The Ball of Bastion [Invite Only][Primeval & Guests]

[Armand Temi]

Perla gave the man in front of her a predatory smile back and accepted his touch with ease, her pale hand wrapping around the crook of his elbow. Even in his formal attire, he cut an imposing figure, from the curve of his shoulders to his firm jawline. Very admirable indeed, thought the Dathomir witch.

“This way,” she said, leading him deeper into the stone and durasteel Palace, avoiding the servant’s quarters this time and out onto the back terrace of the immense Primeval headquarters. He would see the long and high electroshock fence right away as the Imperial Dungeons were situated directly in the back of the Palace.

“My name is Perla Pirjo,” she finally answered. "The Host Lord wants to make sure, that aside from the normal amenities in the Palace, other areas of interest are also allowed to be viewed by the curious. Obviously only guests are to be wandering around in there as the design of the Dungeons are not meant to be known by the galaxy at large.”

It was a bit of a stiff and rehearsed speech but the Dathmoir witch wasn’t a museum tour guide after all. Her next words came more easily as she purred: "I would like to take you through the entire facility, even the underground, but if there’s something specifically you want to see, just let me know.”

She beckoned him down a flight of stone stairs and two guards which stood at the prison entrance admitted them quickly through the gates of the electroshock fence. “The shock capability of the fence is 200 milliamps which can cause severe burning and unconsciousness. Sometimes death if medical treatment isn’t given right away,” she said nonchalantly as though describing a mundane recipe.

“What is your name, friend?" Perla asked as they walked from the grassy enclosure between the fence and the imposing detention facility to the actual entrance of the Dungeons.

The Sith Lord wouldn’t hear anything yet. In fact, it was dim in the prison yard and eerily quiet.

[member="Jacen Cavill"]

 

[Kerrick Sereta]

​

Despite calling the Coruscant undercity home, or as close to home as xe would ever get, Kerrick could count the number of events of this caliber xe had attended on one hand. Which was to say, one in total, nothing more, nothing less. And so far, there wasn't much to say about it either way. Everything seemed average, so far. Well, average except for the idea of entertainment that would transpire later in the night. But, given that similar, less ceremonial things often transpired in xir line of work, it didn't raise much concern. This was, arguably, nothing entirely unusual. Well, except for the sheer amount of people in attendance and the fact that many of them were high-ranking galactic citizens, but it was this fact xe was trying to disregard for the time being. There was already enough to keep an eye on without that thrown into the mix.

Namely, [member="Cryax Bane"]. The man had attended the ball clean-faced enough, dressed in a suit and looking the part that suited his station. Of course, that hadn't lasted very long. It hadn't even been an hour yet, by xir mark, and already he was drunk and as high as a kite, or as close to it as one could get without going over the edge. It was something to watch, at least, beyond those individuals already present that already gave cause to be wary. Maybe xe shouldn't have been so high strung. This was a party after all, a place to relax, to essentially be the opposite of how xe was inwardly at this moment. With someone like this particular Chiss around, it was considerably more difficult to do so. One never knew what the man would say or when he would say it, and it was always best to be careful. Especially when his tongue was loosened by all manner of substances.

With his inebriated state xe had chosen against drinking. Cryax was currently doing enough for the both of them, and someone needed to remain rational. It hadn't been xir job, babysitting him, but that was what it seemed to be turning into. Again, something that xe shouldn't have been worrying about. Maybe a drink didn't sound like such a bad idea after all. But later, when hopefully the blue-skinned man xe currently stood next to had dozed off enough to no longer pose much of an issue. Chances of such were likely, given what past experience had shown. He couldn't hold his liquor decently in the least, so it was only a matter of time before he said something they would both regret. At least it was obvious enough he was delirious, so the event wouldn't be entirely unexpected.

"You should be careful, at least." It was doubtful he would listen to common sense at this point, but it was worth an attempt, at least. The slightest of frowns passed across xir lips before xir expression returned to a sense of neutrality. Running a hand through xir dark hair, xe couldn't help but smile slightly at the very real absurdity of it all. This was going to be some night.

 

[Tmoxin Temi]

Tmoxin laughed softly when the Captain mentioned certain gentlemen whom she had only heard stories about. But she knew ultimately Hans was being coy as he joked about the “warmongering Sith wenches." She wasn’t blind after all. Tmoxin had caught his eye roaming more than once to land on the shapely figures of fellow lady guests and with their elaborate dresses where cleavage wasn't just an accessory, it was practically served up on a silver tray. The Commander herself had appraised the female guests probably just as much, although she wouldn't reveal something like that on a first date. Besides they were not adolescent, love sick teenagers after all, and while the Hapan Commander hadn’t actually had many relationships, she was also not naïve. As a naked dancer passed by the garden like a sylvan nymph in the moonlight, Tmoxin thought, by the Eternal Core this entire soiree is designed to make the eye wander.

When Captain Vaiden wrapped his strong arm around her and offered for them to enjoy themselves a moment longer, Tmoxin turned to face him, tucking a stray red lock of hair behind her ear and she said: “Well, who knows maybe they’re executing me tonight and if so I’d like a kiss from a handsome officer before I die.” But she smiled to lighten the dark humor and then reached a delicate hand up to the back of the Captain’s warm neck and pulled him in for a kiss. He would notice that her lips tasted like strawberries with only the subtlest hint of champagne.

[member="Hans Vaiden"]

 

[Aster Jen'allé]

[member="Boo Chiyo"]

*Destiny was truly entranced with the conversation of the other. She had followed the Primeval into battle numerous times. She had even met their prophet on occasion. Did she believe in the gods of the Primeval? She had to trust that she did. Though it defied all logic, she wanted to believe in a home for even one so... Mechanical... as she was. There may not have been a home for the droids before, but she was placed into this cold existence to find a home for them... For everyone...*

Destiny: *Trailing off* "Truth..."

 

[Sitara Qin]

[member="Marek Starchaser"] was older than her and he definitely knew what he was talking about. She lacked the experience that he brought to the table but he could probably sense that despite being pretty, she had a lot of depth to her that could be useful to him in many different ways. “Mhm.” She agreed, and for this reason, her reply to his next offer would make sense. He was right. People were definitely incredibly helpful assets. One’s role could predict your place in society. She took a taste of her drink, the mild liquid trickling down her throat.

Small talk was a skill one must master to climb up the ladder of socialization. It was vomit, most of it involved talking about current events and smiling. The latter was something Sitara was better at. She was charming and she could look pretty. She could nod her head, smile sweetly at whoever she was interacting with, and basically just look pretty. The patriarchal society didn’t expect much for most women anyways. Sometimes a pretty face was all one needed in the world. She scanned the room. She didn't do as well in groups but she couldn't look nervous. It was a good thing resting queen faces came in handy.

“Only if your friends are as cool as you." She smiled, pushing his shoulder playfully.

 

[Ellie Mors]

A quiet giggle elicited from the lips of a red haired woman, perhaps in her mid-thirties, who now lay on her back with the back of her right hand planted firmly against the base of her lower lip, just resting at the top of her chin. Her hair, a mess, and the fact that her husband was shamelessly opening the door to the enclosed private transport they'd taken only offered her a mild chill up the base of her spine in excitement. She swallowed, hard, and let out another fit of girlish laughter - wiping at the side of her mouth and subsequently the cheek beside it - as she sat up. "You are going to buy me a new scarf, [member="Alric Kuhn"]." The woman rasped, pulling the handkerchief from the man's front coat pocket to clean her fingers and dry her face. His notion of their privacy was hardly disappointing, and gave her an ample opportunity to tie her hair up in the ridiculous bun she had it in before it had been tousled and man-handled, along with the back of her head, just minutes ago. "I am quite aware we're late to the party, dear, it isn't like we have a reputation for being early." She remarked, small hands smoothing the length of her dress over as she leaned forwards to put on her heels. Today she had settled on a vibrant, red, glistaweb dress - one to show power, authority. At least that was what her assistant, Leena, had told her. The prosthetic eyes her husband had made for her, dark green with a now-red hue around the edge of the irises, allowed her to see in more than the standard assortment of colors most others were capable of perceiving, the entire ultraviolet spectrum at that, and so the dress she wore was quite different than the red she had came to know through her days prior to her blindness - it was far darker than she had expected, almost like the red of her hair but with a slight glimmer of silk to it.

After a short minute or so of freshening up - applying the same perfume that Alric had seemed to love, something infused with an extremely diluted amount of Zeltron pheromones from what she'd understood - she took her husband's hand and scooted towards the door of the car, and him, while her eyes rapidly moved from the floor of the vehicle to the roof and then back to resting on the Tetan's thoroughly kempt features. "Thank you for taking me out tonight, Alric, I know how much public things bother you." Silara said softly, following him out. The architecture, of course, immediately reminded her of the memories of one ancient Sith Lord, whom she'd spent a good deal of time speaking with, she had been honored with following a duel with two Jedi masters in an ancient crypt. For a moment, as she intertwined her right arm with Alric's left, she wondered if Darth Andeddu had once visited the world, though she doubted it - he had been a recluse and a coward, hardly one willing to share his knowledge with those who did not tread the line of what he deemed to be worthy. The subject was quickly expunged from her mind as she strolled with her husband, eyes twinkling now with a purple hue, towards the celebratory function hosted by the Primeval. Unlike her husband, she had no formal contacts within the vast cultist group - nor did she respect their beliefs, which she held as contradictory to her own self-promoting ideals - and also did not come for the sake of making a business impression. Not that Alric had, either, he was most certainly here because she'd made him come with her - she wouldn't show up alone, that would be almost insulting both to her and to their host.

 

[Corey's OOC]

There was always the issue of knowing where to judge people. Marek, as a Force user, and a member of a collective of CEOs, had to tread lightly. There were people that surprised everyone. And that was kind of true all over the place. Marek remembered some of the nights he tended bars, y’know those ‘celebrity’ nights where he would try to drag the likes of [member="Jared Ovmar"], back in the day, to sling drinks for young-and-upwardly-mobile types in Rio Vivo, and that one guy you feed the drinks to and he falls over, or the younger woman (it was science, not sexist) who just kept fething drinking. He was still working on sizing up [member="Sitara Qin"]. The Force and all.

Most times small talk was really useless. But Marek knew it had a time and place. Meeting people, flirting a bit, trying to find out their tells, and learning what you can. It was why he had allowed SpyNet on a variety of his cruises. Information was a valuable asset. And he really needed to work on that. Maybe talking to the Primeval and the Sith, he could get access to some learning that could help his own agents to do their job just a bit better… right, he needed to stop thinking about work.

For whatever, RBF was one of those things that just… blew Marek away? Was one of those things that no one could explain. But it helped, the women who looked apathetic and like they’d rather be anywhere else? Yeah, that was the perfect accessory. “Some of them are.” He looked around, trying to see just how busy they were. “But… they’re the serious types.” All brimstone and lightning and droid armies.

 

[Artemis Vahl'Nyx]

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AAzFUZ7Ncd8[/media]​

To say that Nyx wasn't made for parties, balls, or soirees (or perhaps social gatherings of any kind) would be a severe understatement. Of course it would. At the mention, and sometimes even just the thought of her attending such an event could send shivers down her otherwise sturdy spine. Who could imagine seeing her anywhere but the darkest corner of a bar inhabited by lowlifes and criminals? Now, if these parties had certain kinds of fruit juice... well, she tolerated those. One should, however, never question the amount of juice she decides to ingest. Otherwise they too will be given a reason to despise parties. Multiple reasons, really, if they survive the encounter. When the woman wishes, she can summon a seemingly unfathomable amount of rage. How then did she end up spending the last six months of her life living 'quietly' amongst the Jedi? Or, more relevant to our previous topic of conversation... though she doesn't like the average celebration, does she enjoy celebrations?

After all, there are parties, and then there are parties.

Events that called themselves joyous occasions in order to make attendees feel safe. Comfortable. At ease. Until the truth was revealed, at least. Oh, the poor, unsuspecting guests. They never expect what comes for them. If they ever had an idea... Well, most people were quite perturbed by the suggestion of watching prisoners be executed publicly, even if food and drink is served on the side. One might feel the need to note that Nyx isn't exactly part of the 'most people' category- there are even some who don't believe she even has a soul. Such a notion was clearly ridiculous! Soulless beings were incapable of becoming spirits. And if she was not one of those now... then what was she? Ah, now you understand, yes? It's so incredibly simple. The way that she practically floated through the doorway, the blue tint to her once tan skin, and the way no guard could remember checking her invite gave it away. Drapeam Nyx was undeniably a force ghost. Now, what do restless apparitions do best? Haunt people.

Hence her strange desire to come to Bastion, for a Ball, with a bunch of powerful people she did not know. Only one of the guests actually interested her in any way: [member="Vrag"]. Yes, the same Sith Lord who had caused her demise. The same one she had been following ever since. How long had it been?... She didn't really know. Or care. Ghosts are notoriously bad at keeping track of time. Maybe it had been weeks. Potentially months. A year?... Perhaps. In the scale of things it really didn't matter one bit. What mattered was that the woman was here now, finally ready to show herself as more than a shadow following the Firrerreo. Oh, yes, she had been there for some time before this, always being just in sight. Right in the corners of the blue-eyed demon's vision. Sometimes she had gotten daring. Let herself be seen in a crowd or walking among the Sith Acolytes. Had she been noticed? That she did not know. But surely one could not ignore a mysterious figure forever. Not when it seemed to follow them.

Nyx would not go unnoticed.

With a carefully constructed grin she 'adjusted' her suit and took a few steps forward, no longer in the darkest corner she could find. Quietly she scanned the room once more. All of the important details had already been memorized (exits, points of interest, guard positions, etc) but she had yet to glance over those gathered. A shame, so many of these villains are quite the lookers, she thought. Interesting, was it not? The woman found her white gaze lingering on several people... none of which she had ever met before. What a shame indeed. After a moment she tore her gaze from a lovely lass in a black dress (who seemed to be drinking with an older male at the time) and fixated it upon her target. Though she hated to admit it she couldn't help but smile after she saw her killer. People as horrid as her should simply not be allowed to be pretty. No, they should be as ugly on the outside as they surely were on the outside, even if they could easily get their appearances fixed.

The fact that this Sith could be described as far more than simply 'pleasing to the eye' was both infuriating and surprisingly humorous. One would think that murder would eliminate attraction, correct? Hmm... not in this case, it seems. Strangely enough violence sometimes only increases such things. How terribly odd. Humans- and apparently all over sentient species- were immensely peculiar. Attempting to understand how exactly any of them functioned in the mental department seems futile. None are the same, none ever stay the same. Certain ones seem to undergo metamorphose far more often then others. We are now brought back to Nyx: A once Imperial, once Protector, once Republican Zorren who died as alone as someone in full company could be. Asleep. Oh, look at her now though, see what she has blossomed into! What new doors have opened for her after death? Demise does not always mean the end. Deceased she may be, in chaos she is not.

"Remember," she started to say, gaze burning a hole in the back of her slayer's skull, "what is dead cannot die, for with the spirits they do lie. From crimson dawn to filtered dusk, once body naught but a husk, ghosts may wander, ghosts may fly, but do not ever assume a soul can die." Mischief filled her eyes for a single moment. Time almost seemed to stop as she simply willed herself to a new spot in the room. Everyone knew that those of her kind could move through walls but not all knew that they didn't have to travel the same way the living do. No, as she had discovered early on, all they need to do is think for a split second. Then they are where they wanted to be- as long as they knew the location. Nyx had spent over an hour examining the area before her target had shown themselves. Ending up on the other side of the room was child's play. Something simple. Easy. Just like her last fight had been for her opponent. And just like recognizing her would be.

Looking almost the same as she had on her dying day, Drapeam Nyx materialized once more within Vrag's line of sight, flashed the woman a scowl, then let her expression dissolve into a playful smirk. Her lips curled up at the ends as she mouthed the words she had been wanting to scream for ages: "Did you miss me, babe?" This was going to be a very, very fun evening. It might just end up being the most tolerable party that either woman had attended.

[member="Vrag"] | [member="Hal Terrano"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Jared Ovmar"]​

 

[Quietus]

Lorelei watched [member="Jacen Cavill"] go with a lofted brow, the suited man disappearing into the throngs of other guests, taking with him some semblance of posterity. As if the moment had been for nothing but his own juvenile pleasure - solidifying the passing notion of her new entanglement with the Darkside's children.

Children.

Golden ornamentation chimed with the slight canting of the woman's head into [member="Gerion Ardik"]'s ear, "BlasTech?" a low query with unspoken undertones, "Hm, more's the pity."

Cavill was treading water, apparently.


Curiously enough, the man with the cane had somehow wriggled out of the man's grasp and for some reason or another he stank of familiarity. Lorelei looked to him for a moment, "Know him do you?" she asked of [member="Disciple"].

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Laguz Vald"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"]​

‘This… is the illustrious Danger Arceneau.’ the Sith Lord would introduce, and yet… and yet he would know two seconds into the conversation that this wasn’t the illustrious Danger Arceneau. How would he know, was the common question asked, and the answer was quite simple and entirely unsurprising. It was actually a thing that made him stand-out from the rest of the crowd, except Xiangu of course.

He was a mentalist.

In this universe there were people who could rip the bridges of Star Destroyers, there were women who could throw asteroids as if they were bowling balls. There are men who could move as a blur, appearing from one direction to the other and others that were so good with a lightsaber… well, that they were considered legendary.

Ovmar was none of those people.

Using a lightsaber would only mean the amputation of his own limbs, the most he could do with telekinesis was an average push or pull and asteroids were still an unknown quality in his bowling ball game.

No, it was the realm of the mind where the Sith Lord made his home and he had talked with Arceneau enough times- the last time with her being particularly drunk and less focused on keeping those barriers up.

She feels different.

Six years changes a person, but this is different.

Yet, he did not say a thing and did not even try to alert Xiangu in this matter. Simply because he was not yet sure if this imposter was using a highly advanced form of mentalism, or if it was something differently.

‘She is the-’ and it was then that his attention completely shifted, as he noticed something glide into existence. A frown on his face appeared as he turned around and looked straight at [member="Drapeam Nyx"]

A single moment he pondered, part of him; the part that enjoyed making trouble for people, wondered if it would be a good idea to bind the soul to him. Another shard of essence to add to the collection.

In the end? He decided against it, there was a mystery to solve here.

‘Ah, Miz. Arceneau.’ the Sith Lord tried again. ‘You look splendid today, very catching.’

Then to Matsu.

‘Miss. Arceneau is a very good friend of mine.’ stretching it. ‘It’s the Arceneau Trade Company that is her brainwork.’

 

[Alric Kuhn]

[member="Silara Kuhn"]

He moved with a certain spring in his step.

It was true, he would rather have stayed at home and relaxed with his wife instead of coming her. He would have been happy simply holding her on the couch while stroking her hair during a holoflick, something simple, something easy. Yet he couldn't deny that another part of him enjoyed things like this. He enjoyed behind with his wife, and he enjoyed the odd calamity that was parties like this. Perhaps that was the part of him that was still young.

He smiled at her as she spoke, reaching over and squeezing the arm that had hooked itself within his own. She didn't have to thank him. Silara knew that he would do anything for her, going to a part such as this was the least on that list. “I can't always have my way.”

Alric said in a jovial tone, the joy, the pleasure that she had evoked from him still strung a harmonious cord. He was relaxed, at ease, and his mood was as high as the sky.

“Though I do sometimes feel like I have it all.” The addition was said almost unconsciously, as if it was a reflex that he didn't have to think about.

His smile suddenly faded as they entered the party proper, his face turning into a look of confusion. The great fortresses halls were filled with all sorts of people from the higher ups of the One Sith to influential members of the galaxy whom he had met once or twice before. A few people he recognized, others he could even name, but that was not what confused him.

It seemed that there were nude women prancing about serving food and dancing about.

“Well...” Alric said lifting an eyebrow. “This is certainly interesting.”

He couldn't help but chuckle as he spoke.

 

[Disciple]

Disciple wasn't going anywhere approaching a dungeon with Jacen. No way, no how. He'd played that trick on people before, right before putting them in a coma and experimenting on them. Idiots. Let Cavill hit on the women, he was going to stay right here.... not in a coma. That didn't stop the man from adopting a faint hunch as both hands came to rest atop the cane, eyes glaring after the departing Sith.

"I know as much of him as I want to." He says, suddenly deadly serious.

"Smarmy twit needs some tighter pants, maybe cut off the circulation to the head he seems to be thinking with. Maybe then that disused lump of crumpled tissue he has between his ears might actually get some work going, rather than sit there gathering dust."

His uniform shimmered briefly as one corner of his lips twitched upward into a sneer.

Then he coughed, again.

"Pardon." He says. "I'm afraid I'm not up to my usual snuff in the jokes department."

There was a faint bow of his head as he tilted forward. "Disciple is the name. Tricks are the game. And above all, I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

[member="Gerion Ardik"] [member="Lorelei Darke"]

 

[Inger Strömfire]

Just like the wind of Midvinter something stirred inside this one. Being one of her children, winder born she would be. Coming to slip into her hand yet another of these fine glass. It was as if all knew each other if not they noted that the had hear of whispers. Her own eyes flickering here and there. Just as if nothing else would matter in such a place. A small curve coming to her lips. It wasn't like she knew what her own thoughts would get her into. Again it could always be fun to see what could happen it would just spice up the party.

That is one thing this part could use is some spicing up. As if you had seen one you seen them all, all the same wearing that fake around them. If one didn't think there was a lot of plotting gong around this room. Then truly then one wasn't born around the darkness that had each of them. True some had stronger ones then others. Such great raw power but even those could be taken out if the plan just right, oh such much of it was on the timing also.

Taking a step forward she would make herself known to some and see just what happen this time around but in the back of her mind was this swirling this keep her lips to a curve her eyes on wards.

"Oh such a crowd gather tonight of beauty and power" , some what in the direction of [member="Matsu Xiangu"] taking note of some of the others that had gather in that direction. As she took once more her lips to her drink pausing to reflex more.

[member="Jacen Cavill"] [member="Vrag"] [member="Hal Terrano"] [member="Jared Ovmar"]​

 

[Laguz Vald]

Danger Arceneau — there was just something absolutely delicious about wearing her — lifted her green eyes from the rim of her glass and to the striking features of the woman who had arrived along with the older Sith Lord. Was he a Sith Lord? She couldn't be sure, of course, but looking at the general pattern there was a pretty good chance that he was. Not that it mattered in the grand scheme of things; Sith or not, she could disappear into another skin as easily as she had done with this one. If things truly went sideways, even an inconspicuous piece of furniture wasn't beneath her, if it aided her escape. It wouldn't be the first time she avoided detection by pretending to be a table, after all.

A smile stretched the full lips of Danger Arceneau as she met the black, kohl-lined pools of [member="Matsu Xiangu"], taking the proffered metallic appendage as if it were nothing. In truth, the combination of pale flesh and the dull, uncompromising glint of metal was quite striking to say the least.

A hint of amusement flashed in her emerald eyes as the man beat her to the punch, the syllables of her adopted name spilling forth from his lips. "A delight to meet you, Miss Xiangu," the redhead added with a touch of mirth as her gaze lingered on the petite Sith Lady for a few moments, then shifted to her companion. She took in the salt and pepper beard he was sporting, making a note of the tailored suit as well. Quite delightful indeed. How hard would it be to pull that one o—

Her thoughts stumbled then, and her grip around the glass in her hand faltered for a second. The shi'ido was experienced in working under stress, however, so the realization was reflected upon her face for no more than a blink of an eye.

"As do you," she purred, offering him her free hand even as her mind worked furiously to discover just how deep the man had gone. Did he know? Even though her blood was rushing beneath the pretty exterior, Laguz didn't let it bleed through and ruin her smiling mask. Instead she sought out the eyes of the intruder with her own gaze, trying to discern what sort of game he was playing.

"How have you been?"

A bluff, of course, but she had no way of knowing when Danger Arceneau had last met the mystery man, and the question was vague enough to be brushed off as courtesy. Unless they had met yesterday, the query would fit right in, and that was all the shifter needed in that moment.

[member="Jared Ovmar"]​

 

[Arage Bao]

His smile grew just a touch wider and as she looked into his eyes to find the meaning, to find just how much he knew… the bastard winked. One moment it was there, the next the twinkling was gone and there it was again, a staunch and pleasant expression which was befitting for an elderly gentleman busy recultivating old connections within the broader network of the Galaxy.

‘Oh you know…’ the Sith Lord wagered with a little shrug, accepting her hand gracefully in his palm. No kiss or anything, just the lightest of presses to acknowledge it, before he released it once again.

This was exactly what he had missed, the intrigue, the sensation and the plotting. The schemes that came hand in hand with being active on the larger galactic scale, but he wasn’t interested in making a scene.

Ovmar leaned in, his lips brushed Xiangu’s ear and he whispered. It was just loud enough for ‘Arceneau’ to hear.

‘Dear, I think our lovely Cavill is just about to receive a special tour of the dungeons.’ he brushed past her ear and planted a soft kiss on her cheek. ‘Why don’t you go and see if his muscles are as interesting as his tuxedo makes them to be.’

Such a grin.

‘I have some business to discuss with Danger here.’

Xiangu and him shared a profound link, one which allowed her to clearly sense that Ovmar… was enjoying himself immensely and that Danger was not really Danger, but that it was okay for now.

[member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Laguz Vald"] | [member="Jacen Cavill"]​

 

[Jacen Cavill]

[member="Perla Pirjo"]

Warmth, that was what crossed his mind as he felt her hand go around his arm. How long has it been since someone has done this? Such an odd question for a supposed Sith Lord to ask, but it wasn't out of sadness. Weakness was something to be destroyed, and such feeble, infantile notions of affection had no place in his life. This was merely curiosity, he thought about the subject the way he would examine an opponent's weakness. While his recall was far from perfect, a fact he wouldn't readily admit, it had been years. Sure, there had been battle, that allowed proximity.

This was different, and he wasn't averse to change.

Perla Pirjo, aren't you a brave soul? They moved as one, the steady pull of her arm his guide from the bodies all around. Moments later they finally made their way from the room, his eyes analyzing every detail they could catch. They spared no expense, that much is certain. Internalizing his thoughts, he stayed silent as she led him outside to quite the fence. A light hum, masked by the music indoors met his ears, and he understood how much current was flowing miss as the words left his guide's mouth. "Impressive," was all he muttered as she shuttled him past the fence and further into the palace.

"What is your name,friend?"

That same, confident yet soft voice broke his thoughts. His gaze fell off the imposing gates before him, and he turned his shoulders slightly towards her to let her know she had his full attention while keeping her arm around his. "Friends aren't something I usually allow myself, it's a luxury I rarely indulge." White, shining teeth flashed as he smiled, his prominent chin framing it further. "Though I'll make am exception." Taking a step back he broke the hold and her arm while extending his hand. Wandering eyes looked over the simple, yet stunning dress as they worked their way back swiftly to meet her eyes.

"How rude of me, my name is Jacen Cavill. My colleagues, and the galaxy at large call me Darth Kryptus. It's my pleasure to meet you." His own aura pressed against hers, and he could feel dark power there, but he spoke nothing of it as he waited for her to take his hand. "Lead me wherever you like, I'm enjoying the company more than the scenery, and this is your house. I've shown poor manners once already, I won't do it again."

 

[Hans Vaiden]

Damn. So she had caught him. Of course it was natural for a man to let his eyes wander. Hans was always a firm believer of the "look but don't touch policy." Mainly because more often than not, you had to buy it as well and contrary to popular belief; officers weren't exactly the most well-paid personnel in the fleet. The Captain just figured he was doing himself a favor, enjoying the night while he could. It would be rude not to look anyways.

There wasn't much else to say either.

The Captain's green eyes warily trailed the form of the naked dancer as she walked away, admiring a few plump orbs with each stride. However, he felt a tug to his right, something soft and warm sliding across the bare flesh of his neck. Goosebumps rose upon his skin as a shiver of delight tore through his form. Hans turned to face the sensation, eyelids dropping dreamily as he pressed his lips against hers.

Yum. Strawberry and champagne, all in one succulent package.

Hans' own taste was that of minty freshness and his own tang of alcohol, something that was seemingly a common occurrence among military types.

[member="Tmoxin Temi"]

 

[Laguz Vald]

The shifter disguised her worry with another long sip, allowing the alcoholic beverage to wet her throat as she tried to think of a way to work around the issue that was becoming readily apparent. It was obvious that the Sith Lord in front of her knew the real Danger Arceneau, and however tame he seemed for now, at least one person at the party already knew she wasn't who her visage made her out to be. It wasn't much, but these things were prone to blowing up, and when they did the information spread exponentially. In truth, it was only a matter of 'when', not 'if' she would get discovered, and Laguz wanted to be a number of people away when that happened.

Still, making a scene out of her escape would only make things worse, and she was nothing if not a smooth talker. The woman smiled, then, twirling her tall glass as her emerald eyes flickered back to the woman who looked like she ate people for dinner. Shiver. That could be said for a good half of the guests, of course, but certain people simply exuded death in a way that made you think twice before you went to cross them. On second thought, maybe that skin wasn't worth stealing.

"And what might this business be?" she replied, her voice like satin as she drifted ever so slightly closer to the taller man.

[member="Jared Ovmar"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"]​

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Lorelei Darke"] | [member="Disciple"]

Gerion remained as stiff as a board until Cavill eventually left. The man was gone, but his odor remained lodged in the Umbaran's nostrils. Like a dead wamprat stuck in a sewage pipe, only far less pleasant. It was quite sad that such a brief interaction could be so offensive to Gerion as to sour his mood so quickly, but he reminded himself to cope for the Queen's sake. To fortify his psyche against the fact that Cavill would still be lurking around, Gerion snagged a glass of wine from the tray of the next waiter who went by. Instinctively, he wanted to down the whole thing in one go, but that kind of behavior was reserved for Mandalorians. And the hosts of this quasi-nude tribal jamboree, he would guess.

"No, BlasTech was Cade Lee. The non-force sensitive alter ego of Jacen Cavill." Gerion explained, perhaps a bit too candidly. "I suppose he forgot that as well. Consistency was never his strong suit outside of violence."

He sipped his wine, and then listened to the young general launch on a tirade against Jacen. Gerion listened and, despite his most sincerest efforts, could not find anything factually incorrect. Gerion sipped his wine again when the uniform began to shimmer. That sort of thing was not beyond his observation, considering... Past experiences. The uniformed gentleman identified himself as Disciple. That name brought back memories. Specifically ones of Death Watch, the planet Mandalore, Keldabe, and nuclear warheads. But those were someone else's memories and were thusly not able to be discussed here, so Gerion just sipped his wine a third time.

"Yes, well, a pleasure to meet you, Disciple."

 

[Armand Temi]

Darth Kryptus... her new friend had a name, and whether he liked that word or not, he was a Sith Lord. This pleased the Dathomir witch because as an agent of The Bleeding Sun she was learning how to tame her own nascent Force powers and perhaps this handsome dark Master could help. And the unfortunate thing was that, even though Kryptus hadn't really meant to suggest the prison was her house, she had been staying there quite a bit to make sure Xana, her battle rancor was getting somewhat humane treatment. But she would show the Sith Lord her loyal pet in due time.

She smiled at Jacen Cavill again and took his hand. But she shuddered slightly as she felt the tendrils of his malevolent aura reaching out to push against her own Force sensitivity. All he would feel back was a wild, untamed power and absolutely nothing in the way of resistance. There was something else there though - a little Nightsister magic that may be foreign to him, devilry forged of by the blood of animals and of Perla's old enemies.

She led the Sith Lord down the dim hallway and he would begin to hear the sounds of prisoners, just soft moans and grumbles on this level. There were a few of them in the front cells but for the most part the prison was half full and whether it was for lack of captives or the abundance of executions, the witch initiate didn't actually know. She stopped them by one of the cells, a 10 x 10 concrete box where a male human prisoner shivered in a thin grey uniform. "This one has been locked up for treason, I think," said Perla.

She suddenly became giddy and broke away from the Sith Lord, skipping down the hallway. "All of these prisoners are miserable and foul... let's go see something more fun!" She shouted back to him. If he followed her along he would view the lithe, succubus-like woman slipping down a winding staircase at the end of the main corridor. As he got closer he could hear the wails and screams of humans or sentient beings and his nostrils would be assaulted by an fetid, animal-cage smell which didn't seem to bother Perla one bit.

[member="Jacen Cavill"]