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

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Aurelian Veruna | Open

Adelle rolled her eyes at his comments on beskar. "Please, drama king, not all of our armor is made out of beskar. I'm sure you could afford a set made from songsteel." She took a sip from her mug then continued "But I'll be sure to pass along your critique to the Mand'alor so we can adjust our combat strategies to be more effective. Why line us up like tin soldiers when we can be launched like missiles from orbit? Y'know, since we can't move or breathe in it."

She stopped when he turned completely to face her, incredulity all over his face as he repeated her question. For half a moment, Adelle thought there was the smallest chance of getting a serious answer. But no, no he answered as expected. Which wasn't to say it wasn't entertaining.

"Ahh, I see," Adelle said. "Here I thought your favorite hobby was harrassing, I'm sorry, sassing fellow female politicians. My mistake. Truly, I thought your parties were just foreign policy and a way to garner goodwill from the people. Poor Sibylla though. Having to save the Republic every other day of the year must be exhausting."

He then turned the question on her, pace slowing. Adelle matched his speed and looked up thoughtfully at the hanging lanterns and the stars beyond. Scattered light grey clouds scudded across the night sky. She hoped the weather would hold for the meteor shower. The hum of the market settled into a drone.

"Not all," she said simply. "Many Mandalorians I've met would prefer a quieter life. They've just accepted the reality that war is part of this chaotic galaxy. As far as my hobbies go . . . Ballroom dancing has always been my favorite but it's damn hard finding a Mandalorian that can. I do actually enjoy running, so add another tally to the weird things about me list. Recently, I've been enjoying learning how to forge and how to play meshgeroya."

"And for the record," she said as she faced him again, trouble in her smile and eyes, "it's not crashing if I'm invited. I'll stop showing up when you stop inviting Mandalorians and 'citizens of the galaxy.' You also can't invite Corellians either, although that's easier. Just mention it's a dry party."

 

[Ravion Corvalis]

Ravion had to give it to her; Thessaly Veruna walked like a woman designing the world beneath her own feet, and made no apology for it. He had always admired people who treated reality as something malleable, but the way she did it made him pause and reflect more then he thought it would.

He fully noticed her fingers as they found the thread of his coat. He understood it for what it was too. A subtle test of quality. A reminder that she graded everything, him included.

He did not comment. He did not need to. He also took no offence when she chastised him for speaking boldly, disappointment threading through her tone, Ravion answered with only an incline of his head, the smallest fraction towards her..

"Boldness comes from having my pieces in the places I feel most comfortable, my Lady," he said softly.

He allowed her venom; foreplay, not politics, it earned the faintest pull at the corner of his mouth. Not quite a smile, instead it was something quieter. Something that had more danger due to its almost pinpoint restraint.

He waited until a nearby Republic dignitary moved well out of earshot before replying.

"Rest assured, Thessaly… My observations are not compliments. They are simply truths most would lack the spine to say to you aloud."

The moment her gaze traced the line of his jaw, Ravion felt the shift, it was so masterfully subtle, a hint of intention, a fine disarming of the Senator and his usually stoic expression. His own eyes sharpened, taking her in fully for probably the first time in the day, but his composure remained immaculate, Ravion at that very moment felt a spur of emotion that wasn’t entirely unwelcome.

"Getting ahead of ourselves would indeed be premature," he agreed, voice thinning as he gave her a side glance and a smirk, "but not entirely unappealing."

Ravion appreciated the clarity of her acceptance to his offer.

"Your wholehearted acceptance is far more than I expected," he murmured, tone warm but contained. "And far more than I’ll take for granted."

She squeezed his arm. A signal. A command wrapped in gentility. He let his gaze drift toward the artist’s display she indicated, though he suspected she cared for it no more than he did.

"A noble must be seen perusing culture," he said with a quiet, private edge, "regardless of how dull the culture may be."

The piece; an offering of shapes and colours and traditional symbols had gathered quite a following. Ravion had seen it before, his opinion was unchanged. “Sometimes you swing and miss. This piece is…one of those times.” .

Open to his attendance; she offered him Parrlay; Ravion turned slightly toward her, offering the full weight of his attention without the arrogance of presumption.

"That is an honour I do not accept lightly." He smiled that ever charming smile of white teeth."If you wish me there, Thessaly, I will come."

Another heartbeat of silence, it was softer and shaded with something that might have been an invitation or warning depending on how she chose to take it.

"And I assure you… when we discuss matters further, I will speak of movements worthy of your ear."

He let the moment rest between them; crisp as winter air, before turning away from the art and towards the event proper.

"Tell me, my Lady… shall we linger here for appearances, or is there something more interesting you’d prefer to inspect?"

Thessaly Veruna

 

[Solaina Embarri]

Words hissed out under her breath. "Not going to be cheap, or quick." A final grumble to this adjustment to the planning phase of the Outbound Flight program.

It was already a monumental undertaking to arrange and gather the necessary beings required to even conceptualize the idea. Only to then take it a step further and push the idea beyond just fanciful talks in a gilded parlor room between those that held the purse strings.

Trying to figure out the best way to burn credits quickly before the audit season arrived.

A suspicious glance sent at Domin-Senator Praxon about the topic with the idle curiosity if this was altruism or arrogance that drove him to follow through on the project with such fervor. Shaking the thought free as the Sith Princess prodded her about qualifications and knowledge on the topic.

The subtle twitch of her eyes at the perceived challenge the only give away that a flare of aggravation was beginning to mount.

"I have no logged hours of handling Isotope-5." Solaina picked her words carefully. "With the export of Plasma, Naboo has lagged behind in exploring alternative fuel options, and curtailed the need as an expensive drain on resources. At least that is my takeaway from discussion about the topic."

No one needed to know she had kept a system running CyberHutt 977, with an absurd amount of modifications piggy backed to the program just trying to burn through the sample she'd "acquired" prior to graduating. It had taken far too long just to rig up a proper power converter and shielded housing to get the stupid thing started.

Never mind the cooling needed to keep that stupid thing from burning out the processor from never being turned off.

It still struck a nerve that her classmate had snuck that container of fuel into her belongings after finding himself under investigation. No less for attempting to modify his records when he began to ignore his studies and threats of being cut off financially.

Soon enough they found themselves at the designated discussion area. And Solaina did not spare Senator Praxon from the rather astonished disbelief she had at the setup.

The equivalent of a tent.

The situation had to be a gorram joke.

"By the stars." Her voice barely kept to a harsh whisper as she entered and settled into the warmth.

Dominic Praxon | Quinn Varanin

 

[Roman Vossari]

TAGS: Liana Organa | Sibylla Abrantes | Dominique Vexx

​

"Oh yeah, I'm all good. Nice to see you again, Inez," Roman said without missing a beat, completely oblivious to the confusion that rippled through the group at the name. He brushed snow off his sleeve as if that somehow restored his dignity.

Liana's question lit him up. "Swear on my life, it happened," he told her, already winding himself up. "Full swing. Right in the face." He mimed the punch with a dramatic step forward, nearly slipping in the snow. "Gen'dai goes reeling back like she'd tried to knock out a mountain. Funniest thing I've ever seen. Also the stupidest. But I was there. Saw the whole thing."

He broke into a laugh, shaking his head as if reliving the chaos warmed him more than the hot chocolate ever could.

Then his attention landed on the new woman. The lilac glareshades. The posture. The aura of someone who could command a room with a raised brow. The kind of authority that could end a man's day with a single sentence.

Roman's mouth fell open a little. His thoughts completely derailed. She looked like the type of woman who could ruin his life and he'd be fine with it. He straightened instantly, wiping his palm against his jacket before stepping toward her.

"Hi. Hello. I'm Roman Vossari," he said, extending a hand with far more confidence than sense. "I'm a pretty big deal around these parts. Or at least I say that enough people start believing me."

He flashed a grin that was equal parts charm and danger-to-himself. "And you must be Senator Vexx. Pleasure to meet you. Huge pleasure. Like, abnormally huge."

 

[Isla Reingard]

Isla surged after him, every step fueled by fury and righteous indignation. When Abishai whipped around and spat at her, she didn't hesitate to shout right back.

"I didn't steal anything from you! Kyber isn't yours to hoard, it's for Jedi!" Her voice cracked with the force of it. "You know that!"

She was close now. Close enough to see the panic in his eyes, the way his breath came in ragged bursts. The Force curled around her ankles, urging her forward. One more stride and she'd have him by the collar.

Then his hand slammed into her. There was no warning, no chance to brace. One violent shove and the world snapped sideways. Air rushed past her ears. Isla hit something solid a split second before gravity reclaimed her, and pain lit up her ribs as she and whatever she collided with tumbled hard onto the snow-packed ground.

Her shoulder barked agony on impact. Her spine jarred. The cold punched through her coat in a single brutal burst that stole her breath. For two heartbeats she couldn't even inhale, her lungs locked tight, vision swimming with white flecks. A muffled curse slipped through her clenched teeth as the world steadied.

She forced herself to sit up, wincing when a sharp pain shot through her side. Snow clung to her hair, the sting in her ribs pulsing with every breath. Anger burned hotter than the pain. Then she realized who she'd crashed into.

"Elian?" Isla blinked, then scowled down at him, still half sprawled across his coat. "Why the feth are you here?"

He looked dazed, winded, and entirely too familiar for this to be a coincidence. She pushed herself off him with a grunt, grimacing as her muscles protested. The crowd buzzed around them, but the momentum of the chase had evaporated. Abishai was gone. Completely. His presence faded into the market like smoke.

Isla dragged in a painful breath, brushing snow from her face. "Great," she muttered bitterly. "Just great." Her ribs throbbed. Her pride stung. And the thief who started it all had slipped through her fingers once again.

Phillip Slate | Abishai Jade | Elian Abrantes​

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Tags: Adelle Bastiel

Aurelian snorted at her dramatic deconstruction of his beskar complaint, lifting his mug in a mock toast. "Songsteel? Absolutely not. I refuse to be launched from orbit unless it's in something upholstered." Her crack about adjusting Mandalorian combat doctrine earned a soft, resigned groan. "Wonderful. If I'm responsible for a future generation of Mandalorians being fired out of cannons, I'm never telling Sibylla."

Her jab about his favorite hobby drew a long, theatrical sigh. "I do not sass fellow politicians. I provide essential character development. And Sibylla is perfectly capable of saving the Republic every other day. Have you seen her meeting schedule? Terrifying."

They drifted under the lanterns again, snow catching in Aurelian's hair as he listened to her describe her hobbies. The mention of ballroom dancing made him blink, then straighten with a nod that was far too serious for the topic. "Ballroom, I can do," he said, tone clipped with the kind of pride one only had for a skill honed under duress. "Naboo noble education. Endless lessons. Endless tutors. If you ever need a partner, and don't mind someone who occasionally counts under his breath, I can keep up."

Then she dropped a new word entirely. "Mesh… gero... meshgoriya?" he attempted, stopping himself with a defeated sigh. "What in Shiraya's name is a meshwhatever? A game? A weapon? A sport where someone loses a limb every round?"

She turned back to him with that trouble-bright smile, declaring her attendance a product of his open invitations. Aurelian huffed, but it came out warm. "Well, someone has to keep the Mandalorians entertained," he said, shrugging lightly. "And since you apparently don't count as party-crashing, I suppose I can keep inviting you. Not many people appreciate my events... properly, at least. You actually engage, instead of posing for holos and drinking all the expensive liquor."

​

 

[Phillip Slate]

Tags: Isla Reingard Abishai Jade Elian Abrantes

He sat. Waited. Waited some more. Before wondering what had even set him down this pitiful path he was on. Sat amidst the snow, all alone, with someone else's bag in his lap, waiting. Waiting for someone he believed didn't need him. She could solve her problems herself. Isla had told him to get her bag. Not to help. He always did what he was told. Phillip had thought it would help him to stand out. To be a good role model. If anything, now that he thought about it? It made him...replaceable. Anyone could do what they were told.

The cold stung at Phillip's cheeks. At least that's what he thought it was. Why would he think it was a mixture of the cold alongside tears falling down his face? Why would he be crying in the first place? It wasn't as if he had hoped that today would be some great memory that him and Isla could laugh about down the line. It wasn't as if he had made a fool of himself instead. It wasn't as if Isla had gotten her bag stolen, and Phillip had gotten to see a much more aggressive and angry side of Isla he hadn't seen before. No. None of that.

That was when he felt a sharp pain. His hand reaching up towards his side for a moment to see if he was hurt anywhere...but it wasn't him. What could it have been? Before Phillip even figured out what he was doing, the lad was launching up to his feet and rushing off through the snow, huddling onto Isla's bag for dear life. Something felt wrong. Very wrong.

"Isla? Isla?!"

His voice echoed through the air, unable to hide the growing concern. Had he messed up in trusting Isla to be able to deal with it herself? A terrifying thought ran down Phillip's spine as memories came rushing in.

"And if she gets hurt again because someone she trusted thought loyalty was enough?"
A pause.
"I will become something you don't survive."

No. No. Nononononono. He was so stupid. Phillip knew he had to focus. He had to calm himself down. What was the worst that could have happened to her? But the more he tried to come up with an answer to that question, the further down the rabbit hole he fell...Until he found her, and someone else practically in a mess in the snow. He vaguely recognised the guy, he knew he should care about them...but...

"Isla? Are you alright? Kark..."

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti Acier Moonbound Varin Mortifer​

The cold air carried failure well.. too well. Naniti’s voice arrived while he was still processing everything. Of course she would say something like that. Lysander didn’t mind, not even remotely, but the timing was.. merciless. Then another blow. A breath of amusement slipped out, not bothering to turn his head. Doing so might’ve been like offering an easy win. But his shoulders shifted under the memory of Ilum. The image lay nested deep within the teen's chest, entwined with his pulse.

Air left him a low sigh through his nose. “You say that like you were upset I fell. But unless my memory has failed me, you didn’t bother to move out of the way.. not even a little. So, forgive me if I question your distress.”

Acier’s comment did not pass unnoticed. “Well, I’m relieved someone believes in me.. even if you don't mean a word of it." Lysander’s tone dropped, warm with a note of self-mockery. “But I’ll take what I can get.”

Then came three throws from the Togruta. Or, three satisfying thunks. Basically, performing sorcery in front of the civilians. His murmur carried amusement too, a familiar cadence lately. "Someone clearly came here with.. intention."

Breath fogged before him as Ace’s blades bit into the wood. Respectable hits. "If you keep performing like that, the Jedi might try to reclaim you.” One corner of his mouth lifted. “And then where would we be?"

He noticed the brute of their group had already found himself locked in a challenge with a Cathar. If there was chaos to be found, Ignati could spot it kilometers away.. like an old friend. At least, that was how he’d grown to see it since their days back on Korriban.

“Alright,” muttered to no one in particular, “round two.”

Behind him, buried in one of the crowds, a voice said, 'good luck'.. but he chose not to respond.

Seizing another axe, the rotation started normally.. but then, halfway, decided rotations were beneath it. The axe wobbled, veered like a starfighter losing an engine, and committed to some dramatic downward spiral, but not before shattering one of the lantern posts. It jutted from the snow, and he could’ve sworn the damn thing was looking back at him, all judgmental.

Both hands lifted, lacing behind his head while pivoting to face Naniti and Acier with a smile that stretched from ear to ear.. clearly unashamed. If anything, he looked proud of assassinating the ornament.

“I don’t wanna hear chit from either of you.”

Head tilting, the line etched deeper. “Not one word.”

It felt like the right thing to say, if only to brace himself, for the roasting he totally expected to arrive in three.. two.. one..

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

​

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

"The classic orb it is," Myura agreed as her fingers brushing over a row of them as they neared the booth. "And yes.. a few stands. We can set it on a shelf in Phoebe's room after Life Day. Let her fall asleep to that soft glow."

She lifted one of the orbs delicately, marveling at the clarity of the glass. Snowlight caught in the fragile curve, turning it into a tiny moon in her palm, only to smile warmly as the warmth of his lips agianst her temple made her flush in affection.

"A bit of starlight for our Starlight," she repeated, affection bright in her voice. "Year-round. I like that."

Then, because she could never resist a chance to poke the bear a little, her eyes flicked up to him with sly amusement.

"You know," she murmured, taking another sip of her toddy as her gaze traveled over the intricate glasswork, "for a man who obsesses over minerals and rocks, I'm surprised you're not already trying to buy this entire booth."

Her head gave a slight nod towards the handblown glass.

"Superheated sand, mineral inclusions, pigment layers… this is basically ore with an art degree."

Myra's brow gave a playful arch.

"Or is it that you only enjoy the raw, unrefined stuff and leave the processed beauty to me?"

They passed a tall, twisting sculpture that resembled living coral. It was lightning-struck sand fused into delicate branches. Myra paused, breath catching softly.

"Oh… how curious," she murmured, leaning in to read the placard.

"Imagine lightning turning sand into something like this. Nature really does have a flair for drama."

 

[Tansu Treicolt]

Lantern-lit stalls crowded the paths around her, glowing warm against the gentle snowfall, each one brimming with Ukatisian crafts, shimmering ornaments, spiced drinks, and trinkets hauled in from across the Republic. The whole place hummed with song and laughter, and the buzz of the crowd only added to her cheer.

Red wrapped every inch of her, save for the daring strip of thigh between mini-skirt and red embroidered boots — a length of hem that'd stop her Pa's heart. Wampa fur trimmed her hooded robe-coat, every cuff and hem puffed in white, and while the hood was sewn in, she left it down where wampa white got lost in blonde waves, and opted for a lopsided Father Life Day hat instead. There was no mistaking her affinity for Life Day as she drifted through the Ovli Market.

Her glamorous coat hid more pockets than she ought to admit: Every one fitted for a flask. One had already been emptied into the spiced drinks she'd picked up from a vendor, her own mug drained on the walk over, which explained half her bright-eyed sparkle as sh threaded toward the market's raised dais, where the parents-to-be greeted guests and accepted well-wishes for her Name Day and the sweet promise of the child she carried.

Tansu loved the idea of bundling joy with even more joy.

"Alrighty y'all, remember we're here to capituhlize on people's general joy and merriment, meet some folks, feelers for the crusade to come and all that. And congratulate the expectin' parents too of course, can't forget that. Here" —

She pressed the steaming cups into the boys' hands.

"Got these to help make connectin' with others a bit easier for y'all," she chirped, beaming at the dark-haired pair. On first sip, they'd immediately realize just how strong she'd made the otherwise innocent spiced beverages.

A grin overtook her as she leaned into Talsin, nudging him with a warm hip and pointing at Tydeus, or rather, above him, at the ribbon-tied bough dangling conveniently where he stood. She tapped her lips, slow and suggestive.

"Although, Tydeus… you keep standin' there like that, maybe folks'll come to you."

____________________________________________________________
IMMEDIATE: Talsin Lota | Tydeus of Tion
SOON: Kito
____________________________________________________________
​

 

[Tydeus of Tion]

"Although, Tydeus… you keep standin' there like that, maybe folks'll come to you."

Tydeus, lured here under false pretenses of an operation meeting, glared up at the strange flora tied above him.

"What are you talking about?"

He scowled, gray eyes glaring around the room.

Someone had shoved some sort of cinnamon spiced milk drink into his hands. Unfortunately, it did taste good. But it probably had far too many calories. He should throw it away.

"You have sixty seconds before I leave."

Tansu Treicolt

 

[Dominique Vexx]

Yes, Katabasis. The archaeological site. Perfect example of something that would have been better left alone. Not merely because it'd turned out to be a prison for powerful 'entities' -- purportedly -- and not only because of the harm that'd befallen several involved in the botched Jedi expedition, but because of the cultural and religious impacts it had. Oh, they'd done quite well to keep it from blowing up in their faces, but that didn't scrub certain truths from the minds of those that'd been there either near or far.

"A Gen'Dai?" Dominique asked congenially.

Then Roman cheerfully launched into a great spiel about the entire affair. Dominique laughed with delight at the colorful tale. One hand reached out to gently hold or lay upon that of Sibylla's with a peek of a bright golden eye over the rim of her glasses. Efforts designed to forestall immediate and loud protest. "That would be truly marvelous to behold. The Voice of Naboo decking a Gen'Dai." A lighter chuckle followed suit. "All those worried about planetary affairs with the fate of the Republic at hand would feel at ease then to have someone so strong and fearless to lead them. Surely, such a person could manage both lives."

"But I'm afraid you're mistaken, Handsome. Sibylla was with me at the time. I do monopolize as much of her time as I can. There are so many pressing matters to see to managing a Republic as expansive and prosperous as our own." Dominique tilted her head a hair and gave a slight nod. "I do happen to have a capable woman in my service that is a spitting image of her, however. To throw off the Black Sun after... well, I'm sure you know." Nothing like a raid on the Senate Hall to get stuck in everyone's memory. To say nothing of a Chancellor being abducted under their noses.

A brilliant smile met Roman as he stepped forward and offered his hand. Dominique slowly reached out to take his hand in her own. Her's were surprisingly warm, but then that could easily just be the gloves. "Big Deal," she echoed with an inclined of her head and the return of that unreserved smile. "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Mister Vossari. I'd love to hear more about your 'Deal' later, if you'd humor me."

Perhaps her rebellious friend would soon engage the Ambassador in a little conversation to help distract from Gen'Dai-sized matters?

Sibylla Abrantes | Liana Organa | Roman Vossari​

 

[Makai Dashiell]

OVLI MARKET

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

Eyes caught an interesting ornament, one that looked like an ocean wave cresting. With the entire booth done by hand, he was impressed by the craftmanship of each piece. All unique but very similar - no one piece in the collection was the same even if the artist had intended to create the same project to sell multiple.

"I'm enjoying the entire booth and these are something I find fascinating. However, all of them are highly fragile. Not ideal when we're thinking of adding another tiny terror to the family in a couple years. Disaster waiting to happen...unless its kept in our room or high on a shelf in one of our offices."

Another sip of his hot toddy as he took in a pair of stemless wine glasses. Did they really need another pair of wineglasses? A small mental debate raged as he stood in front of them.

"I'll leave the refined beauty to you dear."

A small smile as he looked at the lightning turned into a sculpture. He had heard of this before but never had seen one in person. Driving rods into sandy beaches was the method, or so he had been told. Or it could occur naturally, some planets were just filled with electrical activity. An enterprising seller could risk a trip and then sell them.

"Fulgurite. A massive piece of it too. Nature is the best artist, you're right." The half-Galan paused, looking at the booth again. "Let's compromise. Obviously the ornament for Starlight. Maybe the whisky glass for your Ma in that sunset color, that blue-ish one for my Dad, the wave ornament for my Ma and...I have zero idea what to get for Balun."

His nephew was another little mystery, but Makai was certain he would end up ordering something similar to what he picked up for Phoebe, just avoid a tug of war when the kids were together. Less argument over who could play with what and when was a win for all of them.

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Aurelian Veruna | Open

Adelle laughed as his stumbling over the Mando'a word, as much sheepish as it was at his attempts. She'd gotten used to using Mando'a instead of Galactic Basic or Huttese in every day conversation. This problem wasn't new either: she'd done it while learning both Huttese and Olys Corellisi, mixing up words and languages, and not being able to find the right word in the right language. "Right, no, sorry, mesh'geroya is... osik, the game that-- Whills, why am I blanking on its name, it's so popular. The game with two teams and they kick the ball on a field-- Bolo-ball! Or limmie, whichever one Naboo calls it. It's the Mando'a word for that game. Now a game that could take off limbs? That's cu'bikad. And that's a distinctly Mando game."

When he begrudgingly conceded that she was allowed to continue to show up to his parties, she chuckled but it did ease a niggling concern that had cropped up. However, his comments about people standing around for holos and simply drinking all the expensive booze, that demanded more attention. She cocked her head to the side slightly, forcing Phantom to adjust to the movement, a bemused look on her face. "Wait, there are people that do that? But that defeats the whole purpose of parties. Why go to a party if you're not going to party?"

She took a satisfying drink of the steaming cider. "Don't get me wrong, good booze is part of a good party but . . . fething Hells, that being all you do? It's a good thing you do invite Mandos to your parties then. I haven't met one that wouldn't at least try to engage. And if we're entertained, we're also less likely to get bored and start blowing things up," she said with a wink. "But considering I don't see the Mandalorians getting invitations to fancy balls anytime soon, you're off the hook for dancing. It sounds like they used it to torture you."

"You could always ask Sibylla to help refine your dancing skills, so you wouldn't need to count," she said. Then under her breath, "Bet that'd be a torture you'd like." Adelle raised the wooden mug to her lips again and sipped. Honestly, it was nice to have a familiar face to talk to. She could hardly call the interim Chancellor a friend, that'd be presumptuous. But it was good to be able to talk like this with someone. She still felt like an outsider among her own clan, and not entirely through their own fault. Adelle had kept distance: it was safer for everyone around her that way. She didn't mind the conversations with Aurelian or with Sibylla though. They were protected by their respective positions in the High Republic. Adelle doubted very much she'd need to work to keep a safe distance, given that she was very much not important at all.

"Any big Life Day plans?" she asked. "Aside from hosting excellent parties, of course."

 

[Cassian Abrantes]

OBJ:2
Shade ​

"Well it did matter." Cassian chuckled as he moved over to stand next to Shade with two mugs of hot chocolate in his hand, taking a small sip from his. The other hand held on to Elians mug, as he ran off to chase some thief down.

"I think he's just trying to impress you, or impress someone else." The General smirked as he nudged her arm just lightly, looking over to her. "He's pretty good when it comes to that. Maybe its best that this is put on hold for a later date. Let both of you get some practice in." Cassian gave Shade a knowing smile as he looked over the last of the competitors with the axe and archery event. "

A quiet huff of amusement escaped Cassian as he tracked Elian's retreat, his shoulders easing as the boy disappeared between stalls and spectators. He shifted his weight, nudging his arm lightly against Shade's in an easy, unspoken gesture, his gaze sweeping over the competitors lining up for axes and bows. The general's attention lingered there for a moment, assessing stances, trajectories, the subtle tells of confidence and nerves.

At last, he turned back toward her, the corner of his mouth lifting as he inclined his head toward the lantern-lit thoroughfare beyond the contest grounds. With a small tilt of his mug and a gentle motion of his shoulder, he invited her to move with him, already angling his steps toward the glow of the market and the drifting sounds of music and celebration.

"Shall we walk and take in the sights?

 

[Arhiia Voronwe]

Tags: Aiden Porte
​

Arhiia lifted one hand, palm raised high above her snowy fortress—an unmistakable gesture of command.

"Cease fire!" she called out, voice ringing warm and crisp through the winter air.

The younglings froze mid-throw. A few snowballs dropped harmlessly to the ground. One paused mid-windup and looked mildly betrayed.

Arhiia planted her cane in the snow like a standard and straightened, taking on the authoritative air of a field medic addressing battlefield survivors.

"Terms of surrender," she declared, projecting just enough for both sides to hear. "In light of the overwhelming casualties—" she gestured solemnly toward the very empty spot where her previous hot chocolate had once existed, "—and the compromised morale of the medical division, I propose a mutual halt to hostilities."

A few younglings nodded gravely. One gasped. Another whispered, "Not the hot chocolate…"

Arhiia held up a single finger.

"All troops will immediately withdraw from the field…"

A dramatic pause.

"…to the nearest hot cocoa stand for emergency rations."

Cheers erupted like a thermal detonator.

The younglings from both factions exploded into motion, sprinting full-tilt toward the steaming market stall. Mittens flew. Scarves trailed. One invented a war cry that sounded suspiciously like "Coooooocoa!"

Arhiia watched them go, warmth softening her expression before she turned back toward Aiden.

The space between them grew quiet again.

Snow drifted lazily. Lanternlight flickered off his cloak. And she crossed the last few steps toward him—slow, steady, her cane tapping a rhythm through the hush.

When she stood before him, she lifted her hand, brushing a snowflake from his cheek with a gentleness entirely at odds with the chaos she'd just orchestrated.

Then she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

Warm. Deliberate. Full of meaning.

As she drew back, her eyes shimmered with something deeper than the moment allowed her to say fully.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Not for the fight.
Not for the laughter.
But for all of this.

For the life they were quietly, beautifully building together.

Her smile curved, tender but edged with her familiar spark.

"Now," she said, lifting her cane and nudging his leg with it, "I need hot cocoa. Because the true fallen soldier in this war was the one I was carrying before you ambushed me with a kiss."

She angled her head toward the stand, her cloak brushing lightly against his as she began walking beside him.

"Come on, General," she added softly. "Before the troops drink it all."

 

[Elian Abrantes]

Isla Reingard Phillip Slate
​

Elian groaned softly, blinking up at the gray Naboo sky as the last of the air rushed back into his lungs. Snow melted into the collar of his coat, icy and unpleasant, but it was the look on Isla's face that really snapped him back to awareness.

"Hi," he said easily, then winced at himself and at the very real ache blooming across his chest where he'd plowed into her like a runaway speeder.

He pushed himself up onto one elbow, eyes flicking instinctively over to her. "You all right?" he asked, already knowing the answer and hating that he'd asked anyway.

"Why the feth are you here?"

"Um...who wouldn't be here, it's life day celebrations." Elian laughed at her question and then shook his head. "But if you are asking at this general vicinity." He pointed to the spot where he became one with the snow. "Well, I was trying to catch that thief, Habachi. It was a pretty spectacular dive, if I do say so myself."

Luckily someone had shown up, whom Elian didn't know, and he assisted as Elian did, to help Isla.

"Elian Abrantes." He said easily enough sticking his hand out to introduce himself towards Philip after Isla was up and about. "Nice to meet you!"

The crowd pressed and flowed around them, vendors shouting, laughter and music resuming as if nothing had happened. As if someone hadn't just vanished into it all. Elian glanced down, saw the empty stretch of market where the thief should have been, and his jaw tightened.

"Well chit...."

 

[Kiran Arlos]

Persephone Dashiell
​

Kiran had a feeling she might have been being untruthful, but he didn't want to call her out on it. At least not today, he simply lifted his cup a little in acknowledgment instead, a small, lopsided smile warming the edges of his expression.

"Tag along with me, huh?" he said, amusement soft but unmistakably fond. "Alright. I can handle that."

The idea that she normally led and he followed wasn't wrong. He tended to fall into her orbit without meaning to, comfortable there, steady there. Truth be told it was where he wanted to be. She was for all intents and purposes his greatest and closest friend. Hearing her flip it around nudged something in his chest that he didn't examine too closely.

"Then we'll walk the long way," he decided, voice gentle, "And pick up another hot chocolate on the way. They're bound to have a less chaotic booth somewhere."

Snow drifted across the path ahead of them, he watched it settle in Persephone's hair like pale, glittering threads. Kiran didn't comment on it, just watched a moment, quiet appreciation softening his features before he looked forward again.

"Come on," he said, motioning lightly with his cup, "I'll lead. But only if you promise not to freeze to death out of sheer stubbornness." Kiran gave her a gentle nudge. "Doesn't matter where we watch the show from, as long as we watch it together."

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Tags: Adelle Bastiel

Aurelian laughed when she finally worked her way to the word she wanted, his expression easing into something genuinely amused. "Mesh'geroya. Yes, thats what I said." He nodded once when she explained it. "Bolo-ball. Good. A sport where no one loses an arm. That's comforting. I'll pretend I didn't hear about the other one. Cu'bikad already sounds like a health insurance nightmare."

Her bafflement over partygoers who treated events like photo ops made him huff. "You would not believe how many people come to these things purely to be seen. They stand in a circle with their colleagues, complain about policy, drink everything top-shelf, and leave before any of the actual festivities start. Completely defeats the purpose. A party is meant to loosen people up, get them talking, get them thinking. Goodwill builds policy. Booze builds goodwill. It's simple economics."

Her wink at the "blowing things up" line made him grin. "Yes, I've learned. Mandalorians must be entertained at all times. Otherwise, stalls start mysteriously catching fire."

When she teased him about dancing tutors, he rolled his eyes skyward. "I survived the Naboo court. I can survive a ballroom. And for the record, Sibylla refines many of my skills. She's very efficient, very thorough... I'm sure she'd be delighted to help me stop counting under my breath." He took a sip, deadpan.

Snow drifted thicker as they cut between stalls, lanternlight casting soft gold across the street. Her question about Life Day came lightly, but it tugged something more honest from him.

"Life Day plans." He exhaled, slow and pleased. "Yes. Actually. Once this wraps, I have a date." There was no swagger in it, just quiet anticipation. "I'm eager for it to be over. Not because I'm bored, before you say it. You've been excellent company. But I've been working on a Life Day surprise for weeks and I'm ready for the reveal."

He tapped the rim of his mug against hers as they walked. "What about you? Do you have people to celebrate with?" He softened the question with a small smile.

Phantom shifted on her shoulder, and Aurelian flicked his eyes toward the creature, then back to Adelle.

"Tell me you've got somewhere warm lined up at least."

​

 

[Persephone Dashiell]

Persephone nodded slowly. The long way around? Where were they going that it required the 'long way' around? She had been on planet before but only once or twice, not enough to be entirely familiar with the setup of the market or the village they were in. As for hot chocolate, there was bound to be someone else capitalizing on the crowds besides one person. Maybe that other booth had doughnuts too. Might as well enjoy her teenage metabolism.

"Freeze to death? I'm wearing thermal underwear. Hopefully that doesn't occur."

The 'long way' looked to be on the fringes of the market, enough where they could still keep an eye out for their next hot beverage. While the distance may have been greater, the crowds were less and they were moving a bit faster considering no one was stopping to look at any wares. Many didn't seem to be sticking around for the meteor shower. Perhaps the weather was keeping them away.

"Do you know anything about this astronomical event?"

Kiran Arlos​