Private Artifice

[Thessaly Veruna]

The chair in which she sat was oversized, but its arms — though starting half her width from her resting spot — swooped back in for her arms to rest. It gave the chair an almost vase-like silhouette. Within its circular shape, Thessaly sat aright, posture pristine and gaze aloof.

A young former-handmaiden looked her way, but Thessaly barely acknowledged her. Despite the snub, the girl still smiled. She was ambitious. Good. Ambition was useful when housed in one so inexperienced. Beside the young woman sat her new husband, the former Veruna guard Isembard Roan. He had taken to his new life of luxury quite well. Thessaly saw to it that he was persistently rewarded for his compliance.

Before then, in the arena below, bloodsport played out. Muscular, sweat soaked warriors of various species spilled on another's blood for the pleasure of the onlookers. Eliad was a vile place. But she had come to understand its utility. Barbarians playing aristocrats were just as useful as the opposite, just like her brother.

She was not watching the blood running in the colosseum, instead her eyes were focused on logistical read outs and news reports from Naboo. The attack on Genarius had accomplished its purpose. Port Veruna's primary shipping customers were struggling to acquire necessary tabana gas, delaying each shipment and increasing the eventual price tag. The price of imports on Naboo was going up. The exports on Naboo were filling storehouses, awaiting ships that might be too expense to take the goods to customers.

Oh, Naboo had plenty of food. It was just all their own produce. Changing everyone's preferences and desired cuisine was leaving the citizens of Naboo either disgruntled and fed, or disgruntled, fed and broke. Either way, Aurelian's popularity was taking a hit.

Her attention was drawn subtly by movement to her left.

"My lady. Your guests have arrived," said a gaunt looking Twi'lek man, a servant of some repute.

"Leave us," Thessaly said, with a half-hearted wave of the hand.

The Roans stood. As did the other guests to her pulvinar. Soon, all, including the servants, had left her alone.

A chill ran down her spine. A thrill rose in her core. And she stood, slowly, and turned her head only enough that her eyes could turn look askance at her guests.

"Welcome to Eliad. And congratulations on your success on Genarius. Please. Sit. Drink. If the sport enchants you, by all means, indulge."

Arris Windrun Vestra Tane​

 

[Vestra Tane]

Tag: Arris Windrun | Thessaly Veruna

Vestra hated how naturally this came to her, sometimes.

"Welcome to Eliad. And congratulations on your success on Genarius. Please. Sit. Drink. If the sport enchants you, by all means, indulge.

She wore robes worth more than the shuttle she and Arris had flown in on - all red and gold, loose and flow-y, the custom for her homeworld - and slinked into one of the the oddly-shaped chairs with a predatory ease. It was the only thing she had to keep herself from going insane; the predator's aspect. More social than literal, for the time being. But that could always change, if she grew sufficiently bored.

She took a glass of whatever had been laid out for them - something overpriced and tasteless, she assumed - and raised it in a toast.

"You have our thanks. It was a pleasant and profitable endeavor, and certainly the first of many."

She wondered if Arris could sense her irritation.

She wondered if Arris enjoyed it, too.

Now she lounged, and sipped.

​

 

[Arris Windrun]

Tags: Thessaly Veruna | Vestra Tane

Arris arrived with Vestra on Eliad. A world she had never heard of before. Their lengthy travel to the galaxy's edge was one of silence, or at least, Arris was never one to make small talk during space travel.

She broke decorum - betrayed all expectation. For Arris did not wear her usual spacer fit... Her trademark leather jacket and slacks were nowhere to be found. Instead, the blonde's typically unkempt ponytail was let down, revealing thick waves and length that fell well past her shoulders. She wore a suit, nothing fancy, just a grey jacket left open over a white shirt underneath, and matching grey pants tucked over black boots. The long jacket sleeves were let down, and at a glance, her dark cybernetic hands looked like sleek gloves.

The Talusian took the offered seat, but slid her beverage towards Vestra. Instead, she drew a cigarette and lit it.

Her attention was on the viewscreen. Bloodsports. "What - no smashball?" She complained. It was hard to tell if she was being serious.

When she looked at Thessaly, Arris blew a cloud of smoke her way. "Oh come on, you don't want to toast this. I imagine success is a fleeting joy for a woman like you... Don't you want more?"

She inhaled again and leaned forward, letting the fog roll slowly past her lips, speaking without moving her mouth.

"Do you wonder what else you can get away with?"

Arris was fake as shit. Performance for an audience of two, each with different tastes and expectations. She knew Vestra could catch the banthashit act a parsec away, but Thessaly? This was how she met the Dark Horse in the... well, flesh felt a bit inappropriate.

She leaned back, laughed, and took a third drag.