We Like Balls [Galactic Alliance Fund-Raiser Gala]

[Asmus Janes]

[member="Allyson Locke"] [member="Kaili Talith"]

Asmus left the explanation to Allyson. Not for the obvious bantha in the room, because he didn't really know what was appropriate to talk about. The contrast between this party and the bar they'd met at couldn't be more different. A smuggler's dive in a shadow port full of shady characters, against the elite of the whole sector at a fund raiser. It brought questions to Asmus' mind on who Locke really was.

The scoundrel wasn't prone to blushing, but Allyson managed to bring a hint of colour to his cheeks as he looked at his plate intently. It didn't last long, he looked back up from behind dark lashes, the look of mischief back in full.

"If Kaili is honest, she might tell stories. And those stories might come in handy in the officer's mess if you join the Rogues," he explained carefully.

 

[Marcus Lok]

The dance floor was certainly becoming crowded and Marcus was all too aware that it would soon drift to all corners of the main ballroom. Figures from all corners of the room had given up their idle chatter and were now taken to the floor by choice or by their partners to move with the rhythmic tones of the bass, in fact it was not unlike the first time he had met Sylvia. This scene was undoubtedly composed of much more prominent and established patrons, but it was growing to be just about as active. The figure clad in reflective clothing, much resembling one of the maintenance men that he had seen at the pad... Perhaps he had found his own way in?

Whatever the case might have been, he was only the slightest bit glad that the man was being so obnoxious. It seemed that in his state, he bumped into Sylvia, and had the circumstances been a bit different and the security a bit less he might have well stood to challenge him. But any violent thoughts in his mind were quickly curved when the Alliance ace scooted closer to him. He couldn't quite place the scent she was wearing, but whatever it was it certainly had an effect.

The very thought of staying among such inconsiderate company was stomped out when the volume of the music intensified and soon it was just like the Angel's Den. Why did every dance seem to turn into a battle of decibels between the crowd and the DJ? Before he could even suggest to escape to a quieter refuge, Marcus nodded to her plan. The night was certainly turning out to be quite similar to their first encounter, though perhaps with a bet less booze.

He took her hand, and parted his way between a couple of particularly friendly patrons who took turns pouring shots down the other's throat that glowed a heinous red as it went down. Another house special perhaps? All around them were the constantly moving forms of dancers and their partners as a slower dance mix reared its head through the depths of the speakers. Soon, reaching the edge of the crowd, a rather expansive hall dotted with party vagrants stretched beyond them.

"What would you suppose is down this way?.. Damn this place is big..."

[member="Sylvia Nuru"]

 

[Armand Temi]

When Marcus took the pilot's hand a little spark of electricity traveled up her spine, as though she'd never touched him before, and this was the first skin to skin contact they'd had. Smiling she walked with him as they weaved around the crowd, looking for an exit? An entrance? Somewhere different to go. Somewhere with even more adventure and promise than a crowded dance floor.

Because as Marcus observed in his head, both of them fared better in a quieter place.

"I don't know," she responded, now taking the lead to see what kind of room the corridor lead to. "I've never been here before." They were in a Jedi Master's mansion after all - who knew what secrets it held?

Both of them stopped at a door with a complex-looking keycode and security protocol. Sylvia played around with it, even putting her finger up to the electric panel, wondering if it read fingerprints or retinas.

With a challenging grin, she looked up at Marcus who was a bit taller and said, "Think you can crack the code?" Fueled by alcohol and the promise of being alone, exploring a mansion with her - what were they again? Friends? She would call them friends for now until some better description came along - the Red Devil made an appearance daring the competent slicer to see if he could get them through the tightly secured door.

[member="Marcus Lok"]

 

[Marcus Lok]

Marcus smiled as she began to fiddle with the electronic display that held the door firmly shut. At their discovery of the door, the slicer would have been lying if he had said that his curiosity wasn't provoked. In the middle of a Jedi's Mansion, what could be under lock and key? From what he knew about their order, it would likely be something dull and unimportant, as was so characteristic of nearly every aspect of their daily lives besides when they were thrust into war.

The mechanism appeared to be reminiscent to most standard security panels, though it was clear it had been adorned to hide the fact. A sleek metal frame surrounded the main response screen, and it was bordered with some sort of glowing plastic. Whoever this Jedi was, he certainly had a taste in detail.

During her efforts to provoke some sort of response from the machine, Marcus took the time to look around the hallway and found that it was surprisingly bare. Where some might have hung photographs or artwork, there was simply blank space left on the wall...

Probably not finished...

His thoughts were cut off as Sylvia extended her curiosity back upon him. He heard the dare, and he would have been on the panel like a hound had he not first considered the ramifications of attempting to break into the private space of a Master Jedi... Something about it seemed a bit... Well, stupid. Of course he had done many stupid things, but most had a fairly good reason backing their execution. Breaking into the quarters of a Jedi Master held very little prospect beyond the idea of tripping an alarm and being banned from Alliance space for a good long time.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?.."




[member="Sylvia Nuru"]

 

[Kaili Talith]

It wasn’t exactly like the ‘Zone of Honesty’ was far off. Kaili’s low tolerance mixed with an inability to regulate her intake was already sending her on a trip down Regret Avenue with an estimated arrival being the following morning. Her lips touched against the glass as she sipped her as of now watered down drink. The room was blurry, her balance off.

“Rogue Shkwadron is good.” She pumped her fist and spilled a small part of her drink. “Good pilots, killing macheens.”

Yeah, she was already there.

“In an ideal werld they would not exist.” Deep sigh parted her lips. “The world ish far from perfect tho.”

[member="Allyson Locke"] // [member="Asmus Janes"]

 

[Armand Temi]

Conflicted, Sylvia wasn’t sure to keep egging Marcus on or not. The celestial being he’d encountered at the Angel’s Den, the ever-present “good girl” wanted to tell him that, “No, this is a horrible idea. We could be trespassing and could end up in hot water." The pilot could be suspended, and by the Core, who knew what would happen to Marcus. Unlike the First Order, the Alliance didn’t liberally punish criminals and agents by execution, but he could be put in jail or even exiled from Alliance space.

Then again the Red Devil sitting on the other shoulder really wanted to see the rest of the mansion without a sanctioned tour guide.
“I don’t know,” she said, biting her shapely, bottom lip. Her forehead wrinkled in consternation, not sure if they should continue.

Perhaps he thought she was silly for wanting to scamper around the mansion like a couple of pesky lava rats. Still, she thought of the looming operation on Coruscant, how this night could be the last time the two of them saw each other for a while. How unfortunate that will be, thought Sylvia. She'd be suiting up, heading out with her little red Astromech droid, Cardinal, going on bombing runs to take out the interplanetary defenses. Would Marcus be there too? What if he was on the other side? She had been an ally of the Sith once herself. It wasn't that far fetched to think.

“Yes, do it,” Sylvia finally said, the spark of mischief returning to her green eyes. Rogue Fifteen was determined to have an adventure tonight, with Marcus on her arm. All he had to do was hack through the security, and they’d be off to explore the candlelit mystery of the manor house.

[member="Marcus Lok"]

 

[LT-137]

Though my senses were numbed by the drink and good company, I felt my arm tingle underneath her electric touch. It was incredibly warm, and for a fleeting moment, I had thought it would ignite a fire that would engulf my entire being. Not that hasn't happened before, but this wouldn't be something ethereal that would sear my mind with the memory of pain. No, this - this would be something entirely different. It would be as if the fires of passion gripped my heart, and flushed my flesh with a boiling concoction of vigorous blood. I... I enjoyed the sensation her tender, caring caress had brought and the animal beating within my breast slowly begun to crave more. He was a capricious being, acting askew from my mind's desires, forcing me to act out of instinct rather than through rational thought.

It wasn't until the connection was broken that I was able to think clearly once again, as the thoughts of lust and pleasure gripped my consciousness in the iron vice of fantasy. A flicker of longing pulsed through my arm, and in response, I withdrew my arm from the table to hide my secret desires. I've been told by others that I was far too quick to fall and that such raw and unabashed emotion had sometimes caused others to fear my direct approach. Following the Lady Russo's lead and bathing my tongue in yet another mouthful of this glorious Corellian Elixir, I offered a warm smile in return for her gracious words.

She was right, and I? Well. I had much to learn.

Thankful that she had changed the subject into something of a less emotional nature, I found myself softly chuckling. It seemed that Choli's jab at the Battle of Dulvoyinn had earned me the title of Bard for the Rogues. For who else but dear Lucius would sing his heart out in the midst of battle? Surely none could match his Pipes' prowess. As I raised the tulip shaped glass to my lips again, my eyes had swum through the crowd and found the little she-devil. She would get hers one day. Maybe if I were drunk, enough I'd act like the embarrassed Older Brother and playfully rub my knuckles atop her scalp.

Foolishly grinning at the thought, I tore my gaze from my fellow Co-pilot and turned my attentions back towards my current companion.

"Since you asked, I think it's only right that I sing once more. Not like these people will remember Lucius the Bard singing like a drunken fool at a fundraiser." I stopped myself. "Wait. They probably would. Does that entitle me to have a choice in what High Command's using these gathered funds to purchase? Cause if so, I want Princess to be plated in solid Gold." My smile had soured somewhat as the thought crossed my mind, leaving me to burst out into laughter scant seconds later. "She'd better not have heard that since she might relish the idea, and we'd be all listening to her complain until she finds something else to suit her fancy."

Emptying my glass and placing it on the table, I roused myself from the padded seat and began looking for the Band that had been playing classical numbers this entire time. Once I had spotted them, I noted that there was an instrument that had been bereft of an artist and had seemingly been waiting for my gentle touch. The stars had aligned, I thought to myself as I tore my gaze back to my kind confederate.

"Very well then," I said with a curt bow. "I shall return!"

Slipping my hand underneath hers, I gently kissed the supple skin above her knuckles - a gentlemanly gesture that I had seen once or twice before in various HoloDrama's. God's Blood, how cheesy could one get? Nevertheless, with the deed done and our company parted, I slipped into the crowd and began making my way towards the stage. It was as if I had been swimming in a proverbial sea of flesh and fabric, and while my apprehension was suppressed by the alcohol, I could not deny that for a moment, I felt like I had made a mistake. That faded, thankfully, as I reached the stage and stepped on its wooden surface. The music had abruptly stopped, and many eyes turned towards my apparent transgression. That wasn't good. I felt my stomach clench as their venomous glances fell upon me. My mind had instantly sought to fuel my desire to retreat to the small comforts of drink and company, but my heart - as capricious as it was - thought that I should stick true to my words and do what I must.

Naturally, as the boiling blood began to move my digits of their volition, I knew that this was the point of no return. My path had led me to this moment, and this would be the first time I would perform in a crowded room, rather than over the squadron level comms. Taking the Harp in hand, and rolling it across the breadth of the stage, I took the place of prominence. In gathering a stool and putting it before the magnificent instrument, the hair on the back of my neck began to prickle under the sudden and inexplicable warmth brought upon by the shining stage lights. Definitely no turning back now.

Silence reigned in the moments after my brazen assault on the hired musicians but was swiftly sundered by my fingers striking the first chord of something special. My fingers danced across the taut strings, producing a hauntingly beautiful melody that had ensnared my passion and caused it's tune to reverberate through the crowd.

https://youtu.be/823yuWz0lto​

"These scars, long have yearned for your tender caress. To bind our fortunes, Damn what the stars own! Rend my heart open, then your love profess. A winding, weaving fate to which we both atone."

My fingers danced across the surface of the Harp, matching the sonorous pitch of my voice, and creating a harmonious blend between man and instrument.

"You flee my dream come the morning, Your scent - berries tart, lilac sweet. To dream, of raven locks entwisted, stormy, Of violet eyes, glistening as you weep."

The words had sprung forth from a reservoir of painful memories, and as such my heart had been laid bare for all to see. I was naked, and my wounds both physical and, emotional had made themselves painfully apparent. But - despite it all, I was swept up in my swirling tempest of sensation that I couldn't stop now, even if I had wanted too.

"The wolf, I will follow into the Storm, To find your Heart, it's passion displaced. By Ire ever growing, hardening into stone, Amidst the cold to hold you in a heated embrace."

That was when I felt it. A single tear of joy, sliding down my shaven cheek. With the beat missed, I took a moment to wipe the spilled liquid from my eye and continued plucking at the Harp.

"You flee my dream come the morning, Your scent - berries tart, lilac sweet. To dream, of raven locks entwisted, stormy, Of violet eyes, glistening as you weep."

My world had become the moment, cycling down from the disconcerting glances to the taut strings before me. My thoughts became nothing more than what note I had to hit next, and which verse had followed after the haunting reverb.

"I know not if Fate would have us live as one, Or if by love's blind chance we've been bound. The wish I whispered, when it all began, did it forge a Love you might have never found?"

Then I had remembered the blinding light, and how warm it had felt. While my mind had known such a light had radiated off another woman, as the image materialized in my thoughts - another had stood in her place, causing yet another tear to drip from my eye. Naked and bare for all to see... and yet I wept. Not for the stinging pain that stung the tips of my fingers, but for something else - something that I couldn't explain while my thoughts were focused solely on the song. If anything, it could've been that I was moved by my words and enthralled by the passion that they had inspired.

"You flee my dream come the morning, Your scent - berries tart, lilac sweet. To dream, of raven locks entwisted, stormy, Of violet eyes, glistening as you weep."

When my song had finished, I roused myself from the padded seat and returned both of the items I had taken the liberty of borrowing, back from whence I had found them. My thoughts were swimming so fast that I didn't notice the cheering crowd behind me. It seems that many had shared in my passion, but as I turned to bow - my gaze flickered towards my companion. I didn't care what these people thought of me anymore. Only her words, whatever they may be, mattered now.

Removing myself from the stage and walking through a parting ocean of applause, I had returned to my seat and poured myself another glass from the rapidly vanishing bottle of Whyren's Reserve.

"So," I said with a playful smile. "Did you enjoy this one as well?"

| [member="Alexandra Russo"] |

 

[Josef Ibn Abad]

'At the time of a test, a person will rise or they will fall.'​

That was an old proverb of Josef Ibn-Abad's people and one that his Father had told him before the man left Dantooine not but a few weeks ago. In Josef's opinion, his life on that planet was over. The chaos that enveloped his life had finally pushed the man to seek out what his heart desired. What it desired most was to help people. Yes life as a Paramedic was fulfilling in its own right but Josef yearned to do more. Yet that was a dangerous aspect. While most in the Ibn-Abad family preferred to live in seclusion, only socializing with people outside of their culture when there was no other choice, Josef wanted to explore. He knew he could do more. As [member="Katarine Ryiah"] and his Mother pointed out several times, Josef was force sensitive. The first person in centuries to be such in his family. What if he could do more with the force? What if he could be trained with the force to save lives?

That was what his family feared. The force. The ancestor whose name was never spoken had left a mark on the Ibn-Abad family. The shame forever casting a shadow over the passing generations. Each fearing that another would be touched with the gift to use the force. Each fearing that if that day ever came, then the family would be faced with the same nightmare as before. For Ibn-Abad's the force wasn't meant to be cherished. It was meant to be feared. Ignorance? Not entirely. It was what they were conditioned to believe. Master Ryiah had shown Josef a different aspect. It could be used to save lives. There was an aspect of the force itself Josef shouldn't fear if he was willing to commit to it. That chance was one Josef had to take.

He made a promise to his parents before he left. He promised to return home if he ever felt that ping of darkness. He would be a man of his word.

How he found the Galactic Alliance and the Jedi within its ranks were a story for another day. The past few weeks had been one of constant change and relative culture shock for the man. To say he had lived in a bubble the entirety of his life would have been an understatement. He was a man of principles religious beliefs and old-school ideologies. For an event he had received a simple invite for as a new member to the Alliance ranks, he had to borrow a set of clothes. Fortunately the peoeple he had met within the ranks of the Alliance had been most generous.

The suit, not tux, was a bit more formal than what Ibn-Abad was used too. He fidgeted nervously in it. He wasn't used to appearing so modelesque. The shoes were much shinier than paramedics work boots. The tie felt like a noose. The only things that Josef had that were his was the wallet in the jackets right breast pocket, the watch his father gifted him, and the head scarf that covered nearly the entire head. Josef and his kind were people of great modesty. Unless around family, and only family, they ensured nearly every aspect of their bodies were covered.

What made Josef nervous about this gala though besides the incredibly magnificent way many of the men and women were dressed and how easy they all seemed to fit in to such a literally rich environment, was the booze. Lots and lots of booze. Everyone seemed to have a drink and if they didn't servers ensured one found its way to their hands.

Josef slowly walked along the outer wall of the room. A nervous sweat beaded on his face, though the small shadow of a beard helped to hide some of the perspiration. He was on a mission. Every few paces he stopped a server with a tray and asked politely for water. Drinking alcohol? That was out of the question. None of them had water readily available. Occasionally Josef would ask a guest. Most were polite. Some simply looked away. Yeah, it was obvious the man was out of his element.

Then he bumped into another man in a rather remarkable tuxedo; even Josef had to admit to it. The bump caused the man to stumble into his date, a rather young woman in a dandelion yellow colored dress. Josef averted his gaze immediately of the woman, not out of rudeness but social obligation. He wasn't allowed eye contact with members of the opposite gender without expressed permission. Call it one of those pesky but highly respected religious obligations of Josef Ibn-Abad.

"I apologize." Josef spoke with a humility that was rarely seen in many, "I meant no disrespect. I shall be most careful next time." He did what he could to try and hide the thick accent of his people. The awkwardness of his tone was ever apparent when he asked, "Do you know where I can get a glass of water?"

[member="Aneya Maev"]​

Josef's Outfit
Josef's Hijab

 

[Marcus Lok]

Marcus looked deep into her eyes as she undoubtedly struggled with her own internal conflicts. In one sense, this could be labelled a form of espionage or treachery, but he doubted that any charges like that would come up... So long as he didn't trip the alarm. With a nod, he set about his work.

A thousand thoughts stormed his mind as he began to fiddle with the console. It would not only be a chance to explore the depths of a Jedi's mansion, but a chance to actually show off some his own skills to Sylvia. Any kid with a datapad could claim to be a slicer after all, but he assumed very few who made the claim would actually be able to put their skills into use. First came the side plates, which were easily removed from the main structure for easy access to maintenance crews. These plates were also the usual deaths of most security consoles if not properly locked down. After the side plate had clicked out of place, Marcus took care in removing his datapad from his jacket and hooked it up into the small port which would usually be used to run diagnostics on the door's operating system.

Now don't you dare...

A single bead of sweat rand own his forehead as he typed away at the command lines within the datapad, and soon he had found what he was looking for. After digging through the diagnostic reports of nearly every aspect of the door, he had found the maintenance command lines. After he had retrieved the code from the logs, he simply brought the plate back onto the panel and clipped it back into place.

"Here goes nothing."

His hand now moved for the keypad and he typed in a rather long succession of characters that held no particular meaning to the untrained eye, but hopefully the door's interface would understand it perfectly. And it did. Within a few seconds the whirring of an internal lock and then an audible click preceded the door folding back into the wall.

"Ta-da."

He gave a rather confident smile to Sylvia as he knew that she must be slightly more convinced that he knew what he was doing with these sorts of things. Usually, the main weakness of a computer was its own information, tucked away by only a thin screen of plastic.


[member="Sylvia Nuru"]

 

[Armand Temi]

Sylvia bit the fingernail on her thumb, a bad habit for sure, but one she slipped back into when she was nervous. Her eyes darted back and forth from her slicer friend working on the security pad to the corridor behind them.

"Hey," she said, nonchalantly to a fellow pilot in an asymmetrical gown who drunkenly wandered down the hallway, only to realize the refresher was somewhere else. Sylvia resisted the urge to say "hurry," but as each second ticked along, her movements became a little less relaxed.

"That was close, but I'm good at running interference," she said with a soft laugh, taking a sip of her still existent drink. Which is a silly thing to say, Sylvia, because you've never run interference in your life, and furthermore, she wasn't even sure what it meant. But it sounded like something out of a holomovie, so it would work for now. Didn't Jedi Master's have the most fabulous wine cellars? Or was that just a myth that she'd heard or even dreamed?

She had absolutely trusted Marcus when he said what he did for a living, but if she had any doubts, they were absolutely erased at this moment. He was really doing it!

Her eyes widened as the door hissed open. Practically flying through like an X-wing, the built-for-speed pilot, grabbed the slicer's hand and pulled him through the forbidden door.

"I can't believe we're in," she whispered though the hallways were completely empty. No sign of security anywhere. Sylvia glanced up at the ceiling, but could see no cameras. Still she had no doubt they were there. "Where to first?" the redhead asked, skipping up the corridor ahead of Marcus. "I wonder what Jedi Master's eat. Or do you think this one has like a really nice bar somewhere?" she asked, looking at her nearly empty drink.

[member="Marcus Lok"]

 

[Ibaris Varanin]

She hadn't known where this action of hers would lead, hadn't thought it through what with being so preoccupied with just trying to go through with it at all. He didn't reciprocate, and another layer of panic was piled on that made the stinging at her eyes develop and slip down her cheeks, singular drops leaving a trail like the rain on a window. She didn't hear the *tunk* of the tumbler hitting the floor over the noise of the party crashing louder than it normally should have in her ears, being that it was the focus of her anxiety; only then did he respond, pouring into her, wrapping around her with a strength she had become accustomed to in many spars over the past several years, and... lulling her to sleep in recent months.

That it had taken the death of her papa to send her into his arms after all these years was a small source of shame, for being so stubbornly cold, so withdrawn, so selfish and carelessly demanding. That being said, death and endings had marked each point of their relationship, from the loss of her dearest uncle around the time that she had hired the blonde farmboy on as a pilot, to the kidnapping that once and for all put an end to the sheltered safety of her childhood, to less than a year hence that brought the aforementioned loss of a parent. Her papa and mama whom had never been afraid to be open in their affection for each other made for less sense in the way she handled the same thing.

Fear caused this. Fear that she would always lose those that she loved. Fear of loving and letting anyone in, because it would be a risk... but it happened nonetheless, beyond her control, and she couldn't protect him if he was out of her sight. Maybe this was why she tried; why, when he enveloped her amongst all these people and despite the fear of being caught in affection, she stayed right where she was, and why when he finally broke the kiss, she only gasped, the breath catching in her throat as he trailed the lowest edge of her face being released only when he stopped and began to pull away, of his own volition.

'I'm sorry.'

He relinquished his hold, and with his apology a sort of panic rose in her; Ibaris curled her fingers into his shirt once again before he could get out of her reach. Her chin dropped to her chest, tears drying, breath coming out shaken, "Don't," she managed, her grip getting tighter, "don't be afraid of me," her eyes squeezed shut, and she swallowed, "please."

[member="Liam Quez"]

 

[Aneya Maev]

"No worries," Aneya said after having regained from the small bump a newcomer had hit her with. It was nothing to her -- these things happened. And since no drinks were spilled, everything was alright for her. However, as she looked at Xander, she could tell that meant something for him. Whether he was angry at the man for having disturbed the conversation or he just didn't like somebody touching his partner, the look he gave was still destructive.

"I don't happen to know where you could get some water," the editor-in-chief of Sullust Daily spoke. "The party's mostly about alcohol." She found it hard to believe that a man like him wouldn't want to drink. Yeah, maybe it was not a part of his culture or he just didn't want to be drunk that night or whatever else was the reason. "But when I see some, I will definitely tell you."

She smiled to the man and then looked at Xander, telling him with just his facial expression that she wanted the man to leave the two alone for a moment.

"I am Aneya, by the way. Nice to meet you."

She liked making new contacts. For a journalist like her, sometimes a friend could be crucial for her job. If little hints came from around the galaxy from her contacts, she could do well.

Any chance to broaden the contact list was great.

[ [member="Josef Ibn Abad"] ]

 

[Josef Ibn Abad]

The young lady was much more polite than her escort for the evening, or date, whichever, based on her immediate response to Ibn-Abads sudden intrusion. Josef was still struggling on getting his terminology correct. For his people the term escort simply meant companion, familial or otherwise. However outside of his little subset on Dantooine, Josef was quick to learn that escort had a far different meaning. It was those subtle nuances in verbiage that the man had to adapt too.

Josef's fears were realized when the young woman stated the party was mostly about alcohol. That was a shame. One of the numerous things the man was unable to partake in due to his devout religious standards. He wasn't going to be rude however and insult a party he had been invited too. He also wasn't going to think ill of people who did drink. Who was Josef to judge? Even he had a vice or two that was hidden from the world.

"I thank you kindly, Miss." Josef said, still trying desperately to hide his accent.

Though he couldn't make direct eye contact with the woman, Josef did happen to glance about her face. A quick glance here. A fast look there. He noted the expression she gave her escort... err... date. It seemed as though she wanted a moment of privacy with Josef.

She introduced herself as Aneya.

"A pleasure to meet you Miss Aneya." The formality in which he spoke and the gentleness of his tone was unique unto the almond colored eyed foreigner, "My name is Josef Ibn-Abad." The man gave the room a very casual look around, "I do apologize," one of many of Josef's quirks, the man apologized for everything, "but I am unfamiliar with these sorts of events. I feel like a fish out of, how do you say, the lake?"

He turned his attention back towards Aneya, "Do you know many of the people here?"

​

[member="Aneya Maev"]​

 

[Tela Uolmi]

Whatever [member="Asmus Janes"] had said, it went in one ear and out the other without a shred of remembrance. She raked a hand through her short, gingered locks, the lift of his, [member="Sal Katarn"]'s chin giving clear indication that she'd been noticed and invited, provoking a lasciviousness in her visage. Intention crept in, in his face and hers in kind, as she spun a chair about, straddling it with her chest pressed into the backing, arms folded over one another on the top edge. She looked him straight in the face, nary a shy bone about her, either reckless or bold.

Even close up, she still liked what she saw. 'See you play the cards,' she started out, her shoulders canting back, lower lip caught with a sharp intake of breath, 'so what can you see about me, Scruffy?' Not that fortunes were of much interest, but a way in was a way in, and she wasn't too, too picky about how she got from point A to point B. 'Or are we gonna cut to the chase? We both know what we're thinkin'.'

That was assumin', but she knew that look as surely as it was the one on her own face. She hadn't pointedly come with that intent in mind, either, but wasn't one to pass up an opportunity... and opportunities were rarely few and far between, if only one had an open mind; she was open to nearly anything.

 

[Alexandra Porte]

Alexandra chuckled softly at her drinking companion's sense of humor about his precious droid.

"I know exactly what you mean… Rusty would be the same way, and would never ever let me forget it either."

Pilots and their beloved better-halves… Yes, Alleycat would be lost with hers. The copper red R-2 unit kept the Taanabian out of trouble more times than not. And he was always there for her when others left Alex all alone.

"I can't wait to hear this one. Go get em', tiger." the brandy-eyed brunette winked as her hand was kissed in a gentlemanly fashion before [member="Lucius Varad"] walked away to where the band had been playing.

Rogue Twelve had chosen the harp to play. He strummed it with some skill as his voice accompanied it with a ballad that was beautiful. Who knew Lucius was so talented. His new official callsign was born that night.

After "The Bard's" performance was over, Alexandra hooped and hollered as her hands came together in appreciation. When he returned to their table, a warm smile was waiting for him.

"Yes, I enjoyed the song immensely… You certainly know how to call to a girl's heart," she said, then clinked her glass to his as he'd just refilled it.

 

[Sal Katarn]

A smirk crept slowly around the smoke and up scruffy features. She didn't waste any time, got right to the point. Sal could appreciate that. His eyes narrowed, hungrily watching the way her back arched to press the front of her body into the chair, her lips parting ever so slightly as she did.

Can appreciate a few other things too.

Katarn inhaled one last, long toke, then blew out 'til grey ringlets wreathed his features. He plucked the smoke from his mouth and doused it in the nearly empty shot glass. The last embers went out in a soft hiss.

"Mhm."

He shrugged one shoulder and slowly got to his feet with the same lazy, relaxed movements as a Corellian sand panther.

"Na'varro's bed," he rasped, voice as hoarse as if someone had taken a sandpaper to his vocal chords, "Let's go."

And promptly walked off toward a side corridor. No cutesy hand-holding. No first peck of lips. That was for people pretending it would be something else. Something more. If Sal got hungry he ate. If he got thirsty he drank. Didn't make a big deal about those two, shouldn't make none about this.

[member="Tela Uolmi"]

 

[Micah Talith]

[member="Owen Holst"] [member="Loske Matson"]

Another throaty chuckle. Okay, maybe I should knock it off now. It was easy to see that the blonde was already rather befuddled at the events with the tomato slice. He wasn't out to be cruel, just to tease. Ahh, but that inclination to keep poking at her still would linger. With the devil in his smirk, Micah slowly went weaving his way closer.

He'd have preferred to keep himself cloaked, but there was only so much he could do when tempted to tease. Besides... the buffet table did look rather good. Might as well score up another plate.

Owen and Loske wouldn't have any hint of his approach until the tenor of the Talith's voice came singing just behind Loske's shoulder. One second he wasn't there, the next, BAM! A rascal's smile and mischief glittering in his copper eyes.

"Got a good selection there Brighteyes," He caught Owen's gaze, then flashed a wink in hello. His attention, however, went back to the shell of Loske's ears as he added low for her to hear, "Or should it be Legs instead?"

 

[Marcus Lok]

Marcus had hardly finished admiring his work when she dragged him after her. He would have well liked to remove himself from situations that might involve him spending a few nights in a Sullustian prison cell, but he hardly thought that anything could go wrong now that they had gotten past the door.

His eyes flashed around the dimly lit corridor as they continued on. Most of the doors that they were passing appeared to be unlocked, though not readily exciting. A few spare room doors were left open and the familiar figures of expensive furniture appeared beneath the glow of red lights, not unlike the ones that illuminated the main ballroom. It was magnificent really, and Marcus hardly had spent any amount of time in upscale homes and mansions on Mandalore. It was truly a maze of endless possibilities, and he could hardly think of sharing it with anyone other than Sylvia. This was a side of her he had not expected, one that ran into the depths of unfamiliar space and most likely against the wishes of her superiors!

At her flurry of suggestions he truly could not decide where they should run to next! Surely if they stuck around for too long they would be discovered but he hardly cared because then it would all be about escape, and h was certainly a master of that at the very least.

"Maybe we can find a lightsaber or two... I don't even know where we are!.."


[member="Sylvia Nuru"]

 

[Armand Temi]

It was fascinating to think that the pair were sneaking around the inner sanctum of a Jedi Master. While Sylvia thought it was going to be mysterious, full of esoterica, strange relics and hidden rooms, the estate was actually a quite normal one. It was obvious that the owner was wealthy, but beyond that there was nothing strange or unusual in the mansion.

“A lightsaber!” she exclaimed in a hushed whisper. “I wouldn’t know the first thing about using one.” Rogue Fifteen’s melodic laugh echoed through the empty hallways. “Trespassing is one thing, but stealing may get both of us locked in the brig. Though I like the way you think.”

Of course, it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if they were locked in there together. But that would hardly be a punishment.

“Oh here’s an interesting place,” said the redhead pilot, leading Marcus into a great room with a fireplace. It appeared to be just a space for relaxing and meditating perhaps. On one side of the room there was a large window, overlooking what appeared to be lava streams intersecting with aqua-green pools of water. The view was breathtaking, of course in reality, deadly if you were down there near the lava streams, and Sylvia could see why the owner chose this area in which to build a giant wall-to-wall window. Settling onto a sofa which allowed its occupants the expansive view, Rogue Fifteen patted the seat next to her for Marcus. She was glad they made the breakaway and was furthermore pleased that the first room they explored wasn’t a bedroom. While the redhead pilot was eager to repeat the night they had on Soceras in the handsome slicer’s hotel, she didn’t want to be overly presumptuous about his intentions.

[member="Marcus Lok"]

 

[Marcus Lok]

The stories of the Jedi were very numerous in the galaxy, but very few of those stories ever described such a grand lifestyle. He had always pictured the Jedi as being akin to monks, men and women who cared little about the more materialistic aspects of life, but this man had clearly abandoned that mindset if it existed. The grand hallway gave way to many rooms that appeared somewhat standard, but the great room that Sylvia now led the way into could hardly be described as such.

Through the window he gained a limited view of the volcanic expanse that surrounded the property. He could only imagine what tempted people to build homes on volcanic worlds, it seemed an incredibly stupid thing to do if you valued any sort of time outdoors. He was glad that he could look forward to spending his days in the grassy country of Mandalore whenever he wished, though it would likely be less luxurious than this construction. After he had taken in the view, he made his way towards the sofa that Sylvia had settled down on. How picturesque was this scene? A beautiful girl, a crackling fire, and a private room all to themselves... He felt as though he were watching an old holomovie.

It was incredible how the firelight danced across her hair as if it were its own center of radiating warmth. They had had quite a night, and although Marcus had truly never expected to see her again, he was glad that he did. He was also too well aware of how fleeting this time was and that she would likely be deployed to fight against of the Alliance's many enemies in the upcoming struggle to regain the core worlds. Perhaps he would be involved?.. If he were, he hardly could see him shooting down any enemy ships past this point.

"You picked a good spot. I doubt we would have found anything further along."

[member="Sylvia Nuru"]