair, as always, was a swirl of colors. Navy blue and rusty copper fading in and out as Ayhan spun a not-so-fairy tale. He felt the air shift as Mahsa raised her hand, and he forcefully blinked, once, twice, thrice to clear the phantom tears at the corners of his eyes. "She did," Ayhan said, nodding gently and giving Mahsa a pained half-smile. His gaze drifted back towards the floor, and then up to glittering, warm lights of the ball. Inside couples danced with each other. Ayhan could see Aris and Zaiya inside, spinning, laughing, with broad smiles like they'd never seen the horrors that Ayhan knew they had.

"I guess, the moral of the story is: when you care about someone, you're willing to hurt yourself, and them, to protect them." It truly was a cruel galaxy, wasn't it? "There's more to the story, though," Ayhan said, looking at Mahsa again. Or maybe through her. "If you want to keep going, that is."
 
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The pain that lingered behind those dark brown eyes spoke loudly about all the things Mahsa had been curious about, but hesitant to ask. He had cared for the brown wolf as much as she had for Dara, maybe even more…? Her eyes quickly shifted back to her hands and the ruffles of her dress, quietly biting the inside of her cheek in an effort to distract her front he needling pain in her heart, before the answer to something she wasn’t ready to hear had the chance to reveal itself too.

"M-Mhmm…" It was all the agreement she could trust herself to produce as the Firronthix spoke, the true cruelness of the galaxy was a lesson neither had been fortunate enough to remain blissfully unaware about.

"There's more to the story, though." His words finally brought her gaze back to his face, though the look in his eyes made Mahsa question if he was speaking to her or someone else. "If you want to keep going, that is."

Logic told her this was enough, that attempting to soar closer to the sun would only get her burnt. Greed was always the undoing of those that wanted more than they should… "Y-Yeah, I d-do."


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Ayhan Ayhan
 
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