Public [Zinder Event] Celebrating Mutually Assured Devotion!

[Corazona von Ascania]

Darth Nefaron​

Would I not call that remarkable?

Cora tilted her head in consideration. Perhaps he was right, in that regard. When his goading did not work, Nefaron found a new angle to attack from, probing her defenses.

The Jedi frowned, her gaze rolling toward the sky in genuine thought. She could feel his venomous curiosity as it searched for a crack in her armor through which to seep. He was clever and relentless. A deadly combination.

"I can do nothing, and preserve the lives of those here, at the cost of those you may destroy later."

Her fingers brushed against the Queen's Heart, feeling the roots where they dug deep into the soil, intertwining with the plant life over the grounds. It was an unseen web that linked them all, extending her senses far.

"If I fight you here - I will fail - and the chain reaction it would ignite among those present would result in innocent lives lost. Prudence stays my hand, rather than decorum."

Her fingers moved to the bare patch of soil next to the crimson blooms. Her thumb retreated into her sleeve for a moment, picking at the stitches of her hem. A careful roll of her wrist dislodged the seeds hidden in her cuff, and with two fingers, she pressed them into the earth.

Her expression creased with the weight of Nefaron's implication.

"If my loved ones are to lay lifeless in the dirt, then I will be there, lifeless, alongside them."

A tiny green seedling rose from the dirt, curling and twisting as it grew upwards. It's thin, wispy green stalk darkened as it thickened, delicate white flowers unfurling from the body of the vine. It grew before both her and Nefaron's eyes, the Force pulsing steadily around them.

"They call you the Master of Fear," she intoned quietly, but not gently. "Do you still feel it? Or is it your trade to impart fear unto others?"

 

[Trayze Tesar]

---

CURRENT MISSION - Love Drives All Men M.A.D.
Immediate Goals -
1: Kick her karkin' arse

BLUFOR - Darth Malum of House Marr

OPFOR - Lirka Ka

TARGETING ACTION(S) - Lirka Ka || OPEN FREQUENCY

---

Nails dug into flesh as Trayze yowled in irritation, before gritting his teeth - forcing his body to remain as still as possible. She may have found purchase in his body, but he would not draw blood so easily.

Biting down vitriol, he gave no witty banter, his mind more focused upon ensuring that his first victory against the Kainite Menace was one that could not be denied. Thoughts raced as he assessed how to gain victory as decisively and quickly as possible... Rip off the mask? Can't, don't know the clasp. Fist to the jaw to render her unconscious? Fifty-fifty chance, and even if you succeed, that would violate your non-agression agreement.

But then again, this was less a battle of spectacle and more of two people just throwing everything at each other. There would be no honour conducted in this bout - mostly because Trayze didn't know, and couldn't afford to kark around. Perhaps you strike at the throat, hit the trachea, daze her - no, as he considered how a "self-proclaimed masochist" would enjoy the prospect of asphyxiation, his face reddened upon this realization. This realization also unfortunately coincided with Trayze striking first, before finding his hand being grappled with her own - appearing as he seemed to get flustered at the prospect of a woman holding his hand.

A humiliating moment, but one he could take advantage. After all, what is a relationship if not built on reciprocity?

Reciprocation in the form of a headbutt to a particularly fragile portion of the mask, breaking it, or further intensifying the injury that he knew the once-Sephi endured.

 

[Lirka Ka]

Finally having her grasp on him, Lirka tightened her hand as the foul nails sunk deeper into the meat. She really did sharpen them...who in their right mind sharpened their nails for fighting? It made much more sense that Lirka was far from her right mind on most days. Even more so considering she was in the middle of an arena wrestling with a Sith in the middle of Naboo during a love festival.

But she supposed odder things had happened in her long life.

She was admittedly a bit disappointed by his lack of banter, but that would never stop Lirka: she liked hearing herself talk a little too much. Even in a down and dirty brawl like they were having, not like Lirka believed in honor anymore. This was, almost, proper fighting. As his face reddened, and his hand reached hers Lirka wanted to gag but kept it down as best she could, pity overpowered disgust in that moment as she spoke, "witty" as ever.

"You've got to be joking, come now Trayze Tesar you can't actually be-"

She was rather quickly, and rudely, interrupted when his head slammed into her mask. A crack forming along its form as she grunted. which quickly turned into a snarl at her work being damage. Evidently, she hadn't been horribly over-prepared for their bout, or had at least expected it go better.

"Do you have any idea how expensive this is you oaf!?"

As she snarled at him in frustration, the viscous blackness of her blood finally trickled down over her chin and ran down her neck. She'd been caught.

 

[Tigris]

Objective: BYOO
Location: Main Ballroom
Outfit: Dress
Tag; Everest Vale

It was new for Tigris as well, this thing with Everest. But she had experienced 'new' in a flood within the past few years, so much so that she had come to cope with it rather well. If anything, Tigris was trained to keep a level, practical head about her. But it was a little different with Eve. This 'new' played upon feelings that Tigris had not know. Affection, love, she was navigating them as well as she could. Tigris felt she had to, because it seemed that Everest was going through the same thing.

There was something instinctive in Tigris when it came to Everest. Protect her, nurture her. The tattooed padawan didn't try to define it, she simply let it guide her. The two had found a rhythm in their dance, and as the music moved to a more subdued piece, it seemed to set the mood even more between the two women. Tigris released Everest's hand, letting hers slip behind Eve as well, until both rested on the small of the Echani's back. With them, she felt more intimately the small, fluid sway of Eve's hips in time with the music.

Their eyes had remained fixed, indulging in simply drinking in each other's gaze. Tigris found Eve's silvery eyes mesmerizing, enjoying the details of her irises. She saw something pass in those eyes, a herald to the words Eve spoke softly. Everest felt fear about the future.

Tigris' gaze darted upwards for a moment as she gathered her words, then they fixed again upon the bright eyes of the younger padawan. "We cant't control the future. Don't let what might never happen steal joy from the now." She answered. Her hands pulled Everest's hips against hers, shamelessly but not lewdly. 'I am here, right now. Feel me...." their hips pressed against one another's, swaying to the music together, "...this is our moment, and I am not going to let anything steal it from us." She added, drawing so close her lips nearly brushed against Eve's as she spoke.

One hand slipped from the small of Eve's back, sliding up to press gently against the girl's soft porcelain white cheek. The bronzed girl's head tilted slightly before closing the tiny distance between them. Her lips pressed softly against Eve's. They lingered, pressed in a bit more, moving slightly against Everest's. After a long breath, Tigris' lips pulled from Eve's, but the Recopian only withdrew enough to be able to focus again on Eve's stunning gaze.

 

[Eivii]

Objective 1: Ballroom
Outfit: Dress

"It's fine. The only dancing I get to practice is fighting. And even then, I'm not the best at it. I'm a whole lover, not a fighter. Nor a dancer."

Completely oblivious to the tensions around them, Eivii was focused on the dance. Even if they were both bad at it, she didn't care. She was at a masquerade, dancing in a ball - she, the killer, bounty hunter, blackmailer and blackmailee, had a chance to feel like a princess, even if anywhere she could have called home was destroyed by the Brotherhood of the Maw years ago.

"Kriff what anyone else says, I think you're a great dancer, Lord Dr. Knight Pavond" she said with a posh impersonation, barely avoiding a stumble returning from the dip, "We both are, and kriff- er, uh, to the hounds anyone who says otherwise" she continued with an infectious grin. It was all play-pretend at this point, but she was thankful for the opportunity.

She of course reserved a space in the back of her mind ready to heel-kick anyone who so much as chuckled at the man willing to entertain her fantasy. She had barely met this man and he was probably more than capable of defending himself, but...

Something in Eivii didn't want this kindhearted Miralian to have to do so. Even if she never saw him again, someone who hadn't been turned cynical by the gutters of the galaxy was a precious and endangered species.

She was, of course, building up an idealized fantasy of who Shan Pavond was in her mind with no evidence to back it up. She admitted she was probably setting herself up for disappointment but living this lie for a little was worth the memory, she told herself.

Shan Pavond | OPEN (to throw hands with anybody who laughs at the green bean)​

 

[Shan Pavond]

Shan danced away as carefully as he could. This was nice if he was being honest to himself. Maybe he should have danced more often with people. It would beat him just standing in the corner anytime there was some kind of event going on for the Alliance now. He made sure to check Eivii was enjoying it as well. Of course, there was a part of him that was worried that she was taking this far more seriously than he was. Shan was just treating this as a day for her to be happy. He had no intentions of this being a regular occurrence. A one day dance for lack of a better term. Though he blinked at the comment about Kath Hounds.

"You know hounds are quite genius creatures? At least Kath Hounds are. They can be trained quite well. So can most creatures if you try hard enough."

He just couldn't help himself. Shan wasn't normally much of a conversationalist. He wasn't good at cues or stuff like that, but when it came to talking about the things he knew, or stuff he liked, the Mirialan could talk for ages. Going into details about the different things to do with the creatures. Of course, Shan wasn't an expert on animals. He had almost ventured out into the idea of being a beastmaster...but decided healing was far more suited to him. Which was fine by him. It meant he got to be called Lord Doctor Knight!

Eivii

 

[Everest Vale]

Objective: BYOO
Location: Main Ballroom
Outfit: Dress & Necklace
Tag: Tigris

"We can't control the future. Don't let what might never happen steal joy from the now. I am here, right now. Feel me... This is our moment, and I am not going to let anything steal it from us."

As Tigris spoke in hushed and tender tones to her, it was everything Eve needed to hear. She was so gentle with her, so warm, so loving, and her breath hitched as their bodies swayed against one another and their faces inched closer together. She could feel her heartbeat rising, the warmth building in her, as the tension between the two Padawans reached an all-time high. Eve became lost in those mysterious dark eyes that pulled her in deep. She could see so much mystery in them, and yet so much passion — clear and direct — reserved exclusively for her and her alone.

Then Tigris' lips locked with hers.

Eve melted in her gentle embrace, leaning deeper into her kiss. The entire world melted around them, leaving only the two of them suspended within a sea of infinite stars, each single one having conspired in celestial unison to bring them together in this very moment. Tigris' lips were so soft, so warm, just like everything else she seemed to reserve for her. So this was what a kiss felt like? Was this feeling...?

Eve could feel the heat rush immediately to her face— or was that just Tigris' face against hers? She wasn't sure, but she just knew she was blushing like nobody's business. When Tigris pulled back, it was like she was pulled dramatically back into the room against her wishes, and she somehow blushed even more as her mind caught up with the moment.

Her lip trembled as her eyes widened, sparkling in the chandelier light like two silver stars. She looked at the Recopian in a way she had never looked at anyone. She was beautiful beyond what any words could describe, but Eve felt a determination to find as many ways to express it as she could. The way she embraced her made Eve feel more safe than she had ever felt before, and as she looked at her — taking in her whole face — Eve knew that she wanted to return the sentiment in kind as much as her whole being was capable of achieving. She would fight for her. She would protect her. She would do everything she could to give her joy.

There were no words between them, but as Eve decided in that moment exactly how much she needed Tigris in her life, and how much she would fight for that very idea, she sealed the unspoken commitment with an newfound surge of confidence. She leaned in and, this time, she kissed her.

Tigris​

 

[Darth Nefaron]

TAGS: Corazona von Ascania
EQUIPMENT: Finest Black Robe, Walking Stick

There it was.

The birth of new life.
​

Nefaron, if anything, was an attentive observer. Standing over his Jedi companion, he watched as she continued her work while providing a rather straightforward answer to his query. She had admitted herself to be the lesser in a contest of power, assuming Nefaron to be the victor in a contest of destructive potential. She was not wrong to assume that Nefaron would slaughter most beings here without a second thought, at least those who posed little threat to the Dark Lord. But again she had sold herself short while admitting her complacency in the face of the death of those she loved.

She seemed so confident.

Liar.
​

It was not a verbal accusation, but Nefaron had concluded that this Jedi Princess was a bundle of contradictions. For all the suffering she had endured, for all the trials she overcame, there was still so much uncertainty. Those she loved may die, but she would live.

Oh yes, she would live. Darth Nefaron had deemed it so.

She would suffer. She would break.

She would embrace the Dark.
​

Quiet chuckling escaped the Sith Lord's hood, accompanied by a bout of slow clapping as the Queen's Heart bloomed anew. Nefaron had never doubted the power of the Light, he only saw it for what it was; an inferior aspect of the power that flowed through his veins, the same power that the Jedi possessed but refused to use to its full potential. But that could easily be changed, it just required a bit of time and careful tutoring. Young Veradun, the Dark Lord's current project, was shaping up to be a truly ferocious beast, cunning and cruel all the while hiding behind the tattered remains of his honor. Lady Corazona reminded Nefaron of his Apprentice, but they had taken radically different paths in life. Veradun had found the path to power and Corazona remained shackled to lesser beings, unable to see her own potential.

"You have been an attentive listener, my Lady, so let me tell you another tale. It should answer your question."

Surprisingly, the Corpse Lord knelt beside the Jedi, all be it with a bit of difficulty. His body was a horrid thing, broken and remade into its current form. Various crude instruments aided him in standing and kneeling, the slight creek of the old metal could be heard as he sank fully to his knees. Without the force, Nefaron would be little more than a crippled old man. Yet the force surrounded both Jedi and Sith, warm air colliding with the wall of frost that followed the Dark Side.

"Long ago, there was a lad whose life was rather... ordinary. He had dreams, of course, a desire to aid those who suffered around him in the depths of Coruscant. But unfortunately, the boy came to face a rather harsh reality. Deep down, in the heart of every living being, exists a cruelty that is desperate to get out. Most keep it contained, but some embrace it wholeheartedly. Are they simply evil at birth? Irredeemable wretches, who bring only death and suffering? Well, that young boy had no answer to that question-"

Nefaron reached out then, taking a handful of dirt and examining it. That power the Jedi had employed still lingered, and it burned the Corpse Lord. But he persisted, the sting ignored as he continued on.

"-he just came home to his beloved mother, only to find her butchered at the hands of a madman. Of course, he was far too late to save her, her eviscerated corpse made that abundantly clear. In his grief, he sought revenge, delving ever deeper into the pits of Coruscant to track down the madman who had done this, only for the boy to find himself the victim of the mutated beasts that roam the lowest levels. Broken, the boy begged for death that would not come. Instead, the murderer who had caused so much grief for the boy took him in, applying what crude surgical knowledge and instruments he had on hand. Oh how he reveled in the boy's suffering, his smile growing ever wider with each bone he set and each wound he stitched shut."

Quiet for a moment, Nefaron allowed the dirt in his hand to slowly drain from his fingers. It tumbled back to the ground.

"The boy lived. His body was broken, his mind even more so. Yet he felt... different. The fear, the anger, and the pain had molded him into something new, an enlightened being. That monstrous butcher became the boy's first Master, though he lacked the same power the boy did. As always, the Apprentice eventually became the Master, but only after granting the same gift that had been provided to him."

While there was more to this tale, Nefaron kept it at that. To his credit, he spoke the truth, though, of course, he could only provide his own personal view on what happened so long ago. Yet words meant little, the power both he and Lady Corazona shared granted them an alternative method of communication.

She wished to know if he still felt fear.

He would show her.
​

Nefaron allowed his hand to drift to the Jedi, though he refrained from touching her. His open palm, despite its decrepit state, was strangely inviting.

"Let me show you what I seek for the galaxy. My fear, my ambitions, my very soul."

Though hidden within his cloak, the Corpse Lord could not help but grin.

"Come now my lady, you have been ever so confident. This should be nothing to you."​

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Ballroom //:
//: Naboo, Lady Velvet Manor //:
//: Dress //:
Direct: //: Darth Malum of House Marr //:
Mention: //: Kirie //: Eira Dyn //: Kaila Irons //: Serina Calis //: Zahari Kaan //: Tamsin Graves //:
//: Girl's Night //:

​

The moment ruby met hazel, Quinn felt the emotions roll through their mutual connection. She knew he had been deep in thought, ones that were saddened and bothered. It was what drew her back to him; Quinn cared. She had always cared about him despite everything. When she decided to return to the Empire at large, Malum was one of the first people Quinn was introduced to. She had kept to herself for so long, only interacting with Alina and the Imperial family. Finally, her time of mourning Vesta had ended, and she brought Alina back to her.

He was annoyed with her. Malum wasn't the first to show those emotions when seeing her face. She had often seen it with Alina, especially when upset over watching Vesta die. Never was she enough, and it was a grim reminder. She didn't get to respond, as he instantly threw the words she had spoken to him after Susevfi. At that time, her heart had been broken by the Sanguir in a brutal public fashion. Alina's words constantly haunted her, only making her insecurities more apparent.

Malum pulled away from her touch and presence, his annoyance glaring as obviously as the look on his face. This isn't my fault, she tried to tell herself. There were others who could have made him feel this way, but maybe it was her fault.

Once again, she was annoying, a problem to someone, and they walked away from her. She noticed her boy-king's limp and wondered if it was the same injury from the Kaggath. Sighing, the Princess looked at her champagne and finished it. It was easier to focus on drinking the alcohol than let the tears that were welling in her eyes fall. Quinn wanted to cheer him up and repay him for his friendship and what he did during the aftermath of Susevfi.

But no, she was an annoyance, something that brought him frustration.

Quinn held onto her dress again and moved through the crowd of dancers. She needed to leave to get fresh air. The woman moved elegantly, trained and poised as a princess of a warrior culture would. It didn't take her long to navigate, but she was on the edge of the ballroom, hidden in the dark corner. It was a place where her tears could fall silently as someone she had held close to her heart again broke it.

What annoyed him so much about her to cause him to walk away?

At this moment, she really just wanted her mama. Srina Talon

 

[Kaila Irons]

Wearing: Suit + Tie
Tag: Tamsin Graves Alana Calloway Quinn Varanin
Nearby: Kirie Eira Dyn

"Weird and quiet are not the same thing. And even if it were, normal people are boring!"

Kaila drunkenly gave her apprentice a little pat on the head, and continued to drag her around the party as if she truly were pushing her little sister to be more social. Tamsin really was akin to the family she never had, and whether she knew it or not, that meant so much to the young Darth.

It's just that she expressed her love by playing matchmaker after several drinks too many...

I have never talked to them unless they knew you." She openly admitted to Kaila because with a demon inside her she always thought she was to weird and before that she was slave and saw no future for her own desires.

"What am I even going to talk about?"

"That's... unfortunate... my hope has always been that by seizing power for yourself, you could use it to live the life that was taken from you. The empire may be a dangerous place, but surely there are others like us, they're just hiding."

The look she gave Tamsin was mournful, but it soon gave way to something darker as it spoke to her.

Then the Demon spoke into Kaila's mind.

"Oh, this is going to be amusing."

<<Laugh while you still can, skin-thief... If she can't eat you, I will. Your fate was sealed the moment you laid hands upon my sister.>>​

Though but a psychic whisper, it was the most coherent thought Anathemous managed since drinking.

She turned away in disgust, only to collide with Alana Calloway , having to shift her weight, stumbling back so that her cybernetic heft did not topple the smaller echani. Kaila winced, her hate giving way to concern for the stranger.

"Gods, sorry. Lost in thought again-"


The sight of this woman gave Kaila pause. The echani's red eyes and white hair were the first thing she noticed, and it explained further the next. The tattoos. Theirs was a warrior people, and though Kaila was still learning their culture, she knew the markings and why the lifestyle might appeal to an echani.

She'd been an underlord herself, once. Some still wore the icon of her Red Ronin and the Haxion Brood to this day, inked in their flesh for all time.

And she knew the irredeemable from the unfortunate.

She could see it, in those red eyes.

<<Tamsin!>> her eyes lit up, though she made no sound.

<<This one! The echani girl with the underworld tattoos, I think she's like us.>>


"Actually, it's fortunate we bumped into each other." Kaila said without giving anyone time to object.

"My wonderful sister here was looking for a dance and I've a good feeling about you two!"

"How about-"


She felt an intense sorrow that was all too familiar, and sudden. It was a heartbreak she'd experienced far too many times already. But this was the first which she shared with another.

Kaila blinked, then turned towards the source.

"Forgive me, the uhm. The drink- I'll be back, I promise."

Then, as quickly as she'd come into both their lives, the young Darth simply walked away.

<<Just try to cheer her up, talk about tough girl chit or gadgets if she's a merc, you've always been good with tech.>>

<<You got this!>>


She'd have to make it up to Tamsin later.

She disappeared into the crowd with a sense of sudden urgency, and was gone. Later she would emerge on the other side, having spotted Quinn duck behind a little corner out of the way. It reminded her too much of the way she'd ran from the dance with Alina, that pale freak.

Kaila peeked around the corner moments later, concern all over her face.



"...Quinn? Are you alright, dear?"

 

[Kirie]

Naboo
Quinn Varanin | Eira Dyn | Tamsin Graves | Kaila Irons | Darth Malum of House Marr
~ Girls Night ~

​

Kirie maintained awareness of a few things while she danced with Eira. She noticed as Quinn and Kaila peeled off from the group, led rather dramatically by the tie. She noticed Kaila shoulders fall in defeat take Tamsin aside in turn. Heard the word 'smut' shouted, and her eyes widened in curiosity.

But mostly, Kirie tried to keep her focus on Eira. Their dancing was enjoyable and fun, but it didn't feel relaxed, nor balanced. Not because Eira couldn't dance, but because she was in the wrong place. Halfway through a particularly catchy number, Kirie met Eira's scarlet eyes.

"sorry, I am not used to following when dancing. Hopefully this isn't too awful for you."

"It's not awful for me." said Kirie truthfully. "But, I have an idea."

"Let's swap." Kirie announced. She raised an arm, but instead of Eira twirling, it was her who ducked under the apprentice's arm. She did a full rotation, almost slipping over on the dance floor at one point, before finishing the move in a dramatic dip, in which Eira would have to have her strong arms on her waist to hold her up. Kirie gave the girl a wide smile. "Perfect." she said, straightening up so she could now follow Eira's lead.

On Weik, Cephis had held a dance at the town hall during the harvest season each year. Kirie had entertained herself by confidently walking up the girls there and asking them to dance, once or twice even plucking them from their unfortunate partners. It was the one day of the year where she decided to shed her quiet shell. She'd always led then. It had become habit.

But habits didn't have to remain unchanged. Kirie let herself enjoy the feeling of being led through the moves, of Eira's hand on her waist. The song slowed down a touch, and she closed her eyes and swayed.

"This is better." Kirie said with a smile. "It suits you more." She liked Eira. She was quiet, like Kirie, and like Kirie, her shy exterior belied an interior... Something. She wasn't sure what, because she didn't think she'd broken Eira's walls down. But Kirie liked her on instinct, and she looked forward to getting to know her better.

"I get it!"

But the evening was full of distractions.

Kirie cracked a smile and looked over to see Tamsin melting down. Now that was a show she was sorry she was missing. The not-so-elaborate trap that Quinn had laid, and almost everyone had piled onto, had finally sprung. Judging from the look of horror on both Tamsin and Kaila's faces, it was quite the spectacle.

Kirie's eyes scanned the crown for Quinn, looking to see if she too was watching the starship wreck that was Tamsin and Kaila's tete-a-tete. But, when Kirie's eyes did fall on Quinn, she also saw a dark mop of hair. A figure making a dismissive gesture and turning to leave.

"No..." Kirie's expression tightened as he saw Malum stalking away from Quinn. "Sorry, Eira." said Kirie. "I need to see Quinn about something." She gestured for the young apprentice to follow, not wanting her to be left alone on the dancefloor which was becoming steadily more crowded with drunk partygoers. She marched up to Quinn, hopefully with Eira behind her, weaving her way between guests. When she got to the Princess, she threw up her hands in exasperation, shooting a look to Kaila, who had also just arrived beside her.

"Ignore him." said Kirie, rubbing Quinn's back comfortingly. "Stuck up little priss." Kirie turned her nose up. It was an insane thing to say of a man who could kill her without lifting a finger, but if the raven-haired Darth wanted to reject her Quinn, then she was all the better for it. Besides, she hadn't quite forgiven him for nearly burning her face off on Echnos, nevermind the fact that Quinn had almost done the same.

Kirie leaned in to whisper something in Quinn's ear, as if she wanted to tell her something discreet about what had just happened. In reality, Kirie was trying to distract her the way she knew best.

"Don't worry about him. You..." she whispered, just loud enough for Kaila to overhear too. "Are in so much trouble tonight." Kirie straightened up and gave Quinn a knowing smile. That ought to help get the dark cloud off her mind. Still, it was clear the interaction had left Quinn hurt. If she didn't want to tease anymore, that would be understandable.

Damn meddling Sith.

 

[Serina Calis]

Location 1.
Tags: Zahari Kaan Quinn Varanin Kaila Irons Tamsin Graves Kirie Eira Dyn ​

The moment Serina saw Quinn retreat to the edges of the ballroom, something inside her fractured.

It was subtle at first. A tightening in her chest, a slow, creeping sensation of wrongness that spread through her like a sickness. She had felt this before—this twisting in her gut, this unbearable weight pressing down on her ribs, suffocating her in silence. It was the feeling she had fought to ignore all night, the feeling she had buried beneath smiles and laughter and the thrill of a game well played.

Guilt.

The kind that couldn't be silenced, no matter how much she tried.

Her fingers clenched around the delicate stem of her glass as her golden eyes followed Quinn's form, the way she carried herself with that same grace, that same poise, even now, even as she tried to disappear.

She recognized that walk. She had lived that walk. The way someone carried themselves when they just needed to get away before their mask finally broke.

Serina's lips parted slightly, something sharp lodging itself in her throat, something she couldn't quite name, something she wasn't sure she wanted to name.

It wasn't her business.

Quinn had Kaila. Quinn had Kirie. Quinn had everyone—people who still deserved to be at her side.

Serina wasn't one of them.

Not anymore.

And yet—damn it all—before she could even think, her body moved on its own, her feet carrying her across the room, cutting through the crowd with a speed that betrayed the urgency clawing at her ribs.

It didn't matter that she had spent the night burying herself in distraction, in flirtations and empty words, in everything she thought would make her forget. It didn't matter that she had spent the past year convincing herself that this was for the best, that her presence would only make things worse.

Because seeing Quinn like this—seeing her slip away, alone—was something Serina couldn't stand.

She needed to say something. Do something. She didn't know what, but she would figure it out when she got there. She always did.

Serina pushed through the last of the guests, stepping out of the light and into the darkness where Quinn had sought refuge—

And stopped.

Because she wasn't alone.

Kaila was already there, moving with a kind of protectiveness that Serina hadn't seen in since their first encounter, as if the rest of the world had ceased to exist the moment Quinn had disappeared from view. And Kirie—sweet, quiet Kirie—was right beside her, voice soft, hands gentle, offering a comfort that Serina never could.

Serina's breath hitched.

She had been too late.

Not just tonight.

Always.

She had never been there when it mattered.

Not when Quinn needed her most. Not when she should have stayed, instead of running, instead of losing herself in the darkness she had embraced so willingly.

And now?

Now there was no place for her at Quinn's side.

There never would be.

A lump formed in her throat, heavy and unbearable. She took a step back—silent, shaking—her mind screaming at her to leave before anyone saw, before anyone noticed.

Before she noticed.

Serina turned on her heel and walked away, her movements swift, purposeful, but inside, she felt like she was shattering.

By the time she reached the outer edge of the ballroom, she wasn't even sure how she was still standing. Her hands trembled at her sides, her vision blurred, but she didn't stop, didn't hesitate, didn't breathe until she was outside, until the cold Naboo night air crashed into her like a tidal wave.

She exhaled sharply, pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes, willing herself to stop, to push it down, to bury it.

It didn't work.

None of this was supposed to matter anymore.

She had made her choice.

She had made her choice when she let herself become the monster she always swore she wouldn't be. When she had betrayed them, when she had played her part in horrors they would never forgive, when she had almost...

When she had almost killed them all.

Quinn had been right to leave her behind.

They all had.

And yet, for all her careful logic, for all her certainty that this was the way it had to be—

Why did it hurt so much?

Serina inhaled sharply, forcing herself to straighten.

She pulled out her comm and, with a flick of her wrist, activated the command for a speeder to take her back to her ship.

She didn't belong here.

She had never belonged here.

As the speeder arrived, she slid into the seat without a word, staring blankly out at the city lights of Naboo.

She would leave.

She wouldn't come back.

And maybe—maybe—this time, she would finally learn how to let go.

-END-​

 

[Trayze Tesar]

---

CURRENT MISSION - Love Drives All Men M.A.D.
Immediate Goals -
1: Kick her karkin' arse (SUCCEEDED - Against All Odds!)
1: To the Victor, go the spoils!
1.1: Survive the Afterparty (optional)
1.2: Reunite with Darth Malum of House Marr and/Or Quinn Varanin 's entourage
2: Make sure that Lirka Ka gets bandaged up, and pay for her damaged mask (optional)

BLUFOR - Darth Malum of House Marr

OPFOR - No enemies, just annoyances...

TARGETING ACTION(S) - Lirka Ka || OPEN FREQUENCY

---

A resounding whoop was heard in the courtyard as Trayze greedily and giddily clawed at the last broken pieces of the mask, flinging them aside as if he was ravaging Life Day present wrapping.

"Victory!" he roared, wordlessly adding adrenaline accentuated barks of laughter "It cost you defeat, and it cost me...!" he looked down, his head swimming as the cathartic crescendo of schadenfreude saturated his very being. But the hazy impulses and smug look on his face wasn't done... he held his face in his chin, humming as if considering a piece of artwork.

Objectively and aesthetically speaking, Lirka Ka wasn't bad looking per se - it's just the soul radiated outward her rather... unique personality. But he didn't care. He wiped the chemical streams of blood from her face, and he declared something that would further drive home the blade of romanticism triumphing over pettiness. "...All it cost me is a look at a pretty face."

With that, he laughed and cheered once more, dragging himself upwards, preparing himself to offer a hand up to the defeated party. "Good ga-agh!" Oh right. The nails in his flesh. They were still there - and perhaps still lodged deep as an awkward dance between the instincts around injury, good conduct, and his own spite interplayed off of one another. He hissed a few breaths between his teeth before helping Lirka up, whether she accepted it or not.

"Right right... don't worry, you can put it on my tab." He motioned to the half flung mask. "...But to the victor go the spoils - the first of many." that was a dangerously prideful remark, one that was foreign to the public persona and conduct he held himself to. Lirka Ka, if nothing else, saw the strange melding of high minded idealism and low cunning that was Trayze Tesar, "Firstly, you're bandaging me up, and Ah'll do th' same... and you gotta tell me yer manicurist!"

 

[Lirka Ka]

His glee was like scratching in her ears. Really? That much excitement for a meager little bout in a sorry excuse for an arena? He should saved his excitement for Besberra, where they could actually fight. For each piece of the mask he yanked away, soft metal cracking away or being bent aside.

Her angry visage becoming more visible with each tug. Lirka was an odd creature, unnatural, uncanny. Like a living statue, skin that was far too smooth, features too sharp, and a distinct lack of any asymmetry. But, odd features made perfect for the odd personality of a mass murderer.

“Yes, Trayze Tesar your grand victory is upon you-“

As if to accent her point, she tightened her grip on him. Letting those nails sink just a little bit deeper into his flesh.

“-A cheap shot too. I’m surprised. I didn’t think you had it in you, Captain Tesar. A dirty scrapper wearing a veneer of being kind and honorable. Loathe as I am to admit it…my son would have been very fond of you.”

And with that, she let go of him. Taking the time to admire her handiwork, even if it wasn’t anything particularly impressive. The longer he could look into her eyes, the more obvious it became they were dyed. Unnatural blue, and the whites of her replaced with a deep midnight black. The more he flirted the more disgust appeared across her visage, but unfortunately: the rules were the rules, Lirka was forced to have at least some respect for him now.

She allowed him the chance to raise her back up, shooting daggers at him the more he yammered about tabs. She raised her hands, with a few clicks and clacks she loosed the remained chunks of her mask and tossed it to him.

“Since you evidently want it so bad. Keep it. I have little desire to reforge an ornamental thing like that, I am not a Moff anymore.”

She barked a laugh at the mere thought of bandaging up. These Sith, such odd people. Then again, not everyone was blessed with the abilities to clot like Lirka could.

“I think I will not, Trayze Tesar. Wear your wounds with pride like a real warrior, it won’t kill you. This place is too clean for that.”

She began to walk, yes, the victor did get the spoils…but that did mean Lirka got to pick drinks. And she had more livers than he did, last she recalled.

“Why would I have a manicurist? I forge my own weapons, I sculpt my own armor, and by the Dark I sharpen my own damn Nails, Captain.”

She was evidently in a much more swell mood after their bout, she despised him, utterly, deeply, for every bit of his idealism was foul and unholy: totally against the edicts of the Dark. But he fought well, and that was enough for Lirka to allow a chummy joke here and there. And loathe as she was to admit it, and she certainly would never publicly, this was pretty fun: in its own miserable way.

 

[Tigris]

Objective: BYOO
Location: Main Ballroom
Outfit: Dress
Tag; Everest Vale

Tigris' dark gaze drank in the ivory features of the beautiful Echani, watched as the girl's silvery eyes sparkled in the light of the chandeliers. As well as she had known her, so far, those pristine features still held much Tigris didn't know. Eve was an undiscovered country, their relationship equally uncharted. There was an excitement in that, in knowing she could enjoy learning more and more about Everest. And it seemed, they had come to an unspoken realization. Tigris was not one for words, when no words were necessary. In that moment, they were not. The richness of their shared gaze said it all, only hinting at depths that offered both promise and the unknown.

It was sealed with another kiss, this time Everest's, as if both had penned upon some ethereal parchment a promise of their hearts to one another. A fire stirred in Tigris' core. It was a desire ignited for Everest, and with it came sentiments that were almost frightening, as she considered that there was not a thing she wouldn't do for that girl.

Tigris took a cleansing breath, or risk being consumed by that fire. She gave a rare smile to Everest, her arms still holding her close, their bodies swaying to the music. That breath brought it the unique and fragrant scents that clung to Everest. The song ended, and Tigris reluctantly released Everest.

"How about another drink and we go to the garden." Tigris suggested, finding she needed some fresh air. The tattooed padawan's hand slid down Eve's slender arm again to take her hand. There was no question now, Eve was hers, her girl. The thought of it made the former assassin feel good, warm... happy.

 

[Tamsin Graves]

Theme: Girls Just Want to Have Fun
Dress: Here
Tags: Alana Calloway | Kaila Irons
Nearby: Quinn Varanin | Eira Dyn | Kirie

It was strange how with alcohol the truth came out as Tamsin heard disappointment in her sisters voice towards not seizing power for herself or over herself. Tamsin wanted to remind her sister that it was her who told her to be cautious and guarded around other sith. Yet it did not feel right to call her out not after what had transpired already.

"Yes, I understand." Was all she said with a head nod.

<<Laugh while you still can, skin-thief... If she can't eat you, I will. Your fate was sealed the moment you laid hands upon my sister.>>

"I created the one you call sister. No matter what you do, or she does to me, it is a fate you can not fight, she is me." ​

Tamsin watched as her half-drunk sister spun around and ran into a tall blonde woman with striking red eyes. Tamsin stared up at Alana Calloway and then to her absent-minded sister who seemed bit out of it like she had been flustered by something Tamsin had said unaware the demon had spoken to her.

"Myabe…" Nope she stopped herself as Kaila projected herself into Tamsins mind. Tamsin's eyes looked at the underworld tattoo's she hadn't noticed before. "What do I say….." she projected back.

She looked at the Echani and again at Kaila as she suggested a dance between the two. Then the damn woman ran off again. God dammit Tamsin thought to herself as her sister went off to get a drink or whatever. She looked up at Alana nervously, still very red in the face from her embarrassment.

"I am so sorry for my sister……she has a habit of abandoning me with strangers. My Name is Tamsin and that was Kaila." She pointed in the general direction her sister had gone.

"You don't have to dance with me if you don't want?" She said as her sister telepathy broke through telling her what to talk about. "Thanks…." She replied mentally back dripping with sarcasm even in thought.

"I like your dress and your tattoo's." God that was stupid, she had no idea what the hell she was doing but she figured best it be awkward for her rather than Alana. "You want a drink? I hope I am not bothering you, I can go if you want?" Nope that was probably worse, this woman was clearly in a bit of a state Tamsin could see that about her.

 

[Alana Calloway]

.​

Zinder Event​

​

Tags: Tamsin Graves , Kaila Irons​

Outfit: Here​

​

Alana blinked, her mind catching up to the flurry of movement, the half-drunk sister spinning off into the crowd, and the wide-eyed woman now standing in front of her, looking like she was ready to melt into the floor from sheer secondhand embarrassment. She felt herself being pulled from the struggles of her own indentity, and be refocused on the two clowns before her.

For a beat, she just stared, then dropped open her mouth to speak, shaking her head. She seemed flabbergasted. "You're not bothering me," She spoke, voice smoother now, a little emotional , a little tired. "And don't worry about your sister. I’m, sure she’ll be just fine…."

Her red gaze flicked over Tamsin, taking her in—not just the nervous energy, but the way she kept second-guessing herself, the way she seemed determined to bear the awkwardness herself rather than let Alana feel uncomfortable. It was… oddly endearing. But what…did she want? Was this a joke or-

"I like your dress and your tattoo's."

Oh.

Was…this genuine?

Alana glanced down at herself briefly, then back up, lips quirking into something resembling a smirk. "Thanks. Didn't think anyone would notice the tattoos….” Her fingers brushed absently over one of them, shyly, this new onset of compliments having caught her off guard. "You…like my dress? Well, you look….nice too, if we're handing out compliments."

She tilted her head slightly at the offer. "I wouldn't say no to a drink. But only if you're drinking too—I don't like drinking, well not alone, not anymore." A pause, then, softer, "And if you want to dance… I won't stop you."

There was something unreadable in her gaze, something guarded, but she wasn't pushing Tamsin away. Not yet. She managed a weak smile, sniffling back what could have been the first of many tears just now. “I’m….Alana.” She awkwardly raised a hand to Tamsin. “And….I have no idea how to dance….so…go easy on me?”

 

[Eira Dyn]

​

Location: Naboo
Outfit: Dress
Equipment: Hidden daggers
Tag: Kirie | Quinn Varanin | Kaila Irons | Tamsin Graves | Alana Calloway

Kirie helped Eira with the dancing by allowing Eira to lead instead of herself. It was an awkward feeling for Eira since it was the more comfortable role for herself however, she didn't wish to disappoint Kirie. Eira had just always been someone who enjoyed control and taking charge in a situation. She was even like it towards Quinn in a manner. She used her flirty nature and advances to hide her doubts, her weaknesses. It was bravado that she held to ensure she held the upper hand.

Eira dreaded the idea of not being the one in charge of a situation, or at least not holding onto some form of control. It was how she could not understand the love between Quinn, Kirie and Kaila, there was some for of surrender and vulnerability that Eira just didn't feel she could ever allow herself to do. It was allowing someone too much power and it was only asking for further hurt and harm.

Guiding the slow dance, Eira kept it platonic but playful and fun, moving more confidently to the beat. Demonstrating her abilities with dancing as she swayed around the room with Kirie. "Thanks, you are dancing well, yourself." Eira grinned to Kirie as they moved.

Hearing Tamsin shouting and sensing the awkwardness with both Tamsin and Kaila, Eira could only chuckle. She was sure that did not wish to trade places with poor Tamsin in that moment. However, she knew that she was more likely to make Kaila blush more than feel embarrassed herself, if she was forced to trade places. There were times she knew that she had to wonder how much Quinn knew of the birds and bees conversation compared to Eira.

Then she saw Quinn depressed and hurt over the conversation with Malum. Someone that knew was being added to her list of inflicting harm upon for causing her Master any form of suffering. However, Kirie had noticed it too and it was the cause of an abrupt end to their dance. "No. I understand. See to her. Both you and Kaila need to soothe the pain." Eira mentioned, not hiding the fact that she knew how deep and close the connection between the three ladies was. There was no point in being subtle since it was very clear to her the relationship.

Eira did wonder if this was why opening oneself up was dangerous. Quinn was hurt by someone she was close with once again. It had been Alina after Susevfi and now it was Malum.

Was the pain really worth it?

Eira looked around, moving away from the dance floor now that she was alone. Wondering what to do.

<Open to interaction>

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Darth Nefaron
​

Cora's brow furrowed at Nefaron's mocking applause. A faint groan of metallic prosthesis accompanied the motion of him kneeling beside her.

Now, up close, she could better see what a physically fragile being he was. That fragility ended rather abruptly, blunted and bolstered by the Dark miasma around him.

Sometimes, she had to marvel at the sheer breadth of the Force. The same weave that could levitate a pebble also empowered a scarred, broken body into the terrible might of a Sith Lord.

Cora withdrew her hand from the flowering vine as he spoke, fixing her attention on Nefaron. It was a grim tale - one all too common, one that reached nearly every corner of the galaxy. That it was so frequent did not make it any less sad; if anything, it made her expression crease in true, genuine sympathy. The monster before her had not been born as such. Nefaron has been shaped by tragic circumstance.

"I'm sorry about your mother," she said, careful to keep pity from seeping into her condolence.

Her gaze drifted to his extended hand, ashen and alluring. Cora's hesitation was plain. Ever the student, ever seeking knowledge and experience, but the kind Nefaron was offering? The Dark side had captivating qualities.

Slowly, carefully, she extended her flesh hand. Pale scars across delicate fingers painted a sharp contrast with the weathered digits of the Corpse Lord.

Centimeters from touching, she stilled. Cora pulled her hand back sharply, and the spiner plant she'd grown lashed between them, thorny tendrils seeking even the barest scratch against his palm.

Which would prove to be more toxic; the plant's poison, or Nefaron's blood?

"I'd rather not," she said dryly.

 

[Everest Vale]

Objective: BYOO
Location: Main Ballroom
Outfit: Dress & Necklace
Tag: Tigris

Eve's tender heart fluttered wildly, and hummed with a warmth she had never felt before. It was intoxicating. Tigris was intoxicating. Eve's face ached from how much and how widely she had been smiling, but she hadn't the care in the world. The galaxy felt suddenly lighter, brighter, thoroughly illuminated and eternal. She felt as though with every step towards the gardens, she was several feet higher than normal, as if she was floating effortlessly through the air.

The two made their way outside, a fresh glass at hand. The growing evening was calm and cool, a gentle breeze sending soft, refreshing wisps against Eve's pale skin. As they took a seat at a bench by one of the many elegant water features, she could see the 'Echani fighters' in the distance. It didn't even bother her that they were just off-world actors in wigs who probably just watched a few holo-vid tutorials. In fact, a soft chuckle escape her from how silly it all was, how silly everything in the galaxy was, compared to what she finally had.

Humming gently, she leaned against Tigris, resting her head on her shoulder and her hand on her leg, as the healing sound of the fountains blended in the air with the assorted chatter and laughter of guests and the delicate wash of strings coming from the mansion, creating what felt like the warm ambience only heard in a sweet dream.

She didn't say anything, nor did she feel she needed to. She simply relished her warm embrace, and the sense of safety and calm she had never felt before that washed over her, wave after wave. The rest of the galaxy melted away, forgotten in her warmth, lost in the bond that now flourished between them. All of her fears had crumbled into dust. Every anxiety faded in a way it never had done before.

Because whilst in her arms, nothing else mattered.

​