Populate A Winter's Blessing | THR Life and Name Day Thread [Resource Hex]

[Makai Dashiell]

OVLI MARKET

Wearing | Gear : X | X | X | X | X | L3-37 | Interacting With : Myra Arceneau Dashiell

"He would love a bota shrub in a nice little pot. How I am with ores and minerals he is with herbs and various plants."

The one little nugget he did know about his half-brother. Makai never asked how he got into it but everyone had their hobbies. Maybe a spark of something growing up - a class or something. Balun did grow up in with the Jedi and maybe it was one of those things that brought solace or he was just plain good at.

Their purchase was going to be quite large, basically their entire shopping beyond Kellan had been wiped out in one small stop. Growing up with wealth and now expanding his own companies, these were the types of gifts the family preferred. It was possibly why he enjoyed a hand stitched journal each Life Day. Makai just hoped a certain wife remembered it had been their tradition since they were teenagers.

The booth owner was totaling and packaging their purchases, with Makai handing over his credcard as Ellie asked what else he wanted to see.

A small smirk graced his features as he leaned in close to his wife. Voice was low as he spoke, his words only meant for her ears.

"A locked door. Fireplace. Wine. Clothing optional." The half-Galan straightened, tossing a small wink in her direction as he did so. Voice returned to a normal volume as he was done teasing her. "Other than that, nothing at all. Just enjoying the night out with a refined beauty."

Credcard returned, Makai was now saddled with one large and relatively heavy bag of breakable items. Luckily they were wrapped. Hands though on his end were full, one with the bag and one with the hot toddy. No ability to hold Ellie's hand - which he didn't like. They always held hands but especially in crowds. A small hold over from the days when she had horrific social anxiety.

Nearly empty hot toddy container went into the nearest trash receptacle and he reached out for her once again.

"What about you? Take advantage, you've got a strikingly handsome husband to carry all your packages for the evening."

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Aurelian Veruna | Open

The lanternlight softened his face into something incandescent as he spoke of his surprise. Even his certainty that it would be appreciated, that authenticity was appreciated despite what others may express, no longer held the shape of ego made armor. Adelle shook her head when he listed all the qualities that made her more than okay company, and offered a mock half-bow when he judged her as being above average.

"I aim to please," she said playfully. Phantom flicked her tail as she straightened back up, claws digging into the jacket to keep her seat. Adelle offered a chin rub as a peace offering. She didn't miss the eyebrow raise but he took the bait of the joke, either deliberately or unwittingly. Either way, it meant she didn't have to find a not-sad way to tell the truth.

His reaction to the holovid had been exactly what she'd been expecting, minus his hypothetical inclusion. Adelle couldn't imagine the interim High Chancellor having time enough--or desire enough--to visit some no name Mandalorian in a drab apartment to watch the absurdity of the holiday holovid and nearly drink himself into a stupor. Still, Aurelian seemed to enjoy the idea so much he'd begun to muse on the types of holovids they'd make about him, certainly building up the more heroic aspects of himself.

"I hope they at least get my hair right."

Adelle scoffed then with a straight face said "Don't worry, I'll make sure they don't."

Aurelian's comments on Life Day traditions made her smile, even as sadness twinged in her heart. She'd only been able to celebrate that particular tradition with Na'an once before the Planeshift separated them, but it had become one of her most cherished memnii. The bad ones had outweighed the good ones for so long but the scales were finally starting to even out.

She had to raise her own eyebrows when he said he expected an invitation for a drinking game while viewing the hypothetical holovid of his own life. But she scoffed at his declaration.

"I'm a Corellian," she said with a smirk. "You'd be better off pacing yourself. But if we're talking hypothetical holovids, you know they're just going to be about Sibylla coming along behind you and doing the real work of saving the day, while you lose the throne of Naboo to a spukami in a battle of wits."

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

​

Objective I - Lights of the Ovli Market
Outfit: x | Equipment: x x x x | Tag: Makai Dashiell

Myra slipped in close as the booth owner finished packing their purchases, easing her arm around Makai's waist withi a grin. It replaced the handholding without losing any of the closeness, her hip settling against his side like it had always belonged there.

Then he was so utterly brazen in his silly nerdy way. She laughed, brows wagging as her grey eyes danced.

"Do threaten me with a good time," she quipped back in a teasing tone. "Really just laying it all out there."

She lifted her head, eyes dancing as she met his wink with one of her own.

As he ditched the empty cup and reached for her again, she stayed tucked into his side, perfectly content to enjoy the scenery and walk. After a second Myra tilted her head, considering the lantern-lit market around them, then glanced back at him with a mischievous smile.

"So," she said lightly, "more shopping… or do we head back to the hotel and enjoy that fireplace you so vividly described?"

Her arm tightened just a touch around his waist.

"I'm flexible."

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Tags: Adelle Bastiel

When she promised to sabotage his future casting, he placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. "Cruel," he replied. "Absolutely cruel. I entrust you with historical accuracy and this is how you repay me." His smile softened it, sharp at the edges but warm underneath. "Though I suppose suffering builds character. They'll probably cast someone brooding with terrible posture just to humble me."

Her comment about Sibylla earned a low, knowing hum. "Ah yes. The inevitable revisionist cut," he said. "Two hours of her fixing disasters while I stride dramatically into rooms and make speeches." He tilted his head, considering. "Entirely plausible. Though I'd like it noted that losing Naboo to a spukami in a battle of wits would require the spukami to be exceptionally clever. Or cheating."

He gestured with his mug. "Also, for the record, I would absolutely demand a rematch."

The snow continued to fall around them, softening the edges of the market, the noise fading into something distant and almost peaceful. Aurelian slowed, then stopped, his expression shifting as something unseen tugged at his attention. He reached beneath his coat cuff and flicked his wrist, revealing a slim chronowatch that gleamed even in the lanternlight. Old. Immaculate. Obscenely expensive.

He checked the time and sighed. "That would be my cue," he said. "Ten to whatever the Dowager Princess currently wants from the Chancellor."

He tucked the watch away and glanced back at Adelle. "You are welcome to join me, if you like. Fair warning, though. There will be politics. There may be passive aggression. And there will definitely be pastries that look innocent and are not."

A corner of his mouth lifted. "If nothing else, you can observe the spectacle and confirm for yourself whether future holovids exaggerate my suffering."

He gestured back toward the lights and music. "Your call. Either way, I'm glad you came tonight."

​

 

[Elian Abrantes]

Isla Reingard Phillip Slate
​

Elian let out a low chuckle, rubbing at his chest where Isla's palm had landed, more amused than offended. He lifted one shoulder in an easy shrug, snow slipping from the fabric of his coat as if the whole collision had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

"Oh, I'm more than sure you remember me, especially since you remembered my nickname." he said lightly, mouth curving into that familiar, effortless grin. "I tend to leave an impression. Whether that's good or bad remains to be seen."

His gaze slid past her then, attention shifting as Phillip. . Elian's smile softened just a fraction as he tipped his head toward him. "I was actually saying hi to your friend," he added, nodding once in Phillip's direction.

He watched as Phillip took his jacket off and tossed it at her..

Elian watched the exchange, hands lifting briefly in a helpless, almost theatrical shrug. "See?" he said, tone breezy. "Crisis management. Team effort."

He rocked back on his heels, entirely too relaxed for someone who had just been bowled over in the middle of the market, the noise and music swelling back around them. Snow clung to his hair, his coat damp, but none of it seemed to bother him. Typical Elian, carefree, unfazed, he offered Isla one last crooked smile.

"Could've been worse," he added. "You really should find some dry clothes though or at least go and find someplace warm. Some hot chocolate would be good, I had to put my in my brothers hands when I started running. Either of you want one?"

 

[Cassian Abrantes]

Shade ​

Cassian felt the thanks land with more weight than the words themselves suggested. He didn't look at her right away, kept his attention forward as the market opened up before them, lanterns drifting overhead like captured stars, laughter and music weaving through the cold air. But his grip on his own mug tightened just slightly, as if to anchor the moment where it was.

"You're welcome," he said easily, the tone light enough to pass in a crowd, but honest all the same.

His gaze drifted to the stalls as they passed, woven scarves, carved ornaments, vendors calling out cheerfully to anyone who'd listen. Life Day at its best. Warmth layered over winter. People choosing, just for a night, to believe things could be gentler.

"Elian will circle back eventually," Cassian added after a moment, faint amusement threading his voice. "Probably triumphant. Possibly chased."

He glanced sideways at her then, catching the glow of lantern-light in her eyes. "But he'll be fine. He always is."

"We should pick a spot to watch this meteor shower event? What do you think?"

 

[Aiden Porte]

Arhiia Voronwe​

Aiden watched the younglings scatter toward the cocoa stand like a liberated battalion, mittens flapping, boots sliding, laughter trailing behind them in bright streaks of sound. The battlefield was suddenly quiet, just drifting snow and the soft hum of lanterns.

Then Arhiia turned toward him. He felt the shift immediately, the way the air gentled around her, the way her steps slowed as she crossed the remaining distance. Snowflakes clung to her braid. Her cloak brushed the snow with every step. And when she reached him, her hand rose, light, careful, warm, as she brushed a single snowflake from his cheek. The kiss that followed was soft enough to still him completely.

Heat bloomed beneath his skin, spreading through his chest in a slow, steady wave that felt almost too large for the moment. He didn't move. Didn't breathe. He simply stood there in the snowfall, absorbing the quiet truth pressed into that one gentle touch.

Her whispered 'Thank you' landed heavier than the kiss.

It wasn't gratitude for play or theatrics, it was gratitude for presence. For partnership and for a a life he never thought he'd get to live. Perhaps she thought that too.

Aiden's breath left him in a soft exhale, visible in the cold air. When she nudged his leg with her cane and accused him, laughing, of ambushing her, he finally came back to himself, a helpless smile breaking across his face. "Ambush?" he echoed, hand lifting instinctively to rest over the place where she'd kissed him. "You started a war, General. I merely acted in self-defense."

His voice softened as he stepped closer, just enough that her cloak brushed his again, just enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her beneath the cold. "But," he added, eyes lingering on hers, "I suppose calling a truce for cocoa is a wise command decision." He glanced toward the stall where their "troops" were already causing a mild, joyful disaster for the poor vendor. A faint laugh escaped him.

"They're going to drink the stand dry."

He reached out, gloved hand touching lightly at her arm, not pulling, not guiding, simply connecting, and tilted his head toward the path.

"Come on," he murmured. "We can't let them claim all the rations. And I should probably protect the vendor from whatever they're plotting."

A step, then another, falling naturally into stride beside her. As they walked through the gently falling snow, Aiden cast her a sideways glance, warm, full of quiet truth.

"So you know," he said softly, "You don't need to thank me. This…all of this…I want it just as much as you do."

 

[Isla Reingard]

The jacket smacked Isla square in the chest.

She stared at it. Then at Phillip. Then back at the jacket, hanging half off her arm like an accusation.

"You..." she started, then stopped, incredulous. Her mouth opened, closed. She huffed a sharp laugh and peeled it off herself before tossing it straight back at him.

"No. Absolutely not," she said firmly. "I am not accepting guilt outerwear."

She pointed at him with one cold finger. "You're not throwing your jacket at me like that, it's dramatic and unnecessary."

Her gaze slid to Elian, already bracing herself. The grin. The shrug. The effortless ease of him standing there like this had been a fun story instead of a collision.

"Also," Isla added, jabbing a thumb between the two men, "since you're clearly very interested in Phillip and his crisis management skills, maybe the two of you should go hang out. Get hot chocolate. Bond. Talk about teamwork."

She rolled her eyes so hard it almost hurt.

"As for me? I'm done with axes for the moment. I need something quieter and less likely to involve being tackled."

She turned, already walking away, boots crunching in the snow. "I'm going to try archery. If I miss a target, at least it won't throw me into another person."

She glanced back once, braid swinging. "Don't follow me unless someone else steals something."

Phillip Slate | Elian Abrantes​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti Acier Moonbound Varin Mortifer​

Acier seemed to be holding back, sure; not intentionally so, if he had to guess and it wasn’t something he really cared to unpack at the moment.

“A victory I wasn’t prepared for..”

Lysander’s mind still insisted that physics should have listened. The angle, release, the very moment the rotation betrayed him. Then.. Naniti raised her hand. His brain wanted to refuse that too. Of course he recognized the Neti. Madrona A’Mia had been something like an older sister to him for a while now.

“Nice.”

His expression of mirth stalled.. ready for complete cognitive derailment. Brows knit together to display the confusion, and his eyes flicked between the hologram and Nanit. He looked at the projector. Back to Naniti. Back to the projector. What the feth?

There were.. so many questions. For all the places they’d crossed together, from frozen worlds to spaces that ate the Light for sport, he was pretty sure this was the first time he had ever seen her produce a holoprojector. And so casually at that. Had she been waiting to use it. Was this live? Was A’Mia actually watching right now? Had Naniti planned this exact moment sometime between the second and third throw?

Warmth bubbled up through the teen’s chest and broke into a laugh. He couldn’t help but shake his head. “Be honest. How long have you been carrying that?” His voice was threaded with laughter too. “There are moments when I think I understand you fairly well. Then you do something like that..”

Well, might as well take it as encouragement for a third throw. He reached for another axe when Acier caught his attention. Lysander watched it land and nodded.

“That’s the one.”

His focus wasn’t fully there, not the way it usually was when any type of competition took hold. This time, he didn’t throw as hard, hoping the motion would stay.. loose? A gentler arc allowed the blade to meet the wood with a thud. But it was caught only for a second before dropping back into the snow. So, he turned around once more, expression still light, unbothered by the result. Either way, he found himself in good company, all things considered. With Sith roaming Ukatis, things could have been bloodier.

 

[Shade]

Shade listened as they walked, the sounds of the festival folding around them without demanding her focus. Lanternlight reflected off glass and snow alike, but her attention remained steady, attuned to the subtler rhythms beneath the celebration—the flow of the crowd, the open spaces between stalls, the way Cassian adjusted his pace without thinking when she slowed.

At the mention of Elian, the corner of her mouth lifted just slightly. Not a smile meant to be seen, but one that existed all the same.

"He usually is," she said calmly. "Persistent, if nothing else."

Her gaze followed the line of his gesture toward the darker edge of the city, where the light thinned, and the sky widened. The idea of it—distance, quiet, something unscheduled—settled comfortably rather than raising caution.

"Crowds thin near the eastern terraces," she added after a moment, tone measured, practical without losing warmth. "The stone absorbs less light there. Better visibility."

She adjusted her path just enough that their shoulders nearly brushed, close without touching, the choice deliberate. When she looked at him again, the lanternlight caught in her eyes, steady and intent.

"A clear view would be…acceptable," she said, the faintest trace of dry humor threading through the words. "Meteor showers don't wait for anyone."

She turned her gaze back toward the flow of the festival, already orienting herself, already moving.

"Lead the way."

Cassian Abrantes

 

[Makai Dashiell]

OVLI MARKET....BUT NOT FOR LONG

Wearing | Gear : X | X | X | X | X | L3-37 | Interacting With : Myra Arceneau Dashiell


"Oh, I didn't lay it all out. There will be surprises."

Makai teased back, gently guiding her through the market, bag in his other hand. The market had been fun with the chance to walk around, drink, and enjoy one another's company. Yet there was a certain allure about not wasting a completely perfect date night. With Life Day quickly descending upon them the half-Galan highly doubted they would have another night alone for several weeks. Not that any one of the grandparents couldn't be bribed sooner.

"No, I think I've had my fill of shopping. I'd rather experience this flexibility thing you've mentioned."

EXIT POST

 

[Kiran Arlos]

Persephone Dashiell
​

Kiran let out a warm huff of laughter at her mention of thermal underwear, the sound soft but genuine, fogging faintly in the cold air. Trust Persephone to deliver practicality with perfect deadpan. He shook his head lightly, still amused, as they continued along the quieter fringe of the market.

Spotting a smaller vendor stall with only a short line, he guided them toward it with an easy gesture. The scents of cocoa and toasted sugar drifted from the counter, less chaotic than the earlier booth, and mercifully free of shouting customers. He ordered two hot chocolates without hesitation, handing one to her once the drinks were ready, his fingers brushing hers just briefly in the exchange.

Only then did he answer her question, gaze drifting upward toward the snow-muted sky.

"They say the meteors burn silver-blue. Really bright. Like they cut across the sky instead of falling." He shrugged lightly. "I've never seen it myself, though. So…it might be worth the cold."

He glanced at Persephone again, softer this time.

"And hey, if it ends up being disappointing, at least we'll have hot chocolate and no burlap-related tragedies nearby."

 

[Phillip Slate]

Tags: Isla Reingard Elian Abrantes

"I'm not giving it to her for crisis management! I'm giving it to her becau-"

Before Phillip could properly respond, the jacket was thrown back at Phillip, where it'd just fall and land on the cold snow. His eyes fixed on his jacket for a moment, as his attempt to be kind was thrown right back into his face. The Padawan was speechless, as he stuttered to himself, trying to figure out something to say. And the final nail in the coffin for Phillip's enjoyment of the day. Isla was practically passing him off to a stranger. Telling the pair not even to follow her.

"But...but...I...I asked you to come...so...we could have a...fun time..."

By that point, it was pointless as Isla had already walked off, but Phillip had visibily deflated. His entire goal for the day had just been for him and Isla to have fun. Sure the axethrowing hadn't been a huge part of his plan, but he had wanted them to enjoy the day. And it had blown up into his face. She had gotten her bag stolen. His jacket had practically been thrown in his face. And now he was abandoned with some strange.

"...Worse...Day...Ever"

He grumbled to himself, grabbing his jacket off the snow and just balling it up to hold under his arm as opposed to wearing it. Turning his gaze over towards Elian, not making much of an effort on his part to hide how he was feeling.

"...No hot chocolate for me."

 

[Makko Vyres]

It always felt a little strange to be addressed as royalty - largely because her position was ceremonial by design. That didn't mean it lacked power, but she had to be careful in the direction it was wielded. For one evening, though, she could enjoy the way Ukatis honored the life she was about to bring unto it.

Makko’s shoulders had started to ache from nodding and thanking well wishes. It brought him great joy to have so many people come to celebrate their child, but he wasn't to sitting still for public events like Cora.

The generosity had been remarkable. He might have felt a touch of embarrassment, but also a warmth for the joy and care on show.

The crowd was bright and loud and full of smiling faces, but when he glanced across at Cora, all of that shrank into a distant hum.

She had handled herself all day with grace and dignity.

Makko reached out and wrapped an arm across her shoulders. He didn't care how Ukatis nobles were supposed to maintain decorum, he tilted his head against hers.

“We should step away from this for a moment,” he murmured, voice low enough only for her ears, soft and warm against the festive din.

"You'll get sore sitting there all day."

His hand brushed her back in a slow, soothing circle once.

And with a quiet contentment he let his thoughts slip from the crowd and the day. He thought of Cora, closento him, and everything they had ahead of them.

"Walk the market for a while with me?" he offered.

 

[Elian Abrantes]

Isla Reingard Phillip Slate
​

Elian watched the jacket get rejected with surgical precision. The whole exchange earned Elian a quiet, helpless laugh under his breath. He scrubbed a hand through his hair, snow scattering, and shook his head once, half disbelief, half admiration.

Bold move, tossing the jacket, he thought. Brave. Foolish. Definitely doomed.

"Guilt outerwear?" Elian repeated faintly, tasting the words like they might be useful later.

He lifted both hands in surrender as Isla's attention snapped back to him, palms out, shoulders rising in an easy, unapologetic shrug. The grin was already there, unrepentant, bright, and just this side of trouble. "Hey, I didn't say anything," he replied lightly, even as she absolutely did say several things, all of them pointed. "You're the one assigning us bonding exercises."

He glanced over to Phillip and patted him on the shoulder. Elian flicked him a sideways glance and offered a sympathetic tilt of the head. "You did your best. Have you considered maybe that.....she's just a jerk?"

As Isla stalked off, boots crunching with purpose, Elian turned slightly to follow her retreating form, not chasing, not disobeying, just watching.

"Archery," he murmured, amused. "Of course." When she threw the warning over her shoulder, Elian laughed outright this time, low and warm, carrying just enough to be heard without challenging it.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he called after her. "Try not to lose anyone else you chase."

It seemed like Habachi, Hiboshi, whatever their name was had ruined the day. Not Elian's though, some more hot chocolate and perhaps a peek at the meteor shower. That was good enough for him to enjoy.

 

[Liana Organa]

Sibylla Abrantes - Dominique Vexx - Roman Vossari​

"Hm. I'll keep it in mind…" Liana couldn't say much more on the matter. At the end of the day, she was just a teenager still learning the ropes. Burning bridges already would not be a great start to her record as an ambassador, junior or otherwise. Sibylla trusted Dominique, so she couldn't be that bad… right?

"How is are King Organa and Queen Organa faring?"

As her thoughts turned to her parents, Liana's expression became forlorn, "…We don't hear much from Dad. He's been out in former Alliance space pretty much ever since the Empire invaded Arkania, leading recovery efforts. Mom's been spearheading things back on Alderaan. Not really her forté," A slight chuckle, "But she's making it work." It meant stepping away from her duties as a Jedi, but Alderaan needed its leadership in place. So right now, Amani Serys-Organa was the sole presiding monarch and Queen.

"The Empire is on the border, but they haven't made any direct moves against Alderaan. There's not much we can do, I guess. Other than prepare for the worst, and hope for the best."

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

​

Objective I - Lights of the Ovli Market
Outfit: x | Equipment: x x x x | Tag: Makai Dashiell

"Surprises?" Myra laughed softly, tilting her head just enough to give him a look that promised curiosity and trouble in equal measure. "You really do enjoy living dangerously, Makai Dashiell."

She tucked herself closer to his side, arm still snug around his waist, fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket as if to make sure he couldn't wander off with those promises still hanging in the air.

"Well then," she murmured, voice soft with amusement, "far be it from me to deny you an experience."

Grey eyes flicked up to his in a playful and affectionate expression.

"Shopping can wait. Flexibility, however, sounds like it requires immediate attention."

She gave him a gentle squeeze and nudged him forward with a wink.

"Hope you hydrated plenty today... you are gonna need it!"

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Aurelian Veruna | Open

Aurelian's assertions made her smile as she drank from her mug again. They fell into silence, something quiet and relaxed, as they wandered around the edge of the market. Adelle stopped half a step after Aurelian paused, looking at a very shiny, very expensive-looking chronometer. Idly she wondered how many contracts she'd have to do on average to afford something like that. And her guesstimate was far too many to be worth it.

Oh how the wealthy lived.

He sighed and explained, Adelle nodding along. Yeah, she figured he was overdue to return--you could only play hooky for so long, even in politics, it seemed. His invitation piqued her interest. Politics weren't something she really wanted to get involved with. But pastries that looked innocent but weren't? That was promising. When he mentioned the spectacle of his own suffering, Adelle smirked back.

"You had my curiosity with the food," she said. "But now you have my attention. Sure, I'll bear witness to this 'spectacle of suffering.' For historical accuracy's sake."

Adelle searched his face as he made his claim of being glad she was here, taking a good, long drink from her mug to hide most of it. Was he really? He did seem relaxed, if not as relaxed as he'd been on Zeltros, and there had been moments in their conversation where he seemed genuine. Phantom pawed at the collar to her jacket and Adelle absently raised a hand to rub the spukami's head.

"This was a good decision on my part," she said. "Maybe I'll crash more of your parties. If you survive the imminent politics. I'll wait among the crowd so I don't cramp your style."