Populate The Optimates and The Populares | Tsis'Kaar and SO Populate of Eishandruu Pica

[Lord Dvasius]

Tux

Tags: Lady Falentra

Lord Dvasius felt uncomfortable as the hovercar approached the Tsis-Kaar New Year's dance below. He'd been "forced" to come along and "forced" to dress up for this fancy event he normally wouldn't bother going to, but it wasn't for him he was going. Lady Falentra wanted to go. She might as well have thrown the tux on him, then threw him in the car. She sat next to him dressed just as nice, if not better. this probably wouldn't be fun or wouldn't be on it's own, but with Fal around it'd be hard not to enjoy himself. To him she had an addictive presence and even if she didn't believe it he did care for her. Probably more than a Sith should. It could be so dangerous to love, in so many different ways, including literal. Other Lords and Ladies of the Sith would use it against you. Some would avoid it for that reason, but Dvasius didn't believe a Sith should fear anything, not for long.

So here he was, to make her happy. Not only that, but there was actual work to do. He needed to search for "Additional work associates" to "help on his missions". Working alone worked for many situations, but many jobs were too big, especially for an independent Sith who had plans. Plans that luckily he knew how to mentally hide from anyone who'd pry, but anyway he tried to avoid thinking about them, if not just to avoid slipping up. Tonight was gonna be fun, but also dangerous. Hopefully beneficial as well. Apparently Darth Malum of House Marr had some speech to share with all the Tsis-Kaar, or something like that, he'd heard.

Hopefully he wouldn't mind they were late. Not too late, anyway. Not really. The Sith Lord couldn't stop messing with his tie and collar. He felt itchy or was that his nerves at a situation around so many people he wasn't allowed to... Well do what he normally would as his job. He wasn't working though. Well kinda. It's a work event, even as a party. Dvasius looked back to Falentra as they touched ground. "Here we go.", he said, more to himself than her.
A servant let him out then he took Fal by the hand to let her out. The Assassin felt so out of place in this peaceful place. No one to "take out" here, except Lady Falentra , but not that kind of takeout. This may have been the first real date they'd been on yet. Definitely a nice place and right setting for it. He took her by the waist and walked them both inside.

He felt like a wild animal among the dignified, as if bright lights hurt him. He had come from a Sith family of reasonable standing, but event of his life had "laid his status low", but if anyone knew who his former master was they would give him the respect and credit it warranted him. The same master shared by Darth Malum of House Marr . So many people. Not just a Sith, but a soldier, he never felt comfortable in crowds so big he couldn't properly fight off it came to it. Not that it would, but the past trauma rarely produced logical or reasonable thoughts. Standing next to Fal near the entrance, his hand in hers, the Sith's eyes went to the bar and didn't leave. Likely wouldn't until she spoke to him and snapped him out of it. It was no secret the Sith Assassin was also a serious alcoholic. Life isn't easy, even for Dark Lords.

 

[Reicher Vax]

Dorvalla
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad, Cloak
Tag: OPEN

"A new dawn, in Reicher's love life?"
​

The warm glow of the room had dimmed, the flickering lights of the holotable now replaced by the faint hum of ventilation systems. Reicher leaned against the edge of a steel table, his posture relaxed but his focus entirely on Elara, who sat on its surface, her legs crossed and her blonde hair slightly disheveled. Her lips curved into a satisfied smile, and her sapphire-blue eyes held a mischievous glint as she traced the edge of his armor's chest plate with a lazy finger.

"You know," she began, her voice carrying that teasing lilt he had already come to expect, "I don't usually let anyone win, but for you, Reicher, I might make an exception."

Reicher raised an eyebrow, his arms crossed as he tilted his head in mock consideration. "Is that so? Because from where I'm standing, it looked like you were trying very hard to keep up."

She laughed, the sound light and melodic, though it carried a playful challenge. "Oh, you're insufferable," she quipped, nudging him lightly with her knee. "But fine. I'll admit defeat—this time. Though I have to say, you're dangerously good at taking control of a battlefield… and, apparently, a lot more."

Reicher smirked, stepping closer until the space between them was nearly nonexistent. His hand found her chin, tilting it up gently but firmly so her gaze locked with his. "You should lose more often, Lieutenant. It suits you."

Elara flushed, though her grin only widened. "Only for you, Commander," she replied, her tone half-mocking but with a hint of genuine submission that made his smirk deepen.

He released her chin, his touch lingering for just a moment before he stepped back slightly, his helmet sitting on the table beside them. He reached for it but stopped, turning his attention back to her with a sudden thought. "Viper," he said simply.

Elara blinked, tilting her head in confusion. "What?"

He crossed his arms again, the smirk on his face returning. "Viper. It suits you."

Her laugh was immediate and incredulous. "Viper? What kind of name is that?"

Reicher shrugged, his tone matter-of-fact. "Quick, cunning, and strikes when least expected. Seems fitting for someone who nearly outmaneuvered me."

Elara rolled her eyes, though the smile on her face betrayed her amusement. "I'm not a snake, Reicher."

"Not yet," he quipped, his voice low and teasing. "But you're warming up to it."

She sighed dramatically, throwing her hands up in mock exasperation. "Fine. Viper it is. But only because I like snakes."

Reicher chuckled softly, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer before his commlink buzzed faintly on the table. His smirk faded slightly as he glanced at the time, realization dawning on him. "Malum's speech is soon," he said, his voice firm and businesslike once more. "We need to get back."

Elara's face shifted into a playful pout. "Duty calls, huh? You're no fun, Reicher."

"Get moving, Viper," he ordered, his tone softened by the faintest hint of amusement. "We've wasted enough time already."

She slid off the table, reaching for his armor pieces scattered nearby. "If you're in such a rush, let me help, Commander." Her voice was teasing, but her hands were steady as she began securing his chest plate, her fingers brushing against him just enough to remind him of the moments they'd just shared.

"Efficient as always," Reicher muttered as she fastened the last strap and reached for his helmet. He allowed her to place it over his head, the visor flickering to life with a faint crimson glow.

"There," she said with a satisfied grin, stepping back to admire her work. "Ready to lead the Sith into another glorious battle."

He didn't respond immediately, instead reaching out to adjust her disheveled uniform collar. "And you're ready to outmaneuver anyone foolish enough to challenge you," he said, his voice low and steady. "Shall we?"

Elara laughed softly, falling into step beside him as they left the room and rejoined the main hall. The officers who had gathered earlier were now scattered among the guards and Sith lords, the air thick with anticipation as the countdown to Darth Malum's speech neared its end.

Reicher and Elara found their place near a cluster of guards, their presence drawing a few curious glances. One of the guards, a grizzled veteran, leaned in slightly, his voice low but not nearly low enough to avoid being overheard. "Took your time, didn't you, Lieutenant?"

Elara's grin was nothing short of wicked as she leaned back against Reicher, her head resting lightly against his shoulder. "Oh, we were just… strategizing," she replied, her tone dripping with innuendo. "You know, working on maneuvers and all that."

The guard snorted, shaking his head as the others exchanged amused looks. "Sure. Maneuvers," one muttered, earning a round of chuckles.

Reicher said nothing, though the faintest tilt of his head suggested he wasn't entirely displeased with the banter. Elara, emboldened by his silence, let her hand rest lightly on his arm as she glanced up at him. "What can I say?" she murmured, her voice just loud enough for the guards to hear. "He's got a commanding presence. Hard to resist."

The guards burst into laughter, their crude comments blending into the general noise of the hall as Reicher allowed himself the faintest of smirks beneath his helmet. Elara, ever the provocateur, leaned closer, her tone dropping to a whisper meant only for him.

"Besides," she added, her voice playful but sincere, "I think I like being your Viper."

Reicher glanced down at her, his crimson visor glowing faintly. "Good," he replied quietly, his tone carrying a weight that went beyond their banter, into something of pure passion. "Because you're not going anywhere, my Viper."

​

 

[Zanami]

Tags: Open

With weathering eyes, she watched the others begin to group up, collectively like mindless drones they took up position, but for what? Confusion began to settle, like dust-particle sediment cascading all around her psyche, driving her paranoid imagination into overdrive. What was happening, she thought internally. Had mother and father sent their agents to recollect her, to drive from her the last shred of sanity she hopelessly clung to? No, it was something else. Eyes, it was the eyes of those mortals, were not trained on her, but elsewhere; but where?

Tilting her head slightly to the left, Zanami tried to visualize herself in their place, following a line of sight to a male figure and his companion. Repositioning her head, the image of the man conjured up a memory; she had seen him before, somewhere she couldn't remember. Importantly, she never saw him with mother and father. If he recognized her from a rendezvous with her parents, surely, he would blow the whistle, and her escape from that nightmarish place that was home, with all the blinking lights and cumbersome noises, would be thwarted.

He didn't recall her.

She was safe, for now.

Fearful of mother and father's potential appearance for whatever this was, a verbal consummation of sorts perhaps between the two who now assembled all attention, Zanami blended into the crowd, her teenage body slinking between much older frames, until she reached a satisfactory stance. From there, she locked her eyes on the couple, listening intently to the speech. Many names whistled from the male's lips, names not familiar to the young assassin, but names with power by the mannerism in which they were presented.

 

[Lady Falentra]

Days ago, Lord Dvasius did not care about such events, but Falentra had cut him off as soon as his he began his rant about how frivolous and silly it was. "I don't care if you're going or not. I am. Anyways, make sure to wear something nice, if you do." She had told her colleague with a nonchalant shrug the last time he was over at hers. Falentra didn't care much if she was without a date, she needed a break from working tirelessly and the stressors of what was to come and was going to enjoy herself there. But surprisingly, despite the assassin's strong deterrence for public appearances, he had made his mind to go a while after that.

He had fetched her from her appartment in a fanciful red and black suit complimenting her own dress and heels. It was different seeing him in anything that wasn't his usual black assassin robes. "Huh, I didn't expect you knew how to tie a tie, Lord Dvasius ." She took a jab at him with a coy smirk on her pretty lips before getting into the hovercar to their destination.

The hovercar ride was silent for most part, the two lovers rarely had casual conversations that weren't about their plans - it just wasn't a relationship like that. Falentra watched from the window as the tops of skyscraper passed below them. When they arrived, Dvasius got out first before helping her out. "Remember, we're not here for blood." She whispered against his ear as she stepped out of the vehicle. Then she would hook her arm around his, "Shall we?" She asked before they made their way into the event.

This would be the first time the two inquisitors would be seen out in the public together. While she was a familiar face within the tsis'kaar as apprentice of Darth Malum of House Marr for the previous years and only recently knighted taking her place as an inquisitor, she didn't quite know how well known Dvasius was given his inclination to lurk in the shadows. Even she had no idea who he was when they first met at the Qenoira Tower - quite the chaotic encounter it was. She had hated him then, that he'd beat her and then stuck an explosive within her neck to force her to work with him towards his treacherous goals of subterfuge. Oh, how much they had grown since.

While her companion's eyes wandered to the bar, hers scanned for candidates for their cause. Her cyan eyes fell on a blonde woman Alina Tremiru she'd seen in the tsis'kaar inquisitor files. "What about her? The tsis'kaar has an eye on her. Harbours the Wonosans - followers of the traitor Darth Strosius - under her roof. Suprised no one has gone knocking yet. "

 

[The Lord of Hunger]

The Lord of Hunger winced when his own name had been announced; the Darth name he had so carefully burried under his 'Lord of Hunger' - moniker, the fact they called him Lord of House Nargath with so many present... he had tried to avoid too many from mentioning that affiliation as well, but right here, deep within the Sith Order's territory...it should not do too much damage to his plans, after all...as long as those who took up the mantle of his House did not get a whiff of his plans, there shouldn't be too much of an issue from that end either.

Still, for the announcer to make such a mistake...if it was indeed a mistake and not some tactic by the one pulling the strings in this event...it was at the very least rather annoying to be confronted with two names and titles he had hoped to downplay for such a long time now.

Looking around the gathering, there were quite a few who managed to be interesting enough for the Lord of Hunger to remember. He could see Darth Callidus the up and coming Ruler of Denab, Darth Imperius whose ambition was well known to even the Lord of Hunger, and a few others who the man simply had little information on or had yet to meet properly.

However, there was also Pom Stych Tivé , the Witch Mother who had been quite an influence in his...younger years, and lastly there was Darth Malum of House Marr himself, who appeared once again like some sort of elegant shadow, burdened by the unseen duties that came with their might and power. The Abomination could feel the power of all those who were present, their vibrant lifeforces, their deep connections to the living force, if he were a lesser man or perhaps naught more than a ravenous beast like those who before him had taken on the title of 'Lord of Hunger', Credius would've drained the entire cavernous system of all its life and its connection to the Force, but for now...he managed to remain in control of his maddening appetite.

"High Inquisitors, Grand Executor," The Lord of Hunger calmly weaved through the crowd, a tempered aura of chills and dread in his wake, until he reached the group of high ranking individuals he called out to, with Callidus, Imperius and quite a few other important members of either the Tsis'Kaar and the Sith Order itself had gathered. The Monster's eyes turned towards Akhuul Sautra for a moment, his head tilting a bit to the side as he nodded in affirmation of the being's presence. "Quite a gathering... which makes me wonder, if any besides Lord Imperius are aware of what happened in another time when such a large gathering of Sith had happened at the behest of another...heh."

TAG: Darth Malum of House Marr | Darth Imperius | Darth Callidus | Akhuul Sautra

 

[Lodd Grimmin]

​

Lodd was starting to recognize that everyone was separating into their own cliques and fiefdoms as small bits of conversation could be heard. The Neimoidian found himself isolated and devoid of any companionship which could be considered unusual as he had access to the Galactic Alliance, the largest superpower in the galaxy.

This could be seen as an indication of the Federation's power and influence which likely overshadowed many of the Sith present within the halls of the Tsis'kaar. Despite his inclination to entertain such a fantasy, he recognized that the more plausible explanation was their perception of him as particularly distasteful and untrustworthy.

His gaze swept across the stage as Darth Malum of House Marr approached the podium, ready to deliver a speech that threatened to be utterly tedious yet would expand the operational framework of the Sith Empire moving forward, a matter of critical importance to the Federation's interests.

The Trade Monarch moved very swiftly through the crowds, making his way toward Reicher Vax , who was accompanied by a female companion near the stage.

Trailing closely behind were the Neimoidian Royal Guards, who maintained a vigilant pace to prevent any potential disturbances. In a display of respect, he did a slight bow toward both individuals, though the sincerity of this gesture remained ambiguous.

"Pardon the intrusion, but I don't think you'd mind some additional company of reputable intent. " Lodd said with a soft smile.

 

[Reicher Vax]

Dorvalla
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad, Cloak
Tag: Lodd Grimmin

"A new dawn, in Reicher's love life?"
​

Reicher turned slightly as the Neimoidian approached, his crimson visor locking onto the figure of Lodd Grimmin as he maneuvered through the crowd with an air of practiced dignity. The Trade Monarch's Royal Guards moved with precision, keeping the path clear, but the sight of such a prominent figure among the Sith Order's gathering struck Reicher as curious. How was it that someone with access to the Galactic Alliance's immense reach and influence wandered the room largely ignored?

Reicher inclined his head respectfully, the faint glow of his visor casting long shadows on his features. "Trade Monarch Grimmin," he greeted, his voice steady and welcoming. "Your presence here is a rare honor. I would have thought you'd be swarmed by the more… ambitious of the Sith, considering your standing."

He gestured subtly to the side, creating an open space for Lodd to join them. "Please, join us. Reputable company is always welcome."

Before Reicher could continue, Elara interjected, her tone light and dripping with playful sarcasm. "Reputable company? Careful, Reicher, you're going to make me jealous," she teased, her blonde hair catching the dim lighting as she leaned slightly closer to his armored frame. Her hand rested casually on his forearm, a deliberate gesture that made her intent all too clear. "But I suppose I can make room for a man of such... resources."

Reicher shot her a brief sidelong glance, though the faintest hint of a smirk played beneath his helmet. "Behave, Viper," he said, his tone even but tinged with amusement.

She pouted theatrically but stepped back slightly, letting the two men converse. "Oh, don't mind me, Monarch Grimmin," she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'm just here to look pretty and support my Commander. It's what I'm good at."

Reicher allowed himself a low chuckle before refocusing on Lodd. "Forgive her," he said, though there was no true reproach in his voice. "She's enthusiastic, to say the least."

His tone shifted slightly, becoming more serious as he gestured toward the hall's exit, indicating they might speak away from the immediate crowd. "I've been hoping for the chance to speak with someone of your caliber, Trade Monarch. My efforts on Polis Massa are progressing well, but expansion requires more than manpower—it requires funding, resources, and logistical support. Your Federation's reach in such matters is… unparalleled."

He paused, his gaze momentarily flicking across the room where other Sith lords huddled in their cliques, oblivious to the potential power standing before them. "It's strange to me that no one else here is engaging you. For all their ambition, the Sith often forget the value of practicality. They waste their time vying for petty titles and fleeting alliances when they could be building something lasting." His voice carried a faint edge, his disdain for the inefficiencies of the Order evident. "But that's precisely why I'd like to speak with you, Trade Monarch. A man of vision recognizes the value of creating something enduring."

As he spoke, Elara's hand slid from his arm to rest lightly on his back, her voice low and conspiratorial. "Enduring, indeed," she murmured, her lips quirking into a smirk. "Careful, Monarch Grimmin. Reicher's got a way of pulling people into his grand schemes. Not that I mind—there's something undeniably attractive about a man with a plan."

Reicher exhaled softly, shaking his head in mock exasperation. "Viper," he warned, though his tone was more resigned than stern.

She grinned unabashedly. "What? I'm just helping you make a good impression."

Turning back to Lodd, Reicher's tone returned to its steady cadence. "As you can see, Trade Monarch, my ambitions come with… colorful support." He gestured slightly toward the exit again, his crimson visor glinting faintly. "Shall we discuss this in greater detail? I believe we can find common ground that lines both our pockets with more credits."

​

 

[Lord Dvasius]

Days ago, Lord Dvasius did not care about such events, but Falentra had cut him off as soon as his he began his rant about how frivolous and silly it was. "I don't care if you're going or not. I am. Anyways, make sure to wear something nice, if you do." She had told her colleague with a nonchalant shrug the last time he was over at hers. Falentra didn't care much if she was without a date, she needed a break from working tirelessly and the stressors of what was to come and was going to enjoy herself there. But surprisingly, despite the assassin's strong deterrence for public appearances, he had made his mind to go a while after that.

She was really putting him up against a wall, but at least he had some things to gain in going. He would at least not be thee by himself 'cause she'd be there and they could find recruits for "their cause". The Sith Lord sighed. "Fine! I'll go.", he griped, but caved in, "Guess I'll have to go home and put on my fancy robes.", he said jokingly, as he picked up his actual outer robe off the back of the couch and prepared to leave., "Better than sitting here and watching the holo... I hope, and I can 'make some friends' while we're there. You should help me with that. You know I'm not much of a people person... sober."

The assassin really shouldn't let her talk to him like that, but she was so damn cute and sweet most of the time. Dvasius wasn't gonna leave her without
saying goodbye. "You know, you're lucky I like you so much." After saying this the Sith walked over and gave Lady Falentra one of those sweet kisses she liked, then touched her on the chin with his finger then across her cheek. That always made her melt. It would be fun to see her squirm before he left and it might make her happier to see him when he got back. "Anyway. Bye!" he said nonchalantly as he turned around and left. He said one last thing before he went out out the door, "Uh. Just let me know when you're ready and if I'm ready I'll come pick you up. Okay. Bye for reals."

He had fetched her from her apartment in a fanciful red and black suit complimenting her own dress and heels. It was different seeing him in anything that wasn't his usual black assassin robes. "Huh, I didn't expect you knew how to tie a tie, Lord Dvasius ." She took a jab at him with a coy smirk on her pretty lips before getting into the hovercar to their destination.

Dvasius got out and walked to her door then knocked. He was stunned by her outfit, her heels more than anything. He accidentally let out a, "Damn.", without meaning to. The Sith Lord sighed and rolled his eyes at her little quip. she always had to get them in. "I guess I'll just say what we're both supposed to, 'Wow! You look stunning, Falentra!', Alright, let's go. No, you do look good though. Very beautiful, as always." More politely he took her hand and walked her to the hovercar and opened the door for her before getting in on the other side. "Alright, Jeeves." he wasn't even sure that was the chauffer's name or care, "Move it!" Seeing as the Sith's anger was well known among those who worked for him, the driver quickly took off and they were on their way to "socialize with their peers". Ugh. At least there'd be drinks to help make it easier and bearable. Dvasius gave Falentra a cute little smile, like saying, "See? I told you I could do this."


Back at the time of arrival:

"Remember, we're not here for blood." She whispered against his ear as she stepped out of the vehicle. Then she would hook her arm around his, "Shall we?" She asked before they made their way into the event.

"Yes, I know. We're here for our little date, to get drunk, and perhaps steal us some friends from my 'older brother'." ... "We shall."

While her companion's eyes wandered to the bar, hers scanned for candidates for their cause. Her cyan eyes fell on a blonde woman Alina Tremiru she'd seen in the Tsis'Kaar inquisitor files. "What about her? The Tsis'kaar has an eye on her. Harbours the Wonosans - followers of the traitor Darth Strosius - under her roof. Suprised no one has gone knocking yet. "

"Mhm. I've been meaning to introduce myself to those friends of my late friend. Could use them for my own little 'church of evil'. If she has them, she'll be our friend too. Hopefully.", Lord Dvasius agreed. He made his way behind her, to her right side and grabbed that hand in his left. He turned to talk in her ear, "So, I know what you're going to say, but we're going to the bar. Hear me out. We get a drunk, a little tipsy. Makes it look less strange when go talk to these seemingly random people, and makes it easier for me to do it. Come on." There were other ways to do this of course, but it made enough sense and it was the best way for him to do this, at least. The Lord of Shadows took his date in hand over to the mini bar and commenced his part of the plan. Hopefully this would be convincing and they wouldn't know he had a trick to of the Force to instantly sober up, so he wouldn't actually kark it up.

After a few drinks The Sith pushed himself off the counter, "Alright. Let's do this.", He was pretty tipsy, but Dvasius wasn't as drunk as he seemed and could handle it pretty well if he was anyways. Lots of past experience. Whether Lady Falentra followed or not, he made his way to where Alina Tremiru was standing. "Hey! What's your name? Tre-something... Ali-na! Got it. Who's the kid?" ( Adean Castor ) The Lord faked drunken idiocy and gave his hand to shake then he passed a card to her hand or dropped it on the table next to her, as if an accident he didn't realize happened. Suddenly he became serious and sober very fast, coming in for a whispered conversation, "Go where that says, when it says, if you seek a change from this once great, little 'Inquisitorius'. Come thirsty. Hungry. For blood and power. I know you can keep a secret. Do me that favor.", with that cryptic invitation the Sith Assassin sniffled and turned from her, sipping heavy again on the rather strong drink he had in his hand. "See you around, Alina Tremiru . Let's hope."

The "drunken" Sith karked off to find another drink. Inside he was laughing at the believability of his performance. Perfect.

 

[Trayze Tesar]

CURRENT MISSION - Of Caves and Conversations
Immediate Goals -
1: Stand there
1.1: Look Pretty
1.1.2: Stand there while looking pretty.
2: Have some lighthearted conversations with your estranged cousin, Darth Malum of House Marr
2.1: Have some difficult conversation with your soon-to-be even more estranged cousin, Darth Malum of House Marr
3: Try not to get turned into a newt by a Nightsister for misplaced chivalry (optional)
3.1: Investigate the red Twi'lek... (optional)

BLUFOR - Darth Malum of House Marr et. al.

OPFOR - Enemy Unknown

TARGETING ACTION(S) - Pom Stych Tivé || OPEN FREQUENCY

---

Standing around wasn't going to help anyone, especially his nerves, and so in order to not be seen as a literal wallflower, Trayze made his way to the buffet table. While temporarily in his thoughts, wondering and worrying as per usual over his family - he discovered an unusual sight, a short, alabaster skinned Dathomiri girl going quickly from excitable over the prospect of "potion ingredients" (something Trayze couldn't help but subdue a snort at. An adorable, and tangentially accurate comparison between cooking and alchemy - and if you're under Mama Dolly's roof - a bit of both) before stating angrily how it was all "a damn waste", before looking rather queasy.

On one hand, Nightsisters, any male that didn't offer themselves as a footstool may be considered less than considerate - perhaps his inquiries would be seen as a questioning of her "womanly strength". On the other hand, if a Nightsister had food poisoning, she would no doubt exact her revenge in the long term - and besides, it was better to plead for forgiveness than ask for permission.

With this in mind, Trayze approached the alabaster woman and asked. "Excuse me? Yer... Ladyship-Queen Matriarch?" the Kiffar added the title as quickly as he could have recalled it. These sorts of bigwigs tend to enjoy being noticed, as well as having their full government name, rank, and serial number recited for the commoner's awe. "Are you... quite well?"

 

[Mariah of House Marr]

[Open]

Tags:
Zari Daal Trayze Tesar

"Well," he continued in Twi'leki, "You are…very…." He pressed his hand into her back and then dipped her upper half, so that she was suddenly looking at the party upside down.

She chuckled at his initial confusion, "So much." she added before finding the world quickly upside down glancing at the spectacle of the party from the new angle, before returning right side up and began their new flourish about the floor.

As she came back in to his arms from the last twirl she thought she saw something wrong about him, or, felt it maybe. Her empathic powers still needed some work, especially when she was distracted by the activity of dancing. It had been awhile afterall, however she at least kept herself from anything more than a slight tilt of the head in Zari's direction.

She gripped his hands, but returned to the twi'leki language, "Something wrong, Zari?" she prompted quietly, hiding the questions curiosity behind a flourish of the dress's cloth and a flick of her head to toss her hair aside.

Spoiler: equipment

dress
ITEMS:
mariahs-necklace (worn)
WEAPONS:
Initiation (lightsaber)

 

[Zari Daal]

Zari sighed and gave her a smile. "Ahh…eet iz only the sting of love's bite…" he said vaguely. However, it was then that Lord Malum took the stage and began to speak.

Zari dropped his voice and held Lady Mariah's waist close in his hand as he escorted her away from the dance area.

"But, let us see here - Lord Malum is going to speak!" he whispered to her in Twi’leki urgently. His lekku dipped in subservience as he guided her with a hand on her back.

Mariah of House Marr

 

[Nerralyn Raaf]

Interacting: Lucette Madelyn Lowe

She was interrupted by her musings about home and about to start her game when her niece say down across from you, with all the manners of a Hutt underboss about to make a deal. Her eyebrows shot up as she sat the plastic container and the treasure contained within it...

"How in the world did you get past my mother and the cooks?" she asked, before shaking her head, "Nevermind, it's not really that important." She considered her niece's words, bristling slightly at calling her favorite card game a mundane game, but she suppressed that. The brownies were taunting her after all, and out of her nieces and nephews, Lucy was the only one that hadn't gotten into the game. With the new set about to come out soon, it was a good time to learn she supposed. Her attention was mostly upon her niece, although she was noting that more Sith and affiliates had arrived at this unique venue.

"You drive a hard bargain," she replied, hand reaching for the container and the prize within in agreement to the proposal before the click of heels pulled her attention elsewhere. A blonde woman was walking up to their table, one that she partially recognized on sight and then definitely knew when she offered her name. She had been a legendary politician within the First Order and the Sith Empire a few decades ago, and she certainly didn't look it. More of either her mother or godfather's sorcery no doubt.

"Lady Lowe, my mothers always spoke highly of you," she remarked, her game and the brownies forgotten. "Nerralyn Raaf, and this is my niece Lucette Fortan-Raaf. It's a pleasure to see you out and about in such circumstances, even if the event is still... forming for the evening."

Eventually, the lights would dim until only one remained on the stage and the host of this party decided to take the limelight. The theatrics were, she felt, unnecessary, but then this was supposed to be the reveal of what direction the youngest Dark Councilor was planning to take those within his influence and his plans within the Empire.

"I am curious what our host's speech might be," she added, gesturing for Madelyn to take one of the unoccupied seats at the table, conveniently next to her niece. "Please join us for the speech at least and we can chat."

 

[Lucette]

Whatever clever response Lucette might've had for her aunt Nerralyn Raaf disappeared quite quickly.

Lucette froze mid-reach for one of the brownies, her hand hovering above the container as the tall, striking figure of Madelyn Lowe approached their table. Her mind scrambled to catch up, recognition dawning in waves as she realized who was standing before them. Madelyn Lowe. The Madelyn Lowe—a hero of the First Order she'd read about in history lessons, studied in great detail, and even written an essay about just last semester. The woman was practically larger than life in Lucette's imagination, and now here she was, smiling down at them with the kind of grace and poise that only made Lucy feel even more unprepared for this encounter.

Her aunt's composed response grounded her somewhat, though Lucy was still struggling to contain the sheer giddiness bubbling up inside. She quickly straightened her posture, tucking her hands into her lap to avoid fidgeting. Stars, she didn't want to make a fool of herself. This was a First Order legend, not someone she could just babble at.

"Um—" she began, her voice betraying her nervous energy with its slightly higher pitch. She swallowed hard, trying again. "It's such an honor to meet you, Lady Lowe," she managed, her words tumbling out in a rush. "I—I've read so much about you! Your tenure as governor, your speeches, fighting the bloody scalebacks, everything about your career—it's all so inspiring. And your work during the Great Galactic War? Absolutely brilliant. I can't believe I'm actually meeting you."

Lucette's cheeks flushed as she realized how fast she was speaking, and she quickly stopped herself, shooting a sheepish glance at her aunt, who was smirking behind her own calm façade.

"I mean," she continued, attempting to compose herself, "thank you for, uh, coming to sit with us. I hope we're not keeping you from someone more important." The words escaped her mouth before she could stop them, and she winced internally. Smooth, Lucy. Very smooth.

Still, her excitement was palpable, and she couldn't help but sit up a little straighter, practically beaming as her gaze flicked between Madelyn and her aunt. Nerralyn's polite demeanor hadn't faltered for a moment, but Lucy could feel her aunt's amusement radiating through the Force.

As her aunt gestured for Madelyn to sit, Lucy quickly shuffled her things—mainly the container of brownies—to make room, her hands moving nervously as she spoke again. "I brought brownies," she blurted out, as though this were a critical piece of information. "They're, uh, really good. You're welcome to have one, if you like." Her eyes widened slightly, realizing she'd just offered dessert to a galactic icon. "Only if you want, of course! No pressure!"

Ancients, just let the ground swallow me whole, she thought, her cheeks practically glowing now. But despite her nerves, her eyes sparkled with genuine admiration, and the corners of her mouth curved into an involuntary smile as she waited for Madelyn's response.

Madelyn Lowe ​

 

[Alina Tremiru]

"No idea, if I'm honest. Though, I suppose it makes my unbeating heart warm that he did at least care about Alisteri." For better or worse, actions brought consequences. Alina's own had brought her to an untimely demise at the hands of Darth Strosius . With her memory returned she couldn't even hate him for it. He'd won the fight she forced onto him. Just as Malum did. Consequences and actions, as ever.

Loyalty made sense, of course. Prove herself, and the Tsis'kar would be more open on their goals with the acolyte. She likely wouldn't have any information Alina could make use of for years, and by then there was little chance Alina would be able to pry that information out. Little chance. That wasn't a no.

"I remember my academy days. I hated them. Always being judged by others, always being hated or looked down on. I'm absolutely using you for information, as you seemed to have gathered, but it doesn't mean I won't listen to you vent if you want to. I'm not heartless, even if I technically am."

She paused only for a moment to watch the seemingly drunken Sith walk up. She raised a brow, accepted the card, and simply gave a nod of her head before the man walked off. Then, she shrugged to Adean. She wasn't sure what that was about either, but she wasn't going to make it a problem to look at here at Lord Malum's party.

Adean Castor

 

[Adean Castor]

TAG: Alina Tremiru

"I suppose I should take that care as reassuring, then. Better than someone completely callous."

Hate wasn't quite the word Adean would attribute to her academy days. In the beginning, terror and survival ruled everything as she tried to engrain herself into the academy's populace. Every lesson, formal or otherwise, was a desperate bid to play catch-up while surrounded by the empire's supposed best. Now, however, fear was not so all-encompassing. Her cover as Brassius at least seemed to be solid enough on Jutrand, complicated mostly by maintaining a different identity at the Korriban academy. The pace she had to operate at to maintain covers was grueling but almost rewarding at this point.

Almost

"You'll forgive me if I'm not inclined to spill my thoughts and/or grievances. The academy is pretty clear about their take on weakness and everyone seems quite convinced they have eyes everywhere." The latter was something Adean sincerely doubted, giving her penchant for remaining unnotable. Still, it was a better worded excuse than 'I don't know you and my whole existence is built on lies currently'.

Interrupted by the apparently drunk Lord Dvasius , Adean's posture straightened under another's scrutiny, even if inebriated. "Call me Brassius," she offered, choosing in the moment to not mention the second half of the stolen name. She didn't need a drunk's attention to be piqued by the name of Zambrano.

Except, perhaps drunk wasn't the right word. Adean's gaze zeroed in on the sobered moment of whispers (?) with a perception to be expected from one practiced liar to another. "What was that?" She asked Alina, voice lowering as she watched the Sith take his attentions elsewhere.

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: OPEN //:
//: Dress //:

In and out. In and Out. Quinn repeated the mantra in her head. She had always arrived at parties like this with an escort for her entire life. Today was a different story. While she wanted to continue her trajectory of being more independent, this felt horrible. Quinn took a deep breath and tried to tell herself that this situation was okay, and no one would notice. The Princess had been used to how the royal courts worked; if she showed up without an escort, her name would have been dragged, and she would have been called…

Ugly.

The thought devastated the young Princess, and she stopped herself from entering the building. Hands gripping the fabric of her dress, hiking it up so she could sprint her little feet down the stairs and back to the car to go home. "Nope, Nope, NOPE," Quinn grumbled under her breath as she made her way to the bottom of the walkway. She stood there, and upon getting ready to hail her speeder, Quinn heard the echoes of her name being announced. "Noo!" She groaned, turning around towards the entrance of the event.

Quinn had to make an appearance. There was no going back because it would have been worse if she didn't show up. Slowly, she made her way back up the stairs; each step felt heavier and duracrete heels. Finally making her way to the top, Quinn exhaled and paused at the doorway. Instead of dealing with her existential crisis, she caught her breath. A handkerchief patted dry the sweat that dewed on her brow. Quinn gathered her courage as she entered the event and allowed the aura of being a royal to carry her through potentially the most embarrassing part.

There were so many people, faces that she had met and others she had only seen in passing. Maybe she could get away with having no escort; potentially, she could meet new people. Quinn huffed to psyche herself up; this was the era of Quinn Varanin, independent Princess of Confidence. She repeated the title, trying to manifest the confidence she needed. Once she felt better about herself, she began to mingle. She weaved and twirled around the attendees. Many recognized her, and she could carry on a few conversations and the question of who she was here.

Everything was going well, and Quinn grabbed a glass of champagne and sipped it. Turning, she felt the familiar tug of the Force, and as she looked up, her eyes caught Alina Tremiru and the acolyte ( Adean Castor ) she had been dragging around. Quinn held her breath as she watched the woman for just a moment. Curiosity took her as she watched the blonde woman for just a moment. Quinn turned away as she chugged the glass of champagne and reached out for another. Chugging that glass quickly, she dropped the new empty glass on a new waiter. Finally, she grabbed a third glass but kept it in her hand as she mentally kicked herself. Maybe she should have invited someone, or maybe she should have just stayed home. Sighing, she looked at the bubbles popping in the yellowing liquid. There was no option to stay home; Quinn had promised Malum that she would come and support his endeavors.

"Why must I be such a good person?" Quinn sighed dramatically and took another sip of her glass, waiting for the big speech the Dark Councillor was supposed to make.

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

​

Pomstychtivé turned her gaze toward a fresh face, Trayze Tesar , who had fixated upon her and asked if she is alright. She nodded, quite contradictory to the truth. There was so much happening right here on the table, the fumes from mixed medicines permeate the air. She knew her herbs, flesh, and bacteria even underwater. BLECH! But she held fast to the table edge and maintained her equilibrium as she continued to look them over.

"Do you know where this medicinal flower comes from?" she inquired of the Acolyte in return, while pointing to a specific flower among the bouquet in the center vase. "Originally from the highest rooftop in the capital city on Coruscant. Throughout the year, during each season it was guarded by monks from 4 rival crackpot religions," she added matter of factly. "Men were slaughtered for our host to acquire it," which is a good thing; however, "only with its roots still intact, which they aren't, may it be ground and included into a draft that will cure mania. It is clumped together with none other than an invasive weed which grows in seventeen systems, notorious for causing one a topical rash." She wonders if the youth of today even care for Potions and Tinctures, or if everyone relies on corporate produced Bacta and clean generic Spice.

"What is your area of study?” she asked, finally turning her back to the table.
​

 

[Trayze Tesar]

CURRENT MISSION - Of Caves and Conversations
Immediate Goals -
1: Have some lighthearted conversations with your estranged cousin, Darth Malum of House Marr
1.1: Have some difficult conversation with your soon-to-be even more estranged cousin, Darth Malum of House Marr
2: Try not to get turned into a newt by a Nightsister for misplaced chivalry (SUCCESS!)
2: Chin-wag with the Queen of Witches (apparently)
2.1: Investigate the red Twi'lek... (optional)

BLUFOR - Darth Malum of House Marr et. al.

OPFOR - Enemy Unknown

TARGETING ACTION(S) - Pom Stych Tivé || OPEN FREQUENCY

---

The Kiffar nodded, slowly, not entirely believing or disbelieving her tale in regards to the floriographic intent of the decorations - nor the Witch-Queen's revelation of said flower's purpose. If what she said was true, and Trayze had no reason to disbelief, other than his background in criminal investigation requiring a healthy degree of skepticism, then this flower was wonderful indeed. A bit of skin-rash, to cure mania, a worthy trade - or perhaps, a subtextual message? Trayze couldn't be certain.

Honesty would have to remain the policy, within reason - he didn't feel like giving the Matriarch his literal name should she ask for it.
"My areas of study are... woefully secular and pragmatic." he admitted, in the spirit of cautious honesty. "By birth I am a herdsman, by schooling a lawman, by trade a corporate backed bounty hunter, and by happenstance, a Sith." He turned and dared to face her head-on, a furrowed brow before concluding "Currently, the object of my study is Your Ladyship."

While a pick-up line in any other time and place, there were two indications that told the Dathomiri that it wasn't the case. Firstly, the general gaze of Trayze's mind's eye trying to do what his Psychometry could do in a mere touch - but it was clear that he feared causing a faux pas. The Force that the Kiffar before her used was clumsily direct and forward, like stabbing in the dark with a scalpel, and did not linger long.

Secondly, there were so many emotions, subdued as they were, that bubbled beneath the professional visage. Familial longing and... regret to their host, Darth Malum of House Marr , confusion and caution around a red Twi'lek, and indeed, caution around many of his peers.

Overall, she would sense a genuine desire to help tempered by the experience of things in the Sith seldom being as they appear... and how it chafed against his very being.

 

[Kaila Irons]

Wearing: Dress | Circlet | Amulet
Tag: Quinn Varanin | TBA

Anathemous knew she shouldn't be here. Anathemous should not even be alive right now after the coup on Echnos which Malum, the harlot, was no doubt celebrating despite what a disaster it had been. Though she supposed at the very least perhaps he would catch more flak for doing so than herself, he had a way of making himself the center of attention after all.

Gods. She wondered just how many of her exes were crawling through these tunnels.

Who hosts a party in a mine anyway?! But alas the work needed to be done. Dorvalla was too close to Echnos for it's governor not to be here. She needed to know everything happening in and around her home, and so she'd have to put up with it awhile longer.

At least the air here was slightly less stale than the recycled chit inside the airlocks back home.

Anathemous gave her amulet a little adjustment as she emerged inside the main cavern, hoping that she would not need it but most certainly prepared to use it if things once again went not according to plan, however she came to an abrupt stop as one of new arrivals was announced just before her.

Quinn Varanin, Princess of Eshan.

And suddenly, it was as if this absurd party was salvaged by the winged goddess herself.

The governor of Echnos ignored whatever announcement was being made of her presence, an announcement which she knew would unfortunately draw attention due to her recent holo-news appearance. In fact she was spitefully content to ignore everything around her that didn't point her in the direction of a certain princess.

Curiously, it was in the act of tracking down a waiter that they crossed paths, Anathemous stopping in her tracks upon spotting a familiar head of ashen hair a few tables over, wearing a beautiful dress of gold and black which contrasted well with the echani's monochrome features.

Anathemous was quick to approach once she realized she'd been staring, the folds of her own dress flowing behind her with each step, it's asymmetrical split appearing momentarily as more of a waist cape in a very Dathomiri shade of red as caught up with her new favorite royal.

"Princess," she smiled warmly.

"I haven't missed all the fun then, hm?"

​

 

[Akhuul Sautra]

Tags: Darth Callidus Darth Imperius Ellissanthia The Lord of Hunger
Location: Dorvalla
Objective: Find Enjoyment and Entertainment
Equipment: In Bio

Those I found myself with seemed like characters to occupy my interests for this event. Abandoning flesh has its advantages of not needing to sleep, eat, drink, or breath. Yet, it also meant that events like this became incredibly boring. What good was food if you had no mouth or stomach to feast with? Likewise for drink. What good was fine aromas worn on the attendees if I no longer had a nose and a set of lungs? Boredom brought me out of hiding, yet a sneaking tendril of fear crept into my digitized mind for how life among these mortals would be even more dull.

At least these two, now three, figures appeared to create some interest. The original two appeared very acclimated to the structure of the present day Sith. The third had the bright eyes of an apprentice. Much trust was given to this young one to bring her here. The larger one was calculated to be her Master. I noted this as intriguing. The other, the smaller and more spiteful one, seemed very astute. She recognized me as the new archivist for this organization. She introduced herself as Darth Callidus. This moniker of Darth has continuously intrigued me. This certainly was introduced later in Sith history, yet my archive seems to fail in showing me when exactly it began its usage. The best conjecture I had was it was merely a modernization of the ancient tongue.

However, Callidus was clever in listening to whatever gossip has spread of me. Perhaps becoming an instructor at the Korriban Academy does make one more known that initially predicted. A "higher purpose" being the suspected reason made my vocabulator emulate a cold chuckle hearing that. "I have taken up calling myself Darth Cryptis as a way to blend with you younger Sith. Such a name is easier for many to remember, I have found." With that slight pleasantry out of the way, "I am intrigued about the higher purpose this gossip suggests, or have they yet to decide?" One could see that question as a taunt. It all depended on how much pride dwelled within the life form.

The second mortal introduced himself. Yet, as this Darth Imperius did so, and my ocular receivers had a chance to better analyze this other conversational partner, the vestiges of my soul flared slightly with sensation. Perhaps this one was not as young as initially calculated? I noted that as a matter of intrigue within the databanks that served as an improved hippocampus. As this came, a brief flare from the glow in my chassis would be all that would suggest something afoot. Yet, before I could retort with any questions or prods, he would turn to Darth Callidus with a dry remark about some cult. Perhaps this was in reference to the imitation of a Kaggath I witnessed not so long ago?

"I serve myself as any proper Sith ultimately does, Darth Imperius.", I would reply to his question. "Whose archivest are you?" Almost an insult of a question. He was lucky pride was mostly wrung from my jaded mind eons ago. "All my occupation did was give our youthful host motivation to introduce this sect of this latest iteration of a Sith society." As I was about to make a return of a prodding question, a fourth form approached. My calculations positioned him as rather aged considering slight posture stances and the nature of his voice. He appeared to have a morose humor of a previous event akin to this. Probability appeared to be that of likely mass murder being involved. However, with thousands of years of Sith history being a host to countless of such events, recent times all seem to blend with the old with remembering. For certain, this event took place shortly before my emergence though, considering the whispers in the academy's halls. I merely would cock my head up and to the side slightly to show interest in this new character's story.

All this common talk still grated my circuits and made me need to restrain my spirit. Such a language was for the slaves in the days of the glorious Empires of old. I merely prayed for the ancestors' sake these younger specimens who claim heritage of my people knew of the old tongue. Time would have to tell, much to my frustration.