Public Hallowe'en on Necropolis

[Thelma Goth]

Hallowe'en is a pretty big deal for the tomb world of Dahrtag, better known as Necropolis. The planet holds an annual festival to ensure the spirits of the dead remain placated, engaging in festivities all night long. But evil lurks in the shadows, and it isn't angry ghosts one should necessarily fear...

Objective I: City of the Dead​

People from all over the galaxy travel to Necropolis to bury their dead. The planet is littered with graveyards and mausoleums, and the local culture is built around a fascination with the macabre. Remember lost loved ones, plan your own funeral, or just enjoy the gargoyle-festooned ambiance of the spookiest planet in the Core.

Objective II: All Hallow's Eve​

Tonight the hottest joint in town is the Danse Macabre, a glittering nightclub where both the rich and the poor mingle, wearing costumes to hide their identities. See a show, have a drink or two (or three), and dance the night away.

Objective III: Thelma's Tailoring​

Former Jedi Thelma Goth now runs a tailoring business. Stop by to request all manner of clothing, including imbued items. She won't judge your fashion sense. (But I most certainly will when I have to sub it.)

Objective IV: BYOO​

There are, like, fifty of these Halloween themed threads. Might as well make one where you can do whatever you want (within reason).

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Black Masquerade dress

Valery stepped into the dimly lit nightclub, her heels clicking softly against the polished floors as she made her entrance. The Danse Macabre was alive with a pulsating energy, the crowd's murmurs blending with the rhythmic thump of music that filled every corner of the room. Lights flashed in hues of crimson and violet, casting ethereal shadows that shifted and danced along the walls. Masks adorned every face, turning each patron into a creature of mystery, blending the mundane with the fantastical.

Dressed in a fitted, inky black gown that hugged her figure, Valery's dark attire seemed almost to absorb the low lights around her. Delicate lace patterns were woven into the fabric, swirling across her bodice and waist, accentuating her curves with a subtle elegance. Her mask, a striking creation of black and silver lace, framed her eyes like the wings of a raven, its intricate details catching the occasional flash of light. The mask concealed just enough of her face to lend her an air of dangerous allure, while leaving her crimson lips and intense gaze visible beneath. She wore a simple, dark pendant around her neck, the polished gemstone catching the ambient light, giving her an aura of quiet mystery.

As she navigated through the crowd, her amber eyes took in the revelers — some laughing, some whispering in corners, others lost in the trance of the music as they moved together on the dance floor. The costume she wore allowed her to melt into the crowd, blending seamlessly with both the rich and the common folk who mingled together here. It was rare for her to be able to walk among people without being instantly recognized, but here, in the anonymity of the mask, she was free to simply be a presence, an enigma among the other shadowed figures.

Approaching the bar, she ordered a dark, smoky cocktail that matched the atmosphere, lifting the glass delicately to her lips. The strong, bitter taste grounded her senses, a contrast to the sweet undertones of perfume and spiced wine that filled the air around her. She let her gaze wander, scanning the room as she sipped, feeling the dark, lively energy of the crowd pulsing all around her.

For tonight, she wasn't the Jedi Grandmaster or a figure of authority. She was simply a woman in a mask, drawn to the Danse Macabre by the whispers of mystery, mingling with strangers in a world that felt both familiar and unknown. Somewhere, in the dark corners of the room, she sensed an unusual presence, a faint tremor in the Force. But tonight, she was content to let it be, if only for a while.

Open​

 

[Marya Werdegast]

POV: Byron Devorak, top enforcer of crime boss Han Werdegast
Location: En route to Danse Macabre
Tags: Valery Noble
Mentioned: Alicio Organa

Neon lights shone pink and blue on sleek black paint and tinted windows. The limo darted through the foggy streets of Necropolis, carrying County Treasurer Han Werdegast to the Danse Macabre for what was supposed to be a night of carefree pleasure. Byron suspected it would be more about keeping up appearances.

He sat across from Han, watching the passing scenery and trying not to look directly at his boss. Two burly bodyguards perched on either side of him, one dressed as a killer clown and the other a cartoon rabbit. Byron was costumed as the Baron, his face painted to resemble a skull, while Han wore a simple black mask over his eyes. The boss had been unusually quiet this evening, clutching his cane across his lap in gloved fists. When he spoke it was sudden, his voice puncturing the silence inside the limo like a dagger through a curtain.

"Laveaux's forces are scattered and headless—I have you to thank you for that, Byron. But now we must focus our efforts on Marya, before this gets out of hand."

Byron nodded his head, feeling numb. He'd seen Han through hard times and missteps, but nothing quite like this. This was bad. Marya had played them all for fools. Han's own daughter, working against him. And to think they all thought she had changed...

"What about Organa?" Byron asked.

"The new Chancellor will be busy with other concerns, I imagine. As time passes, he will forgive and forget, as all mortals do." As the Danse Macabre came into view, Han rested his cane against the floor. "One more thing, Byron—I have a gift for you."

Byron blinked. He never asked for anything but to serve. Han knew that. So what could this gift possibly be?

"We'll talk more later," Han said with a smirk, keeping his enforcer in suspense. "For now, the night is ours."

The limo came to a stop just outside the entrance to the club. The bodyguards got out first, holding the door open for Han. Byron exited next, adjusting his costume. Music shook the ground beneath his feet, bass-heavy, infused with pulsating energy. His brow furrowed. Something seemed off.

Gunfire ripped through the air. Byron felt a shot tear through the edge of his Cloak before he hit the pavement. People screamed and ran for cover around him. A couple feet away the killer clown lay dead, a hole blown through his head. Han was face down on the ground, dark blood soaking through the fine fabric of his gray suit.

The surviving guard had taken cover behind a pillar and was firing back at the unseen shooter. Byron grabbed Han and hauled him back into the limo. "Get us out of here!" he shouted to the driver.

Another hail of gunfire, this time coming from the opposite direction, shattered the windshield. Byron heard the driver cry out in pain and stayed down, shielding Han's body with his own.

For a few seconds the shooting stopped. All Byron could hear was Han's labored breathing and the pounding of his own heart. If his Cloak hadn't been damaged, he would have teleported them both home by now...

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Black Masquerade dress

Valery was about to lose herself to the ambiance of the Danse Macabre, letting the night's murky allure pull her in as she sipped her cocktail. But the momentary calm shattered when she heard the abrupt crackle of gunfire outside, muffled yet unmistakable even through the nightclub's heavy beat.

Her instincts kicked in immediately, her senses sharpening as she set her drink down. She caught sight of the other patrons, their curious, masked faces turning towards the noise with unease, some already scrambling to distance themselves from any potential threat. Valery, however, moved the opposite way, weaving back through the crowd toward the entrance.

She really wished she hadn't chosen heels for the night.

In the gloom outside, the scene unfolded with jarring clarity. A figure on the ground was surrounded by shouts and confusion, and Valery's gaze locked onto a limousine parked near the curb, its windows shattered, smoke rising from the hood. Blood streaked across the pavement, and the body of a guard lay unmoving beside the vehicle.

As she neared the car as fast as she could, she spotted a man inside, shielding someone else's body with his own. Stepping closer with cautious steps to use the car itself for cover, Valery's presence was commanding, her voice carrying through the chaos with calm authority. "What's going on? Do you need help?" She took in the scene, amber eyes assessing the damage even though she hadn't brought anything along to defend herself.

Marya Werdegast ​

 

[Marya Werdegast]

POV: Byron Devorak, top enforcer of crime boss Han Werdegast
Location: Outside front entrance of Danse Macabre
Tags: Valery Noble

There had to be a way out of this. Think outside the box, Byron told himself, pressing his hand to Han's bleeding wounds and peeking cautiously outside what was left of the limousine's windows. He could make a run for it, but Han would slow him down. And he wasn't leaving without the boss.

Even damaged, his Cloak might be able to take them inside the nightclub. But he feared there would be more assassins waiting for them there.

"What's going on? Do you need help?"

Byron turned and saw a masked woman standing outside the limo. "Are you crazy?" he hissed, bewildered that a random passerby would deliberately jeopardize her safety in order to help strangers. That wasn't the way things worked in his world.

Another pop shattered a street light above them, plunging their area of the street into darkness. Pieces of debris fell to the ground close to where the woman was crouching with a sound of shattering glass and sparking wires. Byron gave the woman a second glance. Despite her tottering high heels, she looked like she could handle herself well enough. And they needed all the help they could get.

Unless this was a trap. But he wasn't getting that impression from her, and his intuition was always right.

"There's at least two shooters," he said, his tone noticeably changed. More businesslike. "One that way, and one in the opposite direction. We need to get out of here in one piece, and fast. Any ideas?"

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Black Masquerade dress

Valery's amber eyes scanned the chaos around her, quickly assessing the best way to get everyone out of this deadly crossfire. The limo was riddled with bullets, offering little more than a temporary shield, and she knew they'd have to make a swift exit if they were going to avoid being pinned down. Her gaze sharpened, and without a second thought, she bent down, slipping off her heels and setting them aside, freeing herself to move more fluidly. She swiftly gathered her hair into a high ponytail, tying it back with a practiced flick of her fingers. She needed to be ready to act — no distractions, no constraints.

Crouching down beside the shattered window of the limousine, she met the gaze of the man shielding his wounded boss. "We're going to have to make a run for it through the club," she said, her voice calm but urgent. "I'll cover us — just get him ready to move."

With that, she shifted her focus, reaching out with the Force to the clutter of debris scattered across the street. Bits of broken streetlight, shards of glass, and small stones lay around, and she raised her hand, feeling them lift under her guidance. With a slight push, she hurled the objects in the direction of the shooters, creating a chaotic distraction that forced their aim to waver, hopefully buying them precious seconds.

"Now!" she urged, her voice low but commanding. She kept the objects moving through the air, some striking nearby walls, others skimming the ground, all to keep the shooters guessing and their attention split. The moment the barrage began, she darted toward the club's entrance, casting a quick glance back to ensure they were following her lead.

If any bullets came their way despite the chaos, she was ready to stop them. But she hoped to make an escape through the club or force the shooters to come after them.

Where she could take them out.

Marya Werdegast ​

 

[Marya Werdegast]

POV: Byron Devorak, top enforcer of crime boss Han Werdegast
Location: Outside front entrance of Danse Macabre
Tags: Valery Noble

Byron kept watch as the woman removed her heels and tied her hair back in a ponytail, preparing for battle. He took the time to creep forward and take the dead clown's blaster. He had lost sight of the other bodyguard.

Returning to the limo, he felt a tug on his Cloak. "Byron," Han muttered, his voice weak. "We need to talk... your gift..."

"We'll talk later," Byron assured him.

"No," Han's grip tightened. "Marya... will try to take it from you... You must not let her."

"We're going to have to make a run for it through the club," she said, her voice calm but urgent. "I'll cover us — just get him ready to move."

He nodded in silent agreement, hefting Han's body against his shoulder. The boss had gone quiet, slipping into unconsciousness. His injuries needed tending; all the more reason to get a move on.

Byron cautiously left the limo, keeping his head down. He was reliant on the woman for cover, though he wasn't sure how she expected to—

With that, she shifted her focus, reaching out with the Force to the clutter of debris scattered across the street. Bits of broken streetlight, shards of glass, and small stones lay around, and she raised her hand, feeling them lift under her guidance.

She was a Force User. Probably a Jedi, he realized. Ah well. Byron wasn't going to look a gift bantha in the mouth. He started for the club's entrance.

As soon as he left cover, bullets began pinging off the concrete around him. These weren't blaster bolts; they were solid projectiles made of metal. Whoever was trying to kill Han knew his weaknesses. Byron darted past, counting on the woman for protection. His speed was slowed by Han's weight on his shoulder, but it only took a few seconds to reach the doors. He shoved them open, entering the Danse Macabre.

The interior of the club remained untouched by gunfire, but bore signs of a mob's chaotic escape. Many patrons remained, cowering underneath tables or hiding behind the bar, afraid to go outside and risk being shot. Byron surveyed the room, sensing something amiss. But no assassin jumped out to strike at them. Not yet, anyway.

Byron laid Han out on the floor. "Is there a doctor or healer here?" he asked, setting the bait. "Ten thousand credits awaits whoever saves Han Werdegast's life..."

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Black Masquerade dress

Valery moved with precision, her senses sharp as she guided the man and his injured boss across the open ground. With a flick of her wrist and a steady focus, she reached out with the Force, creating a shield against the hail of bullets ricocheting toward them. Each projectile was deflected just enough to avoid hitting Byron or Han, while some ricocheted against nearby walls or skipped across the ground.

The three made it inside, pushing past the few patrons still cowering by the doors. As soon as they were out of direct fire, Valery felt a sting on her cheekbone and raised a hand, her fingers brushing over a line of warmth where blood now trickled down. A bullet had grazed her, leaving a thin trail of red against her skin, but she dismissed it with a quick wipe. Now wasn't the time to worry about injuries, especially minor ones.

As Byron called out for a doctor, a figure emerged from behind the bar, a woman in her thirties with a medical pouch slung over her shoulder. She hurried over, crouching beside Han to assess his injuries with a grim but focused expression. "I'm not a doctor," she said, "But I've got some training — I can stabilize him until he can be moved somewhere safer."

"Thank you," Valery said, her tone brisk. Her gaze moved from the woman back to Byron. "We can't stay here long. Whoever is after Han is going to follow us, and they'll be prepared for us to try hiding out." She looked over her shoulder, almost as if she was expecting them to have already caught up.

"Who are these people, anyway?"

Marya Werdegast ​

 

[Marya Werdegast]

POV: Byron Devorak, top enforcer of crime boss Han Werdegast
Location: In da club
Tags: Valery Noble

A woman stepped out from behind the bar, conveniently carrying a medical pouch on her back. Byron was immediately suspicious. "Stop," he commanded, holding the bodyguard's blaster under his cloak, ready to blow her away if she made any sudden movements. "What are you, a medic?" he asked, seeing that she was in uniform. Probably hired by the club's security agency in case there were any medical emergencies.

The woman nodded. "I'm not a doctor," she said, "But I've got some training — I can stabilize him until he can be moved somewhere safer."

If she was an assassin, she could've simply lied and said she was a doctor to lend herself more credibility. Moreover, Byron didn't sense any dishonesty from her. He let her crouch next to Han, though he kept an eye on her while she worked.

"Who are these people, anyway?"

He glanced toward the woman—the Jedi—and his gaze immediately fixated on a trickle of blood dripping from a cut on her cheek. His tongue started to lick his lip; he disguised the hungry gesture by sticking it out the corner of his mouth, as if he were merely deep in thought.

It was obvious who had set this up: Marya, Werdegast's eldest daughter, now his enemy. But did he want this Jedi getting all up in their business? The risks might outweigh the reward. Regardless, he had little time to spin a whole cover story. So he went for a cautious response.

"I don't know," he finally answered. "Mr. Werdegast is a very important man. He may have made enemies..." He trailed off, his sense of danger increasing to a fever pitch, then resumed speaking as if he hadn't noticed anything. "... Or it could be a random terrorist attack—"

There was a man crouching underneath a table behind him. This time, Byron was ready. Whirling around, he blasted the would-be assassin full of holes, squeezing the trigger almost until it overheated. To the untrained eye, it might look like he had just wasted an unarmed civilian. The screams and cries of terror from the people around them afterward certainly made it seem so. But as the smoke cleared and the body settled, a small holdout blaster could be seen clutched in the dead man's hand.

Pointing the barrel up at the ceiling, Byron surveyed his handiwork. The area around the corpse was riddled with carbon scoring and the air stank of scorched flesh. "Anyone else want to try?" he snarled over the panicked din. The crowd fell silent. He turned his gaze back to the medic. "Come on woman, there's ten thousand on the line!"

"He's stable," she said, warily stepping away from Han. "I can't do anything more for him."

Byron wasn't thrilled at the idea of having to spend another minute in this place anyhow. He looked at the Jedi. "Any chance you can help us get to the hospital?"

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Black Masquerade dress

Valery's brow lifted slightly as she noticed Byron's gaze linger on her, his tongue flicking out subtly to lick his lips. For a brief second, she was caught off guard, momentarily wondering if his look held more than just appreciation for her assistance. Was he that into her? She pushed the thought aside with a slight, almost amused quirk of her lips, but kept her focus steady on the task at hand.

The sudden eruption of gun fire jarred her, and her body tensed as Byron spun to blast a man crouched beneath a nearby table. Civilians screamed and scattered, scrambling for cover amid the chaos, and Valery's gaze flicked down to the corpse now sprawled across the floor, a small holdout blaster still gripped in his lifeless hand. It had all happened so fast, leaving an uncomfortable silence in its wake, only broken by Byron's demanding bark.

As the medic finished stabilizing Han, Valery nodded her thanks, quickly assessing their surroundings. The tension in the air was thick, and they had already lingered too long in one place.

"Let's get him to safety," Valery said, her tone calm but firm as she took control of the situation. "Follow me — we'll use the back exit." She gestured toward a side door that led to a narrow alley, dimly lit and likely less patrolled by their pursuers.

With Byron supporting Han and the medic close behind, they moved quickly, navigating through the aftermath of the club's hasty evacuation. Valery led the way, her senses heightened and alert to every flicker of movement around them.

But just as they neared the exit, a figure lunged out from the shadows — one of the attackers from earlier, weapon raised and intent clear in his eyes. Valery reacted instinctively, raising her hand and calling on the Force. With a sharp flick of her wrist, she sent him hurtling upwards, slamming his head into the ceiling with a forceful impact. He dropped to the ground, unconscious, his weapon clattering beside him.

Turning back to Byron and the others, Valery nodded, her gaze steely. "Come on. Let's keep moving."

Marya Werdegast ​

 

[Marya Werdegast]

POV: Byron Devorak, top enforcer of crime boss Han Werdegast
Location: Outside front entrance of Danse Macabre
Tags: Valery Noble

With Han slung over his shoulder, Byron made a beeline for the back door. No sooner had they exited into the alleyway, a figure jumped into their path, brandishing a pistol. The Jedi reacted quickly, knocking the man unconscious.

Byron glared at the assassin's body. Normally he would have finished him off. But based on what little he knew of Jedi teachings, he didn't think his protector would take kindly to him killing a defenseless opponent. Reluctantly he turned away, following her out of the alley. "They had a sniper before," he warned the Jedi. "It may still be targeting us—"

Danger! But not from a sniper. Unsure of where it was coming from, Byron opened himself to the Force, acting on pure instinct. He heard the sound of an engine barreling closer...

"Move!" he exclaimed, leaping out of the way just in time to avoid being hit by a speeder as it screeched around the corner. The vehicle slammed into the store front that had been behind him mere moments before, shattering the windows, demolishing the facade, and dismembering the mannequins in the shop window. The impact triggered a shrill burglar alarm. Dogs barked in the distance.

Two figures emerged from the wreckage. One was a hulking Gen'dai, shaking off his injuries with a growl and a shrug of his armored shoulders. The other was cloaked and hooded, small and slender enough to be female, but with no other distinguishing features visible.

"Sorcerer!" the Gen'dai roared at Byron. "Give up the traitor Werdegast, and perhaps we will let you live!"

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Black Masquerade dress

The roar of the speeder engine was the only warning Valery had before Byron's shout echoed in her ears, and she threw herself sideways, narrowly avoiding the vehicle as it screeched around the corner. The force of its passing knocked her off her feet, sending her tumbling across the pavement until she landed on her side, catching herself on her elbow.

Valery pushed herself up, amber eyes blazing as she took in the wreckage before her — the shattered storefront, the demolished mannequins, and the screech of an alarm blaring into the night air. Two figures stepped out from the wreckage: one, a hulking Gen'dai, his armor barely scuffed as he shook off the crash with a casual growl; the other, a smaller, cloaked figure, shrouded in shadows, their features obscured but with a dangerous aura that set Valery's senses on high alert.

With a determined exhale, she rose to her feet, smoothing her dress with a quick, irritated brush of her hand. So much for a quiet escort. She stepped forward, positioning herself squarely between Byron, Han, and the advancing attackers. Her stance was strong, her fists raised, a silent but clear declaration that she was ready to fight.

"Who are you, and what do you want with him?" she demanded, her voice cutting through the chaos, steady and commanding. She had an intensity to her that was strong enough to ignore the bruised elbow or the blood dripping down her face.

"I'm not letting you hurt anyone."

Marya Werdegast ​

 

[Marya Werdegast]

POV: Byron Devorak, top enforcer of crime boss Han Werdegast
Location: Outside front entrance of Danse Macabre
Tags: Valery Noble

"Who are you, and what do you want with him?"

"My name's Elegy," the Gen'dai thundered. "I want him dead!"

The Jedi asserted that she wouldn't let them harm anyone. Byron heaved a sigh and set Han down on the ground. "I had hoped it wouldn't come to this," he said, cradling his blaster. He didn't have enough confidence in the Jedi's capabilities to let her handle them both. After all, she hadn't even brought her lightsaber—

"Byron."

His expression darkened as he recognized the cloaked figure's voice. "Julianna. My own student?"

She reached up and pulled down her hood. Julianna was a purple Twi'lek, the sides of her pretty face etched with tattooed symbols. "It's nothing personal, sir. Marya pays well."

"Can't argue with that." There was nothing she knew that Byron hadn't taught her, which should make this a short fight. The Gen'dai, though... Byron glanced at the Jedi. "I'll take her, you take the big guy."

Elegy wasn't exactly waiting around for them to decide, spewing a gout of fire at them with a wrist-mounted flamethrower!

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Black Masquerade dress

The instant the Gen'dai's flamethrower spewed fire, Valery sprang into action, pulling deep on the Force to propel herself sideways with a speed and precision beyond ordinary movement. She dodged the flames, the heat grazing her skin and leaving a harsh warmth against her cheek. The fire illuminated the Gen'dai's fierce, armored silhouette as he barreled forward, his massive fists raised.

With a sharp exhale, Valery focused, letting the Force surge through her limbs, amplifying her strength to meet his unyielding power head-on. She dashed forward, fists clenched, and met the Gen'dai mid-swing, intercepting his punch with a brutal block. Her own arm shuddered under the impact, but she held her ground, refusing to budge as the Gen'dai's surprise flickered across his face.

He snarled and swung again, this time driving a heavy fist toward her ribs. Valery caught the blow but felt the shockwave pulse through her body, the force of it staggering her back a few steps. She bit back a wince, tasting the metallic tang of blood as her lip split, but she didn't falter.

In a swift counter, she stepped in close and drove her fist into the Gen'dai's armored chest, her augmented strength crashing through the outer plating with a resounding crack. The Gen'dai stumbled, clearly thrown off by the unexpected strength of her blow, but he recovered fast.

Without another word, she launched herself at him, moving faster than he could track. She ducked low beneath his next swing, slipping inside his guard, and drove her knee into his abdomen, feeling the impact reverberate up her leg. The Gen'dai staggered, his eyes widening in surprise. She followed up immediately, catching his arm and using the Force to amplify her grip, twisting him around with a strength that would have been impossible otherwise.

With immense strength, she tossed him straight into the wall!

Marya Werdegast ​