Opus, Opi, Opera, Operibum (Togashi Yokuni)

[Ahani Najwa-Zambrano]

@[member="Togashi Yokuni"]

The evening sun yawned its flagrant pinks, yellows and orange tones into the dimming sky. Brush strokes of passing light pushed passing fancies into the twilight like blush on a young lover. Ahani couldn't remember being that young. She felt as if her life had begun - writhing and gasping in the cell below Kashyyk some eight hundred years before. Oh, no, she hadn't lived that long, but she'd been alive. Locked away, as yet again the Force held her back and said 'not yet! Not yet, little girl. Not yet'. A spunky woman of fifty, Ahani dressed her age and smiled like a twenty year old, bright and youthful only the origins of fine lines settling at her eyes, by the curve of her mouth. Clad in a pale lilac evening gown and clutching an elongated silver clutch, she tugged at the newly bought silver jewellery that hung around her neck and in thick cuffs on her wrists.

Tonight she would see the wonders of eight hundred years, and experience the expansion of culture. The opera should do it, she'd had a fondness for music those centuries ago when Raien introduced her to it. Erryn gave her more, her daughter in law had been instrumental in forming Ahani's ear for taste. As she walked into the Opera House's traditional architecture, she took a flute of champagne from a serving droid's tray and stood in the upper salon awaiting the show and watching the peoples' every movement with the keen eye of the Echani digging in to discern the truth of men and women's souls.

 

[Garith Darkhold]

Shattered but feverish….

How many times throughout the long years he had been left broken?​

​

Darkness loomed in very breath. He smiled, he mingled, but none of these people would understand. If only there was a way to avoid the socialites between him and his opera box. Such prays were not answered as Yokuni was forced to shake hands or kiss ladies upon the check.

He was not here for social or intellectual contact. The music was an escape. Sitting in his luxury box he could let down his guard and feel. Not worry about who was watching his reaction. Never worrying who next was going to shove dagger deep into his back. Well he did not let his guard down that completely when he was in his box. He was far too paranoid for that.

Ascending up the stairs to the upper levels crossed three separate waiters. Each time he took a flute of champagne and downed it. He detested it, far too frilly for him and quietly sulking for his whisky. He just wanted to get to his booth and unaware who he might just meet.

@[member="Ahani Najwa-Keth"]

 

[Ahani Najwa-Zambrano]

One, two, three. The third flute went down the man's gullet and Ahani's attention flickered to him every few seconds. The multitudes in the Opera House were folk Ahani knew. There were the lovers scratching together credits and favours to get tickets, the music snobs waiting for their usual seat, scowling upward at the other more fortunate blokes who either drearily walked to their seats or were having the time of their lives yet again, month in and out like a routine. Those people Ahani knew, it was the dark suited man, @[member="Togashi Yokuni"] of whom she didn't.

Drinking down her champagne flute, Ahani went to the bar and smiled at the tender. He was far from fresh faced, the elder Bartender who knew every drink in history and a few that 'didn't exist', whose tips paid for his kids to go to college and who had a different vest for every day he worked a week. She whispered at him, and left with two bowl-tapered glasses, filled with an amber liquid of some design. Not quite whiskey, the brandy sloshed against the bowl's sides leaving tendrils of sugar sweetness and a hard edge. Why was she there but to learn and understand?

And feel the music in her soul. She walked up with a weary confidence, the flower in the vase which would not wither out of spite to those who said a woman over thirty could not be useful or pretty. Holding the glass out, the Echani peered into him with silver eyes asking whether the gesture was welcome or despised. Her head tilted to the side, she sniffed the brandy and sipped some from her glass.

A whiff of his shoulders in their bearing gave her an odd sensation, one that she recognized but could not pin point. What sort of man was he?

 

[Garith Darkhold]

O gawd, he thought but wore a warm smile as a woman walked up to him. His path blocked not to just his booth but to the bar as well. That was his first initial reaction until he seen the drink being handed to him. “Thank you”, the Elder Togashi took the drink. “Your name Miss”, he asked politely while extending his free hand in courtesy. Now that he had taken a closer look at the woman he noticed something that caught his attention. Yokuni had spent hundreds of years practicing martial melee skills. It was not hard for him to notice someone that was not hiding their passion. Such dedication to discipline translated in every movement. Honed reflexes…

@[member="Ahani Najwa-Keth"]

 

[Ahani Najwa-Zambrano]

Ahani's eyes flickered to the hand, not entirely sure what @[member="Togashi Yokuni"] meant her to do with it. She searched him, her back straight and feet firm on the ground unlike the delicate petals wafting with their fans and their escorts or the contented older women whose marriages of rank held them aloft of a field of yesterday's pride. "Is there something on your hand?" Ahani's voice nearly chirruped in a stutter, "Have I missed a cultural cue? Forgive me." She bowed her silver head and shifted where she stood to better see the crowd, yet keep the man in a companionate sight line.

Had one taken a vornskyr off its home world and placed it upon the forests of Naboo, one might have seen such muscle action as Ahani showed. Wary, yet learning a comfort in the peace of the place, she still glanced at shadows and into the eyes of the man she'd given brandy. Name. Which one? She'd had so many.
Ahani Najwa, Ahani Najwa-Keth, Darth Gyaumchem, The Surtrkone, Starmother. Legions of names for feats and legends committed in the name of progress, survival, the droning thrill of passion and emotion wrote these names on her face and arms and ribcage.

"Ahani. Looked like you needed it. Escaping a bad date?"

 

[Garith Darkhold]

Yokuni could not believe he had just offered to shake hands. With a woman here that was socially ungraceful here on Atrisita. He supposed it had to do with subconsciously behavior of some sort. He had lived around Mando’ad for years while separated from his own people. Luckily based on her actions she was not offended.

“Escaping a date, no defiantly…no”, he shook his head and chuckled mildly. “I did need a drink, thank you Ahani. My name is Yokuni “, he felt a bit awkward. What was he supposed to say he was trying to escape people that came here for the social interaction and he was just here to enjoy the music? The standard it is a pleasure to met you seemed a bit out of place Ahani and Yokuni searched deep to think of a further response. “So how long have you been on Atrisia”, yes small talk? It seemed like the thing to do.
@[member="Ahani Najwa-Keth"]

 

[Ahani Najwa-Zambrano]

Was there a social cue for her to glean, something to use later on when she was hidden in the Imperial Military waiting more missions for the Inquisition? She played with the fabric of her dress for a second, feeling nerves build up like bile then pushing them away. No, she was here to learn and to enjoy. To absorb a culture which would re-introduce her to the universe at large. "Neither am I."

Facial muscles tugged up at the corners of her lips, "Escaping, I mean. Oh, any man who chugs champagne that quickly needs something stronger than the flutes they're serving those little girls. The frolicking ones." She nodded at the young things with their petal-coloured kimono and dresses, batting their eyes at men with no rings hoping for some hand or courtesy. Ahani laughed softly and shook her head.

"Galaxy never changes, does it, Yokuni?" She swished the brandy and sipped it, feeling its bouquet hit her senses and consuming the lining of her stomach with its temporary warmth. "Fifteen standard days. Are you from here? Atrisia, I mean. Not many Echani so I know I stick out. Figured Opera would be recognizable enough to get my cultural bearings." she whispered, eyes narrowing as she looked out to the crowd. @[member="Togashi Yokuni"]

 

[Garith Darkhold]

Yokuni found this conversation to be much more honest. It was refreshing from the current politics he had found him surround by. Yokuni nodded in understanding as she explained she was not escaping. He thought he gathered she was not here with anyone.

Yokuni allowed his eyes follow to where @[member="Ahani Najwa-Keth"] was directing his attention. His eyes winded in horror. There were very few things that terrified Yokuni the opposite sex and love was one of them. Young noble women cavorting around looking for a suitable Yovshin to marry was almost enough to make him running and screaming.

“Indeed Ahani”, he scanned the crowed himself making sure he was not about to be targeted by some young lady. “I’m feeling quite exposed out here. I very much would like to continue this conversation. You’re welcome to accompany me to my booth.”

 

[Ahani Najwa-Zambrano]

Her eyebrow quirked and raised, from the initial predilection to give a man a drink this man had become more than a beginning curio. She glanced over as he seemed to balk in shock! Could it be the man was uncomfortable with something? Having no idea what it was, Ahani shook her head at the frolicking girls and sighed. "What do they teach their females on this planet?" She whispered under her breath.

Felt like telling the lot to shoo. "Booths do have less angles of attack. Easier to defend against fops and ladies. Now that would be delightful. Do you know much about the Soprano tonight? I admit ignorance on the musical quality of the performance. It's my first one." @[member="Togashi Yokuni"]

 

[Garith Darkhold]

@[member="Ahani Najwa-Keth"]

Yokuni was too anxious to have noticed Ahani’s physical cues. As soon as she had agreed to go to the booth he began to direct in that direction. “You may be surprised what they are thought and maybe not. Women live by a very strict behavior here. To an Echani or a Mando’ad the noble woman would appear delicate and superficial to dependant on men. It is just a modern theme that noble woman could have a job. Still traditionalists highly frown on such behavior. The whole traditional role in society is to be arranged and married of to a noble. The elder of their clan arranges it. If the nobles in question have vastly important roles in the Empire it is the Emperor that arranges it.”

Yokuni pointed to a door way to a booth, on either side of the doors stood a Stormtrooper. “Being an Elder of a Clan I would have to marry who ever the Emperor commanded me to marry. Such a thought of marrying or love is a scary subject for me.”

 

[Ahani Najwa-Zambrano]

The Echani Noble blinked and looked at the girls again. "How does your culture manage anything when half the population's built around nothing else but getting married and laid? When I was young, my education included tactics, strategy, hand to hand and weapons. Oh, and music and dancing, but they were cultural. Only been in recent years a Noble woman could what? Dear gosh, no wonder they're terrifying. Poor things. Cut flowers in vases. All they are." Ahani dipped off to the booth and took a gander at the view of the Opera house's interior. @[member="Togashi Yokuni"] had quite the pristine view. Much better than the seat Ahani had waiting for her somewhere down there in the middle.

Never deciding who one married, but having it chosen? Ahani glanced at the Elder Noble with an expression of sympathy. Love, affection those were biproducts of an after-time, it was a foreign sentiment that genuine appreciation could come first. How different then, from her own marriages, built on a natural chemistry found in battle and spar. "I can see that, then. Marriage is a contract for you lot. Done in any way that was unnatural or chemistry-related the whole thing's a bore. Trust me, best be glad the Emperor hasn't chosen you a companion yet than get the wrong one."

 

[Garith Darkhold]

Yokuni was far more comfortable now and it apeared so upon his features. Finding his seat there was one to his left and his right and three behind him. The veiw was magnificent. “How the Atrisia culture manages is relativily new to me”, it was partaily true as he was seperated from Artisia for hundrads of years. “The House of Togashii has only recently reterned to Artisia. For hundrads of years the House of Togashi live on Shogun and among the Mand’ad. Painted flowered women waiting to be married is as new to me as it is to you.”

@[member="Ahani Najwa-Keth"]

 

[Ahani Najwa-Zambrano]

The change from the crowd was incredible, Ahani herself watched them meander to their seats, those fortunate enough to be in boxes twittered over with servants fetching wine, cloaks, the odd fur. Leaning against the rail, the back scoop of her dress revealed scraping lines of thin pink scaring, burn marks well on their way to healing over, yet noticeable enough. Lightsabers, melee weapons, claw marks or some wayward tattooing yet to be filled in? She inhaled deeply, letting the air out slowly, as if tasting fresh wine.

"Look at them. Easier to, up here where we have the benefit of distance. Isn't that what a box is about? The benefit of a higher standing? A better view? Ah, so you and I are in similar boats. Is that the phrase? In similar boats? Or is it identical boats?" She shrugged and turned to lean her back against the railing.

"Haven't heard of Shogun or the Mand'ad. Sounds like quite the place. You could fill a library with the places I've lost touch with, over the years." She laughed and let her eyes search up the gilt golden facade swooping up to the light fixtures flickering with pretend fire. "Guess I should find my seat with the plebeians." @[member="Togashi Yokuni"]

 

[Garith Darkhold]

Yokuni chuckled hearing the remark of similar boots. Between the laughter and being in the safety of his own booth Yokuni let down his guard like he would normally. A heavy weight was lifted off his shoulders as he let down the veil that masked the true mark of his Force Signature. Here he did not have much to be concerned about. Certainly anyone here that would be able to sense his presence through the Force would be a member of the Inquisition. There was a chance there was not though. There was always that chance. “You’re welcome to stay if my drinking will not bother you”, Yokuni reached over to his left picking a bottle of whisky up off the end table and began to pour himself another drink.

@[member="Ahani Najwa-Keth"]

 

[Ahani Najwa-Zambrano]

A bit more swagger took Ahani's steps as she walked back into the booth with a bottle of brandy, nodding off the attendant. "Thank you, Yokuni." She had to laugh softly, but the laugh faltered in her throat as Yokuni let his walls down and once again Ahani was thrust into the presence of a Master. Leave it to her, eh? Finding the one man in the building strong enough to destroy said building. No wonder the foppish girls gave him quivers.

"Drinking bother me? Please." She cast her head toward her shoulder as if to say 'never going to happen'. "Drink away." She sipped her glass and licked her lips. The brandy tasted like nothing she'd had before, as if eight hundred years had shifted all the brandy and spirits in the galaxy to some new aroma and bouquet.

Slowly, ever slowly Ahani let her barriers down. The tangible pieces of her - the force in her - was old, ancient and longstanding. The existence behind her silver eyes showed its integrity with flickers of the dark fires of madness. As ever her aura in the Force was a bursting, roiling nebula of star fire, potent and vastly untamed but for the shards of a deeply rooted maternal instinct and battle master's discipline. The inquisition had indeed come together, yet Ahani was too new in the Inquisition to recognize @[member="Togashi Yokuni"] as one of a mutual fraternity. She turned toward him, watched the liquor pour into his glass and smirked, coming to sit beside him. "Do you know what this opera is about?"

 

[Garith Darkhold]

“You’re welcome”, was the only verbal reply he gave to Ahani saying thank you. His physical response was to take another drink of his whisky. He did notice her laughter faltering near the time he dropped his barriers. At the time he thought nothing of yet as his mind was on relaxing.

Thought of whether his drinking bothers her or not was an afterthought when he felt her presence through the Force. Was she, yes she was unmistakably a Force User. Was she a member of the Inquisition though? There was one way to find out. “Darkhold”, he said a dramatically paused. The word alone important and a code name within the Inquisition. beginning to speak as if the first words was part of this rhyme, “To hold the light cloaked in steal of darkness.”

Yokuni laughed as if he found something funny, “The Opera is about a soldier. He was always fascinated about the game of Sabac. He never actually got the never to gamble. Frugal and methodical he could see similarities between the strategy of the game and military tactics.”

“That is where the story begins. The hero of the story finds himself trusted into the world of high society and politics. During the course of this he meets a young noble lady. A lady who secretly plays Sabac professionally and her secrete persona is called the Queen of Spades. He metaphorically finds himself gambling in this social arena of politics. Between love and the dangers of the social arena the hero must find a way to keep the course and keep his love.”

@[member="Ahani Najwa"]

 

[Ahani Najwa-Zambrano]

Her eyebrow quivered. She sipped her brandy and puzzled at the ever present bonding lines the Force tended to provide. Usually it wasn't her the Force was speaking to, but the last breaths of her crystalline meditations had gifted the woman with more than she could have expected. "Gyaumchem." Her own Inquisitional codeword, also a name from history. A Darth Gyaumchem had terrorized the planets around Thyrsus and like planets twenty, maybe thirty years after the death of Palpatine. "Mother of the Blessed, bathed in cosmic conflagration. She sees darkness now from the tint of light. My favourite tale as a child."
Settling her shoulders into the back of the comfortable seat, she sighed in her moment of cover. "Young love and men trying to prove themselves to themselves and others. Intrigue! Danger! Nobility and gambling, ah yes, I chose the right Opera."

The whicking tempest of her mind coiled around herself a chill relaxation, the storm-clouds in her settling into silver and blue nebulae as she sensed and found no danger here but familiarity and intent. She touched out to @[member="Togashi Yokuni"]'s mind.

'It has been some time since a vaster presence than my own has come upon me, from my sleep. Please do not see me as a simpleton or threat.'