Public New Year Gala | Kingdom of Naboo

[Lossa Aureus]

Objective: 1 - Dance Hall
Wearing: Dress and Heels
Tags: Gatz Derrevar Briana Sal-Soren

She'd been taking a sip when Gatz appeared.

Commenting on her drink as a grin emerged from behind the rim of the glass. The final action of her sip now caught in manual thought as she rolled her eyes playfully, making a pained gulp at having to think about the action in question. Covering her mouth with her wrist as if holding the drink out for his inspection.

"No alcohol this time around." She informed him, a final turn of her head as she pondered what exactly to tell him. "Learned from the last two... three times."

The grin shifting into a slight grimace at the realization of her tendencies. Her gaze drifting as he mentioned needing to find Briana to the dancing crowds around them. She'd been enjoying her little hiding place long enough now, it was probably time to vacate for someone else.

"Dancing the last time I saw her. I'll help you find her but," Draining the drink with a final swirl before setting it down and holding her hand out for help. "Gotta help me up first."

Perhaps she was being greedy by asking, but she didn't want him to leave just yet.

And stealing a few moments to feel grounded, appreciated, rather than stared at like a prospective choice made her feel all the better. Especially when it was someone she genuinely liked. She just hoped that would last through the night rather than go how her mind had predicted it would.

 

[Lina Ovmar]

Lina's heart was hammering, frozen in place as he spoke, green eyes locked on blue as he came closer and closer. The noise from the ballroom was drowned out by the buzzing in her mind.

He's a Zambrano. He's Carnifex's son. He is the enemy. You cannot. You should not.

The kiss was gentle, and she found her hands trailing up to rest on his chest, his words, whispered against her lips shattered her resolve. "Sarlow...I..."

No.

She withdrew sharply, turning her back on him, resting her hands on the balconies railings and sucking in a deep breath of the cool night air to steady herself. She despised this, despised that he had gotten to her so easily. He was a complication in her long plan...

Unless he wasn't? Unless actually, it was exactly what she needed to further solidify her success. Another piece on the board.

"You have tormented me. Drawing me in but keeping me distant, chasing your brothers from me." She began, slowly I left a woman I love deeply on Malsheem, to come looking for you, to seek you." She turned back to face him. "You were cold, Sarlow, impossibly so. And now this?"

Lina closed the gap again, hands upon his chest, lips close to his. "You are maddening. And yet, all I want is more of you. but you are his son." a cold reminder, that the only reason they were ever to have met, was because Darth Carnifex had enslaved her. "I am my mother's daughter, Sarlow, Know this. Know what it means. And understand what it will cost you. But do not say it out loud, because he will hear"

Sarlow Zambrano

 

[Sycorax Laveaux]

Objective I
Attire: xxx
Tags: Treoff Kellak​

‘The freedom of choice is bestowed to all who may choose life’? She got the gist, and gave him a polite, appreciative nod.

"I regret that I may not vote on it,, seeing as I am incapable due to not being a Senator, but if I may ever offer my support in another way, know that if you ask me to do what is right, I will always do what is right."

“Really?” She sipped her drink. “And how do you always know what’s right?”

He sputtered a laugh in response to her blunt question, but for a fleeting few moments he dropped the act. Treoff Kellak wasn’t a gangster, but he’d made friends with criminals. That rather undercut his earlier statement about always doing what was right, but Sycorax was used to dealing with the unscrupulous. Doubly so the unscrupulous who believed themselves just.

“But you are a mercenary. Who have you fought lately?”

 

[Sarlow Zambrano]

The information of a woman left behind would be stored away for later, Sarlow would have to inquire with his father later. His attention though, remained on Lina, he would chase any man from her. He hung his head low when she mentioned just how cold he had been. Sarlow knew she was right, he had kept her at a distance. Lina had to be kept at distance or else he was to do exactly what he did that night. An action the Wolf Prince did not regret. It was how she said that he was his son, that he shrunk back.

But then, she had kissed him in return.

Anaya Fen. Ovmar. He had dug up the information sometime ago, Sarlow knew what Lina implied when it came to cost. Still, the Son of Darth Carnifex had a strategy of his own, not just to win Lina's heart but to secure it. With her at his side, they would be unmatched, the galaxy could be theirs. The cost? What is the cost of not moving forward. To remain as he was, a dull man with a melancholy heart. No, Sarlow had little desire to remain as such and so he replied, "know that going forward the barrier between us, the ice I have placed will have melted. I hear your words and comprehend their meaning."

He rested his forehead against hers.

"Whatever you seek, you will have in due time, one way or another," his words lingered on, the tone of Sarlow's voice sincere, "but you must now understand what it will mean when we return to the crowd beyond the balcony doors. Your position, your status within the house will have changed." Even if under it all she was still his father's slave. Such chains would be broken, that much the Wolf Prince would seek to break. Even if it meant doing so with his own two hands.

His hands in hers.

Lina Ovmar ​

 

[BB-610]

IN YOUR HEART SHALL BURN

| LOCATION: Naboo |
| TAG: Jasper Kai'el | Braze |


Whirring softly, the astromech gave a solemn nod in response to Jasper's question, but made no future comment. His attention was very clearly lingering on Darth Carnifex , his optic scrutinizing the man as though to peer into his very soul. Something felt wrong about the Sith, a ghosting sensation that weighed far heavier than any past experiences with his kind. He'd locked eyes with the dark figure that towered over him for the faintest of seconds, and it had been more than enough to throw BB-610 completely behind Jasper for protection.

As the Jedi's Padawan wandered over, the astromech felt a smidge more confident - Braze had an air of casualness that helped sway the creeping feeling of dread that the Sith had spawned. It was shortlived, however, as BB-610 could only reel in horror at the tales uttered by Jasper, listening attentively as vivid imagery haunted his droidbrain. Were this the BB-610 of old, he'd most certainly be trembling uncontrollably.

He'd try to pull it together, though, for the sake of enjoying the celebration he'd been lucky enough to attend. A sense of normalcy was blanketed over him as Jasper introduced his Padawan, with BB-610 finally finding it in himself to poke out from behind the Jedi's legs and roll closer to his apprentice.

BB-610 chirped in greeting, his binary trying its best to dismiss its nerves as he told Braze that it was nice to meet him, and that he's Valery's droid. A custom he'd learned from humans, one of the astromech's discs slid open to expose his utility arm, outstretched in offer of a handshake.

He'd look to Jasper once more, droidspeak growing ever more serious as he bweeped that the Sith had murdered an entire party he'd been assigned to. Optic narrowing, BB-610 continued, mentioning that he felt as though looking at him made the droid feel... incomplete.

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

There was a shift in the air, there was a shift in her. For in this moment after all, she was the only person that mattered, oh certainly cautious eyes, and vigilant hairs had made it certain that he knew there were people watching him, watching them both, but he cared little and little more for them. No violence had been declared so far, and thus for him, nothing at all mattered, but this embrace, this moment of warmth, this feeling of utter ease and devotion.

And he hated that he had somehow triggered something ugly and painful.

And he knew exactly what it was that had set it off.

After all, he had seen what set it off.

Experienced it himself after all.

The gloved hand, one which was not entirely unusual for events like this, but which he had found himself wearing more and more as of late, ever since Archais really, even if he did not expect to see her, even if he did not intend to speak to her, the gloves reminded him always, of that woman with red eyes, and golden silver locks. The gloved hand rose from her waist, their dance already so slow, stopping for but a moment, as he lifted her chin, red eyes staring into red, their lips so tantalisingly close.

"Mevia and her insecurities do not define you, darling," The psychometry had let him experience her wounds both physical and psychological inflicted by the Chiss woman, though it was not as if Malum was a stranger to the Chiss' antics. A powerful adversary.

Who only lived because Elise called her sister.

"Your capability, your intellect, are only rivalled by your beauty, as the rose, so radiant, you would not allow them to pluck you without unveiling your thorns." None could claim that Malum had not fallen for a dangerous woman.

Their dance began again, as his hand returned to her waist, as she leaned in close, and rested herself on his shoulder, his mouth had long since gone dry, as all that was left was the ghost of a smile upon his face, as their feet moved instinctually to the tune of the music, there was little care for technique or flourish, only their closeness.

They had sacrificed much in this, for her the Force was a curse, for him, the Force was a slavemaster, both defined by it, both hating its will. It was their punishment in that way, to be so close, yet still be kept apart. It was a funny thing, it was not just their allegiances, but to the gods themselves, who had proclaimed their union to be something unholy, something unnatural, something that could only bring them pain.

Yet they could not stop how they longed for each other so.

He smirked, "You do not know the temptation I feel, no matter what I see, to simply lean down and rest myself against you, to feel you close, to... hold you as another couple in the universe could hold each other. Is it selfishness to simply want, what all others have? Is it selfishness, for me to desire the most beautiful woman in the galaxy, despite the fear, the pain, the suffering?" The smirk was wiped from his face, as he leaned in, seeming to finally break that final boundary, yet stopping short of it yet again, separated by mere millimetres, but to all others, they were as close as could be, "For my heart wants this selfishness, it wants the fear, the pain, the suffering," his voice dropped down to the barest whispers.

"It wants you."

Elise Ahana-Gwyneira

​

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Outfit: X
Tag: Lossa Aureus Briana Sal-Soren
Objective: 1 - Dance Hall

"Good, I so would have hated to have to carry you home." Gatz gave a grin that made it obvious that he wouldn't have minded in the slightest.

Non-alcoholic drinks tonight? She'd learned her lesson, at least. Even if it took two or three tries. That still made her more receptive to learning from her mistakes than he was. And, Gatz was glad to hear of it. Lossa being sober meant that she might even have a chance of enjoying tonight, which in turn meant that maybe he had a chance of enjoying tonight.

Enjoyment wasn't something that existed in Gatz's life. Like, ever. So a chance to spend a night with a pretty girl, whom he was already quite enamored with, wasn't something he was willing to pass up. Did that make him opportunistic? Greedy? Probably.

But then, he had been a scoundrel.

Lossa demanded his help in pulling her to her feet. Gatz knew what game she was playing. And, typically, she was a far better player than he was. But not tonight. Tonight, his goal was to sweep her off her feet—literally, if she'd let him. So when she offered her (only) hand, he didn't simply pull her up. He took it in his own, smiled at her, and placed a chaste kiss against it.

"It would be my pleasure."

Gatz pulled Lossa to his feet, and if allowed, linked her arm in his own. Unfortunately, that did mean that Lossa was entirely without a free hand but... he had one to spare if she needed it.

Now to find Briana. Gatz pondered on that for a moment. If he were Briana, and he was at a gala filled with Sith Lords and crime syndicates, where would he—

"I bet you ten credits we find Briana at the bar." He didn't need a mind meld to know that, "we should make a beeline there. I'd like to offer her a dance before she's too tipsy to waltz. Then I'm yours for the rest of the night."

 

[Aiden Rennek]

​

Aiden tucked on his collar and flashed himself a cocky, Corellian grin in the mirror. He shouldn't have been here. The frontlines had demanded him away from this part of his life. From Briana, most of all. But the stars had aligned and Aiden had been among the lucky few allowed some time away to rest, recover and spend time with family and friends around the turn of the New Year.

What better way to celebrate, than by surprising the love of his life?

Aiden pushed open the bathroom door and started walking down the hall inside the palace. He had only just returned, so there was no custom suit but just his military dress uniform. It wouldn't have been the same without Briana's input anyway, so he hoped she wouldn't mind either.

The Marine stepped into the ballroom with an air of confidence about him. His green eyes pierced through the crowd, searching for her, but he found it no trouble to notice the woman he was here for. Briana was something else, and even though he could tell that it wasn't easy for her to be here, she presented herself with her head held high and a beauty no person here could hope to match.

Lucky bastard, he told himself with a grin.

Hoping she hadn't sensed his presence within such a dense crowd just yet, Aiden began to sneak his way closer by following the outskirts of people. She was heading for the bar to get herself a drink, so he waited for her back to be turned his way, before he casually walked over to stop right next to her, "You weren't thinking about a dance without me, were you?" He let the words linger for a moment, before he slowly turned his head to look at the expression his presence would spark. Then, he winked.

"You look beautiful, babe." He finally turned his body towards her and spent a moment just looking at her. When he had convinced himself that all of this was real, he closed the distance with slow, determined steps, and held out his arms to welcome her into a tight embrace.

He was glad to have made it.

Briana Sal-Soren Lossa Aureus Gatz Derrevar ​

 

[Braze]

TAGS: BB-610 Jasper Kai'el

Braze's expression turned into a frown upon hearing the term 'Sith goo.' With a swift, decisive motion, he promptly discarded his entire tray directly into the gaping maw of a nearby trash receptacle. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret as he watched the cupcakes - which he had been particularly looking forward to - disappear into the bin. Despite his disappointment, Braze was surprisingly obedient when it came to following Jasper's orders and guidance.

"Yeah that guy sounds like a total black hole. "

Shifting his attention, Braze cast a curious glance down at the droid as it was introduced. He made a conscious effort to push aside the serious, somewhat gloomy air that had settled around them. Extending his hand, he warmly grasped BB-610's 'hand' and shook it with a friendly smile. "It's nice to meet you. I think I recall seeing you on Ilum during a small mission I was on," Braze remarked, his voice reflecting his good memory for this particular model and its distinctive paint job.

"Are you enjoying the festivities so far?" Braze inquired cheerfully. "It's a shame we haven't finished working on Aether's new vessel. I think he's someone you'd like to meet." His tone was light and conversational. "Right now, he's encased in a mouse droid, though, exploring the temple back on Coruscant."

 

[Treoff Kellak]

Objectives: 1 & 3 (later)
Sycorax Laveaux​

Outfit​

“Really?” ... “And how do you always know what’s right?”​

"No one does, truly, honestly, factually," he sighed, "it's what you feel, in that moment, what leads to your decision. Realistically, what is right, is an opinion." Treoff looked down, his arms coming up to clutch against himself. His right hand held his left elbow, as his left hand opened the palm, facing up, as if gesturing for the Senator. "When I was a child, my father didn't exactly 'make friends' with those he worked with - the Coruscanti Mafia, as an example - they just hired him to do work. He did that work. Did he agree with the dastardly things they did? The crime? The murders? The corruption? No. But in that moment, when they hired him, they weren't commiting a crime. Does that justify him doing something good for them? You see, right and wrong, can be argued until the banthas come home." Treoff stopped, he sighed as he couldn't speak so genuinely with this act anymore, speaking with his gruff, 'Under vernacular. "My point is, I will do honest work for honest people, as my father did. If you lie to me, I have no reason to bother with you. If you put someone in the dirt yesterday, a month ago, a year ago, - it's not something worth spending an hour debating over if I should do work for you. It's just remodeling a wall, fixing a floor, or guarding a house. You want to know how I know when something is right or wrong? I already told you. Freedom is for everyone that have the ability to choose. Everyone should be able to do whatever makes them happy, so long as it does not directly, negatively affect another. Me punching you? That's direct, that's negative. An insult? You choose to be injured, it's negative but not direct. You point to any Sith in this room, and I'll tell you, if I know them, I will know what is right or wrong. But words," he made a 'yap yap yap' talking gesture with his left hand, "everyone can have an opinion, everyone can manipulate an opinion into their favor." He shrugged, "show me the facts. Show me... that they infringed upon the freedom of another, directly, negatively, and I'll show you the right path. Now," he scoffed, "was that worth debating philosphy with a mercenary?" He smiled, taking it in stride, not being overtly serious.

“But you are a mercenary. Who have you fought lately?”​

Treoff nodded slowly, "yes, in my youth, when my father still lived, I would volunteer for just about any army. I believed I was doing the right thing back then. Since his passing.... I've..." Treoff seemed to really struggle, the memories of his father affecting him seriously, "hopefully grown into something he approves of. I - with mixed feelings - have fought against the Mandalorian Enclave. Though that's something I prefer to keep in the past. I vehemently sided with the Galactic Alliance when I first started throwing myself into war. Now... I wish to mend relations with Mandalorians, explore their culture, and seek forgiveness for where I have done wrong, but I do not seek forgiveness for where I did right. I've been a volunteer for many armies, fighting the Sith, Imperials, even once or twice the Silver Order... I've been to Alvaria, Stygeon, and Thyferra. You asked lately. I promise you, I'm not proud of everything I did, when my father died, my priorities changed.

His left hand tensed up, his face looking uneasy, until he released all of his tension, "but I do beg of you.... mercenary certainly comes with a lot of baggage in the galaxy today. If you would, refer to me as a security specialist. I'm a protector now, not a.... killer."

 

[Annika Starfire]

​

Location: Naboo
Objective: Objective 2: the gardens
Tags: Ansisa Rayth Vazz
Gear: in bio

Wearing: this (but with a hat)

The appearance of Vazz and his judgement of her jibes gave Annika a little start, but she couldn't help but enjoy the discomfort she immediately felt in Ansisa . She didnt say anythjng to the knight as the Chiss babbled some weak condescending apology on her behalf.

It's not her fault she's a brainless whore

"Imaginative" she muttered so only the chiss could hear her, Annika was hardly brainless, it would have been nice to hear something better if she truly wanted to impress her master. As the Knight left and the Chiss turned to face her, to taunt her more while glancing at Rayth . Annika couldn't help herself but look at the slender form of the Chiss as she commented on her lack of need for validation from men. "Hey, validation can be a lot of fun if you find the right one" she laughed before the other girl came close and booped her gently on the nose in a teasing manner. A puff of the force and she was gone.

"Failed attempt my ass." she said to herself as she pulled out her device. She had lost a couple of hundred thousand followers recently due to her split focus with the academy, but she still had millions and the income was still coming in.

Annika adjusted her hat, only just now realising how much pheremone she was unconsciously emitting as the Chiss had poked her buttons. She reached out with the force and one of the shoes came from the bushes to her hand. They were cute, she had to give it to the girl, she had taste. "Damn" the chiss was half a foot taller than her, of course her feet were two sizes too big. She tossed the shoe back and glanced at Rayth, seeing him chat to another man. She would leave him to it for a little bit, he needed to socialise. But she pulled out her holo and sent him a little message. Before blowing a kiss in his direction.

 

[Sycorax Laveaux]

Objective I
Attire: xxx
Tags: Treoff Kellak​

Sycorax was quiet as Treoff gave his lengthy spiel about right and wrong (mostly because he gave her no opportunity to respond; all his questions proved rhetorical, and he seemed to jump from one scenario to the next without pausing to give them a chance to discuss it in any detail). Eventually she emptied her glass and placed it on the tray of a passing server droid.

"Now, was that worth debating philosophy with a mercenary?"

“We’re not having a debate,” she said. “Thus far, I have asked all of the questions, and you have given me your answers. It’s more like an interrogation, in that sense.” Which was to say that he talked too much, and always about himself, like a self-absorbed crime suspect trying to make themselves look good to the scrutinizing police. "But if a philosophical debate is what you want...

“In my religion, there is the Master of Cerements, and there is the bocor. One is a priest, the other a sorcerer. The priest serves the spirits with his right hand—only for good. But the bocor serves with both hands, for good and for evil. In fact, he believes there is no good and no evil, that it is a false distinction, and we all simply do what we feel is right…” Having raised her hands for emphasis, she curled her fingers inward. “In the end, the bocor serves only himself, doing as he pleases.

“So, I ask you—how can you claim right and wrong are subjective, while also giving yourself the power to enforce your own sense of justice? Either there is objective right and wrong, or you are not the 'protector' you categorize yourself as. You're just another gun for hire, albeit a choosy one.”

 

[Ijaat Mereel]

It had been years and literal lifetimes since he had worn such garb. But early in his life had been spent at the imperial courts in Atrisia and the palaces of Adumar learning swordmanship, and so when needed he could move amongst such echelons of society. It grated him, but as on Adumar with Aerin, he had Mia Monroe to encourage his manners and require his presence. Dressed in formal robes of black from near chin to ankle, he wore black leather glove-gauntlets and near knee high boots of black rancor leather. At his collar rode twin pins of mythosaur bone and beskar, shaped in the form of the Mythosaur Skull of the True Mandalorians, his ancestral symbol. An odd blend of both formal finery and swordsman gear. Warrior and diplomat. It chafed, but he could play the part. Manda, he had even shaved and such for this foppery.

Offering an arm, he eyed the attendant as they sighted him and their eyes both took in Mia and himself with some confusion. Whilst they were far from the only or even the first Mandalorians to make an appearance, the title given was known to even outsiders and idiots, and so he smiled and prompted the young man once more, almost gently, and stepped into the room as they were announced, beskar heel irons and toe caps after the military fashion clicking softly on the fine floors.

"Ijaat of House Mereel, Manda'lor the Rekindler and Mia Monroe of Clan Ordo."

With that done, he urged Mia further in with him, catching a serving try with wine on it and offering her a glass as gazes and murmurs drew their way. In his mind, Ijaat couldn't decide if it was due to his title and presence, or at seeing Mia in a dress. He voiced as much in a near-silent tone only she could hear as they took up a place on the fringe near the entrance and waited. It was both anxiety and protocol driven on his part. You didn't go to others when your station was high enough. They came to you.

And while he was far from unarmed even with just fine leather gloves, he came not to start a fight this day, but to both show and be shown the respect owed to his claim.

 

[Mairéad Solus]

​

Location: Naboo event
Objective: Greet Ijaat
Tags: Ijaat Mereel Mia Monroe

Spoiler: Equipment:

Velmorite bladed lightsaber in purse
Ladies Watch
Serenity bracelet
FDS-4F blaster pistol in lumbar holster
Empyrean Gland
The Family Finger
Marzanna
Datapad

Mai had come to this gala on Naboo for a bit of rest and relaxation, but also to network with movers and shakers of the galaxy. She had already negotiated a spice deal with a gang operating out of the swamps, she had showered twice since that meeting and could still smell gungan. It wasn't a criticism, they were a good people, but aquatic races just had an odour you couldn't shift.

"Ijaat of House Mereel, Manda'lor the Rekindler and Mia Monroe of Clan Ordo."

Her ears pricked up, it was a name she had been hoping to meet. She had invested quite a substantial amount of money into his rebuilding project of mandalore and it was only proper that she introduced herself at some point. Now was as good a time as and and by the vain announcement it sounded like he wanted some attention.

"Ok senator, I will ensure those tapes are deleted once the remaining funds are transferred, it has been a pleasure." she nodded politely at her drinking guest and walked away, sending a quick message to her Capodecina to confirm the deal, it was vulgar but she wouldn't turn down easy money.

She walked across the room with her drink in hand to approach Ijaat Mereel and Mia Monroe . "Good evening Alor Mereel, its a pleasure to finally meet you. Mairéad of House Solus, mine is the half completed high rise in your new business district in Keldabe, and Miss Monroe, a pleasure once again." she nodded her head gracefully in greeting to the pair. The MS building would be a jewel in the city and be a boon to the economy, Mairéad stood to make a lot of money in the long term, but she was also ensuring to be a fair businesswoman in this venture and her priority for the short term was economic prosperity of the other vod trying to rebuild lives on the shattered planet.

 

[Mia Monroe]

Mia disliked the announcement, for no reason other than the fact that it drew attention and she was already uncomfortable enough in the dress. Her feet were already sore, she was missing the comfort of her beskar'gam, but above all of it, she was deeply uncomfortable with the lack of any weapon. They had just stepped into a lion's den. Not only that, she had been keeping her return to the land of the living on as small a profile as she could. It had allowed her the ability to pass unnoticed, to gather information on how the galaxy had shifted in the last forty years. Now though?

She could feel a target growing on their backs. Targets made her job of protecting Ijaat that much harder.

Ijaat pressed a glass of wine into her hand and made a comment about her dress, insinuating it was drawing eyes their way., she shot him a warning look. <"I love you, but I'm burning this dress when we're done here, so don't get used to it."> Mando'a rolled from her tongue in an equally low tone, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She rested a hand on his chest looking up at him and for the tension eased in her shoulders, her head tilted. <"If you're lucky, I might let you help me tear it up later.">

Mia didn't often flirt, but then she also never wore a dress. Hiding her smirk behind her glass as she took a drink, turning slightly to scan the room. She spotted a few familiar faces, all engaged in conversation or dancing. She caught a glimpse of Elise's blonde hair, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She looked wonderful in her red dress, clearly taking the event in her stride and dancing with-

Mia choked on her wine.

Malum?!

She was coughing, when Maidred approached them, tears stinging her eyes. Taking a second to recover herself, she dipped her head in greeting to the young mandalorian business woman. "Hello Maidred, its good to see you again." she cleared her throat, though the wine was still burning the back of it, looking past her again to track Elise and Malum across the dancefloor. What was that girl doing?!

She contemplated going over, dragging the girl away to chastise her for fraternizing with the enemy. But then wasn't Malum her ally? Also, she couldn't exactly cause a scene so soon after entering. She was powerless to just watch, filing the topic away to deal with later. She tore her gaze away scanning for any other familiar faces.

Ijaat Mereel Mairéad Solus Elise Ahana-Gwyneira Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Lina Ovmar]

His words were far more powerful than any binding in blood they had preformed. If he truly knew, if her truly understood that her intention would be to break the chains around her and bring Darth Carnifex to his knees, then was he truly willing to betray his father. There was till so much she didn't know about him, so much she didn't understand about wat he had suffered following his curse.

What if he was lying? What if this was another trap, another game set by him?

But they had a blood binding contract, to never betray one another.

As his forehead pressed against hers she felt her fears melt away as her want, her need for him to be close overrode them.

"I understand." she breathed against his lips. There was a brief moment of hesitation, a final breath before settled herself on whatever path this was. She kissed him, her hand snaking up to the back of his neck to draw him in.

Sarlow Zambrano

 

[Anodyne Lyori]

OPEN​

This gala was becoming something of a crisis of faith for the Jelucan ambassador. She might have had a strained relationship with her aristocratic roots, but Anodyne still understood the importance of diplomacy. This, however, seemed to go almost too far in that direction.

There were known Sith Lords here. Men who had butchered countless innocent lives all for the sake of their own sadistic and despostic desires. Prior to this night, Anodyne had been quite sure that any sane person in the galaxy could agree that their presence was intolerable. Naboo seemed to disagree. And so did the Jedi.

Because there were known Jedi here too. Defenders of justice and peace in a galaxy full of strife. Tonight they were mingling with the other invitees as if there were nothing out of the ordinary. Choosing to attend and enjoy a celebration that welcomed their mortal enemies. Did some individuals have doubts? Anodyne certainly hoped so. But the passivity of it all alarmed her greatly. How could this be tolerated? All for one planet so obsessed with maintaining its neutrality that it would make bedfellows with each and every one of the galaxy's encroaching factions.

Jelucan wanted nothing more than to avoid the Sith menace. It was why Anodyne had been sent to represent them to the Alliance. But now her fears only grew; If her home came under threat, would the Alliance come to their aid, or would they be too busy rubbing elbows with the very same oppressors, for the sake of securing a more "strategically valuable" planet?

Force, this job was stressful. She needed some air. Anodyne headed for the Royal Gardens.

 

[Caelia Lamora]

​

Objective 1 | Tag: Todblaz Graker | Wearing: x

It was a lovely gathering of new friends and enemies for the Oroccan noble.

She had entered, as they all had, and received the steward’s announcement. Caelia Noelle of House Lamora, daughter and heir to Duke Lamora of Orocco, etc etc etc. She was here as an ambassador of Orocco, a planet only recently opened up by decree of the newly crowned ass with bejeweled hat. Caelia’s ambitions were entirely selfish, however. She was here to build her own network. Still, she couldn’t avoid thanking Kalantha on behalf of the Oroccan monarch, and pass his love and wish for their people may grow through shared trade and prosperty. All that good stuff.

Her dress had been picked out for her a week ago. The dress she actually wore today had been picked up two days since. Caelia wasn’t one to have decisions made for her. It was a play on colour and floral decor, which molded itself to her form with seamless elegance.

She picked up a glass from the tray of a roaming waiter while her eyes examined the crowd. This gathering was certainly… Diverse. She’d never met a Sith before, but Darth Carnifex looked like he walked straight out of one of her books. Had she known how old he was, she might’ve suspected he had actually been the source of her reading.

Sith were here, and unmistakably there were Jedi about too. She was very curious about their lot, but equally keen to avoid having their attention returned back to her. There were Mandalorians, who remained a mystery to her, and even a Hutt on a floater no less. It promised to be an eventful evening.

Who knew, maybe one of them could even show her a thing or two about the Force, or point her in the direction of an artifact which could.

​

 

[Clarron Vall]

Objectives 1&2
Open​

Vall finally gave up on the drinks as the evening wore on, both because no amount seemed to produce an effect, and because it seemed impolite to leave so little for everyone else. Not that they'd have noticed. The night itself was apparently intoxicant enough for most. Ah, to be young and idealistic again, he thought, watching more than one starry-eyed couple reunite. In truth, he wasn't yet out of his mid twenties (at least as far as biology were concerned) but as he'd heard before, it wasn't the years, it was the mileage.

He'd been mileaged up to and past the breaking point, else maybe he'd have died at his "proper" time. Sometimes he wondered if he had, and that he wasn't just a machine apeing the memories of a dead stormtrooper. That would certainly explain why the wine didn't work, but so did a synthetic liver. The time spent painfully treating his own organic battle-damage with his very crude and basic medical knowledge somewhat reassured him otherwise.

His sense of isolation deepened profoundly in one instant, seeming to sweep all else aside, and its intensity left him breathless. It had been there before, but he was used to that in the short time he'd been operating in the "modern" galaxy. Even if he hadn't been a man out of time, he were hardly a man proper at all anymore. Just a man's mind, and most of a man's body.

The new power in the galaxy was one that, as far as he could see, repeated the same mistakes as the old Republic, and though he'd heard of an Imperial state or two hanging around, so far he wasn't impressed. Warlords and other authoritarian strongmen, tarnishing the legacy of something great, mere children squatting in the ashes. They admired the pageantry and the imagery without understanding what the Empire had stood for, or what Vall imagined it had. If a person arose who did do that legacy justice, who embodied that ideal, he'd be there, he decided. Someone would, eventually. Ideals didn't have expiration dates.

Maybe he was drunk after all, or what passed for it. He was seldom so sentimental, but being here impressed upon him the sheer magnitude of what had changed. Previously, he'd only processed the date shown on the ship's computer, when he'd fired it up for the first time, in an intellectual way. Just another mission, just another challenge. A mission wasn't much use when everyone he knew was dead, though. No command structure, nobody to report to, only him. What did he want?

For a moment, he didn't know. Nobody had ever asked him. He'd never asked himself.

He decided what he wanted was to enjoy the night, and face tomorrow's realities when he got there. Tonight, nothing mattered. A night to be human for a bit before he went back to doing his duty. Whatever happened, he was going to have fun if it was his final act. He just wasn't sure he remembered how.

 

[Treoff Kellak]

Objectives: 1 & 3 (later)
Sycorax Laveaux​

Outfit​

"But if a philosophical debate is what you want...​

'The concept of a joke is not cle-'

“In my religion, there is the Master of Cerements, and there is the bocor. One is a priest, the other a sorcerer. The priest serves the spirits with his right hand—only for good. But the bocor serves with both hands, for good and for evil. In fact, he believes there is no good and no evil, that it is a false distinction, and we all simply do what we feel is right…” ... “In the end, the bocor serves only himself, doing as he pleases.​

Treoffs eyelids slowly began to close and open, he was not appearing to be quite enthralled as philosophy turned to religion. Though, perhaps it was to be expected, just so. 'Religion...' he sighed.

“So, I ask you—how can you claim right and wrong are subjective, while also giving yourself the power to enforce your own sense of justice? Either there is objective right and wrong, or you are not the 'protector' you categorize yourself as. You're just another gun for hire, albeit a choosy one.”​

Treoff shook his head, clearing his throat as he forced his clean voice and demeanor from before, "there is no factual, outward right or wrong," his arms released from their hold as his right hand pointed at the center of his chest, "there is only what one believes. My right and wrong will never be one-to-one with your right and wrong." His jaw tensed as his eyes focused onto the Senator, showing he was thinking. "That is why," he slowly, but sternly nodded, "I do not side with the Galactic Alliance."

Quickly, he looked over to the Queen, and gave her a quick, deep nod, before looking back to the Senator. "You were never wrong, though. I am a mercenary, I am friends with criminals," his hands made a passive spooky gesture, "I am that which haunts your fears and brings you stress. I am a killer, I am a bad man, but in the end, don't we all eventually destroy someone elses life? Now, if you'll excuse me, I must find someone to hire me to kill people so I can make a profit." There was some sense of sarcasm in his voice, even as it was layered in the pristine vernacular as when he met the Senator, yet he was obviously displeased with the conversation. As his hands went down to his sides, they tensed up. He turned swiftly to head for the underground hangars below, perhaps to create more cogs in the machine.