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

[Aiden Porte]

Arhiia Voronwe​

Aiden ducked just in time for a snowball to sail over his shoulder and explode harmlessly against a vendor's stall. It splattered across a stack of Ukatisian sweetbreads, dusting them with a perfect layer of powder, and the vendor shouted something halfhearted about "collateral damage."

"Collateral noted!" Aiden called back, voice bright with laughter as he crouched behind an overturned sled, his cloak dusted white. Around him, his own squad of younglings crouched in a loose semicircle, half giggling, half trembling with mock terror at the flurry of snowballs raining from Arhiia's position.

He risked a glance over the edge of the sled. There she was. Arhiia stood at the heart of her snow fortress like a winter goddess, cloak swirling, braid swinging, cheeks pink with cold and adrenaline. Her hand lifted, and the snow moved.

Aiden pressed his back against the half-buried sled, snow pelting the wood in rapid-fire pops as Arhiia's latest volley rained down from her command post. A tiny human youngling, cheeks flushed, eyes wide with theatrical despair, threw himself against Aiden's leg.

"Master Porte!" he wailed. "They're too strong! We're doomed!"

Aiden's laugh burst out of him before he could stop it, bright and incredulous. "Too strong?" he echoed, scooping the youngling up under the arms and turning him to face the battlefield like he was presenting a prized trophy. "Nonsense! We have a contingency plan!"

The rest of the kids blinked, eyes widening as Aiden lifted the youngling higher, holding him out dramatically toward Arhiia's snowy fortress. "We offer this brave soldier as tribute in exchange for our safety!" The youngling let out a shriek of outrage, flailing midair.

"MASTER! NO!!" Aiden doubled over laughing, as he shook his head and set him back down, taking cover back behind the sled. "I'm kididing, we aren't sacrificing anyone. Right now, we strike back"

Excited squeals erupted around him as a dozen tiny hands dove into the snow. And with laughter warming his chest, Aiden rose into the snowy fray once more. With a flick of his wrist, the snowballs he gathered streaked skyward, curving high, then falling in a graceful arc over her drift. They exploded in soft bursts, showering her command post with harmless powder. The younglings on both sides erupted in shrieks of amazement.

"General. You give up yet?" Aiden called out towards Arhiia with a laugh and big smile. He couldn't truly remember the last time he laughed this much, but he was glad it was happening now.

 

[Shade]

Shade regarded Elian with a stillness so calm it bordered on regal, though the faint—very faint—curve at one corner of her mouth suggested she was not entirely immune to his theatrical charm. Snowlight brushed across her features as she lifted her mug again, the steam rising between them like a thin veil of heat in the winter air.

When she finally spoke, her tone carried that precise, cool cadence unique to her—measured, even, but softened at the edges in a way that was reserved for very few.

"Tell me, Elian Abrantes," she murmured, one brow lifting a fraction, "did you find time to practice before coming here tonight?"

The question hung between them, delicate as falling snow yet sharpened with unmistakable intent. Not a challenge—not yet—but an assessment. She took another sip of her drink, eyes never leaving his, unblinking, quietly amused.

"If you did not," she continued with that same subtle lift of tone that passed, for her, as playfulness, "then perhaps delaying our match would be in your best interest."

She let that settle, just long enough for Cassian to shift beside her—a soft breath, a suppressed laugh, the faint warmth of pride radiating from him like a controlled flame.

Then Shade turned slightly, angling her body toward him while still keeping Elian within her peripheral vision. Her hand brushed lightly against Cassian's, deliberate and grounding.

"What about you?" she asked, her voice lowering in that way she rarely allowed in public. "Would you prefer we stay and watch your brother attempt to impress both of us… or join another part of the festivities?"

She held his gaze, steady and unflinching, a silent invitation threaded beneath her words.

"Your choice matters."

To Elian, it was a simple question.

To Cassian, it was something far more intimate—a rare acknowledgment that she was deferring to him, not out of uncertainty, but out of quiet, intentional trust.

And that trust warmed the winter air more than the hot chocolate ever could.

Cassian Abrantes Elian Abrantes

 

[Thessaly Veruna]

She controlled the pace, ambling along predetermined path. Her free hand rested on the arm that so carefully pulled hers to himself. Her fingers picked at the thread of his coat, finding it to be of reasonable enough quality.

"You speak boldly, dear Senator," her eyebrows perked. Make no mistake, it was pleasant to hear someone speak so plainly about the ones she despised so fully, but it was unwise. She felt...disappointed.

Still, she could not resist her own whispered venom. "Whatever Aurelian and Sibylla are doing, it isn't politics. It's foreplay. But let them. They distract each other far better than anything I could arrange."

She smiled to a passerby, who smiled by. The peasant passed by, and Thessaly snarled in disgust. "Your compliments are unnecessary, and presumptuous. I seek no awards for my achievements. Give me none," her eyes wandered to his jawline, "let's not get ahead of ourselves."

She saw the way he looked at her. And welcomed it. Allowing him to feel useful, and needed, was likely all that he would need. If he needed more, he was likely worth the...output.

"I accept your invitation wholeheartedly, Senator," she said with calm assurance, "you are too kind."

She squeezed his arm, directing his attention towards an artists display. It was not something that particularly interested her, but more to maintain the image of a perusing noble.

"And Parrlay is open to your attendance should you wish to discuss matters further."

Ravion Corvalis​

 

[Ala Quin]

For a moment, Ala simply stared at him. Truly stared. Her breath caught in her chest, her fingers soft and warm over the ab she’d struck. His confession hung between them. Marriage was not something they had really...talked...about.

“Oh…Lorn…” she whispered. Sincerity covered every twitch of her face. She shifted closer, almost instinctively, as if trying to shield him from the eyes watching them.

“It was a joke,” she murmured, voice barely audible beneath the murmuring crowd. “I didn’t mean anything so serious by it. I promise.”

Her eyes lifted to his. They were wide, earnest, shimmering and searching for hints in his eyes. “But…” Her breath trembled, “I do really, really, really like your last name.” A shy flush warmed her cheeks. “Like...really.”

She let the silence rest between them, not pushing, not withdrawing. Simply being there.

Then...with all the grace of a snowflake settling...Ala's expression brightened. The gentleness remained, but something playful and determined sparked beneath it. She slipped her arm through his, tugging it around her waist with surprising decisiveness. And she snuggled into him, hiding from the cold that now encroached upon her.

Her chin lifted. Her voice rang out. “Actually,” she announced with utter conviction, “I won the duel.”

Before Lorn could protest, she tugged him, firmly, toward the edge of the arena, staff tucked under her arm, her fingers curled around him like she had absolutely no intention of letting go.

"Come on," she said, cheeks warm, eyes sparkling. "We're done. You're cold, I'm muddy, and the soup vendor looks ready to sell us something warm."

And with that, the Grandmaster led him away from the ring...before she broke away from Lorn and in a rush swiped up her coat, scarf and snow pants...and then snuggled back into him, while holding the wet and muddy clothes at an arm length away from them both. "You are buying me a new coat..."

| Tag: Lorn Reingard |
​

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Open to Visitors!
​

"I'll be back tomorrow instead. When we can talk alone. So, you know, be prepared."

"I'd like that," Cora responded warmly. Colette wasn't one for large crowds, and it would be easier for the both of them to catch up when they weren't distracted by the buzz of the festival. "Be well, Colette. I've missed you."

"Best of luck then Miss Cora." Genuine that time. Persephone wasn't a total b!tch. Gaze drifted to Burlap Husband Makko Vyres Makko Vyres "Don't put the baby in burlap. She's innocent."

"I would never," came her huffed response, with just enough mirth to be playful. Burlap? For an infant? A line has to be drawn somewhere.

"Persephone and I are just friends," he clarified calmly, not defensive, simply factual. "But she's… kinder than she lets on. Blunt, yes. Honest always. And a good person to have in your corner."

And a bit of a smug brat, came the unbidden thought that stayed sealed behind her lips. What had happened to the sweet girl she'd met on Coruscant? Perhaps they weren't so different after all.

"Enjoy the rest of your Name Day festivities. And congratulations again, to you both."

Cora dipped her head to Kiran and Persephone.

"Thank you both for coming. Please, enjoy the festival - I hear that the axe throwing is particularly popular this year.”

"So at what point do you become Queen? I'm unfamiliar with how royalty works here. I-"

"I won't," Cora answered. "Not unless King Fabian fails to produce an heir before he passes on."

Which, in truth, was something that made her a little anxious given that the King was rumored to prefer the company of knights over maidens. After her father's failed rebellion, he'd been chosen specifically to warm the throne with his softer nature. A sharp contrast to his gluttonous predecessor, but at least they'd been able to construct a skeleton of progress on Ukatis.

Ascania territory had been the testing grounds for Republic-backed farming initiatives, and their fields had seen surplus for the first time in decades. Already, there were plans to construct the first women's college within their borders.

Cora had to remind herself to thank Sibylla Abrantes for her work in procuring Morodin fertilizer for them to trial.

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. Before them, the market thrummed with color and life; behind them, purpose waited patiently for the night to end.

"Good evening," Cora addressed the pair with a warm smile as they approached the dais. A man and a woman, the former somewhat familiar and the latter beautiful. "Are you enjoying the festival?"

Jonyna certainly seemed familiar enough with the man to joke, which had Cora once again filing through her mental catalogue of galactic figures.

"Pardon if I'm incorrect but…you are a Wilder of Veradune, are you not?" His particular features were enough to stir a recollection- particularly, a visit she's paid to Veradune with the Alliance in years past.

 

[Vulpesen]

"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."

"So everyone keeps telling me," Vulpesen offered dryly. Lucas, his father, his kids, Harlow, Ace, and at times, the entire council were always seeming to send him off on some new retreat. Of course, it didn't last long before said council was begging for him to return. Then there was the board of directors he'd appointed for his arms company. And the perpetual missions that he felt the callings for in the force. All in all, it seemed that the Valde's schedule was often split into more time than a standard day would allow. Perhaps they had a point. He needed the reminders.

"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?"

"Good to see you, kitty cat. And we're technically an Alliance. Just, on a planetary scale. Imperials haven't knocked yet, but I expect they will once we start crashing some of their parties. Maybe you'll find time to join us." His relationship with Jonyna was, perhaps, best described as complicated. He trusted her with his life and certainly the lives of others. She was a great warrior who had proven to be quite dependable. More and more, she even seemed to be leaning towards his philosophies. That however, did little to settle the rivalry that had formed between them, born of her early idealism and his desire to not see her dead on some distant battlefield.

"Good evening," Cora addressed the pair with a warm smile as they approached the dais. A man and a woman, the former somewhat familiar and the latter beautiful. "Are you enjoying the festival?"

His attention turned towards Corazona von Ascania and Makko Vyres , offering them both a bright smile. "Happy life day, your Highness. You seem to be thriving since I last saw you. I can't say I've had much time to enjoy the festivities, but the night is young." He hadn't been particularly close with the royals during the time of the Galactic Alliance, though such had been more due to a separation of duties than any sense of adversity. Rather, when the Ukatian princess appeared in his reports, he was generally rather pleased with what he saw.

Her question as to his force tradition did draw out a small chuckle due to the the nature of its understatement. "An Archwilder, yes. On a more political note, I've had the honor of serving as Veradune's Valde for some some few decades, now." As she was a monarch and a jedi, so too was he more than any single profession.

Jonyna Si Ra'a'mah

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Ala Quin​

Lorn allowed himself to be pulled away. Ala had looped her arm through his and tucked herself against his side with that mix of stubbornness and warmth that always completely disarmed him. The crowd was still murmuring and stealing glances, but Ala's grip anchored him more effectively than any tactical move.

He exhaled slowly, letting the tension bleed out of his shoulders as they stepped out of the arena's ring. Her earlier words still resonated within him: "I really, really like your last name." He shouldn't have been so pleased by that, but he was.

"You did not win the duel," he said, even as he adjusted his arm to wrap around her more securely, drawing her into his warmth. "You simply declared a strategic retreat and claimed victory on the way out." Her laugh warmed the cold from his ribs.

The vendor waved them over, ladle already poised, but Lorn paused, tugging Ala slightly closer so he could look at her properly. There was mud on her cheek and snowflakes melting in her hair. The brightness in her eyes hit him with the same force as any strike she'd landed in the duel.

"I know it was a joke. But thank you. For not laughing at me." He wasn't just embarrassed; he was relieved and felt truly seen and accepted in a way he still didn't know how to reconcile with a life built on restraint. Her fingers tightened around his.

He let out a slow breath and dipped his head, brushing a kiss to her temple before he could overthink it. "And yes," he added, his voice low, "I'll buy you a new coat. Preferably one you can't destroy in under five minutes."

He let her steer him toward warmth, toward food, toward the easy brightness she carried wherever she went. Lorn didn't look back at the watching crowd. He only looked at her.

 

[Phillip Slate]

Tags: Isla Reingard Abishai Jade

Phillip brought himself to a stop to take the bag from the woman, almost instinctively. Giving her a short nod of thanks before Phillip looked around, having lost Isla as she had ran through the crowd after...someone. Who it was? Phillip had no clue. There was a part of him that wanted to look through the bag and snoop through Isla's belongings...but he shook that thought of his head quickly. No amount of curiosity would be enough to invade a friend's privacy like that.

One thought that he couldn't get out of his mind was the one that wondered if this was all he was good for however. A designated bag holder. A bag "rescuer". He hadn't even bothered to try and keep up with Isla. Instead doing what she had asked him to. Whilst on one hand, it was a good thing since he was able to keep her bag safe, on the other hand...It wasn't really that much in his eyes. It wasn't impressive.

Karablast. Why did he care so much? It was something that Phillip needed to wrap his head around but he just couldn't. The Padawan shook his head, looking over towards the woman with a halfhearted smile, jabbing his thumb behind himself back in the direction he and Isla had came from.

"If she comes back...Tell her I'm back at the axethrowing. I have a feeling that she's not going to need me."

And with that, he made the trek back over towards the axe throwing stand. Letting his gaze focus on his surroundings. Maybe he could distract himself by imagining what he could draw...

 

[Dominique Vexx]

Dominique leaned in a little closer and lowered her voice, "Sibylla, most people haven't accomplished half of what you have with half as much approval by their peers. Your flaws only serve in contrast to your character." There was a pause to smile. "Still, it does not hurt to polish even a diamond." A little humility wouldn't spoil her, but too much was unnecessary in her opinion.

"Me?" Dominique straightened up with lifted brows over her lilac glareshades. She turned her head as if to look for someone else Sibylla could possibly be talking about. She exceeded Sibylla's measure of kindness? Had anyone ever accused Dominique of such before? A slight, rueful shake of the head followed. "Well, I could say very much the same, Dear. That day in the Archives could have gone quite differently in the end. 'Fool' would not have adequately described me had I not recognized just what friend you could be."

Somehow, as a Director of Denon, Dominique wasn't concerned that Sibylla might stab her in the back. It'd be easy enough to do. The Denonite would make a hell of a fight of it, but that didn't always stop unscrupulous people. Rather than suffer that, they'd actually grown closer. At times met just to 'hang out' rather than to satisfy some business need or angle.

With a smile on her lips, Dominique regarded Liana and Roman as the two women drew closer. They seemed to be enjoying a healthy conversation between one another. Well acquainted then. Whether that would matter only time would tell, but the Denonite was a collector of information for the future.

"A pleasant Life Day to you both," she hailed as it should be patently obvious given their proximity Sibylla and her intended to converse with Liana and Roman. "You weren't injured by that rather... lively horse earlier, I hope."

Sibylla Abrantes | Liana Organa | Roman Vossari​

 

[Varin Mortifer]

messed up post apologies

 

[Varin Mortifer]

Ukatis Warrior Challenge (Axe Throwing)

The Cathar offered him opposition with the challenges, the offer caused him to raise his eyebrow, then his gaze looked over to the people throwing axes and shooting bows. His eyes lit up a bit at the sight. Then his gaze fell onto the Cathar.

“You’re on.”

Varin walked with Nir to the axes. He plucked one up from the nearby rack and gave it a good look. Weighted, the handle felt right. He ran his finger over the edge, a little dull. Makes sense giving the younglings about. He looked as everyone else was throwing their axes, some missing unceremoniously other hitting a good mark. What surprised him was Naniti’s effectiveness with the weapon he could see she was not used to. A smirk came to his lips as he looked at Nir again.

“You’ll have to excuse me for the first throw. Warm up round.”

He then quickly looked at the target and threw the axe towards the wall with enough force it seemed to whistle as it neared the wall.

Only for it to bounce off the wall and stick handle first into the ground.

"Hm...usually I'm good at this."

(Roll total of 6)

Nir Si | Lysander von Ascania | Naniti | Acier Moonbound​

 

[Makai Dashiell]

OVLI MARKET

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

Expression softened as he reached out to tuck a piece of mahogany hair behind her her. Curls were collecting snow and her jaunty little cap combo was quite adorable - especially when she was trying to assuage his fears about replacing tradition. Life Day had never really been celebrated growing up. Once his mother had left it was a fishing trip every year with his father. When Ellie came around and they had gotten older there was always a Arceneau - Dashiell get together before the holiday. Now that the pair was making an effort to actually grow a tradition for their own small family, the half-Galan held tightly to the memories they were trying to make.

Homemade ornaments each year being a cornerstone of that.

"Good, because its one of three things I actually look forward to."

The other two being wine gift wrapping night and watching Phoebe open her gifts. Now that their daughter was older and grasping the concept of getting gifts it was fun. Much better than wrapping the diaper box that first year in where she had tried eating the paper.

"A bit of starlight in honor of our Starlight perhaps?" Makai grinned, pulling her close and kissing her temple. "Let's do it. Bioluminescent ornament is perfect for our family. Of course, we will have to grow and feed the algae so maybe in the off season we get a little stand for it too and place it on our kitchen window sill. Something to enjoy year round."

Arm snaked around her, walking towards the hand-blown glass booth. There were several options with little stoppers for putting in items. In their case, glowing algae collected from their time in the Slice. Their first step at a massive project for their future.

"I think the classic orb is the way to go but I'll defer to you since its your idea."

 

[Ra'a'mah]

Ra'a'mah inclined her head to Corazona with smooth, practiced grace as the Dowager Princess addressed them, the movement respectful without being deferential. The warmth of the dais lights caught in the red of her hair as she straightened, her expression composed but genuinely receptive.

"We are," Ra replied calmly, her voice carrying easily without rising above the surrounding cheer. "Ukatis has given the Republic a rare gift tonight—a celebration without pretense. It is…refreshing."

Her gaze flicked briefly across the Ovli Market beyond the dais—lanterns, laughter, shared warmth—before returning to Corazona, attentive and present.

"Life Day is meant to remind us why we endure the harder seasons," she continued, measured and sincere. "You honor that tradition well, Your Highness. And I hope the joy of this evening carries forward—for you, and for the family you are preparing to welcome."

The faintest softening touched her expression then, not indulgent, but human.

"It is good to see Ukatis standing in light again."

Corazona von Ascania Vulpesen Jonyna Si

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Objective I - Lights of the Ovli Market
Interacting with: Dominique Vexx Roman Vossari Liana Organa
Mood: Roman you are a fool

Sibylla smiled and clung a little tighter to Dominique at her compliments, pleasantly flushed at hearing them as much as just grateful for her company.

"Yes, you," Sibylla emphasized with a wider smile. "Truly, I am very grateful for that day. Not only did I find a true friend in you, but that entire chaos with Vere and Set and the archaeological dig..." her voice trailed off, thinking of how that had all turned into its own hot mess.

"Goodness... so much has happened since then," She murmured quietly, realizing that was another thing she had yet to share with Dominique. Another topic that required more privacy.

Truth be told, just another reason to spend time with Dominique and enjoy each other's company. Sibylla had made a decision to be more purposeful with her friendships. Dominque would be the first.

And when Ace finally wanted to reach out to her... then he would be the second.

However, all thoughts fled as Dominique made her introduction, Roman Vossari, pointing at Sibylla and calling he Inez.

Really, can anyone be as much of an utter fool as he?

Sibylla kept her composure pleasantly cordial, if amused, following up Dominique's query of concern with one of her own.

"Junior Ambassador Organa, I hope you are alright. Senator Vexx and I grew concerned after the slight...clash," she added, before turning towards Roman to peer at him as if looking for injury, and not giving any indication that she had been the woman he had fought beside back on Kenari.

"Are you alright?" she asked him, using every bit of noble standing to make it seem as if she were certainly not a House Abrantes retainer he met.

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Aurelian Veruna | Open

He offered teasing commentary in response to some of her story, never interrupting, but something lay under the facade. Something like anger or bitterness and it was hard for Adelle to keep in mind that it was not aimed at her but at the Jedi--that she was no longer Jedi. She could only really remember nine years of her life but nearly all those years had been lived as a Jedi. Adelle took a sip of the mulled cider, burying the defensive kneejerk reaction.

Phantom shook her body free of the fluffy snowflakes accumulating on her black fur, a strange sensation on her shoulders, and Adelle paused for the tiny spukami to settle securely once more. Aurelian gestured to his coat, well-made and more than likely custom-fitted. Money and skill could make any clothing item look good on a person. But his adamant rejection of beskar'gam brought out another smirk.

"Being a pretty corpse is a higher priority for you, got it," she said. When he told her to ask a question, she had to pause and think for a moment.

"What does the interim Chancellor and King of Naboo do for fun?" she asked. "Other than fool combat veterans in games of skill and threaten to price them out of parties." He better not answer with "Sibylla" or I will douse him with my cider.

 

[Elian Abrantes]

Isla Reingard Abishai Jade Phillip Slate Shade
​

Elian was just about to respond to Shade, when he heard the words from afar.

"THIEF!"

"ABISHAI!"

The words hit harder than a warning siren. Elian froze mid-sip of his hot chocolate, blinked once, then twice, the sweet steam curling uselessly in front of his face as his brain caught up to what his ears had just heard.

He didn't know Isla Reingard well, however he did know enough that she did not shout like that unless someone was about to meet an unpleasant, galaxy-altering fate. And now it was echoing across the area.

Elian's gaze darted toward the commotion, and sure enough, there he was, a man tearing through the snow, clutching Isla's bag like it contained the last credits in the galaxy. Lanterns swung wildly as he ducked past vendors, scattering garlands and startled patrons in his wake. The thief's coat was threadbare, his boots mismatched, his expression one of sheer panic.

Elian sighed through his nose, shoulders slumping.

He was not the grand hero type. He didn't have his brothers strength, nor his sisters political wit. Never had been. He wasn't the one who ran toward danger or climbed trees to rescue kittens. He was more the 'offer moral support and witty commentary from a safe distance' kind of man. But this wasn't just anyone. This was Isla.

And he kind of owed her.

He turned sharply, nearly sloshing hot chocolate down his coat as he shoved the mug into Cassian's hands.

"Hold this. I'll be right back."

Cassian chuckled and shook his head. "Elian, what are you—"

"Hero stuff!" Elian blurted, already moving. He took off into the snow, yelling, "Hey you with the face, halt!"

Elian scowled, gathering speed, weaving through the crowd. His boots slipped once on an icy patch, nearly sending him sprawling into a pile of snow-dusted pastries. Regaining balance, he shouted again, voice breaking slightly from the effort.

"Hey! WASABI! STOP!"

A pause, his breath puffing in clouds. "Stop means don't run no more!"

A few heads turned. Someone laughed. Someone else cheered him on. The thief, unfortunately, kept running.

"Stars, he's fast," Elian muttered between gasps, the realization dawning that chasing people in the cold while wearing three layers was possibly the worst decision of his day. Still, momentum carried him forward.

He spotted Isla ahead and Elian darted past her, managing a wheezed, "Hey, Isla," as if they were simply meeting for tea instead of participating in an impromptu criminal pursuit.

"Get him, Elian!" someone shouted from a nearby stall.

Elian gritted his teeth. "I'm trying!"

The crowd thickened, the air filled with the mingled scents of roasted chestnuts, spice bread, and pine oil. His breath came hard now, lungs protesting, but he saw it, an opening ahead. A narrow stretch between two vendor stalls The perfect line and chance.

"Okay," he muttered to himself. "You've got one shot, don't screw this up."

He braced, lengthened his stride, and launched himself forward with all the reckless enthusiasm of a man who had clearly not thought this through.

The dive was spectacular. If luck held, he'd take the thief down cleanly, pin him, recover the bag, maybe even earn a round of applause. If not, he was going to become one with the snowbank deep enough to qualify as a new geological feature of Ukatis.

Either way, as the air rushed past his ears and the lanternlight blurred, Elian committed. And for one heartbeat, arms outstretched, hair whipping, snow rising in a white explosion around him, he almost looked like he knew what he was doing.

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Tags: Adelle Bastiel

Aurelian let out a soft laugh at her jab, lifting his chin with the easy arrogance of someone who used pride as armor. "It's not about being pretty," he said, brushing a snowflake from his coat's lapel with a deliberate flourish. "I look pretty in anything. It's about comfort. Beskar is constricting. You can't breathe in it. You can't move in it. And if I'm going to risk my life, I'd rather do it while able to turn my head."

His gaze slid toward her, the street's lanternlight catching the curve of his smirk. Phantom burrowed into her collar again, and for a moment his eyes tracked the tiny creature with wary fascination. Then Adelle's question hit him, and he turned fully, appearing incredulous.

"What do I do for fun?" he repeated, blinking at her as if she'd asked a ridiculous question. She had met Sibylla. Had seen them on the yacht. He assumed the answer was self-evident on what he liked to do for fun. He shook his head, his smile widening. "I throw excellent parties. I save the Republic on alternating Tuesdays. And I look very good doing it."

The boast landed lightly, softened by the warmth threading through his voice. Steam curled from his mug, drifting between them as they walked.

"And you," he said, angling a look at her from the corner of his eye, "what does a not-Jedi Mandalorian combat veteran do outside of crashing my events?" He took a sip, considering her over the rim. "Or is it true what everyone says? That Mandalorians only yearn for battle?"

The challenge in his tone was curiosity sharpened into something more dangerous, something interested. Aurelian slowed his steps again, letting the snow and lanternlight close around them like a small, private stage.

​

 

[Abishai Jade]

She was relentless. Annoying. Impertinent. And bloody relentless. Despite himself there was a small, and reluctant admiration for her pure doggedness. That was a small part of himself that he hated with a passion.


He turned, eyes lighting with a fire that he knew was within, but rarely came out with such intensity. "You stole it from me, you lying Jedi filth!" He spat, before a brief aversion of his eyes indicated some measure of shame. Everyone was looking at him now. His face turned redder. His breathing more ragged.

Isla was baring down on him. As was another who had entered the incident. It all happened...too quickly...anger took over, and Abishai reached out to Isla with little regard for how or where he grabbed her, and he threw her aside and into the path of the flying Elian. "Leave...me...alone!"

It was hardly the cry of a mighty Sith, nor a dark sider of great power. It was the cry of a wounded, heartbroken young man, whose power in that moment came from that same dark place.

The collision would be brutal. Unpleasant in the extreme. The potential for serious harm was high.

Abishai turned his back on all of it...and ran. Never looking back.

Phillip Slate Isla Reingard Elian Abrantes​

 

[Liana Organa]

Roman Vossari - Sibylla Abrantes - Dominique Vexx​

Liana just nodded along as Roman spoke. He sure liked to talk a lot, but there was something about the way he spoke that she found entertaining, so she was still paying attention even after she would normally become distracted by something else. The way he suddenly spoke about Sibylla made her most curious, "'Inez'?" She echoed, unaware of how the name had any connection to the woman. His tale about Sibylla's supposed escapades on Kedari seemed oddly specific to be made-up, but it was difficult to tell if Roman was just rambling nonsense, or if there was in fact more to this woman than met the eye, "Haven't heard that one yet."

Both Sibylla and Dominique eventually came close enough to speak to properly. Liana gave a respectful bow of her head to both, "To you as well," She answered Dominique. The follow-up from both of them received an expression of momentary confusion, as if she had already forgotten the series of events. Liana looked back at the mare, and snickered, "Oh, yes, I'm just fine. As is the horse. I'm not sure if the same can be said about this one's pride," She flicked her head towards Roman.

"So, did you actually punch a Gen'Dai in the face?"

 

[Persephone Dashiell]

OVLI MARKET

Persephone shrugged at his comment of handling it well. She probably didn't - there had been no need to head over there in the first place. Yet what was done was done, something told her Miss Cora's ego would be well enough to handle any bruising that went her way. Considering the line of non-royals handing gifts over to the rich, something told Persephone things were going to be just fine.

When Kiran Arlos mentioned the cold weather she brushed it off. In her eyes the cold was meant for propping up one's legs in front of a fire and enjoying a hot drink. Persie had spent enough of her youth in uncomfortable conditions and if she had her way it wasn't going to be her first choice. Yet it wasn't her first choice. Kiran pretty much followed her around and it would be unfair at this moment to go back on their deal.

"No, I'm fine." Persephone lied smoothly. Besides, one couldn't shop or watch the meteor shower from indoors. "Let's just go with our original plan. You can lead the way and maybe we can get another hot chocolate as we walk through. You normally follow me around so let me just tag along with you this time."