Faction The Especially Fancy Spacer Guild BALL

[Jerec Asyr]

For reasons passing understanding (and also, probably, blackmail), the Dowager Queen of Kymotheri invited the Spacer Guild to a formal ball in her floating palace. This could not possibly end well, Jerec knew, but the invites were sent and the day was at hand. Now dozens of spacers of every description were converging on the fancified affair in their best duds.

Some intended to find respectable business connections and well-connected allies from all across the Rim.

Others aimed for the personal touch - someone shiny to bribe, marry, screw over or just plain screw.

Others probably planned to steal everything that isn't bolted down.

And others, no doubt, would strip the platters clean of hors d'oeuvres and pink shampanne.

Jerec was unsure which category(ies) apply to him, but those hors d'oeuvres looked better than ration packs, and he sure liked a good ration pack. He straightened his hyperdrive-coolant-stained cummerbund and got to work.


Aaran Tafo Aeshi Tillian Alkor Centaris Allyson Locke Amea Virou Ar'tal Ktruok Tris Ay Ge Beskadala Chance Bonaventure Chybo Fenn Ciara Ardellian Cotan Sar'andor Cuan Kunn Cyran Vaas Dash Kessler Davin Skirata Dax Perl Deagan Hunt Delila Castillon Ezekiel Graenge Frielle Kinniak Furch Lund Galen Arterius Gilamar Skirata Jacen Rann Jegy Sesara Jira Shav'al Jorco Czeku Julius Sedaire Juniper Jett Kaia Starchaser Kaleleon Kara Moonlighter Katria Vekarr Kelsie Sylvan Kenth Haruss Kingsley Kiriko Kole Eckttor Kyra Quez Len Vert Liam Sedaire Maynard Treicolt Miri O'Hare Reave NE-1 Nova Casamyr Okkeus Dainlei Orson Jade Pyrrah Tae Ria Misrani Apollo Kurze Subject 73 Red Sylvia Virtos @Taric Syn Umedara Zaar Volod Bast Vouvry Wynter Rackham Xin Boa Yula Perl Zak Amroth Zef Halo Zivos

 

[Vetru]

V E T R U​

The zabrak infobroker wasn't dressed up to the nines so he could steal from the floating palace. He was here because he had information to sell and a very, very fast ship. Word was out that the Guild was picking up some choice jobs shifting products.

Moving goods and information quickly whilst staying just a hair's breath ahead of the law was what Vetru did. Not always successfully, but it was always exciting and he kept on flying.

Although he wasn't going to cause trouble or run off with the silverware, the wealthy always had interesting secrets. He would steal those given half a chance.

The secrets of the rich and powerful were always worth something to someone.

 

[Delila Castillon]

Familiar with this type of 'scene', Delila found it easy to blend right in. An ex-husband who had political aspirations, a stint for the Royal House of Alderaan as a security consultant, had honed the skills needed for meeting-and-greeting with a certain level of society. It helped to look the part too, trading worn spacer clothes for something with a bit more slink and cleavage.

Glass of wine in hand, Dells was making her way around the room eating any hors doeuvers stuffed with cheese she could find.It wasn't all eating free food though, no. Second was checking out the amount of men in ridiculously tight pants running around the ball. So far she spotted an impeccably dressed Zabrak and an Ithorian with a surprising amount of junk in the trunk? Who knew.

Third was gleaning information and inserting herself into small conversation groups when needed. Dells doubted she'd land some type of job in a place like this but one never could be too certain.

 

[Chance Bonaventure]

Queen's Floating Palace
Main Area
​

The extravagant garb, the rich and wealthy, the classical music and the expensive beverages and finger food. It had been an age since Chance Bonaventure had had the chance to indulge in such a spectacle. The floating palace was a wonder to behold, so ornate and classy in design and decor, that the scoundrel couldn't help but appreciate every part of it. The invitation for representatives from the Spacer Guild to attend had been received some months prior, and Chance had immediately reserved his spot and gone out to procure the appropriate attire for the affair. Nothing but the best would do, especially if he planned to woo some rich folk and gain some contacts in royal society.

"Being here," Chance said to himself, as he entered through the main ball entryway with a flourish of capes - yes, plural - and a large grin on his face. "This is going to feel better than an Idiot's Array in Sabacc..."

The entrepreneur and part-time smuggler was dressed in some of the finest silks from across the galaxy. His fine yellow shirt, adorned with intricate phrikweave inlay; his perfectly tailored silk pants, with patterned Socorron granite-hawk motifs across and up the legs in gold trim; his new gorra-slug leather boots, shined to sheer polished beauty; and of course Chance's capes, of which he wore two, that had been designed with the local Queen's planet and palace in mind, were adorned by an ornate weave of patterns of the planets sunset and the palace itself.

"Oh yes, please," Chance said to a server who passed by with a tray of tall, expensive drinks balanced on it. The scoundrel took one with a flick of his wrist and a fancy swirl of the liquid as he brought it to his lips and took a sip. "Lovely, an excellent Daruvvian champagne. Refreshing, bubbly, with a hint of spice... not too dissimilar to myself."

Ahead, a number of guests in expensive dresses and suits were speaking among themselves. It was a literal treasure trove of potential. So, with another sip of the champagne, Chance stood straight, cleared his throat and put on his biggest and brightest smile. He promptly walked toward what appeared to be a Countess of some region, as he raised his hand toward her and got her attention with a billowing of capes:

"You are a vision, my dear Countess, allow me to introduce myself..."

_________________________________________________________________________________________

Jerec Asyr | Vetru | Delila Castillon​

 

[Zivos]

Simply enjoying the atmosphere of the room...in his enviro-suit, was the Ubese male. Dressed casually rather than nicely. It was easier to keep track of leaks in a skin tight suit than one that could catch and snag on things, and the people here wanted everyone to dress accordingly. Which was why the jacket and leather pants combo was the set he had nearly forgotten about in the back of his dresser. They might not have seen the light of day for some time, either that or he had been eating to damned much as he took a breath.

No, the tailor had done that on purpose. He quietly realized, feeling comfortable with a breath but not with the seam of his pants. Their was a thought spared to the awkward shifting move he did to settle that seam just a hair lower, or at least from pinning to one side as he stepped away from the food line, spying nothing worth using the food port for.

He did settle on a not so bubbly drink as he produced a straw to drink through and stepped out of the limelight at the table.

Jerec Asyr Vetru Delila Castillon Chance Bonaventure

 

[Jerec Asyr]

Jerec tore his eyes away from Chance Bonaventure's multiplicity of capes and Zivos' surreptitious attempts at pants adjustment-

-and blushed deep green as he realized Delila Castillon had been examining his butt.

Now, Castillon had a reputation, the kind of rep that grew the more she tried to put it behind her. In this way, and this way only, her reputation was much like Jerec's. If Jerec remembered right, she'd flown with the notorious Vagrant Fleet. And Castillon had been a Rebel Alliance commander once upon a time. The Rebellion and the Vagrants: two sets of folks who might not start fights, but by Typhojem's left nut they finished them.

So Jerec banished all thoughts of returning the compliment. Besides, she was human or close enough: those deep-set eyes tended to give him the creeps in a romantical context.

"You understand, right?" he said after explaining some portion of the above to Vetru the Zabrak apropos of nothing. He gesticulated wildly with a precarious little plate of hors d'oeuvres.

 

[Vetru]

It paid dividends to understand as many languages as possible. Nothing stopped a smooth trade like pausing to get out a translator or asking a protocol droid with no understanding of nuance to get in the middle. Vetru understood ithorian, it simply took him a few moments to process what the rant was about.

"Oh, right," he went, trying not to cast a glance at the redhead too obviously.

"If I ever get a complement on my ass from a human it's normally followed by inappropriate comments or strange questions about my horns.

"Once was with rebels?" he muttered quietly. "You think she'd want to be put in touch with gun runners?" he asked, not knowing Dells had put soldiering behind herself.

 

[Delila Castillon]

Ah, the Ithorian blushed.

A small victory.

Popping in another hor devours, something with puff pastries and warm cheese, the redhead immediately started to look for her next victim. There was a man in capes and capes tended to cover the backside. An unfortunate shame for herself and any others doing a little bit of backside watching at the ball. Yet to make up for this transgression there was a masked man with overly tight pants, who knew what the seamstress was thinking, who looked extremely uncomfortable if his body language was an indicator.

Probably can't even sit down without breaking a seam.

 

[Jerec Asyr]

Vetru Delila Castillon

"Man, do I feel that," Jerec said morosely, warble-glurping away in Ithorian. "It's not often I dig a humanoid lady - it's those sunken eyes - but all I get is questions about..."

He drifted off. Not all of those weird questions had been bad, come to think of it. Not remotely.

"Hem. Uh. Yes, I'd go for that. Go sell the nice red-haired human some guns, or introduce her to someone who sells guns. She looks like someone who likes them."