Came to event in: 90 Suit (
http://starwarsrp.net/topic/146048-90-suit/)
Armed with: Nothing. She IS the weapon.
Objective: Mingle
The evening was young and celebration was in the air.
Syd was feeling unusually festive, in her own, greatly reduced way. She had been between assignments and it was a while since she had a chance to socialize. She had warmed to the idea (Pun: 70 XP) ever since first doing it at that prior gathering, and she had had many more chances to interact with Jedi since then. She was a little excited to be honest. What should she wear? None of her civilian clothing was fireproof. Ironically her actual equipment (Armored
catsuits!) ended up looking more like a costume than anything store bought. Some civilians had even asked her who she was supposed to be cosplaying as. Syd's answer was, of course, "Gritty Licensed Superhero."
The Flame Geist, born from the torn apart remains of a murdered Sith Lord, decided to simply wear the sort of thing she normally would wear, and in the comfort of her Star Courier's private quarters (She still felt anxiety in enclosed spaces but it was less intense on her own ship.) she examined her armors, behind their glassteel cases. There was very little difference in design scheme...each suit looked like it was made of chrome, in different colors. Gold was always prominent. The first three were all Syd's personal handiwork. The fourth, a white and gold suit, was not made by her. Technically.
That had been the Armor of the Sith her "creators" had murdered. Darth Phyre.
Syd had never understood what had prompted her to design her red and gold suit in such a manner. It was not until coming across Phyre's armor in her unfinished tomb (Where she had been murdered.) that she understood why. Even then, some of that wretched Sithspawn's memories must have been filtering in. Syd wondered what her original handler, The Man in White, would have done if she had remembered it all immediately. Would he have imprisoned her far earlier? Or would he have simply killed her as he had Phyre and started over, this time from a source not quite so corrupt?
Had he
ever held any real respect for her? Or was it all lip service? Syd to this day was not certain. Perhaps he had merely feigned respect for her, but in secret simply viewing her as nothing but the Sith he had murdered to get what he wanted. He had certainly never hinted at any distaste towards her, but that could mean he was either ambivalent or highly disciplined. Either way, it was clear he had known Phyre in some capacity. Syd remembered their final exchange before that enchanted hourglass had ripped Phyre apart (Painfully. Extremely painfully. No one could say Phyre had not earned a painful execution.) Had Phyre been a Jedi? Even this was unknown about her.
Syd, after a moment, decided to wear her blue and gold suit, slipping on the outfit and floating off her ship with a gift in hand. She had bought these, having no skill at cooking (Well, not exactly, but she just wasn't used to cooking
food), flying to the new house built by [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] to see (and this time, genuinely appreciate) this 'party' he had set up. Syd never went to parties. It was to be a completely foreign experience to her. That time she had been in that last costume contest did not count. Even in the evening whatever faint light remained glinted on the skin tight armor as she let the air hit her, speeding up to reach his house.
She had interacted with Yuroic rarely. They had done at least one assignment together, way back, but Syd had a good impression of him. Part of her was still getting used to the idea that Jedi were allowed to have children. She had thought it long overdue. The ancient Jedi had once believed they could and should control such a personal aspect of someone. Darth Vader had been the result. All those rules, all those regulations. Those were what had killed the classic Jedi, more than any Sith had. Syd wondered how Anakin Skywalker might have faired in this era, where the policies were looser. Would he have still gone bad? Would he have gone even
worse? A riddle for the ages. Syd at the very least imagined the poor feth might have given it a little more thought before cutting Windu's hand off. Wishful thinking perhaps.
Syd finally landed in front of Xeraic's home, looking and smiling a little at the decoration. She had been partly thinking of the costume party first, but this was a chance to mingle on a more than superficial level. She had never ventured into the home of a family. Not as
Syd anyway...
She could not drink, nor eat, so she could not fully enjoy it. She might have in Phyre's armor, but she had not the nerve to wear it yet. And certainly not around the people Phyre would have utterly
relished murdering. The risk was too great, despite the armor having been purified. Better to go in barely able to feel than to feel
too much.
Syd floated to the front door which was open.
"Master Xeraic? I brought brownies..." Syd explained calmly, showing him the large package of sweets. "You look well. You have a nice house."
A dry opening yes, but Syd had not fully nailed natural human speak. Some of the way she addressed others still needed work...