Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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The Emperor's Ball

Looking to enjoy the evening with [member="Ishana Pavanos"]
The courtyard, just arriving





This was a night Kaalia had been looking forward to. It had been a long time since she had last attended an event of this caliber and as distance made the heart grow fonder, when the day had finally come she spent the morning and afternoon buzzing about it and making sure her look and gown were nothing short of perfect. From her dress, to her heels, to her makeup, to the way her red locks were carefully done up into a knot, her appearance made it very clear she had spent many hours preparing for this event. This all created a stark contrast compared to the first ball she had ever attended; she had been reluctant to go in the first place, felt horribly uncomfortable in a dress, even more so in heels, and was simply too insecure to mingle. But, with how drastically different her life looked now, these were only some of the many things that had changed.

Under normal circumstances this side of her was something the woman would never show in the presence of fellow Sith, but although she was on the guest list under the name Darth Avacyn that person would not be making an appearance tonight. No, this was all about spending an enchanted evening with the most important person in her life. Her wife, her anchor, the woman she would do anything for. And soon, something else would be added to that list. Something that Ishana didn't know just yet.

"Isn't the view stunning?" Kaalia turned her head away from the window to then lock eyes with the Balmorran, who was sitting next to her in the speeder. "It's almost as stunning as you," she followed up while she took her hand into her own and threaded their fingers together. Although it was said in a somewhat tongue-in-cheek tone, that didn't make the message that was brought across any less truthful. When they came to a stop she took a moment to take in the fountain on their left before it was time to make their way out of the speeder and into the estate. "Here we are," she said as the door was opened for them, hiding her excitement as much as she could.

Nothing would ruin this evening, of that Kaalia was certain.
 

Valgærd

Well-Known Member
What the hells are you doing here?

I asked the question over and over as I walked slowly towards the estate. However, the words sounded in my mother's disapproving tone; one of the very few memories I had gained of her from my strange trip into the mist. Drawing in a deep breath, I shook my head of the thoughts. No use second-guessing myself now. Even if I couldn't quite remember how I found out about this event, or indeed garnered entry. That seemed to be how it was, these days. It was as if there had been some lingering presence of my Mother in that fog... or at least... her magic. Since then things had gotten... weirder.

Well, it wasn't like I was complaining. Dathomirian magic was weird magic, and its practitioners often shunned for it. This was expected, at the very least. My brow was furrowed in thought, steps carrying me closer to the might estate almost without my conscious input.

So when that smooth baritone voice called out to me, a yelp of surprise escaped my lips before I could stop it.

From the shadow of a statue emerged a man. He had skin of ebony, the light rippling over the curves of his muscular build. His hair and beard were inky black, but amid this darkness his eyes seemed to gleam brightly. His accent was... exotic, quite unlike anything I'd ever heard. After a moment to recover from my start, I whipped my head around. No, I was the only one approaching right now from this direction. He was talking to me.

I raised an eyebrow, burying my racing heart beneath a smirk of my own as I took a step towards him, then another. I swept out one arm, sweeping aside the fabric of my cloak. Tonight, it had a decorative clasp, and of course, was not activated. As I did, my ring flashed in the light. Fitting, perhaps that I found myself among the Sith, wearing artefacts steeped in their strange arts.

"You have me at a disadvantage. . . sorcerer," I began, giving a name to the strange energy that seemed to encapsulate and surround him, "I haven't had a chance to come up with a fitting name for you yet."

With two more steps, I reached him. Was it wise to simply walk right up to the first Sith to addressed me? No, and my entire body seemed acutely aware of that, my heart racing in my throat. I was most definitely playing with the big boys now. However approach him I did, dropping my gaze respectfully,

"But I'd be happy to trade you a few seconds for a name." I dropped into a curtsy, "I'd even give you mine."

Oh yeah, flirt with the Sith sorcerer, what could possibly go wrong?

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[member="Julian Imani"]​
 

Hira Mitsae

Ain't No Rest For The Wicked
[member="Umai"]

A chuckle escaped him. It chimed as if it was a tone of music.

Sorcerer.

"Ah, ah, ah, ya a sharp one, ain'tcha. Sorcerer I am not. Witch. Not da same, nah?" Ticking the edge of his temple to relay the meaning and import. His head tilted a fraction, like he was listening to something else for a moment and perhaps Umai would sense it. The presence. Just at the edge of their peripheral sensation. "Mm, I like dis one, breddah, thank ya for leading us to 'er, yah." It didn't bother him that she was right there as he spoke to the shadow.

It was no secret.

Besides the annoyance the shadowman felt at being displayed on his wrist was amusing to him.

"Names have power, Sliver Silver, they do, they do. But an exchange..." He stepped closer, his hand reaching out, palm up for hers to place hers in if she wished. "Bargain done. They be calling me Julian Imani. Jul for those I like and me like you plenty." They were close together now. Close enough that Umai could almost taste the thick wash of scent on him. Spices, many of them, herbs. If she held his hand she would feel the rough callouses and the sensation of dirt.

He rooted in it and dug up the values of earth.

"Ya be goin' to da party then? To dance away da night? Or is ya purpose different than da?"
 
The Bounty Hunter at the Ball. Comical. The invitation was extended from the Empire itself, and promptly found itself disregarded in favour of the credits he could earn by bringing the scum of the galaxy to some poor approximation of justice. Yet, Vizsla -- as it always seems to be -- had thrust it his way too. Made him think twice, thrice, perhaps even a fourth about whether or not he was to be within attendance. It amounted to a bargain of sorts, something that had turned it into a business related venture- as it always was with Koda Fett. There were more Sith Lords, more Imperial Agents and sympathisers than one was capable of poking a stick out, and they always required the talents of someone such as himself. A favourite of Carnifex's, but the Dark Lord of the Sith didn't always require his services. Perhaps he could branch out; never to enjoy himself, of course. No. That would be absurd.

"Hmph." Fett had huffed within amusement. It seemed that the only time he really did was at the expense of another, and Ronan had become an increasingly popular target. It seemed that as Ronan ventured down the path of humanity, Fett remained a stalwart defender of a concept that drove a man to insanity, that broke him down and reduced him to ash. His eventual downfall, no doubt. All he had to do was change.

He ventured forth with an expression similar to that of disgust. Everything was so clean with all their gowns, their suits, make-up and all. Fett happened to be a spec of dirt within the grand estate, his armour scratched, scorched, battered and bruised; surely a fleck of dried blood, able to be removed with the lightest of touch, was bound to be stuck to him somewhere. This, however, was a ball. It was here that everyone civilised had gathered together to act as such, even if they simply appeared to be wolves in sheep clothing. There was never a point in hiding it. They were all killers, one way or another. Words were as good a weapon as any.

Fett peered over his shoulder, witnessing the contact between both Tamara and Vizsla. It had been strange seeing the girl... alive. The last time he had she was beneath a sheet, dead, killed by the rage of those who were unwilling to accept the change coming to Mandalore. Perhaps they were true, or they were fake- it didn't matter. His T-Visor stare was lengthy, lost in the moment as he found himself reeling back to fonder memories. He wasn't such a machine back then, things weren't so black and white, and his hands weren't stained with all this blood.

"Vizsla." Koda had called out, entertained by the multiple heads of House Vizsla that had turned his way. "Careful." His helmeted head nodded in Irella's direction. If there was anything he truly despised it were the Jedi, and with that came mistrust. It may have been something he was better off not knowing, but the Mandalorian could behave himself. Nevertheless, Fett had taken his steps forwards in search of anything to encapsulate his attention, mostly a drink.

[member="Ronan Vizsla"] | [member="Vilaz Munin"] | [member="Tamara Wren"] | [member="Irella Toldreyn"]
 

Valgærd

Well-Known Member
By now I was used to the uneasiness.

Or perhaps, it was simply becoming less uneasy, the energy that had clung to me. However as I drew nearer to the ebony warrior, I sensed something else. It did not so much overpower my own magic, as it did simply exist in it, in front of it, around it. We could have been the only two on the entire planet, and we still wouldn't be alone, I suspect. He spoke again, and with a blush I found myself quite taken by that exotic accent, I wanted to listen to him more, hells, I could listen to him all night.

He corrected my guess and I nodded in agreement, the two were different, fundamentally, although, it could be difficult to articulate sometimes. In the next breath he confirmed my suspicions, addressing some other being that I, at least, couldn't see. What he said, however, drew my attention. Led to? Oh I would love to pick this man's brain about that at some point, but now was hardly the time or place.

Again he spoke, and again, I nodded quietly. Names did have power, which was why I had asked for his before offering my own. Although, as the little smile on my lips no doubt betrayed; I liked his nickname for me. He gave his name, an extension of trust that did not go unnoticed. I accepted the offered gesture, sliding my hand gently into his. The bouquet that surrounded him, and the name he gave, all seemed to add to the exotic air about him.

"Jul" I repeated, tasting the word, feeling how it rolled off my tongue, "Umai, although, I kind of like 'Silver'."

I flicked a glance up to the estate proper at his mention of the ball. Although I was attempting to smother it, the fear I was burying spiked briefly. There was so much power here tonight. The emperor himself was even there.

"I... am not sure yet," I confessed, "I was hoping I'd find out along the way. What about you, Witch? Here to sweep a girl off her feet? Or is there something else drawing you here?"

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[member="Julian Imani"]​
 
Vaylin let out a mumble, eyes shifting up and down between herself and the mirror that was stood before her. The Valkyrie was dressed in her uniform, a suitable combination of red and black that symbolized her ties to the Sith Empire. It had been tailored specifically for her, as part of her ascent as Commander of the Vermillion Authority.

She had tried it on before, of course Vaylin had to at least see how it fitted her. But Force knows she hated it, far too restricting for her personal tastes. It was why she never wore it when she was meant to; when addressing the crew of the War Fleet. For that, she simple opted to wear her armour, which had become a much more common sight as of late.

Unfortunately that wasn't going to cut it here. It was a black tie affair, meaning it was this or a dress. And while the Sith wasn't opposed to the latter, she had opted for the uniform.

Because if there was ever an appropriate time to don it, the Ball was a good occasion as any.

With one last shift, checking how the uniform hugged her, Vaylin departed from her quarters just as her shuttle landed before the Blakeslee Falls Estate. She descended the ramp just in time to see the Emperor's group pass through the gates. Vaylin recognized [member="Darth Carnifex"] and [member="Darth Prazutis"], but it was the third that was unknown to her; [member="Vaulkhar"] .

How interesting.

The Sith silently followed after them, using their presence to remain unnoticed. Which wasn't particularly too difficult, given the group's towering stature and the fact they drew the vast majority of everyone's attention. Unfortunately for Vaylin, that wasn't going to last for much longer. As she handed her invitation to the greeting staff, and was led towards the ballroom's entrance. Then stepping on through...

"Lady Vaylin, Valkyrie of the Sith Empire, and War Fleet Commander."

Kark.

That...she wasn't expecting, and almost immediately wanted to make a hasty beeline towards the bar. But Vaylin managed to keep her cool and calmly walked further into the Ballroom. Purple eyes shifted around the wide open space, sifting through the crowds recognizing a few that had already arrived. From the Emperor meeting two of his wives, to the couple that was [member="Fiolette Yvarro"] and [member="Taeli Raaf"].
 
Location: Ballroom
Interacting With: [member="Shoma Ike"]
Wearing: Custom Suit with Shimmersilk Half-Cloak.




Airspeeder sliding through the clouds, Adrian took the time to admire the graceful contours of the Galidraani landscape. It was his first time on the world, and yet it felt strangely familiar, its aristocratic ways finding quick purchase among one who had spent much of his formative years separate from the great unwashed masses. A gap that had only grown ever wider since his induction into the Brotherhood of the Sith.

Rows of hidden microrepulsors assuring a silent descent, the sleek silvery vessel landed before the courtyard, a finely dressed valet approaching to meet him. Exciting the driverless vehicle, he waved away the man, enjoying his startled look when the airspeeder took off as if on its own volition. One of the many advantages of transitioning away from non-integrated drivers, that.

Smug eyes passing over the servants and guards as if they weren't even there, he found himself recognising faces and presences both familiar and famous. Truly, this was quite the event, something made evident by the impressive guest list. This was where he was at his best, with the possible exception of a library or the lab. This was his battlefield, his hunting grounds.

Suddenly, a predatory gleam appeared in his eyes. Jedi? How... interesting. A lightsider in the heart of the Sith Empire; a lone candle in a sea of darkness.

"Adrian Vandiir, Knight of the Sith and Imperial Champion."

Walking confidently through the entrance, he scarcely saw fit to bestow the announcer with a moment of his attention, instead opting to approach with his usual casual confidence that ever-so-out-of-place presence from the direction of the courtyard.

"Scion of a broken order and monarch of a cowed people, hmm?" Expression showing not a hint of animosity, he chuckled lightly. "Tell me, what brings you to this of all places?"
 

Hira Mitsae

Ain't No Rest For The Wicked
[member="Umai"]

In a way.

Jul wasn't sure what the shadow's aim was with Umai.

All he knew what that she would be here and that the shadow wanted him to be here to catch her mid-step. Bargain done... it was a sentence and a mantra that had come to define him over the years. "Then silver is, cyattie." There was a soft tug at her hand, a gesture to make her step closer as if he was about to share a secret with her. Unless she stepped back he'd lean in as well.

His nose almost brushing the line of her jaw, before his voice breathed against her ear.

"It's da silver sliver that beckoned an' here me is." This was Imani. All touch, all proximity. Weaving himself into personal space with no concern. For some that was annoying, maybe even something to be pushed back.

Jul didn't mind.

He enjoyed people. Their words, their thoughts... the essence that made them them. "If ya want, we go together, ya? Dance a bit. Dig deeper beyond da name. Secret..." Brushing a soft nuzzle against her ear, bringing it closer. "...for... secret." It was in that proximity that Julian's scent became vibrant. Every breath a new dimension. More herbs, smoke and smoky wood.

Layers upon layers.

Kinda like an onion, no?
 

Sor-Jan Xantha

Guest
S
The Ballroom
Wearing: Zhongshan Suit, Shimmersilk Cape, HoloLink
Interacting with: [member="Adrian Vandiir"]
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"Scion of a broken order and monarch of a cowed people, hmm?"

The teen's head turned as he heard the voice address him from behind.

So this was a Knight of the Sith.

Shoma was... unimpressed to say the least.

"Tell me, what brings you to this of all places?"

Pivoting to face this smug champion, the Atrisian youth adopted the characteristic, fake smile that had accompanied so much of his political career. "Merely an envoy of good will," the teen remarked, off-handedly. "Between the First Order and the Sith Empire, that is," he amended, with a casual nod of his head.

Pausing there a moment, the youth took a second in which to size up his proverbial opponent.

The man appeared human, or else very nearly so. Nearly two meters tall. Slight build. Not at all the brute that Shoma might have envisioned a Sith to be.

But then, that was part of the deception wasn't it? The Dark Side was never what you thought it would be.

"Knight... Vandiir, was it?" the youth asked, turning the conversation back toward the man who'd addressed him. "I can't say that I've heard that name before," Shoma mused candidly.

All right, so that was a slight jab. "Of what planet is Vandiir?"
 
Location: Courtyard, Blakeslee Falls Estate, Galidraan
Objective: Enjoy Primat’s company and guest-watching
Dress: Red and Black Gown
With: [member="Primat Ren"]

Varas could see how nervous Primat was. “How about this. We pretend we are just close friends, and then we’ll steal some kisses when no one is watching?” Before the day that they were all dragged into Sieger Ren’s throne room to be scolded for their failures, she would have been much less careful about a show of affection in public towards her fellow Ren. But after witnessing what had happened…

Varas was not in any hurry to relieve one of the most terrifying experiences of her life.

For the Emperor’s Ball, the Knight of Ren had gone back to the same Avalonian tailor who’d hand-crafted her gown for the Carbonite Contessa fete. She hoped there wasn’t a dress code that mandated sleeves because her dress revealed her pale shoulders and some of her midsection.

Once the pair were in the luxury speeder, Varas’s hand squeezed Primat’s upper thigh in solidarity. “And if a Sith approaches? We will just introduce ourselves and engage in small talk.”

After exiting they stood in The Courtyard, security far outnumbering the guests. She supposed this would be a prime spot for an assassination as so many important galaxy figures were getting ready to assemble.

Giving Primat a quick peck on the cheek because no one was paying attention to them, she asked him, “Which way? The Ballroom, the Gardens or straight into the castle?"
 
GALIDRAAN
BLAKESLEE FALLS ESTATE
THE GARDEN PATHS
Suppose that Lyn had the emotional-upperhand considering her wider array of them. Kole certainly possessed them, but he was far greater at concealing them than she. He managed to wear an expressionless face more often than not, and whilst it hadn't told anything it was something to acknowledge. Lyn, by now, might have come to understand the subtle variations in his expressions that typically blended all into one. That wasn't now, though. Now? Kole held a smile after an amused huff of air soared from his nostrils upon be grasped at the hand and lead forwards himself. She took those steps ahead, leaving him in the dust as he only seemed to take to a slow pace. Yet, with those heels she was surely going to fall over before they got to those drinks. Kole's fingers were intertwined with her own as he barely moved forwards; stubbornly maintaining his own pace, forcing her to either slow down or lose grip of him.

"Slow down." The Droid murmured in protest to her actions, shaking his head from left to right with the same grin ever present.

The Zeltron didn't exactly find herself in charge as much as Kole simply didn't mind. There were always all these things that she so desperately wanted to do, or so it seemed, and Kole hadn't truly anywhere to be. Maybe now, but they had time- more time than they needed. She could believe what she wanted, and he wasn't to be any wiser.

"I don't know." Kole replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "Have to see what's there."

[member="Lynnori Cruz"]
 
✿,~~~~~~~~~~'✿

The glitz. The glamour. All of the sparkly things and people. It was an opportunity that Alraune was relishing. Mother was always saying to get out and socialize more. The beautiful, voluptuous young woman was adorned in a rather revealing dress, which was fine by her. She did not mind the extra attention. However, going alone to a thing like this was lame. Especially in a big hall like this estate provided

"So, Mads. Whatcha think?" She flashed a grin to her date, "Pretty wizard, eh?"

She had found the other woman on the Cinder HoloApp. Where else would a young person in this galaxy find a date last minute. Possibly due to her flirtatious nature, the green girl had a lot of takers. However, most of them were the same ol' drivel of men who needed refreshers in their Aurebesh. Mads? That girl got her interest. Picking her up was kind of a pain, though.

"I apologize again about the battle droids. Didn't think the CIS was that touchy." She ran a hand through her crimson-dyed hair, chuckling sheepishly. "I reiterate, they shot at me first."

All joking aside, she could not wait to enjoy herself at this event. Maybe raise a little hell, too. Who knows? The First Order lackeys always needed to unclench their exhaust ports from time to time. While formal, this was a time let loose and let the fun times roll!

✿,~~~~~~~~~~'✿

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]​
 
Caz patted the top of her head again to make sure her hair was in place. She normally wore it loose but tonight it was in a deep magenta chignon that offset her black sheath dress. Formal dances were events that made her uneasy at times, being surrounded by a lot of unknown energies, but she prepared herself with the right crystals and oils to combat that. She stood in the doorway and scanned the crowd looking for her husband. He had come earlier than her, as she had been detained by work. She hadn't seen him in days and was anxious to spend time with him. She caught a glimpse of him and took a moment to appreciate how handsome he looked in his uniform. She watched as Adara looked up at him with stars in her eyes. He looked like a giant next to her, her hands only big enough to hold a few of his fingers.

For all of Kaine's warmongering and louder than life antics, when it came to the children, his heart softened. He loved them all as if they were his own (as many of their children were adopted), and never made anyone of them feel slighted because they didn't get his attention. His capability to love unconditionally was something she adored about him and always would.

Caz smiled and moved gracefully through the crowd until she was next to them.

"Good evening you two. Kain'ika I do believe you have the prettiest date in the room tonight, don't you think so?" Caz reached up and planted a kiss on her husband's cheek, and then bent down to kiss Adara on the forehead. "You look just lovely cyar'ika. What a beautiful dress. Are you having fun?"

[member="Kaine Australis"]
 
Madalena was still laughing her ass off at the incident with the droids. She hadn’t expected that, not in a million years. But Alraune had handled it like a pro, and if it weren’t for the very delicate dress that Madalena had chosen for herself, she would have grabbed a droid to ride on to get to Al’s ship, complete with a yee haw.

Some things turned out funny. When Madalena got the Cinder app, she hadn’t expected any real results. It had been two years since the butthole who’d broken her heart and her trust, and she hadn’t had the proper time to recover since that event was shortly followed by the death of her parents. But things were pretty good now. There were exactly two things that were missing in her life; her twin brother, who was adventuring somewhere in the Unknown Regions, and a person to come home to. So she’d downloaded the app, more than a lil’ skeptical, but Alraune had managed to catch her interest.

Especially when it came with an offer to this ball! Disney songs in a place filled with Sith? Sign her up. She’d had been willing to pay to get here, but her date for the night made sure she wouldn’t have to do that. And now she was going to get to know a whole new shiny person, sans the constraints to the CIS.

“Don’t worry, I’ll set the droids for extra fire power next time,” she said with a wink as her had slithered around Al’s waist and she offered a wink and a smile, “I’ll come riding a dragon wearing a golden bikini to save you.” She coughed, “I mean, the dragon will be wearing a golden bikini. I’ll be in my armor.”


[member="Alraune Vantai"]
 
If you thought for one second that I belonged ata fancy clothes party, you were probably not going to be relied upon for counting passed ten. Oddly that didn't make me less there or more confident in my own skill at calculations. You see, I was a thug, there's no point sugarcoating it. I did bad stuff sometimes. It came with the job and I wasn't always what you called savvy at making good employment choices. So, when some pretty face with an attitude picked me up and told me she was taking me to a party the only response I had come up with was "Yeah, sure".

I lumbered beside her. Mostly because she told me too, but partly because this was the closest thing to a date I was going to get with someone not Hutt shaped, and partly because I planned on sending her a bill for the time. Did that make me a male escort? Probably not, but it was going to go on my resume anyway.

She told me to stand up straight because it wasn't a whorehouse. Which was funny to me and I didn't bother trying to feel admonished, which was a word I heard some smart guy say and I figured it meant feel bad or fat or something else I didn't want to be. Anyway, I didn't feel that. But I did feel a response bubbling up in my brain housing group, which means head, in needlessly wordy language.

"I've never been to a whorehouse, but I'm pretty sure they don't stand much there anyway." I said.

It wasn't exactly true. I had worked the front door as security at a whorehouse once and I did go in to use the bathroom, but even with an employee discount I couldn't have been a client if I wanted too, besides the idea of 800 pounds of me accidentally squashing an innocent prostitute was a bit of a turn off. In my opinion, anyway, and since I didn't ask around about it my opinion was the only one I needed.

"Anyways, you look pretty and I don't feel like getting shot in the face by a pretty person in front of other," I was going to say pretty people but I also wasn't a full blown liar, "People. So, whatever."

I stood straighter and quietly prayed these fancy shoes didn't rip off my heavy karking feet before I could pawn them.

[member="Farah"]
 
When he'd told her about it, she had shrugged and agreed. She hadn't been particularly interested, but that could be said of almost everything. If it was something he wanted from her, she could do it. Just as with everything else, despite him sharing stories about how she had once enjoyed dancing, and with the reminder she remembered..... she only remembered the memories themselves. Not the feelings that went with them. According to her father, there had been a list a kilometer long of things that she had enjoyed, filled her time with. She had tried, she really had, to rediscover them as he had brought them to her attention. But everything had kept the even disinterest that had been a constant since her resurrection by [member="Darth Carnifex"].

And some of them had been, instead, troubling.

So she had focused on her duties. The acts and actions required of her as daughter of the A'lor of House Viszla. Without complaint because, at the very least, it was something to do. That it brought her no joy, well....

How was it different than anything else?

If someone had asked her, she wouldn't have said that she was sad or unhappy. She felt those things no more strongly than anything else. She was not unhappy. But nothing seemed to matter much for herself, so she focused, as best she could, on those things that mattered to others.

And then she had learned about [member="Irella Toldreyn"].

At her father's shoulder, dressed as the others in her armor, Tamara had removed her helmet when [member="Ronan Vizsla"] had. Tattooed face was stoic, as always. Nothing, it would seem, out of the ordinary. At least, for the new normal. But there was a certain relief when she put the helmet back on. In truth?

Tamara was furious.

Not that her father was seeing someone. That happened on occasion. Usually it was brief, shallow, and if she ever met them it was usually an accident. Ronan had never once attempted to introduce a new mother to his daughter, and she didn't begrudge him that sort of companionship (she just didn't want to see them smooch, plz dad). She wasn't angry at Irella. It wasn't her fault either. No, she didn't care that he had a date.

She cared that she was a Force User.

Denomination didn't matter much. But to look and see her father stand with.... in a romantic manner.... someone who wielded the same capacities she did... He had put a death mark on her, when she had left to avoid the Death Watch's 'Cure'. She had thought that she had forgiven him for that. She had come back, after all, to do her duty- to turn herself over for judgement or the Cure, even if it meant giving up a fundamental part of herself. For clan and family.

For her father.

She had, she thought, kept it to herself well. If Ronan sensed the burning fury in his daughter, he hadn't said anything about it. In a way, the deadness she'd felt inside had a use, because it made it that much easier to overlook her quiet wordlessness the entire trip here. He had asked her to give up the Force, and when he thought she had run, he had put a death mark on her for it. And now.....

Tamara was glad of the helmet as he put his hand on her shoulder. She didn't flinch.

"I'm here because you asked me to be." Came the reply. "I'll do my duty."

It was difficult to tell with the helmet on, but she didn't look at him. The anger was a flame in her chest. It hurt. Not merely the specific emotion but any emotion at all. It had been so long since she felt anything more than the most surface of feelings, the edges of her soul felt brittle and singed by it. She thought she kept the bitterness out of her voice.

Perhaps she didn't.

"I'm sure you have similar messages for Koda and Vilaz," she said, the helmet turning toward him then. Inside however, her eyes cast away.

Maybe she'd follow [member="Koda Fett"] around. She didn't really feel like talking, after all, and he was a good choice for that. He wouldn't ask, wouldn't pry. [member="Vilaz Munin"] was a bit more of a talker, but he'd be preferable to the company of her father and his date right now.

"Shouldn't keep her waiting," she added, before stepping away. "I'll see you inside."
 
Location| Courtyard, Blakeslee Falls Estate, Galidraan
Objective| Having a good Evening, hopefully
Equipment| Red and Black Suit
With| [member="Varas Ren"]
Status| Nervous yet joyful
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“How about this. We pretend we are just close friends, and then we’ll steal some kisses when no one is watching?”

"We pretend to be close friends...who are holding hands?" Primat said with a small laugh and warm smile, both directed towards Varas. He knew what she meant, and she knew what he meant. Ever since Sieger had brought them into the Throne Room, him, Varas, and Kyrel...it was much more difficult for them to show their feelings for one another, their affection. Now that Sieger had returned, 'free-time' was more of a luxury than a definite now when he had been gone. All it was now was mission, after mission, after mission now with little to sometimes no rest in between. Their were more rigorous training sessions now as well and generally, Sieger just held almost complete control of the Order of Ren now. Any backbiting, any defiance or insubordination like what Kyrel had done...would give them a haunting punishment. Primat at least wished the two of them, him and Varas, could should their affection for one another in public. But they had to be careful here, anyone from the First Order could be here and one slip-up...could have disastrous consequences for the young couple. Primat pressed his lips against those of Varas when the two had left the comfortable confines of the luxury speeder, kissing her for a few seemingly short yet long seconds. He didn't want to pull away, though they did have to be careful. "Like that," he asked curiously with a friendly and joking smirk etched onto his face.

Primat gave Varas a small nod in agreement to what she suggested they do if a Sith approached her. It wasn't that he hated the sith, though they did unnerve him greatly. He had heard tails of them committing genocide on millions of innocent people and of burning villages. Though how many of these rumors were true, he didn't know. But they were enough to make his stomach flutter with butterflies at the thought of meeting a sith or just talking with one.

"Well...we could go to the ballroom first, then the gardens, and then the castle. Well, actually why not start with the Gardens? What would you be up for or would you want to do that?" Primat asked with genuine curiosity. He wanted to be sure to do something Varas wanted to do instead of just dragging her around all night for what he thought would be best to do. "You decide on what we do."
 
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The Outer Rim, Galidraan, Blakeslee Falls Estate, The Courtyard, Unspecified Time
The Lady in Beskar | Interacting with [member="Ronan Vizsla"], [member="Koda Fett"], [member="Tamara Wren"], [member="Vilaz Munin"] (Others TBD) ~ Hushh ~ "Hush now darling, don't say a word."
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This, this was a terrible idea.

She'd thought it'd been a bad idea when Ronan had offered any of this to her period. When he'd said the words to bring her into his world, adopting her into his clan. Not his family, per se; his clan, his House. His pack. It felt a bit like a family though, didn't it? At any rate, the proposition had left her confused, a little soul-weary, but willing. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, their time in the Chasm had made Irella darkly interested in what else this Alor had up his sleeve. She just hadn't expected one of those things to be a ball populated by Sith.

This is another terrible, terrible idea, the near-Human mused as she observed their strange group in the armour not quite familiar to her yet getting there, slowly, surely. Irella Toldreyn had been lost in the fighting pits of Nar Shaddaa and Irella Vizsla had returned, as odd as that concept seemed. A Jedi truly gone; it was because there'd been something dark down there in the Chasm of Nar Shaddaa, and it hadn't been the Force.

It had been Ronan.

Despite her status as a newly-minted Mandalorian (That concept still confused her, but, if she asked anyone she suspected it would make for exceptionally awkward dinner conversation) she wisely decided to just stay quiet. Already the fact that she'd been invited as his plus-one was making her blood run cold; forgetting how he'd more than once threatened her on Nar Shaddaa wasn't going to be easy. Hard, not impossible, definitely not easy in the slightest.

No, they weren't dating. They were tolerating air. So they thought, anyway.

One fact that proceeded to further complicate things was the fact Ronan had a daughter. A daughter Irella hadn't had an inkling of even existing, and it was hard to ignore the gaze that the short blonde cast in Tamara's direction upon hearing her talk. The synesthetes had gotten used to the emotions Ronan's rough, barbaric tone invoked in her due to her condition-- that sweet anxiety of expected violence that seemed all too appropriate --but the tones of Ronan's daughter provoked a more sombre mood in the newest Vizsla. Of course, she'd suspected something, she'd suspected something about this girl was going to be a little sad. Tamara was a Force-User and she could feel her across the ethereal network but held back on relying on the Force too much as it was bad enough they'd be surrounded by the Sith and their dark machinations, so any further knowledge on that would have to come from speaking. And something gave her the feeling that Tamara really did not want to speak. Tragedy seemed to surround this family, and she'd signed her life away to be close to it.

Fantastic, right? Ah, yes, the Beskar'gam. Mando'a was a language she'd been passingly familiar with before, but now had to buckle down and actually understand. She was a fast learner, you had to be coming from the Smuggler's Moon, but she had to admit some of the wording was still a little confusing. As Ronan removed his helm she followed, lagging a bit behind Tamara in the process as she was forced to recall how the thing actually came off. Thankfully, no embarrassing fumbles tonight, the Force was with her as she revealed the relatively kindly features and pale hair & eyes that clashed un-necessarily with Ronan's aesthetics.

As Ronan moved to speak with his daughter Irella shifted her head to begin inspecting the estate, casually also going to look to Koda and Vilaz. Ronan's companions, who seemed so very like him. It was without any doubt that she didn't belong within ten feet of this group. What exactly were plus-ones meant to do here, anyways, beyond stand idly by?


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Evening Wear Attire
 
Anden Fancelo


Courtyard, Blakeslee Falls Estate, Galidraan.
Objective: Don't embarrass self.
With: An imaginary friend. (Nobody)
The journey to the estate took it's time well enough, as Fancelo was in the back of a transporting services speeder. He was slightly unsure, only being a lieutenant and yet, he'll be with such high figures. He sighed as he adjusted his coat a bit, closing it up a bit as he was shivering from the relentless air conditioning on the rear side of the speeder. Fate was on his side however, as the driver being a droid stated. "We've reached your destination!"

A sigh of relief was made as Fancelo disembarked once the door was opened. He wore a dark grey formal military suit, some devices on his chest that pointed to his merit and valor in the field. As well as a patch of the Sith Empire's military. Typical for an officer in the Sith Empire. Over it was a black coat that went down to his shins, for the cold. Still a little cold from the taxi, he kept it on.

He looked over at the estate building, astonished with it's architecture and decor. His expression, which was that of joy and excitement, was replaced with that of awe and epiphany. Realizing he was dropped off at the front of the Courtyard like everyone else. Where most, if not all participants of the Ball arrived in a fancy speeder or a carriage expressing wealth. Fancelo arrived in a bright yellow taxi speeder. He turned over to the droid, knocking on the glass. "Hey, I asked to be dropped off at the side, not here where I c-..." He sighed in defeat, the droid fulfilled it's purpose which was to take Fancelo to the Estate and the human male shook his head, handing over some credits. "Here, thank you." The droid received payment and went off when it was given the way.

He adjusted his clothing a bit and brushed his somewhat long hair back. Already off to a great start. He went over to the courtyard, presenting his invitation to one of the security personnel that were checking papers.

"Anden Fancelo. No date." He said with a blank face, the security guard nodded. Passing the invitation to some other security personnel to examine the legitimacy of it.

Eventually it checked out, and Fancelo was given the invitation back and was allowed to pass. He stumbled onto the center of the courtyard, glancing around and recognizing no one. He was hoping the new general Vestille would be around, or the sith he worked with at the boarding of the Acerbitas, Belphaegor. He then turned about, looking over at the garden from afar and decided to take a bit of a stroll there. Take in the atmosphere and adjust. Be at awe at the greenery.


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(How he looks, without the mask.)
 
Location: Ballroom
Interacting With: [member="Shoma Ike"]
Wearing: Custom Suit with Shimmersilk Half-Cloak.




From the moment he saw the youth's face, Adrian knew that he did not wish to be here. Not really. The smile was good, he had to give him that, but the young Knight had senses beyond the visual. Besides, it did not take the supernatural senses of a force user to realize that scant few Jedi would be able to enjoy themselves in an event dominated by Sith. Especially Sith with a reputation for conquering puny little worlds just like his, though any such campaigns would be highly unlikely so long as they stayed under the heel of the First Order.

Lips quirking upwards with amusement as he professed his, likely enforced, allegiance to the First Order, Adrian did not see fit to comment. He did, however, smile knowingly, almost mockingly. That was not to say that he blamed the boy, quite the contrary; he had never been one for war, and would likely have made the same choice in a heartbeat if their positions were reversed.

That smile only widened as the youth proved his aptitude in the game they all played, proved that he knew how to tease and prod ever so slightly without ever doing anything outright rude, let alone deserving of reprisal. "I'm sure you wouldn't; I'm from Corellia, but these days I rarely visit the Core aside from business deals and the acquisition of relics."

For a moment, he would gaze at the other as if in thought; he was, after all, short on Atrisian relics. Both Alderaan and Commenor, however, were almost suspiciously well represented.

Turning the conversation back upon the Atrisian, his tone remained as cheerful as ever. Almost oddly so. "I, however, have heard about you. The boy who was never meant to lead. How did it feel, when you stumbled upon power? Did you push it away, or did you thirst for more?" At that, he paused slightly, as if in anticipation of providing what might be a tender spot. "Did you wish for the power to keep that which you love safe?"
 

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