Hyporian Nights [CIS Dominion of Hypori] | X-49

[Saraya Arenais]

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Objective: Enjoy the Festivities​

Wearing: xxx​

Post One​

[member=Asher Mossa]​

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Thick waves of pastel blue silk danced around her legs as she walked the long stretch of path littered with twinkling lights. Honestly it was rather pretty, despite her vision fading in and out each time they flickered. The soft buzz of distant conversation was her guide along with the smell of something delicious wafting in on a gentle breeze. Excitement was bubbling up in the pit of her stomach as the festivities grew nearer. It was an entirely new sensation for Iseult but she reveled in it all the same.

The dress she wore was a gift and though the label had no name she had no doubts about who it had come from. She was grateful for it considering her wardrobe currently consisted of one horrifically cliche fortune teller costume. For the first time in her life she felt pretty, beautiful even, but it wasn't just the dress. Since her escape from the carnival Iseult had changed dramatically. With more time spent in the sun and not cooped up in a tent her skin had gained a healthy glow. The food was regular now, and considerably better than before, which meant she ate enough to gain curves where there used to be sharp bone.

Asher was supposed to be meeting her here but they had neglected to confirm a specific place so Iseult settled for hovering at the edge of the party. Before too long a thin glass of yellow colored liquid was offered to her with a flourish. After giving it a sniff she took a cautious sip, which made her recoil with a disgusted expression. Whatever it was tasted like something that came out of a bottle marked hazardous. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying it though and there was nothing else to do so Iseult took another gulp.

 

[Naedira Darcrath]

Objective: CIS Security
Location: Qixi Festival [Lounge/Music Area]
Time: Evening
Thoughts: "What did I do to deserve this? What -didn't- I do?."

---

There were so many people milling about in gussied up attire, taking in the sights, and stopping at vendors that Naedira didn’t realize that she was being surveilled by more than just her superiors. Had the Knight known that the Warden of Siskeen, [member="William the Bloody"], was illicitly trying to lift data from her gear she would have been mightily displeased. Her opinion of political figures, even would be faces of worlds, was already on the rocks. That certainly wouldn’t have helped. If he chose to remain consistently in her orbit, maintaining a particular distance, she wasn't blind or dim-witted enough not to find it peculiar.

There were only a few reasons, in her mind, for an unknown to attempt approaching an otherwise fairly unsociable Knight Obsidian in full armor. Her femininity didn’t matter. The very visible sidearm and lightsaber hilt equipped to her utility belt was generally an acceptable deterrent for anyone curious about a pretty face. This led her to consider civilians, visitors, and guests of Hypori with a rather narrow viewpoint. If they lapsed out of their own lane of blissful ignorance they either suspected a problem, there was the problem, or they were the problem.

The Nabooian female paused when her orders were abruptly adjusted. She noted the unfamiliar pause and a frown marred her seemingly pixie-esque features. It wasn’t like the operations center to change directives in the middle of an assignment. Nor, was it typical for relief to arrive early. She chewed on the inside of her cheek for a moment, but kept her peace, and responded slowly and clearly through the channel. There was nothing they hated worse than a transmission where the speaker sounded like their mouth was full of bread. “Acknowledged...Darcrath out.”

Part of her wondered if something had happened. To her knowledge, neither the Vicelord, nor either Exarch had landed yet. The Ministers seemed to come and go as they pleased, however, their placement was just as important. Her concerns were cut off abruptly when she realized there was no point in worrying until her relief arrived. It would be sorted soon enough.

She would be found near one of the lighted gazebos in the city square. Her average height had been mitigated by the fact that she stood on the middle step, looking out over the masses, entirely unashamed when she viewed someone too long. Baggy clothing, long cloaks, and partially hidden faces were all a warning sign. Hypori was hot. Not as ridiculously arid as Geonosis but claiming the world to be ‘temperate’ was being very kind. Anyone wearing too much stood out.

Which, was probably why she stood out. In her own perspective—it wasn’t a problem. She wouldn’t be an effective deterrent if no one could see her. [SIZE=11pt]Besides, she wasn’t the only thing making a splash. A CIS droid [[/SIZE][member="Osintrium"][SIZE=11pt]] had just entered the plaza, a model she had not seen before, and she found it hard to tear her eyes away. [/SIZE]Impressive[SIZE=11pt]. [/SIZE]

Naedira wasn’t as well-versed in the Force as some but she wasn’t inept. She could feel someone distinctive on their way, vaguely familiar, and thus didn’t turn around immediately. Likely, another Knight. There was no threat there and no reason to break eye-contact or to cease in her evaluation. When the deep and dark baritone of her replacement met her ears she did give the individual her focus. She knew that voice. Her expression remained still.

Why in the name of all things was the newly minted Minister of War standing behind her? What sort of grievous blunder had she made that he had come to relieve her personally? Yes. They had met formally in the Offices of Exarch Talon but that did not make them acquaintances. He was her superior. Her shoulders squared sharply and she reflexively stood straighter. “Sir.”, she greeted formally, her voice nearly drowned by the music as she corrected herself, “Minister.”

She would remain at attention despite the fact that most of the Confederacy didn’t really salute one another. Many nations seemed to find it strange but Nae was it didn’t seem to be a requirement. It wasn’t as if they couldn’t, moreso, that it reminded her of a prime ape trying to ride a swoop. Ridiculous. “Forgive me for asking….But why is the Minister of War taking over for a Knight?”

[member="Aiden"], as she knew him, no surname that she could currently recall, surely had more pressing matters to tend to. Some sort of strategic duties. Management of the new CIS operating base, or even, following up with potential criminal elements…Something. Anything, but standing her, beside her. If Naedira had been doing her job correctly, none of the higher-ups would hear from her, or about her. She did her job. She followed orders. What was this?

“…Have I been re-assigned?”

It was a valid concern. She’d earned her spot in watching over the Exarchs and in keeping an eye on her cousin—but everything was subject to change. The Confederacy was a hidden war machine that deluded the rest of the galaxy with whims of expansion while building army after army. She wasn’t unaware that eventually neighboring nations would notice. It was her duty to anticipate that eventually, there wouldn’t be parties or peace. It was just a matter of time.

 

[Queen Bots™]

Purpose: Make Nice with CIS Personnel [Geonosian Aristocrat]

Location: General Wishing Tree area at the Qixi Festival

The winged aristocrat, Gaza Dellso, pushed toward the Wishing Tree in the middle of Ensign. He had no respect for the near-human filth in their finery and stared at the metal monstrosity that had been commissioned for this event. His temper was foul. As usual.

“What [click] a waste [click] [click].”

He continued to make disparaging comments under his breath, his mandible moving, but only producing a series of unintelligible clicks versus continuing in basic. It was clear that his grasp of it was passable, however, imperfect. Geonosian language was not for the faint of heart or the easily irritated so he’d forced himself to learn. His elongated face could not have possibly appeared more displeased. He did not understand the purpose of this disruption. The soft and breakable humans that ruled the surface of Hypori ought to be battening down the hatches. Not wasting time.

Gaza was frustrated with his duty in maintaining the bridge between the worlds that existed above and below. He was tired of looking at pallid human faces with dwindling intellect. Zara Bek managed to convince him to take in many of her working class in order to provide apprenticeships for mechanical construction and technological innovation in exchange for materials and an appropriate split of profits—but he still remained unsatisfied.

Humanity was a bore. Beneath the greatness of his brethren and certainly the authors of their own demise. Even their entertainment was pitiful. Dancing? Singing? Where was the brutality? They didn’t seem to have a single fighting ring or any execution arenas to speak of. Most of them wouldn’t last a day underground. And yet, they shared Hypori, and were thus required to tolerate one another unless the two cultures desired war. His Ineffable Queen did not wish it.

Thusly, he attended this horror show, and tried not to insult every unworthy lifeform that crossed his path. He would not be placing a trivial desire on this artifice of ill-begotten improvidence. Gaza would perform his duties but that did not mean he would indulge these ridiculous customs. His bulbous, thick-lidded eyes, turned toward a group of Confederate guests [[member="Alora Fae"], [member="Scherezade deWinter"], [member="Kylo Kyr'am"], [member="Treiades Rhoujen"], [member="Caesar Kenway"], [member="Rylan Kordel"]] that may have been within earshot.

“[click] [click] Welcome [click] to Hypori. Eat our [click] food. Enjoy your stay [click] [click].”

‘May you leave quickly and never return.’

He kept the last bit to himself but there was a distinct sneer in his chitinous face that could have been mistaken for cultural differences.

Spoiler

OOC: Please note that Gaza Dellso is not designed to lengthen any post orders. Your character may choose to hear or not hear him, but assume, he is in your general vicinity and may be interacted with at your leisure.

 

[Adron Malvern]

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Location: Qixi Festival | Objective: Deal with a bug | Tag: [member="Eternal Vision"] | Attire: Link​

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There was an understandable amount of stress that came with the new station Adron had been granted. The position of Exarch was no small feat to manage, and for Adron it had been the result of almost a year of hard work. He had proven countless times in the past he worked as an effective Minister of War, yet now his focus had been shifted. As an Exarch, Adron's power was a direct extension of the Vicelord and made him one of the most powerful men in The Confederacy. There was no denying the pride and pleasure he took in knowing that fact. Yet there was one fact he could never ignore, until it was reversed. He still had a master.

Adron stood in silence, his eyes falling on the Wishing tree that many of the festival goers seemed to be frequenting. With his hands clasped over his walking cane, blue eyes peered over the crowd before him.

Even before he appeared, Adron could sense the unfamiliar signature of the Geonosian representative. The sight of the insectoid caused the Exarch to narrow his eyes for the briefest of moments. Even in the beginning of the diplomatic process the bug had proven to be a pain in the side of The Confederacy. Though most of his malice was founded in some semblance of reason, it still caused Adron a good deal of annoyance.

Although Adron would have appreciated nothing better than to leave the event, it would have been unbecoming of his station. Good form dictated that the Exarch extend his services to the people of Hypori, and bring forth any clarifications that may be required. So he would do just that, as he approached the Geonosian representative hoping not to snap his neck before the end of the night.

Even his movements had been as fluid as water as he approached behind the bug-like alien.

"Your hospitality is well received, Gaza Dellso." His voice was set to commandeer the bug's attention, all the while his cane was set upon the ground with an all too subtle tap.

"I thought we could speak a bit more about your people's future working alongside The Confederacy. I assure you it will not be a waste of your time." Adron offered a confident smile that could easily be misinterpreted as pompous. Though, it would not be a large interpretation.

 

[Aszräl]

OBJECTIVE Qixi Festival & Wishing Tree POST III​

LOCATION Bar and Lounge Area WEARING This WIELDING A magical refilling cup and degrading sense of 'proper'ness​

[member="Lirka Ka"] | [member="Scherezade deWinter"] | [member="Marek Starchaser"]​

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Once the last of the amber fluid slipped down Rhoujen's throat, he regarded Lirka's arm candy offer with a hearty laugh. Nothing malicious, though it would be understandable if she were offended by it, but more amusement of the situation he found himself in. An absolute unit of a woman offering to play the part of a lady-friend for a little extra dosh on the side was not what he expected to hear tonight. What did he expect to hear tonight? Well... not that.

And then age came into it. Well what the hell was he supposed to say now? Without fully understanding the culture of her particular species and not knowing Lirka's personality to its fullest extent, he felt like he had been backed into a corner where every direction could lead to an upperclass bar fight. Somewhere the little voice in the back of his head (not Sigma) decided to just say feth it and go.

"Don't look a day over sixty," he teased "and I think if I wanted to showboat you around I'd buy you a drink first," and with that, he doodled his fingers toward the bar and a decanter was swiftly exchanged for a credit chip.

Treiades refilled his glass and offered the knife-eared woman a playful grin. He dared imagine that his shenanigans were on point tonight, and 'tonight' was yet young.

 

[Osintrium]

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Objective: Continue Patrol Protocol "Seraph"
Location: Making way towards the Qixi Tree and Central Festival Area
Time: Later in the evening
Security Code: YELLOW.


Personnel of all types were present at the festival, bazaar, and Qixi Tree. More importantly, various CIS Aristocrats were scheduled to arrive later in the evening. Osintrium would have continued into the Urban Area of Hypori, however, his parameters were updated. On the unit's red oculus flashed the order to provide general security for the Geonosian aristocrat Gaza Dellso. Stopping in its tracks, the droid pivoted harshly on the stone ground in a 180 degree turn. Raising its weapon into the air to show a sense of urgency, Osintrium began thudding towards the Geonosian's general area of operation. Perhaps securing a vantage point might ensure 100 percent security for the representative. Altercations might start sooner or later, considering all the data Osintrium had on the Geonosian was that he was very provocative, and had a very strong disdain for that of human life.

Eventually, after a short trek, Osintrium found its way to the plaza near the tree in which Dellso had been welcoming various other delegates, allies, friends. The act was utmost sarcastic, and may or may not have been picked up by those he was speaking to. Observant as a Falcon, Osintrium found himself on a balcony nearby, providing overwatch for the partygoers and the representatives. Scanning the area, the droid stood stone-cold, completely alone. Far in the distance to his right, Osintrium spectated a young man [[member="Treiades Rhoujen"]] conversing with a woman of a somewhat unique species [[member="Lirka Ka"]]. Osintrium thought nothing of it, and continued to spectate the area, swiveling its head left and right.

 

[Lirka Ka]

She was joking to begin with, no offense was taken. Besides it’s easy to tell when the Sephi’s easily flared temper gets going because it involves a metal fist in the “aggressors” face very quickly, and the usual sound she had come so used to after doing that exact thing dozens of the times over.

Easily better put as thankfully no offense was taken.

“Don’t get your hopes up.”

Ka grinned, evidently either quite drunk or just having a good time. Or that mixture of both, with one pull back of her head half her brandy disappeared down her throat in what seemed like one mighty gulp. A true denizen of the Underworld knew all the ways to drink more than they ever should.

[member="Treiades Rhoujen"]

 

[Rylan Kordel]

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Objective: Enjoy the Festivities with [member="Alora Fae"]​

Post Two​

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Smiling at Alora's gesture, Rylan did the same signal back to her, because he too was glad someone he knew was there, and while I was loath to admit it, he had a small inkling of actual care beyond just mutual respect for the woman. Downing his drink, he quickly snatched her glass, then placed some on a serving tray that passed by, grabbing up two more drinks for his companion and himself, eyes once again dancing over her form, "Well thank you, and you... Wow. You, my dear look ravishing." he grinned, then winked "Honestly, you're probably the most stunning woman here."​

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Passing her the new glass, he clinked his against hers, a devilish smile on his face "Here's too us, the conquering heroes." and with that, he downed the drink, feeling the burn as it fueled him and his actions.​

 

[Cameron Centurion]

Objective: Qixi Festival
Location: Qixi Festival
Tags: [member="Naedira Darcrath"]
Post: 2

The expression on Naedira's face was as impassive as he'd expected. Following that particular expectation, Aiden already started to dismissively wave at he knew would be a stiffening of her entire posture where it possible. Allowing the petite woman to rattle off multiple forms of address, the dark-skinned Sith offered a simple statement to hopefully ease the tension of the interaction. His current position within the Confederacy was a consequence of necessity and necessity only. The Confederacy had a need, and Aiden had a desire to learn. For the past several decades, he'd mostly been a recluse on Roon. In fact outside of his own, [member="Anesia Jy'Vun"] was the only individual with whom he'd had occasion to interact, without ultimately killing, until the time he'd arrived on Geonosis.

"Aiden." The name was stated without the underlying stress of it being anything more than his name. With the reality of movements within his family in the last several years, Aiden had little choice but to develop...working relationships. There was no concern about proving his competence as he'd been raised to one day accept the leadership of his ancestral homeworld since birth. A particular time that continued to draw closer with each moment.

After their first meeting, Aiden had looked into Knight Darcrath's personnel file. For someone that seemed so adept at blending into the shadows, happy to accept any assignment, her background left very little hint of a need to accept what many would regard as mundane duty. Certainly it was an important function that she filled, but he did wonder how intensely past...trauma had affected her psyche. "No need to forgive an innocuous question such as that. The simple answer is...because I can."

Clasping his hands behind his back, the Minister shook his head slightly in response to Nae's second question. "Re-assigned? No, not at all. You have, in fact, been relieved for the remainder of the evening. Naturally, if Exarch Talon were to arrive, I would not bar you from fulfilling your personal duties to her. However, there are plenty of people assigned to this even more suited to standing sentry." Aiden paused slightly as his head turned to regard another Knight approaching in a hurry. Clearly, the young man had been instructed to go and keep the Minister from working security at a social event. The look in the young man's eyes indicated he really had no idea how to broach that topic.

Shifting his gaze back to Naedira, he motioned towards the rapidly advancing relief. "It would seem that someone has decided I need to be relieved, however."

No sooner had the words left Aiden's lips than the advancing Knight arrived within earshot, stopping in a rigid position of attention. "Minister, I've been instructed by my superiors to relieve Knight Darcrath of her post."

Arching a curious brow, Aiden's bright gaze shifted between the newcomer and Naedira. "Oh? Well in that instance, I thank you for your service, Knight." Aiden's attention turned from the man before any further introduction could be uttered. "Well then, Knight Darcrath. It would seem your new standing orders are to, for once, relax." The word relax tasted funny on Aiden's tongue. Certainly, it was not a concept with which he was all that familiar himself.

 

[Asher Mossa]

Objective: Enjoy the Festivities​

Wearing: xxx​

Post One​

[member="Iseult Yver"]​

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Nervous, Asher could not remember the last time he felt like this. It wasn't a feeling he had experienced often in his life which was why he recognized it the moment came over him. Everything about this particular festival made him feel that way, the formality of it, the fact he had to wear a suit, which was not something he had ever worn in his life, and who he was going to be accompanying. Asher had agreed to meet Iseult Yver at the festival, a woman he had recently rescued from being used for the gift of farseeing. The carnival had made her wear the stereotypical gypsy outfit, which was only a small taste of the real crime. She had been exploited for a profit, and the spirits had been angered by it, as had Asher.

He adjusted the collar of his shirt, which was missing a tie. No one told him that he needed one, or that it would look awkward to button the top button of the shirt without one. Still he was there, and dressed in something that was foreign to him. Looking around at the other men, Asher realized he would blend in just fine. Most of them were not dressed to stand out, but the women, they were dressed to be seen. As he scanned the crowd for Iseult he noticed that many were dressed in a such a way that no man would refuse them a dance, even if they could not actually dance.

His eyes landed on her. The blue dress was.... Asher gulped as what he thought were his nerves became an absolute bit of terror. Grabbing a glass of whatever drink came by, the man downed it hoping that it would be enough to put a bit of confidence in his steps. For the first time since the death of his wife Asher was at a festival with another woman for the purpose of simply being with her. No matter what else happened during the night, this was an important first step. Their wedding set was still around his neck as he was not ready to part with the reminder of what he had lost.

Asher cleared his throat as he approached, and when he thought that he was at a respectable nearness to the woman, he bowed his head.

"You look... beautiful," he said as he offered his arm to her. Asher was her escort after all, and tonight it would be a shame to hang at the edge of what was happening. "Shall we venture into the happenings?"

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

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Wearing: xxx​

With: [member="Alwine Lechner"]​

Post: Two​

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Another party, and another suit. Thanks to [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"], Gerwald was much better suited for parties like this. The first occasion had been a wedding where they had to find him a tuxedo simply so they could inform Metus they were going to make a move on Stewjon, a world which had yet to secure a Viceroy. The politics were for other people. Gerwald himself was a fighter, brutish as he was large. The only reason he was in attendance was because his sister wanted to attend with him. At least she was not going to expect him to dance, though, perhaps he would surprise her later and show her that he had picked up fore form than he once had.

"Mead is a must dear sister, though I wish you would have picked a different dress."

Gerwald looked around and noticed that several men were looking at his sister, and being one himself he knew exactly what they were looking at and what they were thinking. It made his lip curl up into a snarl. This was his sister after all, and how dare any man have impure thoughts about his one and only sister.

"I don't like how the men are staring at your cleavage."

He walked off further toward the bar and motioned for 2 glasses of mead. Even though they were dressed formally, Gerwald was still going to show his sister that he had not forgotten how it was meant to be done. Stejon had treated the Confederacy to a party the likes of which he had not seen since. It was a shame really. The only thing he found to miss about his home was the way they could drink and party. A smirk pulled at his lips.

"Shall we show them how this is supposed to be done then?"

 

[Alwine Daye]

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Objective: Attend the festival with her brother
Wearing: this
Tags: [member="Gerwald Lechner"]
Post: 4

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Picked a different dress? The smile erased itself from the petite’s face and she cocked her head as a wolf would, looking at her brother. Was she overdressed? Underdressed? Had she chosen a color that was not permitted? If so, why had he not told her before they left the ship? Alwine had half a mind to claw his face out for waiting until now to comment negatively about her choice for the night. And then…

Ruby red lips stretched into a giant smile as she began to laugh, the laughter rolling from deep inside her belly as she clutched her stomach and slightly hunched forward, giving whoever was around them a much more ample view of her cleavage.

“You are absolutely correct, dalninuk,” she answered with a lovely smile, “perhaps I should take my dress off entirely and give the men more interesting things upon my body to stare at.”

Alwine would not deny that she enjoyed the attention from onlookers this night. It was rare for her to have occasions to dress up for, and even rarer that she actually wanted to dress up. No, she had no interest; not in men, not in women, not in romance, not in simply fornication. But everyone loved to feel special every now and then, and this was her now.

Taking the glass of mead in her hands, Alwine became quiet, her body still. Mead. Party. The bonfire parties on Stewjon had been one of the very few pleasures she had that had nothing to do with her being a Lupine and had nothing to do with her brothers. She had not been to one or tasted the other since… Since before Gerwald abandoned them. He’d left in the morning and less than an hour later she had learned of it. There were no more parties or mead for her after that. Even after her extraction from Stewjon, it just… It just hadn’t happened.

Looking up at her brother again, Alwine wished any trace of her former thoughts were gone from her chocolate brown eyes. “I would like to toast first,” she announced.

Alwine sighed, closing her eyes for a moment as she gathered the words she wished to use. “To this new life,” she began, “to the Lechner pack. To having both of my brothers again. To… To remembering the past,” she looked at him, hoping he would not step back before she was done. There was only one thing to add, “and to forgiving.”

Before she downed her glass, Alwine stepped on the tip of her toes, kissing Gerwald on the cheek. He was her brother. She had been angry enough at him, had wanted to claw him more than enough by now. But she and Gerwald wanted the same thing; a united sibling pack, even if in his fantasies the pack looked slightly different. But she would put it aside for now. Their united future was at risk if she did not begin to forgive. If she did not do more than pretend that things were fine, and there were no underlying foundations that had to be removed.

She never wanted to forget what had happened; his sins as well as her own.

But Alwine was ready to begin forgiving her brother, genuinely and truly, and not just in words. It would be a process. But she was ready to announce its start, now, tonight.

A soft smile appeared on her face then, one intended purely for her dalninuk. She would give him a moment in case he wanted to add words of his own. And if not, she would down the glass in one go, true-Stewjon style.

 

[Cersei Moirae]

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S P A C E​

Aboard the Nightstalker​

Post One​

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A new world to explore. Or at least, a portion of one.


The lights were dim on the starboard side of the ship, but the diamond strewn space echoed with a fierce intensity through the window. A window Cersei had found herself at more and more. It began as natural longing... searching for the giant red gem; the only place she had ever known. Now, though, the liquid gold of her gaze had become hungry and starved for the sight of the next new anomaly. Bright white light lit up most of her features, while the interior of the Nightstalker offered shadows to the contrast.

It was as if the powder blue fabric was poured over the buxom shape of the sorceress and continued to flow when she moved as if fluid; lengthy slits gave it this illusion. The thin, airy dress wrapped snugly as if tailored, dipping into an adventurous neckline and flowed down to hit just above her ankles strapped with heels a shade darker. Cersei shifted, lifting her hand to the glass and near pressing her cheek to it. The glowing sphere was still in the distance.

Lingering for a moment more, the princess tore her molten pools from the mesmerizing scene to the stairs. Heels tap-tapped lightly upon the deck and then the incline to reach the upper level where she met the silver-green gaze of [member="Caid Centurion"]. Had nearly ran into him and to that the creature offered an apologetic smile. Cersei supposed the time was nearing and moved from around his much larger frame to slip into a jump seat behind the cockpit's command center.

The woman placed both of her small hands into her lap upon crossing her ankles and strapping in. Moirae was still not quite used to... or versed well with landing. "This works, yes?" She finally spoke and directed his attention to her attire in hopes of distracting herself.

 

[Kylo Kyr'am]

Objective: Enjoying the festival
Attire: Black Suit, Green Tie
Tags: [member="Scherezade deWinter"]

Kylo returned her smile and listened to woman as she spoke her mind about the festival and thoughts about it. She made a point it was a beautiful scenery. He twisted his smile about the ma'am comment. Once she introduced herself he finally pieced together where he knew her from, he saw he on the CIS manifest, she was an obsidian Knight. Kylo then took a breath then spoke to her. Yes, that it is beautiful scenery, I'm new to the idea of socializing fun, I'd rather be in my Beskar'gam as well, my comfort zone has always been battle. My apologies for the Ma'am comment, you are too beautiful to be old, also my name is Kylo, Kylo Kyr'am. Kylo once again smiled at Madalena as he watched some kids skipping by having fun.

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[Scherezade deWinter]

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Objective: Enjoy the festival
Wearing: <3 | Combat boots
Tags: [member="Kylo Kyr'am"]
Post: 4

“Hello, Kylo,” Madalena greeted him again now that she had his name, and gave him a little nod with a smile. The mention of beskar’gem quite obviously marked him as a Mandalorian; while Madalena did not have the same hatred for them as the girl who no longer existed did, there was something about it that was sufficient to put a few personal walls up. At this point in time, she had but one Mandalorian friend, but [member="Daisy Americus"] was… A creature of her own. And Madalena adored her for it.

She was just about to say something else, to offer some more small talk conversation, when she felt it again. A certain feeling in the depths of her core. She had noticed it in varying amounts more than once over the past few weeks, mostly on Geonosis, but she had figured it was part of the bad effects of her nightmares that had caused it, since with all her Blood Magic and Force abilities, she had not once been able to understand its source. But this was not Geonosis, and this was not a mission. It tugged at her from the inside, almost beckoning her to follow an invisible thread.

For now though, Madalena chose to ignore it. This was a festival. She was here to meet new people, to have fun, not to follow some Force related mysteries.

She gave a cough and composed herself, returning her attention to Kyle. “Are you part of the Confederacy, Kylo?” she asked, “or perhaps an ally?”

 

[William the Bloody]

Location: the festival
Post: 2

As he nonchalantly followed [member="Naedira Darcrath"] on a parallel path, the woman slowed as a rather large man intercepted her. Pausing he took a relaxed seat on a nearby bench as though just a pedestrian who was enjoying the cool breeze upon his face and taking in the view of the people of Hypori participating in the revelry alongside the Confederacy.

His ears was keen on the conversation as well as his device that had surely begun to read the newcomer's possible data devices. Crossing one leg over the other his eyes roamed across the landscape, neither pausing nor pinpointing on a single person. Another approaching Knight gave William a moment of trepidation for continuing his actions, yet he had not been discovered and he wasn't technically doing anything wrong ... Other then electronically alleviating individuals of personal data, hacking their electronics, and having the potential to impersonate and steal their identities.

He let a small smile of amusement cross his face which helped him to blend even more into the joyous gathering. Of course the device in question was acquired on the black market, had no information or specialized components to incriminate him. And the program was written by him, who had no background or history in coding, programming, or even being adept in using technology on more the a user interface level. He was just a good Samaritan who found the device and was looking for the owner.

The title "Minister of War" and corresponding name, [member="Aiden"] , most certainly piqued his interest. Such a high office in the Confederacy given to a relative unknown. It made him even more curious to who the man truly was. Resisting the compulsion to reach out in the force and gaige the newcomer, he kept his own presence tightly under wraps. The minister, this Aiden, may not be a force user, yet two Knights nearby were. And he didn't feel like announcing to the participants in the conversation that another force user was oh so ever close by.

Yet the silver-green eyes of the minister were not a common sight. They put him in mind of another man, a new addition to the Viceroyalty. Quite interested now he allowed his eyes to flicker organically to the two speaking near him before once more away.

 

[Caid Centurion]

Objective: Qixi Festival
Location: Space->Ensign
Wearing: x
Tags: [member="Cersei Moirae"]
Post: 3

Caid actually genuinely hated ceremonial functions. His hatred, however, stemmed from years of rubbing elbows with the 'social elite' of the Republic during his days as Supreme Commander. The Galactic Republic...that had been a rather fantastic abortion of a government that Caid was all too happy to abandon before it crumbled into absolute obscurity. There were some, of course, that said the Confederacy was what the Republic tried to be, but they were unsurprisingly incorrect. The Confederacy appeared to be one thing, but in truth it was another. Sure, there was a rule of law, discipline, order, and a surprisingly abundant amount of freedoms. However, said freedoms were an illusion, a shroud pulled over the eyes of the public.

As with all things, there exists only those with power and those without...

Dressed in a simple tailored suit, Caid had made his way to the cockpit some time ago. Following a brief conversation with the Endelaan Warriors piloting the vessel, Caid had remained standing by his own chair as he reviewed coordinates and the information pushed to him about Hypori. As he was busying himself with...nothing of particular importance, a familiar system alert began flashing on his console. Rolling his eyes, Caid made his way towards the rear of the cockpit; very near to where the spiral staircase emptied into the space.

Reaching up into an overhead, Caid pulled down a panel and detached a wire. Glancing over his shoulder, the Sith Lord quickly confirmed the warning light had gone off. It wasn't for a critical system, but it would play havoc on the computers during the pre-landing checklist. The last thing Caid needed right now was to hear a bunch of annoying klaxons routinely going off as they made their approach to Hypori.

As soon as he'd closed the panel and smoothed out the fabric of his suit, Cersei materialized from around the corner, nearly running into him. "Oh I'm so---" The words caught in the Prince's throat as silver-green eyes rather immediately swept downward to evaluate Cersei's appearance even as she stepped around him with a smile. Force give me the strength...

Shaking his head slightly, Caid made his way back towards his chair. Unlike before, he elected to take a seat, avoiding the potential of him staring at the beauty that they'd collected from Malagarr all evening. Or at least...for the forty-five minutes it would take them to reach the ground.

"This works, yes?"

Caid's rear had just touched the cushion when he heard the soft voice of the Princess of Malagarr. Shifting his head in her direction, he permitted his eyes to literally drink in her appearance once more as a roguish smile etched its way into his features. "Yeah." Something that sounded like a brief, clipped laugh escaped his lips as he turned his head back forward and fastened his restraints. "I don't think anybody is going to take issue with your attire."

Right now, Caid was considering the implications of having their own celebration on board and blowing off the Qixi Festival entirely.

----------
Forty-Five Minutes Later

Caid offered his arm to the stunning Princess from Malagarr just before they stepped off the Nightstalker's loading ramp. "Don't be out here trying to pick up strays." The Sith Lord winked playfully, not particularly knowing if she would understand the joke. Casually, he stepped forward with Cersei as they made their way towards the interior of the party.

 

[Marek Starchaser]

Vice and words. Those were the tools that Marek would use. Sure, once upon a time, he was a Templar, and a Knight Obsidian, but now he was more in the executive role than anything else. He knew that he was a threat to people when he put his mind to it, but there were other ways to fight a war. And if he could convince his Masters that he was someone who could be used more for his talented tongue than he was a warrior. His cousin, the Jedi Master, was the warrior.

But in his time, Marek had been known to command forces, and the Force itself to help turn a battlefield into something that could be used to the advantage, or disadvantage of anyone around him. Altering the environment, summoning the storm, and throwing the pure destructive power of the Force, its light or dark side didn’t matter, just the Force and its power, at the enemy. He knew the power came from him, and he pulled from everywhere he could, but it was not something he could count on, not something he wanted to count on.

But he was here, on Hypori, and this was his arena, somewhere he could talk through issues. And hopefully make it so the rest knew what he was here for, who he was, and what he was capable of. Looking around, there were some familiar faces, many other ones who were not. He stepped to the bar and grabbed himself a drink. Now, where were the other businessmen, the Techno Union was still a thing, wasn’t it?

 

[Naedira Darcrath]

Objective: CIS Security
Location: Qixi Festival [Lounge/Music Area]
Time: Evening
Thoughts: [member="Aiden"]
Thoughts: "Suddenly, overdressed."

---

Her body loosened its sharpness bit by bit when she was given leave to do so. Every crisp line of her form, every angle, seemed to soften immeasurably. He spoke his name, assumingly, to keep her from calling him by the appropriate titles. Great. Another one. What was with the Confederate Royalty and their need to avoid the positions they’d signed up for? It wasn’t like there was any shame in it. There was prestige. Respect. Yet, they always sought to eclipse it. To hide it.

Strange people.

“Naedira, then.”, she murmured softly. If the Minister of War wanted her to refer to him informally then he ought to do the same. It was only fair. A singular well-arched brow rose at the response the broad-shouldered man gave her about his intent. Because he could? Ah, there was the political clout she’d been searching for. Many did things simply because they could, without ever wondering, if they very well should. What purpose did this serve? “You are generous, then. Some of the titled take offense from a bow that doesn’t fall deeply enough...”

When the Knight Obsidian often thought that there were worse assignments than the Exarch it was born of experience. Many of the Viceroy was actually royalty on their worlds and expected to be treated with the same reverence and prostration that their people displayed. Most Knights couldn’t care less what pampered and spoiled life their charges had led. They didn’t warrant bending the knee. At best, they were protected, kept alive, and that was good enough. More than some deserved.

Nae could be slow to learn sometimes, but, she did learn—and it eventually sunk in that the Minister was giving her mandatory time off. Nothing had gone topsy-turvy. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She hadn’t missed anything. The olive-skinned woman remained curious as a fellow Knight pulled through the crowd speedily, appearing just as confused, with the abrupt change in protocol. “…No one has personal duties to Exarch Talon. She merely holds a preference for the company she keeps.”

The Echani did not suffer fools, in any capacity, and though she was beholden to the whims of her Master she still tried to exercise control of those in her presence. The Vicelord wanted his frostbitten apprentice protected. The Knights conformed and Srina deigned to oblige them in a series of long concessions that she made in regards to her personal space.

Naedira was one of those concessions.

Aiden motioned that the young Knight make his advance and the slim woman let her superior do the talking. This was his problem, truth be told, since he’d decided to spring her from her invisible cell. His answers had been insufficient. Still, the dark-haired Nabooian wondered why. Why her? There were a dozen others standing sentry from her Order around the Festival and Aiden didn’t seem the type to act on whimsy. “Are you surprised? A Minister taking the duties of a subordinate is curious.”

She couldn’t remember his predecessor doing that.

When ordered to relax she exhaled slowly. The Obsidian armor was light by design but when she wasn’t wearing it for some sort of purpose it felt strangely heavy. Chocolate eyes turned toward Aiden as they fleetingly searched his expression, looking for clues, before they flickered down toward the tops of her boots. “Thank you.”

It was the appropriate response. Polite in a flawless sense that bespoke of well-to-do upbringing.

He didn’t know that she needed to work. Needed to keep busy. She had become a creature of focus and intent. Walking around the Qixi Festival aimless, without a goal, or anyone that she really knew felt daunting. She stepped down from the dais that led to the Gazebo and tried to decide what to do quietly. She had a change of clothes in her ship, as she always had something to spare, but it was nothing fancy like the rest of the CIS in attendance.

Her shoulders were tight, still, as if she was hiding some sort of treasure in her core. As if someone wanted to take it away. It was then that she realized that she felt eyes on her person. It was subtle enough that she couldn't pinpoint where it came from [[member="William the Bloody"]] but enough that it felt specific. Taking a deep breath she turned back toward the Minister and the kiss of her mouth formed a slight curve. It might have been a ghost of a smile. “Would you care to walk me back to my ship? If I’m off duty I think I need to change.”

 

[Queen Bots™]

Purpose: Make Nice with CIS Personnel [Geonosian Aristocrat]

Location: General Wishing Tree area at the Qixi Festival

Gaza blinked. Large bulbous eyes flickered over a metal contraption that walked around with a singular red photoreceptor sticking out in the dim lighting. His head reared back and his fingers twisted momentarily around his knuckles. What a strange droid [@Osintrium]. He had never seen anything like it. With what appeared to be some sort of power core in the center. His head shook. Strange, engineering design.

It was then that he became aware of the painful buzzing of a humanoid ringing in his head. His whole body turned to address the disturbance, with a faint lift from his wings, before he settled back down to the ground. Why did this slick-haired pompous noble speak to him? Why did he darken his already darkened evening? Was it not enough that he was present? Playing nice?

Zara would pay dearly for this indignity.

“[click] A pity [click].”

His word was openly snide with the confident smile that this man wore. He seemed vaguely familiar. Obviously, they must have crossed paths, however, the insectoid couldn’t be bothered to remember the details. The initial negotiations perhaps? Gaza looked left and right. Apparently, looking for an easy way out of this discussion. He didn’t want to deal with this bag of blood any more than he wanted to be standing amongst such sniveling, meaningless, drones. He gave a sigh, full of clicks, as the man spoke again. “If you [click] must… [click] [click].”

“Speak. [click] I haven’t got all evening and a cripple should not stand so long.”

He was referring to the cane that [member="Adron Malvern"] held. Why else would an organic be using a device that was designed to aid in keeping balance? Certainly, this creature had to be handicapped. Or deformed. Or any manner of a weakling. How could their kind hope to withstand the heat and intensities of the foundry if they couldn’t handle everyday life without some sort of stick to help them walk?

Pitiful.