The Hapes Consortium Masquerade Ball

[Ozmeri Gitana'ti]

From under the veil of the mask, Ozmeri would let her peripheral catch the movement of forms. Oh not of the revelers, this was different.

How interesting...

She would shine a grateful smile as slender digits would enclose over the stem of her fluke. Cool air would kiss bare skin as the Hapan night would welcome them into her bosom. It was a night made for secrets and mystery, and the masque would only enhance it. So when [member="Caid Centurion"] would remove that which held the token of mystique at bay, it was all that 'Lady Gray' could do but give the appearance of shocked intrigue.

He would take a step towards her, a man with a face carved of powerful lines and angles. Dark as she was fair. Aquamarine eyes would lock with his, and she bequeath him a shy smile.

"Does a woman ever, Caid?" she would reply in turn with a coquettish look in her eyes from behind that mask. "We all have our roles to play..." she would say delicately, a finger tracing up and down the stem of her champagne fluke. "Even here. Mask or no."

"After all... those in a position of privilege have certain obligations." Her glass would rise to her lips, and she would take a slow sip, eyes still locked upon the male.

"Obligations to stay the course regardless of come what may."

 

[Caid Centurion]

Caid conceded to [member="Ozmeri Gitana'ti"]'s point with a subtle inclination of his head. "The roles we play remain regardless of what mask we may put on for the galaxy, yes." To the latter point of her retort, the Admiral was not precisely sure how much he agreed. There were so many shades of gray in a galaxy that so many attempted to view in black and white.

Given his proximity to the Jedi Order as of late, he could say with purpose their Code and Vision was not one he completely shared. For Caid, the end always justified the means. It seemed the Jedi were content to level concern more with their own internal thought and action than whether or not they were an effective force on the galaxy. That was why this war had started so poorly...they were forever flat-footed. The one truly aggressive action taken was immediately against the homeworld of their principal enemy. Foolish against a foe that had just collected untold amounts of steam and cohesion through definitive victory.

So...now Caid's 'course' was to, in conjunction with several others, attempt to lead the Republic out of a pedigree of failure. It fell to them to be some type of beacon of hope for a better future amongst all Republic worlds. There were times he often wondered if they had the resolve to accomplish those objectives. He was not so naive as to think that a good attitude and effort was always enough.

After taking another long sip of his drink, the Admiral smiled warmly at his guest...though it seemed somehow less genuine. "The course of any with an obligation to something, be it duty or a group of people, is fraught with deadly twists, turns, and the unexpected. Staying said course, I think, is much less the restriction than to simply reach the destination. There will always be the grumbling and chafing of pre-conceived notions with action that departs from established norms, but life is simply not that simple. Sacrifices quite frequently had to be made to achieve success and secure the lifestyle that people so selfishly demand of those they plant in the driver's seat of their lives."

A final sip drained the contents of Caid's glass before he placed it back on top of the marble railing. Exhaling heavily, he flashed a brief smirk in Lady Gray's direction. "Pardon my brooding. The reconciliation of my responsibility with the preferred method of acquisition weighs on my mind from time to time." Standing up just a bit taller, Caid quickly dismissed the weakness of hesitation and being unsure. They were subtleties he could, perhaps, afford in front of the woman that did not know him, but such emotions conflicted with the nature of his being. "Doesn't matter. I do what is necessary." Regardless of the consequences.

Chip off the old block.

 

[Ozmeri Gitana'ti]

"Do not mistake staying the course for anything that is less than doing what is necessary to ensure the objective is met, Caid." Lady Gray would say with a lift of her chin. It was clear the young woman had a passionate streak within her. A fervor. But for what exactly?

One lone finger would start to lightly run across the rim of her champagne glass, a idle motion or a calculated thought? Hard to say. A slight breeze would drift the crisp winter air, stirring the dark raven tresses of the woman about her shoulders. Thick curls that would dance in the breeze but for a moment.

"Sacrifices that must be made... So the ends justifies the means?" a brow would arch under the dark mask she wore, her aquamarine eyes giving a shift of a glow under the moonlight of the seven silver orbs in the heavens.

"Then what end do you seek?" her face would cant to the right, studying [member="Caid Centurion"] chiseled dark features, the fullness of his lips, and the intriguing shifting of his silver green eyes.

 

[Caid Centurion]

Caid permitted himself a slight chuckle. "Your viewpoint on staying the course sounds like quite the personal one. I think you'd find those affected by the ever-changing tide of whims disagreeing with the declaration that 'staying the course' means doing what is necessart to achieve the objective." While Caid certainly adopted that view, it was not, let's say, a popular one in most democratic societies. That fact gave the Admiral a sliver of insight into the background Lady Gray was accustomed to. He gave it little further attention, however.

Her second comment, however, he perceived to be spot on. "Yes. Sarcrifices will always have to be made. These sacrifices vary from being burdened by those in power and those without." As he spoke, Caid's attention remained firmly planeted on [member="Ozmeri Gitana'ti"]. Every shift of her weight, gentle heave of her chest, and rotation of her aquamarine eyes registered with the Admiral. To a smaller degree, it was as if he could feel and hear the very beating of her heart within his ears.

Unless, of course, it was the quickening of his own as desire attempted to wrestle control of his mental facilities.

"I seek success. I seek an end that flourishes in brilliance instead of wallowing in the pits of loathing and doubt." He sought, quite literally, control.

 

[Ozmeri Gitana'ti]

The masked brunette would give a whimsical smile at [member="Caid Centurion"]. A soft roll of her shoulder would come next, another sip of the bubbly champagne rising to slip through her lips. From under hooded lids lined in the faintest shadow of kohl, she would give a faint smirk.

"What one calls personal may just be passion, Caid." she would say with a subtle twist of her lips, as if therein lay a hint of humor. Under her mask an ebon brow would arch, a shadow of knowing that left as soon as it came. " And what is a woman without passion?"

"Or perhaps it is merely stubbornness." A soft chuckle would follow. It would wane, only due to the slight incline of her head in introspection. "Mmm. Time shall tell, I suppose."

She would push back from the railing, walking a small half circle around Caid. She would watch him through the corner of her eye, her free hand lightly shifting her skirts out of the way. In the distance, the clock would reveal that midnight would be upon them soon. But not quite yet.

Finally she came to a slight stop, turning her black and silver gilded masked face to him. "They say that the only way to predict the future is to have power to shape the future."

The corner of her pale pink lips would perk.

"What say you of that?"

 

[Caid Centurion]

An amused expression framed Caid's features at [member="Ozmeri Gitana'ti"]'s inquiry regarding woman and passion. Unfortunately, he could only speak on the woman of his homeworld and the many...paid women from his life as a pirate. They all had passion...passion for their own supremacy and credits, respectively. However, if he'd learned one truth this evening, it was that Lady Gray was nothing like the women he'd known in his past. In fact, something inside of him told him that she...would be quite the enigma passed this evening. It was almost disheartening - knowing the one modicum of interest he'd ever maintained for a female was for a relative stranger whom's face he had never even seen.

"I say..." Caid inhaled deeply, steeling himself against his own thoughts that bubbled near the surface of his consciousness. "...that power is life's most fantastic illusion." Folding his arms over his chest, Caid gazed down at Lady Gray. "Take you for instance. A coalescence of beauty and intelligence mixed with the air of some element of nobility. Despite your title...I cannot tell if said nobility is real or perceived. As we discussed earlier, we all maintain our respective masks. Is your power an illusion...or is the real illusion the source of your power, real or perceived?"

In short, Caid never had designs on having the power to shape anyone's future. Until...quite recently, but he couldn't very well launch into the technicalities of that discussion. He would shape the future only because it was the best alternative to wallowing in an existence created and mutated by the misperceptions of others.

 

[Ozmeri Gitana'ti]

"Real. Perceived," there would come a throaty chuckle as the lady in gray would take but of few steps closer. There was a saunter about her stride, an amusement whose origins could only be imagined in the glint of pale aquamarine eyes. She would hold her fluke of champagne in mock toast.

"Does it matter? If the objective of that power is accomplished?" the short heels of her shoes would give a slight clipping sound as she would continue her small walk, the train of her dress trailing after her like a slate colored tail. Ozmeri would present him her delicate profile, staring up to the seven moons high in the sky.

Words would tumble from her lips. A poem recited by memory.

"Here too it’s masquerade, I find:
As everywhere, the dance of mind.
I grasped a lovely masked procession,
And caught things from a horror show…
I’d gladly settle for a false impression,
If it would last a little longer, though..."

That dark head would swivel to lock her gaze upon [member="Caid Centurion"]. Therein came a dazzling smile. "Illusion or no, the desire to believe and live in that illusion often supersedes the desire for reality."

Her glass would rise to her lips, but just before she'd take a sip she would say, "Even if it is the only way to prevent oneself from going mad."

 

[Caid Centurion]

Caid for real almost missed the entire front half of [member="Ozmeri Gitana'ti"]'s monologue as he watched the subtle grace in her movements. For whatever reason, he seemed to drawn to ever twitch of her muscles and the seemingly constant shift to the gleam in her eyes. She was...an intoxicating entity, but his own excitement was really drawn out by a curious overriding sense of danger.

As she drew near, the large Dathomir native could feel the underlying current of her power, real or perceived, caressing the internal mechanisms of his very soul. His silver-green eyes did not move from their target, object of their present desire. As the poem she was reciting ended, Caid found himself identifying with the whimsical lines.

In the end, it was the smile that brought him from his near trance-like state to something more...subtly aggressive, focused, and confident. Three traits that very much made up the basis of his personality...a personality shaped out of simple genetics as well as upbringing. Instinct was what he relied upon at this moment, curiously aware of swirling sensations around him. It was as if he could taste the very essence of life on his tongue. His vision did not fade, but it...refocused, seeing the connection of various things around him.

As he raised his right hand slowly towards Lady Gray's cheek, the fabric of her clothing unwittingly rustled from a completely involuntary use of the Force. Unknown to Caid, his literal presence was reaching out for that of the woman across from him, probing, begging for a response. Though Caid's skin never touched that of Ozmeri's, he could feel everything about her on the surface. When his presence did brush fully against her own, that sense of danger which had been so alluring before quickly became...defensive, intensely powerful. Though Caid's own presence would be felt as the warmth of benevolence with the chilling edges of reality and ruthlessness.

To bad Caid was processing none of this, simply allowing himself to feel and attributing it to some awkward level of fascination. How would he know? Despite strong intuition, he was truthfully...rather inexperienced in interacting with females on anything beyond a superficial level. This would have to be rectified because eventually...the dream would end.

"Everyone wishes to live their dreams."

 

[Ozmeri Gitana'ti]

If Ozmeri was shaken by the boldness of his caress, she certainly didn't show it. One would wonder if the mask she wore made her bolder in her anonymity. Then again, at this distance, what woman wouldn't enjoy being the focus of a man such as [member="Caid Centurion"]? Tall and hard-bodied, with skin the color of dark mahogany stretched over a striking face. The combined effect of a chisled jaw, wide mouth, slanted cheekbones, and the reflection of viridian eyes would be enough to give weak knees. Oh there was no denying that Caid would stir the interest of any red blooded woman.

Perhaps maybe even the one standing before him.

The corner of her mouth would perk, the sensation of blunt fingers skimming over the softness of her cheek a seemingly wicked guilty pleasure. One that she would coquettishly step back from with a soft chide, "Which is why we make our future now, and one's dreams tomorrow's reality."

She would take the final drought of her champagne, the slender column of her throat a pale reflection against the square frame of her bodice. Coy and often times as skittish as a colt. An oxymoron of traits. One moment she would have the boldness of a siren, yet another be as demure as a maid.

"Time and place."

A motion would be made to the ever ticking clock.

"Come midnight, Caid -- responsibilities await."

 

[Meeristali Peradun]

"That's just what I was thinking," he said, suddenly nonchalant, and he tipped his head in her direction once more, "though you might need morrre olives than three... and perrrhaps yourrr olives might need a bowl, or therrre'll be no rrroom for the liquorrr. "

Those considerations out of the way, his tail dropped free of her dress skirt and he lead her on his arm to the nearest place where libations could be procured. He captured the attention of the 'tender, and proceeded to make his request.

"One dry martini with..." he glanced sidelong at [member="Avalore Eden"], "...three olives..." he turned his orange orbs back to the bartender, "...and a Corellian whiskey, neat, please."

The asking done, the man went to prepare the required drinks, at which point he turned his attention back to Avalore. Yes, he could behave... for a little while. At least as long as she could manage.