The Emperor's Ball

[Scherezade deWinter]

Wearing: This flimsy fabric claims to be a dress | Combat Boots
Is the +1 of: [member="Alraune Vantai"]

“I just might find a way to get that done,” Madalena laughed, “I’d love to see the look on your face when they come into view.”

Alraune led the two of them deeper into the ball perimeter, and Madalena’s eyes went wide. There were so many people here, and she had never seen any of them. She wouldn’t have recognized a single one even if her life depended on it. It was overwhelming, to be in such a crowd that wasn’t CIS for the first time in what felt like a forever. She wanted to stop by each of them and ask for a name, for an affiliation, for a description of their favorite pair of socks. Was that proper behavior at a stranger’s ball? She was pretty sure it wasn’t. Poodoo.

And still her eyes, glowing with excitement, looked almost everyone over. Everyone was dressed so prettily, the gowns and suits, the hair, the jewels, the appearance… Madalena could get drunk on the sights alone. She wanted more of this, more of these balls, more of this… Dancing? No, her date wanted food first. Madalena nodded almost dumbfounded but went with it. Food would be important with the amount of dancing she wanted anyway.

She laughed softly as Alraune held the seat for her, and gave her a little curtsey.

“Anything meat would be great,” she said, offering her date for the night now a more intense version of the stares she had given all the people on their way to this table, “Meat, fish, cheese, eggs… I’m not really a fan of sweets or breads or things like that.” And then there was the matter of drinks… “And ice cold water would be great too. I’m sort of on a break from liquor right now.”

 

[Koda Fett]

Fett relished in his own isolation. It left him alone with his thoughts, of which he typically had many. He was never one to voice concerns, instead act accordingly in an effort to rectify them. Although, no matter what peace and quiet he had sought upon the balcony, nothing truly lasted forever. It had been shattered, but at least by a presence that wasn't entirely unwelcome.

The Bounty Hunter had turned his head over his shoulder, forcefully made to look upwards in an attempt to recollect the face of whom spoke to him. A silent nod, as per usual, was the greeting he had offered. Uncrossing his arms from his chest, extending them forwards to lean on the railing that divided himself and a drop to the ground floor. His T-Visor remained on those Mandalorians that frolicked in their dresses, their suits, whilst he retained the identity in which he had. His armour, his helmet. It was that in which made Koda Fett who he was, lest he be nothing more than a clone of a man long since dead; his legacy near lost to time.

​"Possibly." His dry response came without so much as a look in Preliat's direction. "I never was a good guest." Fett furthered in his own attempt at humour, no matter how poorly executed. He had pivoted his head, the side of his visor capable of being witnessed by Mantis, "Hadn't thought you one for a suit." Koda claimed, commenting on his choice of clothing. Fett was hardly a Mandalorian come these days, but 'tradition' and 'culture' were a fine enough excuse to keep his armour draped over him.

[member="Preliat Mantis"]

 

[Kay-Larr]

"A free future...yes.
That would be wonderful. And it seems that I shouldn't be the only one worried about a free future, if the Sith Emperor has his way..." And by that of course she meant the Mandalorians. Carnifex was worming his way in to merge them all together so that seperation would be extremely difficult. Commenor and her own part to play in that was very small.

She glanced downward as [member="Krest"] mentioned her husband. Of course she missed him and her children, but she had to keep them away. "I hear he has an execution order out for him. But no,
I haven't spoken to him yet. All of my communications are monitored by Sith Intelligence. And with the blockade, plus the sealing of all the tunnels and secret passages throughout the Palace...it'd be difficult for anyone to sneak in."

She looked over to [member="Jor Kvall"] as he spoke. Maybe she was wrong in her assumption of his statement from earlier. "I'll hear you out when you wish to. I know very well the feeling of needing a sympathetic ear." Kay had so much emotion pented up inside. Yet she couldn't talk to anyone about it. Not when she's been under constant watch. She hasn't even let herself cry. Why give her enemies the satisfaction of seeing her pain?

 

[Dae]

[SIZE=10pt]The young prince’s compliments would be met with a continued bright smile from the Atrisian woman. Her eyes glanced around the room and she could see faces of those she had met before in another time. A hand caressed her face as she pondered her situation. She had come to the party expecting to remain invisible, watch from the shadows and see the interaction of her colleagues with the First Order and the Mandalorian Empire.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Having one of the Sons of the Dark Lord, notice her was quite the surprise. Dae was brought out of her thoughts by his voice, she smiled and looked towards him with a soft shrug. She noticed his offered arm and while she hesitated for a moment, she soon hooked her arm delicately through it. A palm rested on his bicep as she moved in sync with him while they walked. He asked her name and she nodded.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]“Dae.” She left her last name out, she wanted to retain a bit of the mystery as a woman couldn’t let all her secrets out on the first meeting. Taking another sip of her drink, she looked at the man from the corner of her eye. “It seems lady luck is on your side tonight.” She sighed softly as the song changed as she mused over the song. “How are you enjoying your evening? Do you find yourself at these sorts of events often? Heard your father was quite the gentleman himself, is that where you get it?”[/SIZE]

[member="Vaulkhar"]

 

[Preliat Mantis]

One wore the armor. One did not.

Preliat realized which one deserved it more, better fit it in a single instance. He smiled towards [member="Koda Fett"], a knowing, telling smile.

"I thought that the Wolf coming in armor would send a hostile message."

He downed his drink.

"Mandalorians are rarely good guests, even if we are invited."

He observed Koda, watching his demeanor. He noted that even surrounded by so called allies, that the Bounty Hunter was ice-cold and on the defensive. A good trait, a man who learned to trust no one, or keep them at arms distance.

"People often have a strange habit of enjoying themselves at parties, Koda."

[member="Koda Fett"]

 

[Vaulkhar]

"Hmm," Vaulkhar pondered her words momentarily, his smile taking on a notably sarcastic edge to it. "I'm not sure I would describe my father as such. Many words come to mind, though that is not one of them, madam." He kept a slow pace as they walked, seemingly drifting through the hall with no particular destination in mind. His attention was almost wholly on Dae, though occasionally he'd weave between party guests to avoid a collision. "Dae," he said her name once, allowing it to hang in the air as if to taste it. After several long seconds he nodded to himself and peered back at the woman to study her form. Vaulkhar was particularly impressed in her figure and form, that he could not deny. Though she carried herself in a manner he also found interesting, while she treated him as if he were above her station, it seemed to him she was well versed in the matters of nobility and higher class. A strange but enthralling idea to the young prince.

"It is a beautiful name. Elegant in nature, though simple in context. I like it," Vaulkhar flashed the woman a smile a mix between boyish and sincere. "So miss Dae, what brings you to the Emperor's Ball this evening? Surely it was not for the attentions of myself, so I am interested," once more he offered a smile to show genuine interest in the woman. His gaze drifted elsewhere momentarily as he opted to watch the procession that was his father and his entourage drifting further and further away from him as time went on. It was ironic, though the half breed felt in that moment as if this was simply the relationship between he and his father. Nothing more than a member of his entourage, easily forgotten as time went on. Depressing.

[member="Dae"]

 

[Koda Fett]

The Bounty Hunter had learned through written word, and experience, that you're not to trust a single soul. It only ever left you with your guard down, ready to be caught at a surprise, and in that moment you were sure to face your death. That creed- Jango's Creed, was telling. His pseudo father, or so he saw it, had been the very best at what he did, and after that had been his legitimate son (if that truly counted), and he too became the best in that profession. Koda becoming the Bounty Hunter he is was not by chance, but instead careful consideration of the rules he was to follow. They held up, they kept him alive. There was no reason to stray from dear old Jango's teachings.

"Are you one of those people?" His muffled voice came through, synthesised by the internal microphone. "Or are you too full of rage?" He probed.

[member="Preliat Mantis"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Galidraan, Blakeslee Falls Estate

Currently In: The Ballroom, near the stairs to the courtyard.
Interacting With: [member="Nilia Saavilin"] │ [member="Vestille Thumahra"] │ [member="Vaylin"]
___________________________________________

Although Maliphant had spent the entire trip in an overly joyous mood, there seemed to be a singular thing that upset the youthful Sith Knight; touching him without his consent. His expression, peaceful and enthralled in explaining whatever his apprentice wished to ask suddenly turned apathetic and cold, what generally seemed to be his expression when around anyone but his apprentices; a power move, in more politician terms, to hide all that one might think of as weakness. Despite the Sith’s emphasis on emotion, many saw the active expression of anything but anger to be weakness, and Maliphant dared not show weakness to a Sith.

His electrum gaze slowly stirred, falling upon the Zabrak who had passed herself past him, then turned to them both. Although The Slave might have offered her a sultry grin, a passive comment on her assets, even the immediate reaction of grabbing back, Maliphant offered none of these, simply allowing his apprentice to tighten her grip with almost no response from her master. It took a moment, but after Maliphant forced the new arrival to wait for even a few seconds as he sized them up, he spoke;

“I wish I could, Nilia, though I have no idea who this is…”, he said as his gaze never left the Zabrak. His free hand moved to his pocket, as he cocked his head slightly before speaking again;

“Can I help you, Sith?”, his voice carrying the slight intimidation that came from a Sith that knew what they were capable of.

Vaylin could feel it, that despite all the similarities this knight carried with The Slave, in looks, in presence within The Force, even down to the way his expression seemed to taunt, this man was far more dangerous. His body was not lithe, the result of overzealous drug use, but the tamed form of a warrior; evident in the healthiness in his face, and the piercing gaze only those corrupted eyes could carry.

Whoever this doppelganger was, he was not the man she knew, but something far more.

 

[Preliat Mantis]

Too full of rage?

Preliat was a sea, a bottomless pit- of rage. To him, there was nothing but the anger. Nothing but the rage. Nothing but his never-ending war. The question made Preliat think for a moment. A unique expression crossed his face. Introspection.

"Depends on the company."

Preliat leaned on the balcony near him, looking over the same skyline he was.

"Parties are also nice places to meet women, too, Koda."

[member="Koda Fett"]

 

[Mythos]

Location: Between the Entrance and the stairs.
Objective: Fist Bump Maliphant
Items: Dark Bota Cigar,
Interacting with: Maliphant, Vestille and Nilia

Mythos joined her battle cry with one of his own, the two raising their glasses of alcohol in revelry as they walked in, Mythos holding the decapitated head of the animal high all the while flexing his naturally toned muscles. He placed the large bottle of lum in the table so everyone could have a swig of it and with his other hand he pulled a large cigar filled with Dark Bota and lit it using a fancy looking lighter he got. "What I'm saying is, owner of my heart, that would be a massive pair of scissors and quite possibly a waste of good Twi'lek dancers" He said while he took a long drag of his Dark Bota cigar and tossed the smoke in the air as to not bother anyone with the smoke and smell. "Also!" He shouted, looking at her and around him as if looking for someone specific. "I wanted to bring My Golden Armor, The Man who made it for me I heard would be here! but No! It has weapons!" He complained rather annoyed, what good was making [member="Kaine Australis"] make you a walking masterpiece of an armor if you can only use to kill people? He was sure the Mandalorian would agree.

He was under the influence of alcohol but he was still very much on his toes, he used his strength and balance to always keep a hold of Mara, both of them looking very expensive. Between each other in jewelry they had an entire shop and today was the day to flaunt it. Before they could get to the good stuff and the real fun however they had to go cordially salute and meet the man who made this all possible, [member="Darth Carnifex"] and his family which were on his throne and that's where they were headed. Before they could join the Emperor and the Lord of Lies [member="Darth Prazutis"] on the other side of where he was, Mythos considered he needed to greet those in between, after all, he considered himself the cure for low morale anywhere.

He set off into the ballroom but instantly to his flank in the stairs a familiar face, a familiar face even before The Sith Empire, [member="Darth Maliphant"]. Mythos tugged at the arm of Mara, changing course entirely as he placed the stuffed head of the large beast over his own head yet again. "Brother!" He said, raising his fist in a greeting to the Sith Knight and placing it a full two feet from him as he walked forward.

Around the Sith Knight were several other members of the brotherhood that he had yet not met; [member="Vaylin"], [member="Vestille Thumahra"] and [member="Nilia Saavilin"]. Each one getting a nod and a charismatic wide smile from the Sith Lord. He laughed and looked around him, absorbing the great music and the atmosphere of camaraderie he had so wished for while in the One Sith. "My Brothers and Sisters of the sword, this is my Fiancee Mara. I'm just the Sith with the Ax" He said, laughing as he did to ease any tension that would have existed before his arrival.​

 

[AMCO]

Location: Ballroom
Interacting With: [member="Shoma Ike"] & [member="Muad Dib"]
Wearing: Custom Suit with Shimmersilk Half-Cloak.
+1: [member="Icarn Amonta"]

---

---

---

Their connection was through Atrisia, then. In the case of Muad Dib, a bond of choice rather than birth alone. He could respect that.

"Pleasure to meet you..." An almost unnoticeable pause, as if trying to scrounge up any titles he might have overheard. "... Mr. Dib." Another pause, as the young Knight felt the stain of darkness that clung to the other, that same stain of Sorcery that clung to himself. It was a guess, but one of which he was reasonably confident. "Always a pleasure meeting a fellow Sorcerer."

Yes, the boy definitely knew what he was doing. Taking the focus off himself by showing interest -whether real or imaginary- in Adrian's own doings. Did he detect an attempt to play his ego in there too, perhaps, or was it merely the usual pleasantries? No matter, the young Knight was far from opposed to talking about himself, though he did flash the boy-king a knowing smile first.

"Oh, you know, the usual: Politics, scholarly pursuits... science projects." At that last part, his smile turned into an odd combination of joyous and oddly discomforting, an almost maniacal glitter in his eyes. Perhaps it was the poorly masked fervour in his tone, perhaps it was the way his gaze strayed towards the Sorcerous creation that was his right arm. Perhaps it was simply the thought of what a Sith Sorcerer might consider to be Science.

Smile turning mischevious, he spread his hands slightly outward, tone that of amusement tinged with a hint of annoyance. "It's a shame how fearful the hoi polloi is of progress, no?"

 

[Koda Fett]

His helmeted head had turned away, no longer side-visoring the Wolf of Mandalore as his the T had fallen over the estate once more. There were those that frolicked as if they were lunatics, embraced those that they loved, engaged in conversation, or -- in Munin's case -- made death threats. If a conflict were to start, it was bound to be by Munin's hand. Perhaps the distance he created was intentional, after all. Yet, nevertheless, the Bounty Hunter ventured back and forth throughout his mind as fonder memories swarmed to him, but were gone in an instant. "I tried that once." His head lazily rotating ever-so-slightly to catch the briefest of glimpses of Preliat. "Didn't work out."

Koda Fett was the Bounty Hunter. He was cold, detached, untrusting, and unwavering in his relentless efficiency. His entire existence had been dedicated to gaining the approval of a dead-man, and whilst clearly impossible, he strived for it more than anything else. There wasn't room for a woman in Fett's life, not anymore, not since this journey.

[member="Preliat Mantis"]

 

[Ronan Vizsla]

Ronan watched [member="Vilaz Munin"] and [member="Briika Munin"] go.

Something told him the former was going to get himself into trouble.

Luckily for this night that wasn't going to be his problem.

"She is better." Vizsla corrected her without hesitation. Even if Ronan had always been silent about it, he was proud of her ability to create. He hadn't understood it. Never. When your entire life revolved around destruction, something as straightforward as painting seemed strange. But he had been proud of it. Even let her tattoo him, her very first one. It had been... awkward. Her hands still shaking, not entirely sure how to handle the instrument.

But she had done it.

And now his shoulder had a strange... tree... on his arm.

That was partially why, even though he preferred [member="Tamara Wren"]'s newfound sense of duty, Ronan still tried to help her remember. She couldn't create anymore. Not with joy anyway and that was enough for him to do his best for her.

"No, it's not." Vizsla responded after a moment more of memories. "The Chasm was truth. Honest. Nobody pretended... they were what they were." He glanced towards the crowd as they moved towards the bartender with the flutes of drink. "These ones are fake. Fake smiles. Daggers in the sleeves." There wasn't an attempt to be hushed about it. He spoke as loud as was comfortable to him. One of the glasses were accepted. He squinted at it.

Dainty.

Small enough it was more fitting to put between his two fingers than hold in a hand.

Vizsla took a sip. Carefully. It might even have looked a bit comedic, the way he sipped at it like it was some sort of acid. Then he noticed that the bartender was still lounging around them. A scowl was send her way and she scurried off.

A snort.

"Fragile creatures." A glance over to Irella. "You consider a return to the Chasm then?" From anyone else it might have sounded as a joke, but in truth Vizsla was weighing his own mind on it.

[member="Irella Vizsla"]

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

The Ballroom
Wearing: Zhongshan Suit, Shimmersilk Cape, HoloLink
Interacting with: [member="Muad Dib"] | [member="Adrian Vandiir"]

Maud's explanation provided a great deal more information about the man than Shoma had known.

And, to be quite honest, was actually good to here. Turning toward the man, the teen gave a slight bow as he noted aloud, "After so much reconstruction, it's welcoming to think that immigration may be returning to my world."

A Mandalorian desiring to call Atrisia home.

That was unexpected. And thoroughly welcome after everything that the planet had been through.

To be truthful, just hearing that gave Shoma hope that maybe all of his sacrifice and work might have actually made some concrete results for the planet. Cities starting to recover. People returning to the planet.

Of course, the Sith assault on Shri-Tal and the evacuation of the Atrisian ex-patriots had helped with that in a less-than-voluntary way. But still, people were alive. They had food. They had shelter. And they had a representative government that they could freely participate in.

And benefited from the economic stability of the First Order, which also benefited from the stability afforded by the Sith-Imperial Treaty. It was all a very complex web of interconnected systems.

Some of that seen as good. Some of that seen as evil. And a great deal of indifference in between. While Jedi might argue over the morality of the means, it was the ends that supplied results. And results were the only concrete measurement that Shoma had by which to judge his administration, or to be judged for what his administration was doing.

"Plus, I'd be curious what insights you might have as a Mandalorian regarding our Yovshin warrior culture," the youth confessed, quite sincerely, before he shifted his attention back over to the Sith Knight.

It was a strange thing to admit that he was actually starting to enjoy the company. "Science experiments? Truly?" the boy echoed, his curiosity piqued as the man spoke of his future plans.

One thing that Shoma had taken for granted was his time as the junior ambassador for the worlds of the Galactic Alliance, a position that had allowed him to travel. From Chiss Space and the Iron Empire to the Kathol Outback and the Outer Rim Coalition, in a Loronar explorer -- stargazing and asking about what was out there.

And wondering what he might have done had his older brother lived through the Alliance invasion of Atrisia.

But, that was not a choice given him. "My Atrisian Naval Corps routinely engages in missions of a scientific nature. Perhaps an opportunity for scientific collaboration between our people might present itself," the teen proposed idly. "I should be open to that, in any event."

All right, so proposing a collaboration with the Sith wasn't exactly the Jedi thing to do. Shoma wasn't a Jedi Consular, he was a planetary ruler. And that was a vocation that required building bridges.

Even one over troubled waters.

 

[Hira Mitsae]

With: [member="Umai"]
Nearby: [member="Varas Ren"] [member="Primat Ren"]

They stepped together, hand in hand, arm in arm.

Pressed almost as close as they had in that dark alcove, but with different intentions in mind. They moved against the sound of the waltz slowly trickling their way through some of the open windows. Soon enough it would become clear to Umai that Jul wasn't very practiced in this dance. His movements slightly delayed, just a bit out of rhythm as he caught up with something.

It was probably for the best that Umai didn't realize the shadow was on his shoulder and whispering him directions.

"Dis be not my style, miss Silver," He murmured softly against her. "Pleasant... regardless." It was only the bell-chiming laugh that brought Julian's attention to the rustles of plants some distance away from them.

Two figures.

Mostly involved with themselves, but sending a few glances towards them too. He gestured towards them- a hand of greeting, before they disappeared back into the wild. It was for the best, no? Julian already (literally) had his hands full on one person this evening. "Many... people come, when Sith celebrate." It wasn't a judgement. Nobody could claim Julian was a beacon of justice, eh?

"There be thoughts swirling in your brain about them, cyattie, whatcha thinking?"

 

[H3xle]

LOCATION: The Emperor's Ball
OBJECTIVE: Don't Die
ALLIES: [member="vestille thumahra"]? Who is interacting with [member="fiolette yvarro"] and [member="taeli raaf"]
ENEMY: Socializing

Put Kylea in a fighter craft of nearly any make, and she'd be comfortable in any conditions, from just flying around on a lark to in the midst of a major naval engagement. Heck, put Kylea in a firefight groundside with nothing but the clothes on her back and she'd be fine. She'd received training for most types of combat, especially from the seat and controls of a fighter.

She hadn't received training in socializing, however. In the flotilla she had grown up in, high society was dining with the Captain or this or that Lord of the Sith. That required nothing so much as wearing a dress uniform and keeping your head down, and answering any questions that came your way.

This...this was something of an entirely different order.

Kylea walked into the ball in her dress uniform. It wasn't a flight suit, but it wasn't entirely unfamiliar either. At her hip was the dagger that her Lieutenant's rank insignia allowed her to wear. That she was only mildly competent in it's use explained why it gave her no comfort as her eyes passed over the crowd. The number of people didn't truly bother her, but the fact that any of them would want to talk to her gave her spine chills. The safe fall back in a conversation for her would be flying, but her program was classified, and Kylea hadn't been given a list of who was read in and who wasn't.

Her eyes alighted upon the almost equally uncomfortable form of General Vestille Thumahra, one that Kylea had met on previous occasions, and she knew had some knowledge of her program. That he was Legion and not Navy didn't matter to her.

Any port in a storm, as the saying went.

With as much grace as she could muster, she slipped into the crowd, continuously averting her gaze from this person and that as she made her way to General Thumahra.

'Nope, not here to talk. Yep, dress uniform at a ball, novel idea.' Her mind talked freely, though her mouth remained closed, lips drawn into a thin line. 'Whoa, you've had too much to drink already...' She thought, slipping past a couple of people who were not dressed in Sith Imperial uniforms, and were laughing boisterously. With a few more twists and turns, making this feel almost like a run in a flight simulator, she came out of the crowd at the side of General Thumahra.

And right into whatever conversation he'd been having with two ladies that Kylea couldn't place at all. Though the moment she appeared, the two ladies left arm in arm. Relief almost painted itself across her face, but she kept her expression schooled as she nodded to the general.

"General, I don't know if you remember me. Lieutenant Varjo." She swallowed hard for a moment, eyes flashing once again tot he rank insignia, which had been different before. "Congratulations on your promotion..."

 

[Astrid Gray]

Location: Galidraan, Blakeslee Falls Estate - Ballroom | Main Floor
With: [member="Khonsu Amon"]

Astrid had opted to simply mingle for the time being, claiming a glass of champagne along the way. There was amusement to be found watching the dance floor, of the various couples that danced about, sometimes departing with the change of music. She had spotted a few that were moving more awkwardly, stepping on several feet along the way.

For Astrid though, she remained on the sidelines, giving her a good vantage point to spot key individuals littered around the ballroom.

One in particular was [member="Darth Carnifex"], who she caught sight of as he greeted the young [member="Adara Raxis"]. It was probably the first time she had witnessed the Emperor being gentle around someone other than the immediate family; at least of those that were frequently around.

A different side to the otherwise intimidating Zambrano.

In one of his sweeping gazes across the ballroom, Astrid managed to grab his attention for a moment. She gave him a silent greeting, the raising of her glass and small nod. They hadn't directly spoken again since she was in hospital. She wanted to congratulate him on a marvelous turnout for the first Emperor's Ball.

But that would have to wait until later in the night, as Astrid's attention shifted to a new arrival.

Khonsu Amon, the Golden Company's Twisuns Praetor.

Both the man and the company were of interest to her, and saw a prime opportunity upon learning he was on the invitation list for the event. Although it had all been dependant on whether the mercenary would actually attend the Ball. It didn't strike her as his type of thing, yet she had a feeling he wouldn't have much of a choice. From what she had learned, he had become more of a face for the Golden Company these days.

Finishing the last bit of champagne, Astrid made her way towards the man. She placed the empty glass on a passing waiter's tray, but her eyes were focused on Khonsu. She watched as he walked further into the venue, noticing the man's stride as he went.

To her it was the stride of someone who didn't want to be here, but had to; for the sake of appearances.

"Greetings, Mr. Amon. Care for a dance?" Astrid stood before him, a small smile on her face. She just about matched his height. Without the heels she would've been a couple inches shorter, but here she could look the man directly in the eyes.

Astrid let her offer hang in the air, leaving it open if the man preferred not to dance.

 

[Keira Cerdulan]

Balls, never had those on Cademimu. And Keira couldn’t say she loved but, but by every hell of Corellia they were better than clubbing with Mastiff Squadron outside of Imperial Space when they decided they had been good enough to let them have fun. Not causing trouble in Imperial Space. But fun nonetheless.

The dressy uniform though? No thanks, getting right back into the flight suit or some nice garbs of Underworld trash would be much nicer. Especially since it felt like she was marked, the insignia for Mastiff Squadron free for anyone to see if they looked along with the symbol of the Starfighter Corps itself, the former was what gave her grief. Mastiff Squadron wasn’t some shiny recruits from the best academy, they were pirates, criminals, scum. Not exactly the most liked bunch, and the small Corellian wasn’t going to just sit around till she got berated. If she was ever going to get berated. Getting a little paranoid.

Instead, the blonde just made her way around with as many drinks as they would allow her to carry (not enough for her is the answer to how much). Looking around for just someone to latch onto and talk to, the Squadron had separated for this jolly thing. They had practically made them separate, got too rowdy when they were together with booze.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Emperor inclined his head in respect for the Lady of Secrets again, his attention now being drawn to the armored figure which approached from out in the crowd. He was but one of the few who had been granted the privilege of wearing their armor at this occasion, as the Emperor entrusted these individuals with keeping their tempers in check. A possibly dangerous course of action, but one that his oracles had assured would not end in violence.

"Su cuy, Alor Munin. Su cuy, Briika Munin. Your wife is simply radiant tonight, my old friend."

Vilaz Munin had served the Emperor well for roughly a decade, his experiences and skills always being put to good use to aid the Sith cause. A pity that the Red Coronation drove the Clans Vizsla, Fett, and Munin away from the Mandalorian Empire, otherwise their relations with the Sith Empire might be on better footing. Most of the other Mandalorian clans were short-sighted or imputent and had to be routinely reprimanded for their actions, yet the consequences of which never seemed to stick long enough. Yasha Mantis always seemed to be too eager to let slights against his nation to go unpunished, while he had worked tirelessly to ferment cordiality among his own when viewing the Mandalorian people as a whole.

Alas, that was the curse of history, endlessly repeating itself.

Luckily, Lady Raaf caught Vilaz's little reactionary quip before he could, and had subtly conveyed that any confrontation would be harshly punished. "Indeed, allies we all are. We fought the same battles against the same enemies, and now share the spoils of a collective triumph against the Light." His eyes glanced over to [member="Ronan Vizsla"], who was partaking of the party's standard drinks and by the emotions that rolled off of him he obviously disliked what he saw.

A shame, but understandable.

The Emperor pulled aside one of his nearby servants, and there were always some nearby to lend a hand at his beck and call, and whispered, "Fetch Alor Vizsla something more suiting to his tastes from the cellar, something Mandalorian, if you would."

[member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Adara Raxis"] | [member="Kaine Australis"] | [member="Taeli Raaf"] | [member="Fiolette Yvarro"] | [member="Vilaz Munin"] | [member="Briika Munin"] | [member="Irella Vizsla"]​

 

[Kaalia Pavanos]

Getting a bite to eat​

Outdoor dining and bar​

With [member="Ishana Pavanos"]​

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Perhaps Ishana was right in saying Kaalia's claim that she was only just a little bit hungry undersold it, or perhaps she really wasn't absolutely starving just yet. The woman decided to keep that a mystery for just a while longer, with the reason why also being denied seeing the light of day. Her better half would find out by how much she was going to be eating anyway, so despite the only answer to the playful quip being a wide grin things would be made clear sooner much rather than later. A small mystery that wasn't all too difficult to solve if one was attentive enough. When it came to the food itself, however, it was no mystery in the slightest that it all looked incredibly appetizing. In fact, the redhead had half a mind to go for the 'sample platter' approach, but decided against it.

"I doubt I would do much better than you in knowing what is what," Kaalia said amusedly as she took a plate for herself, "there's a reason I try to avoid having to prepare meals as much as possible." Ishana was definitely more well-versed in the culinary world than herself, even if the comparison wasn't much of an accurate reflection. The Kro Varian had at the very least learned how to not let things burn while cooking, but beyond that there wasn't much. She had never been a great cook and the short time during which she had tried to sharpen up her skills hadn't been of much help in that regard. When it came to knowing what kind of food came from where she didn't score too many more points, meaning cooking wasn't the only thing she wasn't all that great at.

After taking a few moments to look over the vast array of choices the buffet had to offer, Kaalia then pointed towards what she had settled on trying first. "The wraps you pointed out do look quite good. I think I will go for one or two of those." Despite being on Bastion on a regular basis for most of her dealings as Sith, she had never treated herself to one. But, if there was any moment in time to rectify that, then this was the best moment to do so. After walking to the section of the buffet where they were waiting for the guests to pick them out, she put two of them onto her plate. They weren't all that large, though, so there was ample room to pick something else alongside them. "And... I'll also take some of whatever you pick. There's too much to choose from, I would take way too long otherwise."