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

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Ukatis

Equipment:
Winter Outfit| Lightsaber | Cybernetic Arm

Ace dipped his head at Corazona von Ascania 's blessing, the warmth in her tone hitting him harder than he expected. Jedi shouldn't look at a supposed Sith that kindly, but it made something in his chest go tight.

Then she grabbed Lysander and kissed the top of his head. Ace stared blankly. That wasn't the Covenants' golden prodigy. That was just… a kid with a big sister who adored him. And Lysander let it happen... laughing, unguarded, soft in a way Ace had never seen on Desevro. It threw him off more than he'd admit.

Off to the side, Naniti elbowed Lysander after his Death Star joke. It was quick, practiced, like she had a history of keeping him out of trouble. Ace registered it in the corner of his awareness. Maybe his read was wrong but, their dynamic was... interesting.

When Lysander recovered and started talking about nightlights and nieces and courage, Ace felt the shift: saw a real person bleed through the mask. Cora told them to enjoy the festival and "keep Lysander in line," and Ace let out the faintest exhale, something almost like a laugh.

"Yeah." He said quietly, hands sliding back into his pockets. "I'll try."

Then Lysander challenged them to the test of strength, all bright, reckless ease. Ace didn't react outwardly, he just took one long breath of cold Ukatian air and followed after them, steady, unreadable, and trying hard not to let any of this get under his skin.

Truth to be told, he was relieved to be out of there. It was starting to get too crowded, and he wanted to avoid seeing anymore familiar faces like Reina Daival .

Lysander von Ascania | Naniti | Varin Mortifer​

 

[Katarine Ryiah]

Location: Lothal
Objective: Respond to Messages
Tags: Connel Vanagor

Katarine Ryiah had been on Lothal for nearly a month, long enough for the wind-whipped grasslands to feel familiar beneath her boots and for the quiet rhythm of farm work to move in step with her meditations. The Barash Vow demanded silence, silence from duty, silence from the galaxy's noise, silence even from the parts of herself she'd spent years outrunning. So she rose with the sun, tended irrigation lines, mended fences, and listened to the hum of the Force in every stalk of grain.

It wasn't peace exactly. But it was something.

Every few days, her comlink chirped. Connel Vanagor again. His name lit the screen like a tether to a life she'd stepped away from. She never answered, only thumbed the message away and told herself she would decide what to say next time. And then the next time came, and her chest tightened, and the vow felt heavier than the tools slung across her shoulders.

What did one say to someone who knew you before you laid your saber down? What did you say to someone who you missed like crazy but wasn't exactly sure you were a good person for him to be around?

In the evenings she sat on a low ridge overlooking the fields, letting the blue dusk roll over her like a tide. The Force whispered of coming storms, of choices she could no longer postpone. Connel's messages waited like unopened doors—inviting, dangerous, and far too close to the part of her she'd come here to quiet.

But Lothal had a way of revealing truths in its wide, unblinking openness.

Sooner or later, she would have to answer.

She picked up her datapad and typed a message to him, wondering what he was doing and hopping he wasn't too preoccupied with work.

Hi Connel, I'm sorry we haven't talked much lately. I've been trying to figure some things out. I miss you. We will talk soon.

She only hopped he understood what she was trying to do and wasn't angry with her sudden disappearance.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Open to Visitors!
​

"Hope you don't mind if I just stick around. Hoping to steal you two away later if I can. I don't do well with crowds like this."

"Of course," Cora said. "You're more than welcome to stay here, Jonyna. We might be a while, but once the crowds thin, we should have more time to catch up. Feel free to enjoy the festival, too."

“The bones of a Tuk’ata. Not just any hound though, this was the pack's alpha. It issued me a challenge, I responded and hunted for it. It took weeks.”

He watched her admire it once more.

“I hope that you have a healthy child. Congratulations to the both of you, Sith or not this is a very special occasion.”

"A tuk'ata?" There was a measure of disbelief in her voice, as though she didn't quite believe him – then, on second glance of Varin's physique, the concept suddenly made a little more sense. A lot more sense, actually, and she wasn't even aware of Ignati. To his parting congratulations, Cora dipped her head. "Thank you, young man. I will pray for the next tuk'ata that finds his way in your path."

“Well, some things are easier to face when you know someone else is watching out for you.” A memory of simpler days. “I hope it will give her courage.. my niece, when she needs it.”

Cora's smile could only brighten as Lysander embraced her back. He'd changed, but retained enough of who he was to still embrace their familial bond.

Perhaps she was afraid, selfishly, that one day, her little brother would outgrow her. Cora gave him an extra squeeze before they parted.

"I'm certain she'll love it as much as I do. Now go, and win that axe throwing competition for her."

Pleased though she was to see Lysander, her heart ached as he drifted away and into the festival lights with Varin, Naniti , and Acier Moonbound . These were acolytes. They were children, walking down a path of destruction that dressed itself in solace, in companionship and belonging. She hoped that for one night, they wouldn't feel the lure of the Dark side as they wandered among a celebration of life.

"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."

Cora's lips pursed in bemusement as a green woman in sharp black winter wear approached, speaking in almost familiar tones to the couple. She looked faintly familiar, and it took Cora a few moments of filing through her mental database of faces to pull a level of recognition to the surface.

"Perhaps, someday, the little one might even get a chance to ride their own horse."

"Provided the horse doesn't buck her into a snowbank," she chucked softly. "Thank you, Senator. I'm told that childhood goes by quickly for a parent." Cora's gaze swept along the album's cover as Makko received the gift. "Taking the time to catalogue those memories will make them last longer."

Senator. She hope she'd gotten that right - for a name and planet eluded her pregnant brain, but was certain she'd seen the Falleen's face among assembly broadcasts.

"You can shoot guests that you don't like. A Falleen lawyer would represent you pro bono."

Oh, that quip worked an unfeminine snort of amusement from the Princess. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind," she mused. "Having legal representation on your side is always a good thing.

"Though, watching them squirm a little does have a measure of satisfaction to it."

Cora glanced behind her shoulder. Just where had Aurelian Veruna run off to?

She turned back to the Senator with a dip of her head. "Please do enjoy the festival."

"Thank you so much for the gift," he said. "It's lovely. I... Maybe should go and see what happened to the horse."

Cora gave him a look. She didn't say anything, which was an important part of the look.

The cold air and talking were beginning to dry out her throat. An attendant appeared with a cup of water in hand, as if sensing her Lady's malady.

"Miss Cora." A small greeting. Persephone had noticed something else too, a baby bump. "Knocked up I see. "

Cora choked on her water. In the time it took for her to thump her chest, eyes bulging at the girl's audacity, Persie had managed to become even more audacious.

"You're the father? Or Miss Cora's attendant? I suppose both could be true..."

"Knocked u…" Cora mumbled as errant droplets of water finally dislodged themselves from her lungs. The paper cup had since crumpled in her grip. "My husband, Jedi Knight Makko Vyres, and I are pleased to celebrate the impending birth of our daughter."

With a teacher-firm voice, she gestured to the man sitting to her left. Then, because it was important, "We've been married for a year."

Longer than a human gestation, if the girl was already poised to do the math to determine whether or not it had been a shotgun wedding.

"Thank you for your…contribution, Persephone."

​

"Good day," he began, voice even and respectful. "I'm Kiran Arlos, Persephone's friend." He offered a courteous nod first to Cora, then to the dark-haired man beside her. "Congratulations to you both," he added after a brief beat, glancing uncertainly between them before finishing with a small, good-natured grin. "And, uh… apologies if I've got this wrong, but, are you her, ah, well...um? Regardless, congratulations still stand."

At least this one was more polite. Cora offered him a smile, one that was still a little taut from Persie's...frank approach. "Thank you, Kiran. What a kind gesture." Her gaze flicked back to Persie, both brow arched. "I do hope that the Lady Dashiell can model good manners after your own. She's fortunate to have such a well-mannered boyfriend.

Hey Kiddo. This is for your impending kiddo. A plush of an Aak dog like Buster, but in a Taun Taun costume. He also showed her the “reservation/certificate” that there is an actual Gallinorese Mountain Aak Dog puppy waiting for them when she is ready to give them a buddy.

That is when his mother Chrysa surprised her with a donation to the charity of her choice in her, Makko’s and their child’s name. It wasn’t much, but it was hopefully something thoughtful. I don’t know why I’m in the mood for ice cream.​

Fortunately, the next face that approached was a friendly one. "Oh goodness, isn't that adorable," she cooed upon receiving the plush toy. It was soft and cute, practically irresistible for a small child. Unfolding the certificate, her smile spread a little further as she tilted it towards Makko for him to read. "Between the horse and the dog, she'll start her own little farm," Cora mused. "Though I daresay that a puppy is more appropriate than a fully grown mare," she added in a murmur that wouldn't carry far beyond the dais and into any prying noble ears.

Roman could take care of the horse until their daughter was old enough to learn to ride. The dog, she imagined, would be an instant hit.

"Thank you, Lady Chrysa and Connel – we really are glad that you came all this way." Her gaze left the dais for the moment, catching the outlines of a few familiar figures from Omega squad. The curve of her lips lifted a little more. "I hope that you all have a pleasant evening. And there's a stall nearby that sells home made frozen treats, though I believe that the fat content may be too high to qualify as ice cream."

 

[Roman Vossari]

TAGS: Liana Organa

​

Roman returned, holding the steaming cup triumphantly overhead as if he'd just wrestled it from a rancor's jaws. "Hot chocolate, revived," he announced, handing it over with exaggerated ceremony. "And, oh yeah, Liana. Right."

He took the reins back for a moment, giving the mare a few tentative pats, relieved she didn't immediately throw him into another snowbank. His mind worked slowly, perhaps delayed from the fall or just his natural speed, before the name "Organa" finally clicked into place. "Organa... Organa..." He squinted. "I swear I've heard that somewhere. Probably on a datapacket or a holobanner or something important I definitely didn't read."

Then she dropped the title: Princess of Alderaan. Roman blinked. Once. Twice.

"...Oh." His face creased in a grimace that was equal parts impressed and horrified. "Well then, yeah, you're absolutely a bigger deal. Like, by a lot. Like, you-win-the-festival big deal." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Which makes all my earlier comments feel way worse in retrospect. So that's fun." The mare nudged his arm, choosing that moment to humble him further. Roman shoved her muzzle away without looking, too focused on Liana.

"So, uh, Princess. What's someone like you doing out here? Ukatis is not exactly Core World adjacent." He gestured vaguely around them at the rustic stalls and snow-dusted crowd. "The von Ascanias and the Organas don't exactly mingle, do they? What brings the royalty of Alderaan to a winter market in the middle of nowhere?"

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Ala Quin​

Lorn knew the instant her lip began to tremble what game she was playing.

He stared down at Ala's quivering mouth, her shimmering eyes, giving her an utterly unimpressed look. "Ala," he sighed, "you're lying. She's fine," he called over his shoulder to the crowd, raising a hand to reassure the suddenly hostile children. "She does this."

Which was exactly when her hand snapped up and smacked his staff aside. He barely caught himself, boots grinding into the packed snow as she rolled backward in a shockingly graceful burst of motion. In a blink, she was on her feet again, glaring down at her soaked coat like it had personally wronged her. Lorn straightened, reclaiming his staff, and leaned casually against it while she assessed the carnage of her outfit. He waited.

It took her far too long to arrive at his earlier point. He watched the coat go first, flung aside in a defeated heap. Then the snow pants. The hopping. The tugging. The muttering. The boots slipping on snow. Another tug. A triumphant grunt. At last, she stood free of all the winter layers, finally able to move.

Lorn arched a brow, smugness radiating off him like warmth. "Took you long enough," he murmured.

Then she leveled her staff at him. "Eyes up here, Mr. Quin."

Smugness gone. He blinked once. Twice. She knew exactly what that name did to him.

Lorn stepped forward, staff tipping down until its end kissed the snow beside her boot. "It is embarrassing when you call me that in front of everyone." His eyes softened.

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Tags: Adelle Bastiel

Aurelian let the satisfaction of his last throw settle across his face like a smug, lazy sunrise. He didn't gloat; he just radiated the clear implication of his skill.

"Well," he said, brushing imaginary frost from his sleeve, "it would be terribly scandalous if I won my own tournament. You understand. Appearances to maintain." He paused, then gave a wicked tilt of his mouth. "So yes, I may have paced myself." He moved off towards the stalls with her, his steps unhurried, letting the crowd and the lantern glow fold around them. He scanned the stalls for inspiration.

"Mad?" He barked a soft laugh. "Who, Cora?" His grin sharpened. "I paid for all of this. If I decide to wander off with an axe-throwing Mandalorian and her tiny ice gremlin, no one gets to object." He caught her glance then, the spark behind it, and answered with an equally mischievous raise of his brow.

After a moment of browsing, he spotted his target: a stall draped in red-and-gold banners, steam curling from carved wooden mugs, the scent of spice and warm fruit thick in the air. "There," he declared, steering her toward it. "Only the finest." Two drinks were purchased; one handed to her with exaggerated ceremony, before they slipped back into the market's current, strolling between snow-dusted vendor tables and garlands that swayed in the winter breeze.

For a few steps, he said nothing, sipping thoughtfully, eyes on the lanterns swaying overhead. Then he glanced sideways. "So," he said, his tone smoothing into something genuinely curious, "tell me where you come from. And how you ended up following the Mand'alor." Aurelian's expression dipped into rare, unguarded contemplative interest. "Loyalty like that fascinates me."

​

 

[Vulpesen]

"You know, I sometimes forget that holidays exist, with how often I find it necessary to work through them. Its nice to have the occasional reminder." He spoke quietly as he offered Ra'a'mah a wry smile. He was pleased that she had summoned him to this particular outing. It felt like such a rare thing to be called to service when blasters and lightsabers weren't involved. But that didn't make such moments any less important.

The Valde's coat shimmered in the market lights, its phrik dusting catching the light through the translucent layer of adhesive that kept it over the silk and leather material. Once upon a time, it had been his main armor when it came to battle. As much as he had changed over the decades, it seemed as though he had always had something of a flair for the dramatic. Nowadays however, the priceless coat acted more as a set of formal wear in places where he might need some sort of protection from the elements. Its myriad of blaster marks had been scrubbed away and the damage from numerous battlefields had been mended out of existence.

Vulpesen's eyes, like Ra'a'mah's travelled up the the dais where he was happy to see the young Ascania greeting guests and welcoming people to the festivities. Many of the faces were familiar to him from his days in the Alliance, particularly that of Jonyna Si . A reminder that while that government had fallen, its heroes and protectors remained, ready to answer the call. Even as they scattered through the galaxy, those paladins of freedom merely cast a wider net to catch the encroachments of darkness.

He joined Ra in her walk towards the dais, his tail flicking behind him and sending a small flurry of snowflakes away from him. Even as thoughts of the wars around filled the back of his mind, he found it necessary to devote his focus to things of joy in moments like this. Life Day was a time of celebration, and he would brook no negativity or ill reminders, even from himself. Rather, he placed on his most winning smile as he made another diplomatic debut.

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Axilla, Ukatis
Tags: Aurelian Veruna

"Careful, Mister Veruna," Adelle said, dangerously soft but still playful. "I'm very competitive. I might just have to ask for a rematch in the dueling ring there."

They walked away from the axe-throwing lanes and into the throngs of festival-goers. Adelle raised her eyebrows when he mentioned a 'Cora' instead of Sibylla. Based on the invitation, he must mean the Dowager Princess Corazona von Ascania and use of a diminutive name meant he was on familiar terms with her, rather than just strictly professional. Either Aurelian was playing at being dumb or was actually being dumb and missing who Adelle meant.

That was fine. That wasn't a potential weakness she particularly wanted to expose. In public.

She did wonder how they made their professional lives work as she reached up to rub the chin of the 'ice gremlin' on her shoulders.

Aurelian led the way to a stall decorated in red and gold, the fragrance of spice heavy in the air. She followed but before she could reach into her own pockets to pay, the drinks were already purchased and he was handing one to her with mock gravity. Adelle accepted it with an equally unserious flourish, Phantom looking rather unimpressed by their antics.

Companionable silence fell between them as they walked away from the vendor and further into the rather quaint and picturesque market. Adelle took a sip of the mulled drink, feeling its heat cascade down her throat and radiate out. She hadn't realized how cold she'd actually been until that sip. Her breath escaped in voluminous clouds of steam, rolling up into the air until they dissipated.

"So," he said, his tone smoothing into something genuinely curious, "tell me where you come from. And how you ended up following the Mand'alor." Aurelian's expression dipped into rare, unguarded contemplative interest. "Loyalty like that fascinates me."

There wasn't an angle hidden behind his stated motivations, nothing slick hiding behind the question. Adelle took another sip, wondering how to best answer. Much of her history was not Life Day material--quite the opposite in fact.

"Would you believe," she asked quietly after a moment, "that I was a Jedi master? Small order, an overlooked enclave on a jungle planet out of the way of important routes. I sometimes worked as a liaison agent with CorSec--my father was an officer and thought nothing of using nepotism if it meant they got who they were after. The Jedi and the CorSec team . . . They were probably the closest thing I had to family for most of my remembered life. But--" she said, sighing heavily and sending more clouds tumbling on their way, "--my Order made a decision or lack thereof that I couldn't stand in good conscience. I left, mmm, close to two years ago now? Stayed with a couple friends on a farm on Dantooine, took odd jobs to help pay my way."

Adelle looked down at the spiced drink in her hand, considering the wooden mug. It was the sort of thing Karre Noba would have used on her farm during the compound's festivals celebrating a successful harvest. "But that was before the planeshift. Couldn't find them again and ran out of credits in Mandalorian space."

"I had the honor of meeting the Mand'alor when he offered a job to track down--" His father "--a ghost. He was both like and unlike the Mandos I'd experienced as a Jedi. Accepted my Force use as if I were just another warrior. It . . . intrigued me. Granted, I have a morbid sense of curiosity that's gotten me into trouble more times than I can count--" Coruscant "--but I had to see for myself what he was building. I was welcomed in by Clan Skirata, who themselves have a history of adopting Jedi and other Force users, and . . . yeah, after that, and seeing the Mand'alor follow through on his words, it only seemed natural to find a place to use my skills with them."

Adelle took a slow drink. She hadn't voiced the other reason she'd stayed: when she'd joined the fight against the riots on Taris, when she had accepted the Mand'alor's bounty on his father, when she had met Clan Skirata, she had been utterly alone for a while. Constantly searching for the last fragments of family she'd chosen, constantly disappointed. She didn't even know if they were alive anymore.

She'd needed a place to stop drifting and land.

"You thinking of joining up when this business of being Chancellor and King ends?" she asked with a small smile, unwilling to let the moment settle into something heavy and leaden. A Life Day festival was not the place for sad stories.

 

[Ra'a'mah]

Ra'a'mah's steps slowed just enough that she and Vulpesen moved in perfect tandem, snow whispering beneath their boots. Lantern-light warmed the copper-and-crimson fall of her hair, each drifting flake settling briefly before melting into the strands. When he spoke, she turned her head slightly toward him, a soft, knowing breath shaping her expression.

"It is easy to forget them," she murmured. "Holidays. Peace. Anything that asks us to be, rather than to shape or defend."

A pause followed—small, but sincere.

"Even I require reminders, now and again. And this seemed a moment worth answering."

Her gaze lifted over the Ovli Market, absorbing the gentle bustle, the shimmer of crystalline Life Day orbs, the warmth of families gathered beneath the drifting snow. She did not often place herself in moments built for joy rather than strategy—but with Vulps at her side, the constant edge of vigilance eased, if only slightly.

As his attention shifted toward the dais, Ra followed his line of sight. Corazona stood there, bathed in lantern glow, receiving guests with practiced composure. Nearby, the recognizable figure of Jonyna Si offered well-wishes, her very presence a subtle but meaningful reinforcement of ties Ra had been quietly cultivating.

"Jonyna Si," Ra observed softly. "Even if her role in the Protectorate is not active, her presence strengthens our ties. Some voices carry weight simply by standing in a room."

Her attention returned to the Valde. Warm lamplight caught the amber in her eyes as they walked, illuminating the faint sheen of melted snow along her cloak's dark fabric. For a quiet moment, she watched him—the familiar steadiness of him, the unspoken alignment between their strides, the way the crowd naturally parted around them.

"And you," she added, her tone lowering with deliberate gentleness, "deserve moments such as this—perhaps more than you allow yourself. Even when you forget to claim them."

Snow drifted again across her shoulders as she inclined her head toward the dais, a composed gesture inviting him forward.

"Come. Let us greet the Princess. It would not do for her to think we hid ourselves away to avoid the ceremony."

A faint, private curl of a smile touched her mouth.

"It is Life Day, after all. One can allow a few minutes of joy."

Together they stepped forward—Ra's cloak brushing softly against his coat, their movements perfectly aligned—as the warm lights and drifting snow of the celebration gathered around them like a welcome. Before them, the market thrummed with color and life; behind them, purpose waited patiently for the night to end.

Here, for now, Ra allowed light to insist on being found.

Vulpesen Jonyna Si Corazona von Ascania

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Solaina Embarri //: Dominic Praxon //:
//: Attire //:

Interesting.

The Echani easily watched the way their eyes moved, the way their faces twitched at the sight of each other — at the sight of her. She could almost hear the stress or whatever the awkwardness that filtered through the air between the three of them. The Princess never let anything stray on her face as she shook the supposed Miss Embarri's hand. Her eyes only showed her annoyance that Mr. Praxion felt he needed to answer the question posed to the woman.

Typical noble men.

"A private room?" Quinn questioned.

This wasn't part of the initial meeting negotiations. She had chosen a public place for a particular reason. Raising an eyebrow, she looked at the pair and assessed her chances for escape if necessary. Embarri would be an unfortunate loss, but the galaxy could do without more noble men. Dominic would be a casualty that no one would mourn.

It was as if the Republic knew nothing of subtle conversation that could pass quietly among the crowds. This was either a move to protect his own assets or a trap for her. She knew coming here was a risk — particularly coming alone. Quinn was still wanted for questioning for stabbing the pin-cushion prince.

She mulled over the situation; it was one she could easily find her way out of if necessary. There was even the choice of walking away from it all. But the chance of having Senator Praxion and now his lackey of an Engineer in her pocket was too lovely a deal to pass up. The Princess's smile tightened as she nodded.

"I understand, it seems subtlety is not something they teach in the noble schools of the Republic." Her words lingered as she fell into step with the pair. Wherever they met, it would be private and warm. A small, but telling indicator that neither could touch the Force. Another bonus for the Sith.

She walked casually, her hands behind her back as she admired the stalls and the lights. Quinn found herself missing Eshan more now, but her mind refocused quickly as her stride caught up with Senator Praxion.

"I was surprised someone of your caliber, Senator, would reach out." Her cadence was almost teasing as her voice lowered to a whisper. "I do hope this isn't a foolish attempt at arresting me," she said, looking at him, then back at the woman. Quinn let her gaze linger for just a moment before she spoke.

"It would be a pity to sour such a holiday." Her smile widened as she let her attention shift entirely to the woman.

"Mind if I ask some of your credentials, Ms. Embarri? Have you worked with the topic before? Or is your knowledge theoretical?"

 

[Makko Vyres]

MAKKO

Cora gave him a look. She didn't say anything, which was an important part of the look.

The slightest tilt of his head was all the response he needed to offer. He still reached out and gave her hand a little squeeze. He wouldn't leave her to this alone, even if he really worried about where Roman had gone on the horse.

"Miss Cora." A small greeting. Persephone had noticed something else too, a baby bump. "Knocked up I see. " Tone carried the same approval one might have about a teenage pregnancy. Gaze flitted over to the dark haired man. "You're the father? Or Miss Cora's attendant? I suppose both could be true..."

. "My husband, Jedi Knight Makko Vyres, and I are pleased to celebrate the impending birth of our daughter."

With a teacher-firm voice, she gestured to the man sitting to her left. Then, because it was important, "We've been married for a year."

Makko pressed his lips as tightly together as he possibly could. Even then, the choked laugh managed to escape from his nose. He reached over to take the glass of water from Cora as she coughed it up.

For a moment he wondered why she had specified the length of the marriage. He couldn't believe how quickly that year had gone.

The he realised she was explaining it was not a forced, shotgun wedding. They had been fooling around in the academy long before Horace and her arranged marriage had been in the picture.

Makko smoothed out his expression.

"Nice to meet you," he said.

Jonyna took a breath.

"You'll have to remind me. I've done too much fighting for my own memory to keep up with."

"It was a long time ago," Makko said. "We got caught in an ambush"

“Well, some things are easier to face when you know someone else is watching out for you.” A memory of simpler days. “I hope it will give her courage.. my niece, when she needs it.”

Her brother had brought Sith to the ceremony, but he couldn't imagine anyone would cause any trouble. Even his conversation with Lysander on a far away sith station hadn't afforded him full understanding of how he had ended up down that path.

"It's good to see you all," Makko offered as they left. He hoped they would see more of Lysander. Although there was no shortage of aunts and uncles for their daughter.

Hey Kiddo. This is for your impending kiddo. A plush of an Aak dog like Buster, but in a Taun Taun costume. He also showed her the “reservation/certificate” that there is an actual Gallinorese Mountain Aak Dog puppy waiting for them when she is ready to give them a buddy.

"Between the horse and the dog, she'll start her own little farm," Cora mused. "Though I daresay that a puppy is more appropriate than a fully grown mare," she added in a murmur that wouldn't carry far beyond the dais and into any prying noble ears.

Makko had to cover a snort of a laugh again. Somewhere, within line of sight, a noble would be commenting on his suitability to be Corazona's husband and father of their child.

"Thank you so much Connel," he said, grinning from ear to ear.

He joined Ra in her walk towards the dais, his tail flicking behind him and sending a small flurry of snowflakes away from him. Even as thoughts of the wars around filled the back of his mind, he found it necessary to devote his focus to things of joy in moments like this. Life Day was a time of celebration, and he would brook no negativity or ill reminders, even from himself. Rather, he placed on his most winning smile as he made another diplomatic debut.

Together they stepped forward—Ra's cloak brushing softly against his coat, their movements perfectly aligned—as the warm lights and drifting snow of the celebration gathered around them like a welcome.

Makko spared a glance for other who were slowly approaching.

 

[Jonyna Si]

TAGS: Corazona von Ascania Makko Vyres Ra'a'mah Vulpesen​

"Appreciated." Jonyna smiled at the princess, before chuckling. "So at what point do you become Queen? I'm unfamiliar with how royalty works here. I-"

There was a pause as Jonyna looked to Makko. "Oh, wow, yeah that was a while ago. I completely forgot about that. Thank Sylvar for Dice that day, we'd have both been mincemeat."

Jonyna paused, as two figures approached. Ra'a'mah, part of the Protectorate that she really should be doing more with, and-

"Oh, ew, who let the dog out?" She said, smirking coyly torwards Vulpesen as he approached. "Hey nerd. How's the kingdom going? Imperials knocking at your door again?"

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

​

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

Myra's expression softened the moment she heard the disappointment in Makai's voice. She slowed her steps just enough that their shoulders brushed, turning towards him just so that the warm lantern glow caught the curve of her smile.

"Oh, love," she murmured, moving closer, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, "we're still making our ornaments. That tradition is not going anywhere, I promise you."

She thought back to last year when they hand painted their ornaments and got paint and glitter all over the place. It had been fun.

"I was only thinking..." she added as her eyes drifted toward a nearby stall filled with delicate glasswork, "that we might pick up one special ornament. Something we can add to, not replace our tradition with."

Just likt that, Myra's smile turned into an excited and almost conspiratorial grin.

"What if we found a beautiful hand-blown glass sphere…and used it to hold a tiny living biosphere? Just a bit of that bioluminescent algae we discovered during our excursion. Imagine how it'll glow on the tree. Like little pockets of starlight."

She bumped his shoulder lightly.

"Homemade ornaments are still happening, Makai. Sticky fingers, glitter disasters, handprints for all the grandparents. But maybe this year we add one glowing little piece that's ours."

A soft hum followed. "Tradition stays intact. I promise."

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

Objective I - Lights of the Ovli Market
Interacting with: Dominique Vexx
Mood: Well, that was interesting.

"I'm well..." Sibylla assured although the laugh that followed carried a touch of disbelief. She shook her head slowly, gathering herself as she peered past Dominique with mild concern.

"One simply does not expect a horse to come barreling down the Market," she said dryly. The absurdity of it all warmed her in an odd, unexpected way. She thought she'd need to look out for assassins not wild riding mounts running amuck.

The rider thankfully, had managed to stagger to his feet, while a young woman had already taken the horse firmly in hand. The great white animal now stood calmer beneath her steady guidance.

A moment later recognition struck.

"Is that... Junior Ambassador Liana Organa?" Sibylla murmured, surprise lifting her brows. Another look confirmed it.

"Well, it seems Ambassador Organa has things well in hand." She nodded discreetly toward the pair, Roman Vossari and Liana Organa framed by drifting snow.

"Would you believe the last time I saw her was during the Senate attack, when we barely managed to fend off those Black Sun Syndicate members?" The memory of that day and how it ended with Kalantha's kidnapping, the Magistrate's death, and everything in the wake of it before she dismissed it with a small shake of her head.

"At any rate you are right, we should greet them if only to ensure they are unharmed."

Sibylla let her gaze drift back to Lady von Ascania at the dais, surrounded by the press of well-wishers. The line had not grown any shorter.

"We can always return later once the crowd thins," she added, offering the reassurance with a gentle smile as she turned back to Dominique, once again claiming her arm with bright joy glowing over her face.

"Come, let me introduce you. It may serve Denon well to strengthen ties with Alderaan, especially now, with the Alliance's shift. They may soon need more allies as the Empire draws nearer."

 

[Dominique Vexx]

Dominique turned her attention away from where Cora sat to those that had caught Sibylla's eye. Before she had figured out which person her companion meant and thought to respond, she already had. It did indeed appear to be Liana Organa. "Yes, curious," the Denonite remarked of her own accord. "The man with her appears to be of the Vossari family." They hadn't met personally. Still, he'd been in a number of circumstances she'd had her eyes on personally. One of which being quite the noble assembly.

A very small profile snapped into existence on the inside of Dominique's lilac shades. All that was needed was a quick check for a security risk, but as he wasn't labeled a threat she dismissed the write-up with a flick of an eyelash.

A quiet laugh with a harder than normal edge to it accompanied Sibylla's reminiscence. "Hard to forget." Having been trapped out in front of the Assembly Chambers with blaster bolts, grenades, and every other thing flying about, Dominique certain hardly forgotten it. "I take it she handled the circumstances well then." Sibylla's tone didn't belie disgust or dismay, so given the circumstances must have been well enough. They were politicians and corporate executives, not soldiers.

Greet them? Dominique looked over at Sibylla. Liana Organa and Roman Vossari ? That hadn't been what she'd meant at all. She nearly said as much when Sibylla took her arm again with a warm smile. "You truly are far too kind, Sibylla. And yet I can't bring myself to change that." Honestly, concerned about the crowd and whose turn it might be. No point in trying to force her friend to the head of the line if was just going to ruin the mood between her and Cora.

"When you put it that way, my Dear, how could I possible refuse?" Dominique patted Sibylla Abrantes 's hand as they started in Liana's direction. "I'll have to reassure them that Denon's openness should prove fruitful to Alderaan." Companies on her world were, of course, welcome to deal even with worlds in the Galactic Empire, and the Empire itself. Although, recent events with that Death Star had imposed a few more legal hurdles to manage. Hardly a problem. Denon was well accomplished in processing paperwork and negotiating legal matters. And if that failed... As Dominique had said once to Marlon Sularen , Denon would still find a way to meet its obligations. Dominique patted Sibylla's hand a second time seemingly unbidden as the Denonite smiled.

 

[Ala Quin]

His words...It is embarrassing when you call me that in front of everyone...landed softer than snow on her skin. All the feigned outrage, the pretend-wounded quiver of her lip… it evaporated in an instant.

Ala’s expression softened. Her staff lowered. Her breath caught. And she stepped toward him, closing the space he’d left open.

“Oh…Lorn…” she whispered, the sound slipping out without performance, without pretense.

Her hand rose, hesitant, tender, and settled lightly against the very same ab she’d struck moments before, “Harry”. Her thumb brushed in a small, worried arc, as though feeling for harm beyond his words.

She lifted her gaze then, wide and earnest, nothing weaponized about it now. No act. Just concern,warm and painfully sincere.

“And…I remember our conversation,” she added softly, leaning in so only he could hear. “The one about not using bedroom-time nicknames in public…”

Her cheeks warmed at the memory. Stars, they’d had so many of those names...to be fair he got most of them.

She kept her tone gentle, not teasing, just honest.

“You told me not to call you...." She caught herself, and her cheeks flushed redder than the cold could muster.

She didn’t elaborate, despite her mind wandering to her long list of names for his...parts.

“But you never said,” she continued, confusion softening her brow, “that I couldn’t call you Mr. Quin. You never told me that name bothered you. At least...I don't remember that.”

Her hand shifted slightly over his abdomen, featherlight...apologetic.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed, “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I won’t say it again if it hurts.”

Her face flickered with vulnerability.

“…but can you tell me why? I want to understand.”

Her eyes, once theatrically shimmerin, were truly dewy now, open and searching.

The duel was forgotten for the moment. It was just them.

| Tag: Lorn Reingard |
​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti Acier Moonbound Varin Mortifer​

Well, the encounter with his sister passed with an ease Lysander hadn’t quite predicted. Any concern hadn’t been for himself.. he rarely fretted over appearances.. but for her, for the way she might read him arriving among other Sith. Perhaps it was unnecessary, this worry, but shared blood made it real.

The journey into the Ovli Market was swift. As they drew closer to the range, he saw the axes resting in their racks and the bows leaning against the stands; instinct whispered toward the familiar rhythm of the bow, memories hunting in Ukatis’ woods tugging at him. But he reached for an axe first. It felt foreign in his hands, the balance uneven, especially compared to the longswords and lightsabers he knew so well.

A glance was flicked at the trip while testing the balance once more. “The noble art of flinging sharp wood at walls.. clearly a skill I’ve not honed in secret,” he spoke dryly, drawing a few raised eyebrows from others nearby. Maybe his aim would improve with each catastrophic failure.

“Or, in case you’ve always wondered what it’s like to fight an inanimate wall, today you’ll have your answer. Truly.. destiny unfolds.” He shifted the axe while calculating the throw in the back of his mind.

Another inhale, this time without thought passing through, and he let the axe leave his grasp. The arc he imagined in his mind had no resemblance to what actually happened. It veered wildly before slapping against the wall with a hollow clang before bouncing to the snow.

 

[Reina Daival]

Tag: In Post
Objective: Ukatis


That voice. Reina took in a deep breath, doing her best to try and keep herself relaxed, as the second worst person in the Galaxy to show up next to her...did so. Of course she was here. It made sense. But that didn't mean Reina was going to be anymore relaxed. There were dozens of words she wanted to say towards her ex-master...but she deemed it unnecessary to waste her breath. Her time was precious as she was learning alone. She had learned a fair bit whilst she was alone, as she kept her gaze away from Colette

"Mhm."

That was all she said in response. Especially as she watched someone she thought was her friend leave without any form of acknowledgement. Reina clenching her jaw for a moment as she watched Acier Moonbound leave with those she assumed were Sith...or at least troublemakers, considering that dragon-lad was with him. She gave a long exasperated sigh in frustration, pinching the bridge of her nose as she was allowing the fake mask of smiles to fade.

"If that's all. I'm going to be heading off."

Reina's celebration of life-day was over now. It was time for her to get back to her ship and get off world as soon as she could.
​

 

[Ravion Corvalis]

Ravion walked beside her as the noise of the market thinned into something gentler, something almost private. Snow settled in soft spirals around their steps, dusting the edges of lantern-light and blurring the sound of laughter behind them. It was a strangely fitting backdrop for what Thessaly revealed next.

When she spoke of the her mother, her acquisition of a new favoured piece Ravion’s gaze shifted, sharpened, and then steadied on the path ahead. The reaction was quiet, but unmistakable: recognition, and a glimmer of satisfaction beneath it.

"Ah I would be remiss revealing the purchase trends of my clients." he said. It would be all the entertaining confirmation she would need.

He let the thought breathe a moment, absorbing the implication. The Duchess’s exhibition was merely a stage; one that a spotlight had been arranged at the precise angle needed to catch someone off guard. And Thessaly intended the show to be public.

"She did however choose this rather exquisite and rare piece, her words were along the lines of ‘I simply could not’." he continued. There was a calmness to his tone, not full of coldness exactly, but the composure of a man accustomed to watching people unravel from a safe and measured distance.

They passed beneath a crooked string of lanterns, their glow flickering across her fur-lined coat. Ravion’s voice dropped slightly, the cadence tightening into something more deliberate.

"I’ve also heard that she means your brother to be there. Some would say it’s too blunt, parading around the poor boy." A breath of winter curled between them as he considered the targets. "I fear it’s artistry will be lost on Aurelian. Your brother will do what he always does. Hide behind his own fear."
He offered a slight pause.
"As for the Abrantes girl… she wears sincerity like armour, not realising how easily it cracks. She is dangerous though."

His expression remained composed, but there was a quiet curiosity behind it; admiration for the precision of Thessaly’s intent.

"Do you intend to be there when it reveals itself, I shall be. I wouldn’t miss it for the galaxy."

Only then did Ravion look at Thessaly directly. Not long. Just long enough to acknowledge her elegant posture and presence alongside him.

"You understand the theatre of humiliation better than most. The artistry of letting a room watch someone discover their own misstep."

The corner of his mouth lifted, a concession to the pleasure of shared scheming.

"If you wish, I would love to have you join me as an extension of the invitation from my Senatorial Office?"
A heartbeat that passed through an eternity.
"I have my own steps ahead of me that having someone I can truly confide in would be a welcome distraction.”

His arm adjusted just slightly beneath hers, a gesture not of guidance but of alignment.

Thessaly Veruna​

 

[Cassian Abrantes]

OBJ:2
Shade ​

Cassian didn't laugh, but only because laughing would have broken the fragile, electric thread running between them. Instead, a low breath escaped him, warm in the cold air, the kind that signaled amusement far more intimately than any grin. Shade's reminder, settled into him with the exact blend of fondness and awe he could never quite put into words. She teased him.

And that meant more than any bullseye ever could.

"Yes," he answered quietly, sincerity threading through every syllable. "He's enthusiastic. He's hopeful. And most of all, hes good." Cassian chuckled lightly as he looked back to where he had dissappeared to. Before her words brougth him back to the center of them.

'Watch closely'

Cassian felt a slow, inevitable smile spread across his face, not boyish, not showy, but something deep, something warm, something that lived only for her. He stepped to her side as she returned, lowering his voice again so the world couldn't steal a single word.

"That," he murmured, "was flawless." His hand found hers, gentle, certain, proud.

"If Elian had any doubts about you," he continued with a soft, teasing warmth, "They just died on that target."