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



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TAGS: Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania Makko Vyres Makko Vyres

The birth of a child was, in cathar culture, considered a celebration for the whole tribe. Jonyna had already had hers for her triplets, whom were currently hold up in the Reaper, excited to see their auntie again.

For now though, she let Dice look after them.

She was here to talk to a woman she saw as a sister, in a lot of ways.

As she approached, she paused, blinking for a moment. She had to think if she had met Makko. Sure, she'd talked to Cora about him, but she couldn't remember if she had met him properly.

Might as well assume you haven't, Jonyna.

"Hey Cora." Jonyna smiled as she approaches. "And, I take it you're Makko? I don't remember if we've met. I've had a busy last few months."

 


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Objective I - Lights of the Ovli Market
Interacting with: Dominique Vexx Dominique Vexx
Mood: It is nice to catch up

Sibylla listened with a soft, widening smile, the corners of her hazel eyes creasing with genuine warmth as Dominique described Denon's Life Day celebrations, full of neon lights and holoshows instead of snow.

"I can picture it," Sibylla's breath curling faintly in the cold as she thought back of all the neon lights and holos at the club, her smile growing as Dominique caught a snowflake of her own. "I would like to see Denon's celebrations someday. Preferably with you as my guide."

Although there was no stopping the amused, delighted laugh when Dominqiue pulled out the warming air freshener.

"Oh, Shiraya above, you came prepared."
She leaned in a touch, inspecting the sleek little device. "Peppermint or spearmint? You spoil me. Though if I freeze solid, I trust you will at least prop me somewhere tasteful."

"Peppermint is fine!"
she added, although the teasing faded into a gentler expression as Dominique spoke more earnestly.

Sibylla's steps slowed just a fraction, the Market's hum softening around them. Music drifted from somewhere to their left, and the air warmed as they passed another brazier, casting gold across Dominique's furlined suit.

"I have missed you too,"
Sibylla admitted quietly. "More than I realized until now...so much has happened..."

It was the truth. Letters and reports were efficient, political, and safe, but they were not Dominique. They did not smile, or sigh, or catch snowflakes on gloved palms. They did not look at her with concern when too many things weighed heavily on Sibylla's shoulders.

She brushed her fingers lightly along Dominique's forearm in a brief but sincere gesture.

"And yes, I am well. Or at least better for seeing you again....and you are not wrong to be cautious. There are… watchers. Always...More now I feel every passing day..." she mused quietly, before taking a deep breath and smiling back at Dominique.

A burst of applause rose near the dais where Lady Corazona greeted new arrivals, and the glow of the crystalline Life Day orbs shimmered across the snow.

Sibylla tipped her head toward the heart of the Market.

"Come. Walk with me. I would like to give our gift before the crowd thickens. And after that…" Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Perhaps we find something warm to drink, and you tell me everything the reports were too dull to include. Tell me everything that has been going on with you? And oh, how is Kira doing?"

 



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

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Myra accepted her hot toddy with a content little hum, the steam curling up to warm her cheeks as Makai tugged her gently into the flow of the Ovli Market. His comment earned him a sidelong look along with the slow-dawning smirk of a woman who knew her husband far too well.

"A grown man, yes," she drawled, lifting her drink for a sip. "But a grown man who once spent thirty minutes explaining why the rocks in Phoebe's geology kit were mislabeled.... mhmm...forgive me if I question your limits of excitement when it comes to children's science toys."

Yet even with the tease, she flashed him a grin before he stole a quick kiss. A soft chuckle left her lips as they continued on after, smiling against the rim of her cup as he pulled back.

"Oh yes," she echoed lightly, "I suppose spending time with my devastatingly handsome husband is a nice bonus."

They drifted deeper into the market enjoying the stroll, the snow thickening into delicate flurries. Vendors called out in cheerful bursts; colored lanterns swayed overhead; soft music trailed behind passing groups. Myra leaned subtly closer to Makai, letting their shoulders brush as they wove through the walkway.

"As for gift expectations…" Her eyes lifted to him, amused. "You mean to tell me you survived a Centaxday sale unsupervised and didn't walk out with a life-sized holo-terrarium or a miniature aquaponics unit for Phoebe's room?"

"I should give you credit, then. You showed restraint." She chuckled again as she nudged him with her hip, warm amusement lighting her silvery gaze.

"Hmm.. though now I'm wondering what these non-Phoebe gifts are…" she mused even as her honeyed voice dipped into a sly curl of curiosity. "Something for me? Or something for you that you'll pretend is for me?"

There was no end to her teasing!

"And don't think you can distract me from the fact that we're child-free for the evening, Makai Dashiell. I fully plan to take advantage of that."



 
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His collar felt instantly tighter, choking him slightly. Solaina, he thought to say, but the blessed collar held him back from such familiarity.

"Chief Engineer?" He said, sounding accidentally incredulous. It wasn't that Solaina wasn't capable. Oh no, she was probably by now — he had not kept up with her career...much — one of the best engineers in the Republic. He had not doubt about it. She was always destined to be more than just average.

Dominic's eyes shifted to glance at his aide. She smiled back, not knowing the circumstance. He could not blame her for this surprise. She had tried to get him to look over the crew manifest. A small indiscretion within the workload he carried that had immediately awkward results. Lesson learned.

"Miss...?" He said, already annoyed that he had asked that as a question. His eyes scanned the manifest on his datapad, finding her name. "Miss Embarri. Please...get me up to speed."

The chill. Grew a chill. And Dominic retained his as he turned towards a voice, that had thankfully pulled him away from the face-plant of a reunion he was having. Unfortunately, he would have to remain as up to speed as he was. Great. Despite his annoyance at himself, Dominic found that slipped into a easy confidence in the Chief Engineers abilities.

"Princess Varanin. A delight...to be sure," he said, turning towards the new arrival, and target of today's negotiations. He dipped his head, deference offered with the calm assurance of one trained in etiquette from birth.

"Solaina Embarri," Dominic said by way of introduction for the two. He instantly felt his throat tighten. It was probably overstepping to take that moment from Sol...Miss Embarri. His eagerness to hear her name again, surprised even him.

He corrected his timing, allowing her to at least give her title and roll in this discussion.

With a hand gently directing towards a tent at the end of a market row, Dominic made as if to begin the move towards their place of negotiation. "We cannnot talk as we must while wandering among cider sippers and jolly makers," he said calmly, "a warm, and private location has been requested of the leader of Ukatis, and it awaits us."

Along the path, there were plenty of opportunities to acquire foodstuffs, and trinkets, though Dominic — for his part — was not rushing to the wood worker's craft stall today.




 

Kiran accepted the cup from Persephone with a grateful nod, the warmth seeping through his gloves almost immediately. The scent of chocolate and spice rose with the steam, comforting and rich against the bite of the winter air.

"Thanks," He took a sip, letting the sweetness linger before adding, more softly, "And for the record, this is probably the best hot chocolate I've ever had."

He sipped carefully, listening as she spoke about her parents. By the time she reached the part about catching them making out in the kitchen, Kiran had to clamp his teeth together to keep from snorting hot chocolate through his nose. He swallowed quickly, shoulders shaking with muffled laughter.

"Noted," he murmured, amusement still glinting in his eyes. "I'll try to stay out of the line of fire if they appear."

The Market lights danced along the snow as people milled by, the hum of music and laughter weaving through the air. Some part of him relaxed into it, the warmth of the drink and Persephone's presence making the evening feel, uncomplicated. Nice.

He looked toward her again, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Alright," he said, "Besides watching your parents commit public displays of affection, and the meteor shower. Let's see...." Kiran glanced around, but he had taken a note of the days events, even more, the snow added its own gallantry to the events.

"They are having contest for axe throwing and archery." Kiran mentioned briefly, then continued. "We could see who builds the best snowman, or maybe go sledding, down that hill." He pointed in the distance, as it seemed there were some already engaging in the affair, the laughter from near and far could be heard. The teen took a deep breath and just smiled. "What sounds fun to you?"


 



Aiden felt her before he saw her.

A familiar warmth brushed the edge of his awareness, a gentle ripple through the Force, soft as a hand smoothing over his shoulders. When he turned, it was to the sight of Arhiia weaving through the snowfall with quiet purpose, her cloak glowing pale against the lantern-lit stalls, her braid catching flakes like threads of starlight.

He couldn't help the way his chest eased. Or the smile that pulled, unbidden, at the corner of his mouth.

The younglings were still arguing over whose snow sculpture looked most terrifying, but Aiden's attention, just for a heartbeat, shifted entirely to her. She lifted the container of hot chocolate with that slight tilt of triumph, and he huffed out a soft laugh, one that warmed the cold air between them.

"Mission accomplished," he murmured as she approached, though the children stole her attention before he could say more.

He stepped aside, folding his arms loosely, watching her sink gracefully into the snow with the younglings. There was something magical about how easily she moved among them, how the children gravitated to her, how her presence never disrupted their joy but amplified it. Their squeals of excitement rose again as she praised the snow rancor, and Aiden found himself lingering on the sound of her voice, light, warm, gently teasing.

He didn't miss the way she steadied the creature's sagging head, fingers brushing snow away with a care that made something in him soften. He'd seen her fight with ferocity, seen her stand unshaken in storms far worse than this one, but this gentle grace was something else entirely. When she rose, cloak spilling elegantly around her, Aiden straightened instinctively. He felt her hand drift, casual, soft but deliberate in a way that sent a quiet spark through him. Their knuckles touched, glove to glove and so lightly it could've been an accident, but it wasn't. Aiden's breath caught in a way he hoped she didn't notice. Slowly, subtly, he angled his hand so the contact lingered, a fleeting promise in the space between them.

"Careful," he said gently, turning his head just enough that she could hear the smile in his voice. "If you keep rescuing snow creatures and delivering hot chocolate, the younglings will never let you leave."

One of them tugged his boot, shouting his name.

But he didn't look away from Arhiia. Not yet. In the drifting snow, lanternlight glinting in her eyes, she looked like a quiet moment of peace carved out of the chaos, something fragile, steady, and impossibly dear. The Jedi Knight leaned in and placed a soft kiss against her cheek. And for a heartbeat, Aiden simply let himself stand there beside her, sharing the winter air, the warmth of her hand, and the small, unspoken truth hanging between them.

"All right," he called to the younglings again, voice warm but carrying easily, A smile on his face as he looked to them all. "New rule, no one is allowed to push anyone into the snow until after hot chocolate."


 

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Open to Visitors!
"Can you cook a horse?" he whispered.

"We are not eating the horse," Cora replied through a perfectly maintained, perfectly joyful smile. Makko would recognize the edge of warning in her tone. Before he could muster another quip, Roman Vossari Roman Vossari was quick to saddle himself atop the gifted white mare, and even quicker to be bucked elsewhere into the crowd. Cora placed a hand over her mouth, obscuring a snort of amusement.

At least no one could say that the festivities were boring.

"Nothing more pleasant for a child's crib than the silken touch of Aurorastag pelt. For you...good Princess."

When the crowd parted to allow Thessaly Veruna through, Cora's chest lifted in a silent breath. Her first - and only - impression of the woman had been poor, given the disturbance she'd caused at Aurelian's dinner party.

Thessaly the Terrible, she'd been dubbed.

The Aurorastag pelts were presented, and Cora smiled graciously in return. An attendant held the skins closer for her to sample, and she ran her fingers over downy fur with a pleased hum. The way that Thessaly spoke, the words she chose to subtly emphasize - dowager, honor, thriving - did not go unnoticed.

"Who wouldn't sleep well swaddled in something so soft?" she chuckled. "Thank you, Lady Veruna, for your warm gift. In the spirit of the season, allow me to offer a token in return." Cora paused, reached into the wide sleeve of her garish robe, and handed a trinket to her guest; a wooden charm carved with the unfurling petals of a lotus flower.

Cora smiled cryptically. "From one woman to another"

"This piece was discovered in a collapsed granary outside old Nenvar Ridge," Ravion explained gently, his art dealing whisper breaking through even the sound of the party around them.
"It dates to the early agrarian period, before offworld maps even marked Ukatis as settled. It depicts the blessing of Shelter and the belief that every newborn should be welcomed into a community that safeguards them."

Senator Ravion's arrival was seamless as he swept to Thessaly's side. Cora offered a gentle incline of her head in greeting, then peered closer to the ancient tile. Such delicate stonework had been restored with care, and its depiction chosen with intent. Impressive.

"It's always heartening when someone has taken the time to recognize our customs with an attentive eye," Cora murmured as her gaze traced along the etching of mother and child. The modern touch of gold leaf caught the warm lantern glow framing the dais. "Through it may be an old tradition, it's still alive and well in the hinterlands. Particularly in the region my family hails from."

Most of Ukatis was rural, after all. Axilla, the pinnacle of Ukatian modernity, likely seemed little more than a backwater village to the Nabooians.

"Thank you, Senator Corvalis, for your thoughtful gift. Ukatis stands not just as an ally to Naboo, but as a proud member of the High Republic. Please," her gaze passed between Ravion and Thessaly with a warm smile, "do enjoy the festivities. Rustic though they may be, a touch of Life Day magic makes them special."

"Bettany Maybelline of House Sal-Soren, my lady." she said politelty. "Coming on behalf of myself with a little gift. I wish you all the best of luck... and I hope its a girl."

"Oh, would you look at that," she cooed. "I love the colors - how darling! Thank you, my dear. And I'm glad to see you dressing in the festive spirit."

Fortunately, the girl had chosen more flattering fabrics than Cora had several Life Days ago, when she'd been tricked by Vera Noble Vera Noble into wearing a cheap elf costume at a resplendent gala on Naboo.

The young Sal-Soren had her first breakout role depicting a younger version of the dowager princess, which automatically endeared Cora to her. Already she could envision the little loth cat plushie being cuddled to sleep.

"I'm certain that she will love it, too. Please, enjoy the celebration today."

"Didn't you have some tights like that? Can't remember what happened to them."

Pale cheeks began to pink, and Cora said nothing. She did, however, briefly dig the heel of her shoe into the toe of Makko's boot.

“Once an MSE‑6 repair droid.. or just mouse droid, Lysander began, lifting the box carefully. “Now.. a nightlight! Hums lullabies, and can play ambient sounds if she prefers. Some of the melodies you might remember from when we were young. A touch of home, in a way. Basically, repurposed to patrol the nursery and safeguard naptime.” The corner of his mouth curved playfully. “Death Star vintage.”

Even in the sea of merriment, Lysander's presence threaded its way through the crowd and to her. Cora reached down to Makko's hand for a quick squeeze as Lysander appeared, flanked by his entourage.

Cora couldn't help the way her expression warmed. There was a little thinning of her smile, but for one day, perhaps she could look past the presence of darkness on Ukatian soil in the spirit of the holiday.

So long as they behaved.

"A nightlight! How clever." Only her brother would dare to fashion a mouse droid into something so genuine, thinking of his impending niece's comfort. Joy melted into amusement as Cora lifted a brow. "Did you…take this from the Death Star III? Oh, I hadn't thought to procure a souvenir. Then again," the blonde mused while patting her abdomen, "she was there."

"Pleasure to meet you, Dowager Princess von Ascania." First impressions. Lysander was close and could get away with familiarity, but Naniti didn't want to make a social mess of things assuming the same. "When I heard of the celebration, I had to come."

Cora smiled. There was a quiet sort of judgment to the expression, but it was not unkind.

"And a pleasure to meet one of Lysander's friends as well. I am grateful that you've made the time to come."

Her brother had always been able to draw people toward him with little effort - but the Togruta didn't seem the type to be so easily ensnared by his charisma. Then again, Lysander's history with women was…

Well, he was a teenager.

Cora leaned forward, and addressed Naniti in a low, conspiratorial whisper; "I do hope my dear brother hasn't caused you any trouble. Feel free to deliver swift correction if he does."

“It’s not much, but it is tradition in my family to gift something that we have hunted during this season. I made sure it was cleaned thoroughly, each bead can also be carved for whenever your child decides to do so, when they are of age to carve of course.”

The large fellow in the unfortunate sweater stepped forward, offering her a bracelet with smooth, hand-polished ivory beads. Something he'd constructed himself, and Cora could admire the gesture as much as she could the care and time he'd put into the craft.

"What a lovely tradition." Cora smiled as she held the bracelet aloft, soft firelight catching along the curve of each bead. "Thank you, Varin. Ukatians are fond of such sport as well - what sort of game do you hunt?"

"Nice to meet you. Both of you." Then his eyes lowered to her stomach before flicking between Cora and Makko "And... congratulations."

Next, the dour looking young man who'd been subjected to her sister's wiles - though Cora did not know that he'd met Fatine, and that was probably a good thing - offered his congratulations.

The princess felt compelled to look upon him with kind eyes. So, she did.

"Thank you, young man. May this Life Day season bring you comfort and joy."

Cora brought an arm to rest over Lysander's shoulder, and, with strength that belied her tender form, suddenly pulled him into her embrace.

"Remember how you were afraid of the dark as a child? How thoughtful of you to ensure that your niece won't be scared!"

Cora readily took full advantage of her position to embarrass her baby brother in front of his tough-looking friends, going so far as to place a kiss on the crown of his head before releasing him.

"Why don't you all go and enjoy the festivities? Do take care to keep Lysander in line."

"Erh...Just droppin' this off. It's a little mini-fishing rod and some fake fish. They can play with it when they get older...and then this is for you..."

Reina rummaged around for a few moments, before pulling out a small pouch from her robes, holding it out towards Cora.

"It's a collection of pearls that I've collected throughout the years. Nothing...spectacular, I guess."

"Reina," Cora addressed warmly, "how good it is to see you again. And the gift you've brought for the child is simply adorable - I'm certain that it'll earn its keep entertaining an energetic toddler."

There was something in the edge of the girl's smile that seemed forced. A few others had approached her with a similar expression today, but Cora couldn't work out whether it was from nerves or disdain. Either way, she elected not to draw attention to it.

"And pearls! These will make a lovely piece. How generous, thank you Reina. Please, do enjoy the festival."

Another familiar presence slipped in, offering an answer to Reina's question regarding a gift for the father-to-be.

“Well, that depends on if you want to or not.” Colette spoke with forced ease. She didn’t look at Reina, her eyes were fixated on Cora and Makko both. “I was very happy for the two of you when I read the news.”

"I wish I'd have told you in person," Cora admitted, sheepish. "Thank you, Colette. I'm so glad you made the trip over. It's been too long - in fact -"

Cora leaned forward and gathered her old friend into an embrace, hoping that it would melt a little of the distance that was between them. It wasn't a rift, more like a long silence through circumstance.

Though the galaxy had carried them down different paths, they weren't dissimilar.

When the familiar and surprisingly unmasked form of Connel Vanagor Connel Vanagor waded through the crowd, Cora offered him a wave. He was another Jedi whose duties had called him elsewhere, but he'd made time to check on her.

"Hey Cora." Jonyna smiled as she approaches. "And, I take it you're Makko? I don't remember if we've met. I've had a busy last few months."

"Jonyna," Cora greeted with a warm smile. "Welcome to Ukatis - and to our Name Day festival."

She glanced to Makko, gauging whether or not he was familiar with the Cathar Jedi.

"Busy as you are, I'm glad that you took the time to come here today. How are you and the children?"
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A single of her finely manicured brows rose upon the offer of a gift in return. What von Ascania presented left Thessaly...nonplussed. She received it, certainly. With a quick glance down, she rolled the charm over in her fingers. It was a nothing. A mere trinket with meaning that she did not embrace as her own. But it was received with a practiced, but false, warmth, that he eyes betrayed.

"How delightful," she said, "truly marvellous."

The number of people pushing for the attention of the married couple left Thessaly with the slightest hint of bile in her mouth. Doting on a pregnant woman was pedestrian enough already without having to hear all the other trite commendations. The Senator gave her reprieve from the banality.

"Thank you for your hospitality. May you continue to wear the burden of expectant motherhood with such fortitude. It is admirable," Thessaly said, with a dip of her head, and then accepting the senator's arm.

"Whisk me far from this dais, dear Senator," she whispered for his ears only, "I fear that my limit for the saccharine has been exceeded."

She did not allow him the honour of guiding their path, instead subtly tugging him in the direction of a quieter, less frequented path through the market.

"Word has reached my ears of a fantastic piece of ancient art...my mother speaks highly of it. I believe she has recently acquired it for her next exhibition," she said calmly laying out the update on one of their machinations, "it should be...very entertaining. She plans to invite my brother. And the Abrantes girl."

 
Shade watched Elian prepare for his next shot, studying him with the quiet, unintrusive attention she reserved for people Cassian valued. The younger Abrantes carried himself with an ease that seemed to brighten the entire section of the market, a kind of effortless confidence that contrasted sharply with her own measured restraint. Yet she found something about it unexpectedly pleasant. When his grin flicked toward her—curious, warm, disarmingly open—she allowed the faintest curve at the corner of her mouth, subtle but unmistakably genuine.

"I think your brother is the kind of man who appreciates most things."

Her voice was soft, laced with that rare hint of quiet humor that surfaced only when she consciously allowed it. She tipped her chin slightly toward the target downrange, offering Elian a composed nod that held more sincerity than flourish.
"Good luck, Elian Abrantes."

The brightness in his expression deepened, and she could almost feel Cassian's warmth beside her as the siblings shared a brief look. Then his touch brushed lightly at the small of her back—guiding, but never directing—and together they moved toward the axe-throwing lane.

Snow drifted lazily across their path, settling along the edges of her braid and sleeves without drawing a single shiver from her. Shade stepped up to the neatly arranged rack of weapons, her eyes scanning their shapes with a practiced efficiency. She reached for one without hesitation, her fingers curling around the handle as she lifted it to test its weight.

It was heavier than her knives, of course, broader in its swing arc, designed for rotation rather than straight-line flight. Still, the mechanics were familiar, and she rotated the axe once in her palm with the same careful calibration she applied to any tool meant for precision. She shifted her stance, adjusting the placement of her feet as she let the balance speak to her muscles, ensuring the motion would translate cleanly when released.

Cassian stood just behind her, his presence warm and steady, but she didn't let herself look back. She didn't need to. She could feel the quiet pull of his attention, a subtle gravity that had nothing to do with the weapon in her hand and everything to do with the trust neither of them had yet spoken aloud.

When the next group was called forward, Shade stepped into place. The world around her softened, the lantern-lit bustle fading to a muted hum as she focused solely on the distance between her and the target. She drew a slow breath, the air crisp against her lungs. The axe lifted smoothly behind her shoulder, each movement controlled, deliberate.

She exhaled—steady, precise—and let the weapon fly.

The motion was clean, the rotation tight, the sound of it cutting through the cold air before it struck the wooden target with a firm, resonant impact. Her arm lowered, expression composed, her eyes lingering on the placement for several quiet seconds as she assessed the throw with her usual analytical calm.

Only once she'd completed her evaluation did she turn back toward Cassian, her posture settling naturally at his side, her breath steady despite the faint glow of exertion beneath her skin.

She said nothing—she didn't need to. The moment, the throw, and the quiet shift of warmth in her eyes spoke well enough on their own.

Cassian Abrantes Cassian Abrantes Elian Abrantes Elian Abrantes
 

Objective II
Tags: Adelle Bastiel Adelle Bastiel

Aurelian slipped away from the dais the moment decorum allowed, trading the stiff ceremonial posture for the easy, prowling stride he preferred. Lanternlight gilded the snow, throwing warm gold across the Ovli Market; music and chatter rose like breath into the cold.

He should have been thinking about Cora's Name Day gift, or how to make Makko tolerate the name "Aurelia" for longer than twelve seconds, but none of that held his attention. The Warriors Challenge did.

He found Adelle of Clan Phantom, boots braced and posture familiar, with a tiny creature coiled at her feet like a judgmental puff of frost. Aurelian slowed, a sharp grin flickering to life. Round three, then.

He approached just as her axe hit the target, a decent throw, though he'd never admit that aloud. The spukami spotted him first; he gave it a cautious glance, as if it were a grenade with whiskers.

"Adelle of Clan Phantom," he drawled, leaning casually against the post beside her. "I am surprised to see you accepted our invitation." His gaze dipped to Phantom. "And that you brought her. I suppose I should have assumed."

Before she could answer, he plucked an axe from the rack, testing the weight with a practiced flick of his wrist. He stepped into the lane, close enough that she'd feel the challenge humming off him, the familiar spark of competition and something a shade more dangerous lighting behind his eyes.

"Don't mind me," he said. "I sponsored this whole thing anyway." His smile slanted, sly and unmistakably provoking. "And it looks like you're in need of a partner."

He glanced back at her, grin widening. "Shall we?"

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Objective II

Isla let the compliment settle over her, unexpected and warm enough to make her blink before she covered it with a practiced, unimpressed sniff.

"…Fine," she conceded, lifting her chin. "That will do. Barely. But don't get cocky. And the next time you try to correct my stance, Phillip, I swear by every lantern in this market, you will regret it."

With that, she drew back her arm and sent the axe flying. It spun through the air in what she generously considered a dignified arc before thunking into the target. It landed slightly wide of center. Not terrible, but certainly not impressive. Acceptably non-embarrassing.

She stepped back and gave Phillip a bright, needling grin. "Your turn. Try to aim for the general vicinity of the board, okay?"

While he moved to the line, Isla crouched, rummaging in her bag. Her fingers were already going numb. Why had she not gone to that Tapas lesson? She could have been warm and smug. Instead, her hands felt like decorative ice cubes.

She pushed aside a few things: wrapped snacks, a half-broken stylus, something that definitely didn't belong to her. Then, her fingers brushed a soft green glow. The kyber. It was still nestled exactly where she'd tucked it on Ilum. She paused, then promptly shoved it deeper beneath a pair of gloves. Not now. Not today.

She muttered a small, triumphant sound as she finally tugged the gloves free and wrestled them on before slinging the bag back over her shoulder.

Phillip's throw wasn't awful. It was surprisingly not awful. Potentially even respectable.

She cupped her hands around her mouth. "Phillip! You could do with adjusting where you're standing!"

Perfect echo. Perfect brat.

Then she snagged a fresh axe from the rack, stepped up beside him with a little hip-check of challenge, and smirked. "Watch closely. I'm about to improve dramatically out of sheer pettiness."


 


Objective III
Tags: Ala Quin Ala Quin

Lorn stared at the wool-swaddled, deceptively harmless Grandmaster. He let out a breath that fogged softly in the air, the corners of his mouth twitching upward, helpless.

"Pointy nipples," he repeated under his breath.

He shifted his grip on the staff, his eyes lingering on the way she bounced on her toes. She was both adorable and deadly.

"You know," he murmured, his voice pitched low for her alone, "I'd have worn a jacket if I thought you needed the advantage." His gaze flicked down her bundled layers with unmistakable mischief. "But I prefer sparring when my movements aren't restricted."

He didn't give her time to fire back. The moment her breath hitched, just enough to signal she'd caught the tease, Lorn moved.

Snow crunched as he closed the distance in a single, fluid advance. His staff swept in a fast, controlled arc aimed at her midline, a probing blow designed to test her guard rather than land clean. This was the quiet challenge, the beginning of their dance.

"Try to keep up."

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Liana's attention had not even made its way to the Name Day event in the center of the market yet, let alone towards the mare now galloping towards her. She probably would have been clipped by the beast of burden, if not for a sudden flash of suggestion in her mind that told her to look that way. Between the rider's correction, and her own pulling back, the only casualties were Roman's pride, and a few ounces of hot chocolate, which splattered across and quickly melted a patch of snow.

"Are you… okay?" Liana asked out of courtesy, though her tone was more one of inconvenience and bewilderment. The man was quick to get up, so he couldn't have been too hurt, and he was equally quick to apologize. Liana acknowledged as much with a nod, then reached out to pet the mare's muzzle. She seemed to respond more amiably to the girl's gentle touch than the antics of her previous rider.

"Roman. I'm kind of a big deal around here."

"That a fact?" The princess replied, an eyebrow arched incredulously, "Liana. I guess I'm a big deal somewhere, not so much here."

"So uh, what's with the horse?"
 



"And how many lanterns would that be? I count one...two..."

Phillip broke out into a bright cheeky grin at that. All the nerves he had were already slowly starting to fade...Somewhat being replaced with a chill that was settling in, but his laughter brought a warmth that radiated throughout his body. At the somewhat admittably impressive throw from Isla, one might have expected Phillip to give a slow clap, or to cheer for the girl but instead his grin turned into a soft smile as he gave a short nod.

"See. Not making a fool of yourself. I knew you could do it."

Because at the end of the day, no matter how much he teased Isla, Phillip had utter faith in her abilities. Less so in his own as he stepped up to the line and chucked the axe as hard as he could. Of course...it wasn't entirely strength that was needed for axe throwing, form was the important aspect. An aspect Phillip had been lacking in, as the axe overspun. Whilst it lodged itself into the target, it was quite a bit off center...but for once, Philip wasn't going to let that deter him, as he broke out into a grin once more. And then came the echo of his own advice. He wasn't going to let Isla have the last laugh however as he stepped to the side to let her go again.

"Honestly? You're right. I don't think I was standing right."

That's when he felt it. Something...odd in the Force. It felt as if there was a gaze focused on him, but as his eyes scanned through the crowd, he couldn't quite notice anyone in particular standing out to him. It didn't help that the crowd was pretty large. Strange. Maybe it was just his imagination at the end of the day.

"Hm? Cold hands?"

Phillip's gaze came back to look at Isla as she stepped up, a small frown on his face at the sight of the gloves. He had a spare pair he could have given her. Though maybe it was better that he didn't give them to her, then she couldn't accuse him of using them to cheat...Though from the looks of the next throw, it seemed like he didn't have to cheat.

"You know pettiness doesn't get you anywhere, right?"

With that, Phillip stepped back up to the line, preparing his axe. Trying to make sure he had the form down as he did a few practice throws this time. He might not have been an entirely competitive person...but there was just something about this bratty best friend that was bringing out more of the competition out of him.




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Tags: Arhiia Voronwe Arhiia Voronwe
The kiss landed against her cheek like a burst of sunlight in winter — warm, unexpected, and devastating in the gentlest way possible. The contact was brief, barely more than a brush, but its echo rushed hot beneath her skin. A flush bloomed across her face in a bright, unmistakable pink, rising to the tips of her ears.

Her blue eyes widened for a heartbeat, breath catching the way it hadn't even when she'd been fighting through the pain of her injury. There was a moment — a fleeting, private one — where she swayed closer, as though the gravity he had on her tugged with real force.

She steadied herself with a small shift of her cane, fingers curling with subtle urgency around the textured beskar grip.

Then the younglings tugged at Aiden's boots again, shouting his name — and Arhiia, still glowing pink and trying to compose herself, looked at them.

Then looked at Aiden. Then at the snow at her feet. Her hand loosened on the cane. The other hand slowly dipped down…

Her blush deepened — but her eyes lit with a mischievous spark the younglings recognized instantly.

In one swift, fluid motion, Arhiia scooped up an armful of snow — more than she should reasonably be able to gather with one hand — and with a smooth pivot of her shoulder, she dumped it squarely onto Aiden's chest and shoulders.

Snow cascaded over him like a miniature avalanche.

Arhiia lifted her cane again, bracing her weight, but her expression was anything but innocent. She winked — a slow, conspiratorial little flick of her lashes — directly at the younglings.

Then she inhaled deeply

And let her voice ring across the snowy square, rising above the sound of bustling vendors and giggling children:

"S N O W B A L L—!"

Several younglings didn't even wait for her to finish. They shrieked in triumph, sprinting to her side, gathering snow in frantic handfuls, declaring her the general of their sudden winter offensive.

Arhiia straightened beside them, cloak sweeping dramatically behind her, breath still warm at the place where Aiden's lips had brushed her cheek. The blush remained — brilliant, undeniable, a quiet testament to what he did to her — even as her stance shifted into full battle-ready poise.

One youngling bumped her leg, handing her an extra-packed snowball like an offering.

She accepted it with a graceful dip of her head, eyes sparking as she launched the snowball directly at Aiden, as her laughter rang out in the crisp air, the infectious sound carrying above the shrieks of the younglings.


 
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There. Her thoughts bled out. Abishai could almost see the cave, the moment that she stole the kyber and the location. In her bag. It all echoed in her annoyingly high pitched aristocratic tone of voice.

Moments before Philip looked in his general direction, Abishai had moved out of sight, behind a collection of ornamental wreaths that were for sale. It was not nous, nor savvy that saw him hide in time, but pure happenstance. The attention did not pass Abishai's notice though, and it made him all the more circumspect about how to proceed.

A child, no more than seven years old, was looking over the wreaths, just to Abishai's left. The could've-been-Jedi knew a fellow ne'er-do-well when he saw one. "Hey kid..."

The child, chubby in that pre teen sort of way, looked up at the hooded Abishai with an expression full of suspicion.

"Wanna earn some creds?" Abishai said, while scratching at his nose as if to say, "if you know what I mean."

"What's the job?" Said the youngster in a tone dripping with caution.

With a wave of his hand, Abishai directed the kid to look around the corner. They both closed in around each other conspiratorially. "See those two over there with axes...the blonde one and the prude?"

"Yeah...that your girlfriend or something?" Said the child, mocking.

"Shut it..." Abishai spat out, "...or I'll shut it for ya."

"Revenge on the ex-girlfriend, huh?"
The kid said, revealing a worldliness to him that would have been unexpected by someone that wasn't Abi, "no offense, but she upgraded...for real."

"Not my girlfriend," Abishai hissed through gritted teeth.

"Duh...that's what ex means, Sithspit," came the immediate retort.

"Shut the kark up," Abishai said with a slight shove, "she has...and never will be...my girlfriend."

"Why...she's kinda hot,"
said the kid. Abishai's eyes widened in surprise, mouthing a hearty what the kark?

"The distance plays tricks. Her face looks like an old mouldy blob of cottage cheese," Abishai said, "you want the job or not?"

"If you would stop talking about this girl we could finally get to that, yeah," came the youth's reply.

Abishai grimaced. "That bag...her bag. I need it. Well...I need something of mine that is in it," he said, moving the kids face downwards to look at the bag instead of Isla, "I want you to nab it...and then while running away with it...start pouring all the contents out on the ground and then ditch the bag. I will be ready and just grab what is mine before she can get it all gathered up. Easy, yeah?"

"How much you payin'?"

"Five credits."

"Sixty."

"Sithspit!"

"Price of doing business, chum," said the kid.

Abishai leaned back against the make shift wall of the stall beside them. His eyes had yet to return to their normal, smaller, diameter.

"Or you can just pay me them five credits not to tell her that you are here and trying to steal her bag," said the child with a wicked grin.

Abishai hand his hands on the kids shirt before he knew what he was doing. The threat was immediate and obvious. But the child didn't flinch. "You gonna hurt a kid in front of all these lovely people?" He said, palm up awaiting payment.

There was a pause. Abishai didn't look about, he was not confident that he wasn't about to be arrested for doing as much as he had already done. Reluctantly, he reached into his pocket, pulled out some credits and slapped it into the child's waiting hand.

"You chartin' little scammer," Abishai snarled.

"Pleasure doing business with you," came the grinning reply, before the boy pulled himself free of Abishai's grip and happily trundled off to find something on which to spend his new found fortune.

Abishai slumped back, eyes turning towards the distant axe-throwing duo. A scumbag like that kid was likely to take the credits and turn him in just for the fun of it. He had to be quick now. Before he was broke.


 


Lossa slowly turned towards the question.

Standing up a little straighter with each passing second as she took in the sight before her. Gone was the scoundrel jedi with the rough and tumble fit. Replaced by a dapper looking gentlemen in a well fitted suit. Thankfully too astonished by the change to let herself slip up. But it was present in the back of her mind. Locked behind a quiet, stunned silence.

"You ever thought about modeling?" Not stunned enough to keep the respectable approach from being blurted out as she looked him up and down again. "That look really suits you."

A smile twitched against the effort to keep from laughing at her own humor. Coughing into a her hand before curling her lip inward for a few more seconds to compose herself.

"Anyway," A final sharp sniff got her back on track as the humor washed from her, nodding to the stalls around them. "Cora suggested I try the apple dumplings when I visited Ukatis before. Time got away from me and I never tried them. So, was hoping to find them this time."

Finally answering his question. Nodding to herself as she noticed his shoes matched well with the outfit, and that damned glove. Her hand rose to scratch at her brow to give herself a moment to find composure. A leash being formed around her emotions with her daughter not present. It was second nature to remain in control with her Starlight present. And the offer from her parents to occupy the freshly energetic child for the evening rather than brave the crowds had been a pleasant shedding of restraint. One she was learning still needed some introspective thought when around a certain someone.

Honesty was easy enough to produce when Life Day hadn't been the most pleasant for the number of times she had tried to celebrate it. "Thank you. For the invitation. I mean. I was planning on seeing Cora before heading home, so, this will be nice."

Her hands, hidden in her pockets once more, picked at a nail as she rocked on her heels slightly. Nerves settling over her despite the effort to ignore them as the need to chatter struck.

"What are your first thoughts about Ukatis? Well, actually. Better question-Uhm-Have you been here before?"

 


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Axilla, Ukatis
Tags: Aurelian Veruna Aurelian Veruna

The throw could have been better but it at least hit the wooden target and bit into it. She shook her hand, trying to remember all the pointers and lessons her clanmates had given her about throwing weapons but before she could get too far into her own head, a familiar voice called out her name. Eyebrows raised when she saw who it was and a smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth.

He casually picked up an axe and Adelle noted the practiced way he held it. She felt a brief moment of concern for her pride as he gave a smile, offered friendly competition, and threw his axe. It went a bit wider than her own, still biting into the target, and still not a bad throw.

"I'm always down to dance," she said, the smirk widening. "Be it with music, lightsabers, words, or axes."

Phantom looked up at Aurelian, a calculating tilt to her head, and she sniffed the air around him. <<Loud man. Warm.>>

Adelle discreetly tugged on the leash gently, reminding the spukami that she couldn't just jump up onto things, or people, as she pleased. An ear flicked back towards her but the caluclations stopped.

"Truthfully, I was in the area, on Thyferra, and I couldn't resist a good party on your dime," she teased. "That and the new Queen of Naboo has to give her well-wishes to the expectant mother. To not do so would be the height of scandal. I'm surprised to see you slumming it down here. Too much nobility, not enough sass?"

Adelle picked up her next axe and gave it a heft before hurling it at the target. The only thing she minded about losing now would be the knowledge that she'd paid an entrance fee to lose and Aurelian hadn't--that and the inevitable teasing Aurelian was sure to give if he did better.

Well, she could always find something else to tease back. The man was a walking theatrical production. There'd always be something to heckle.



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"You'd have to visit two separate years," Dominique said, "one for the Surface, one for Below. I can assure you the content of the festivities is remarkably different." Arguably, one could attend many years in a row and see something new depending on which District and Level they were on, but there was an undeniable difference between above and below the top level -- obviously, one had a sky and the other had a ceiling. That single difference along opened up countless possibilities one was better at than the other. Of course, if Sibylla came to the Surface gathering it would have to be in District One.

Though Ayumi Pallopides Ayumi Pallopides might have quite the show this year in Upcity. Dominique would have to gauge whether she needed to change her opinion on whose surface-level show was best.

A smirk and slight turn of the head followed Sibylla's good cheer. "I might win first place in an ice sculpture contest. Or perhaps I'll put you in the city center. Your beauty and grace would be certainty to bring warmth to all that gazed upon you," she replied in kind.

At any point Sibylla desired -- including immediately -- Dominique would offer the air fresher to her friend. Hopefully her security wouldn't mind. They shouldn't. After all... well, no need to dwell on why they shouldn't be concerned about Dominique being an assassin. Though it appeared she'd come bundled with a few accoutrements of her own to handle the weather. No one needed their Voice actually freezing solid, as she'd said moments ago.

Golden rings peered over at Sibylla as her touch ghosted along Dominique's forearm only briefly.

Watchers. It was difficult to convey to someone just what that was like before they felt those eyes following them everywhere they went. You couldn't prepare someone for just how invasive it felt. How unnerving. What were they watching for, was the question. To protect. To study. To strike. Now? What about later? Dominique smiled with a slight nod. She understood.

At first they'd been eyes for protection, and Sibylla had sought another persona with which to escape their well-meaning, but constant vigilance. Now, perhaps that mask might help her elude these other unknown sources of observation. Dominique might need to pass along some ideas about how to use it to that effect. Discretely.

"I certainly can't imagine walking with anyone else," the Denonite laughed at Sibylla's invitation. Oh, opportunities, yes, yes, but that's what analysts and assistants were for! And as a Director she had plenty of each to scurry about seeing what Denon could do for Ukatis. All of which left Dominique herself free to remain in Sibylla's orbit on this fine, festive day.

Everything too dull for the reports was it? Dominique nodded. "I will bore you to tears." Not that her companion meant it literally, of course. Such a quick study the young woman was.

"Good, good. I'll tell you everything in due course, Sibylla. But not all at once. First we'll have to pay our respects, and see just how beside themselves they are at the endless parade of well-wishers." Dominique could just imagine the many sighs hiding behind smiles. You didn't get to pick your guests at an event such as this.


 

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Cold.

Damned cold.

An unbearably, disgustingly frigid waste of a planet cold.

If there were a way to say 'Falleen are not welcome' it was to make them cold. Their physiology did not bear it as well as a Human, and they didn't take any shame in that. Everyone knew why Humans were so 'adaptive' and 'versatile' in where they built their community... They were a menace and a pox on this galaxy! If not them then some other odious creature would have learned how to spread to every corner of the galaxy sucking up resources. The Falleen had no need to evolve a tolerance food cold, nor the inclination to genetically alter themselves for it. They were perfectly content to have Human workers (and slaves) deal with such things.

So, why was Senator Xazzex Xivar on Ukatis? Why had she come to the opposite end of the Republic and endured these intolerable conditions? Well it wasn't in an effort to grow closer to the aliens in the hope they'd spread across the face of Falleen that was certain! Though they did have a perfectly acceptable taste in tea. A few reasons the Republic need not know about, in fact.

And since she was forced to be there to ensure these sensitive matters were handled discretely, Xazzex felt obligated to visit the Market. Most notably the place where every hoity-toity dignitary was practically climbing over each other to say hello to Carazona and Makko. A sight that seemed to suck even more of the life out of her than the cold had managed.

Ravion Corvalis Ravion Corvalis had, perhaps, been the worst of the lot so far. Oh, the Princess had barely managed not to roll her eyes at the horse, but Ravion had a speech prepared to fawn over his own gift and pretend to be a dear friend of the family. It really was nearly enough to make Xazzex gag. To think such words could tumble so freely from the mouth of a man in such proxmity to Thessaly Veruna Thessaly Veruna .

Thessaly would have at least been 'pleasant' company at these festivities, but Xazzex wasn't know for going out of her way to make friends. If they had business, they would meet. If not, then unlikely; but the woman certainly had that sharp tact Aurelian seemed keen on exploiting, but with far less tolerance for the banal inanities people expected from 'good company' -- which was precisely why Xazzex thought they might get along.

"You should make this a regular event," a lightly acerbic voice called out as a green figure drifted in from the sidelines. Xazzex was dressed in a black coat and pants that lacked bulk, but was full of insulation to stave off the bulk of the cold air that thought to choke the life from her. "All your friends could come and greet you, exchange quick pleasanties, pick out the ones you actually want to talk to and quietly usher them somewhere warm." She was, of course, well aware this was supposed to be a one-off gathering for a Name Day celebration that happened to coincide with a Life Day gathering; what did that have to do with the suggestion of suffering these indignities on an annual basis? They should thank her for the idea seeing as how Ukatis was such a rural planet.

"Perhaps, someday, the little one might even get a chance to ride their own horse." Provided the cold didn't kill the beast it should live long enough for an adolescent to enjoy.

"Shame these things don't allow you to pick who is invited, isn't it?" And, no, the Falleen woman before them wouldn't care if someone even dared say to her face she'd be on the 'do not invite' list.

She stepped forward and extended a small, rectangular box out for the couple. Inside the ribbon-bound package would be a holoviewer decorated along the borders with various animal figures and other childish symbols slowly fading into what a young person or adult would enjoy -- or be demanded of by society. "They grow up too fast." A holo album for them to store pictures and videos of their youngling.

Xazzex hated everything about this, but it would be too much to walk up, look down on everyone, and walk away. Not that she would care if there was actual reason to insult someone so thoroughly, but why make an enemy of someone without gain?

And just in case they weren't aware, "You can shoot guests that you don't like. A Falleen lawyer would represent you pro bono." That actually managed to break Xazzex's cold features with a tug of a smile at the corners of her lips. Though if they tried to have her shot the Falleen would bombard the planet from orbit, but again there wasn't reason to spoil the moment.


 

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