Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Black Collar Gala

Neither came as a surprise – the outcome of that particular introduction, nor the lack of regret [member="Quietus"] wiped off like Aver’d do with blood after a good day’s work.

Red hair spilled over her shoulder as she tilted her head, cast a look back at the dancefloor. Pa was picking himself back up, piece by piece. A sharp smile and a dirty wink – all she had to offer in sympathy. The sable feathers of Qosta remained unruffled as he dusted off his suit, puffing the smoke off his cigarra like one might with a red-hot slugthrower.

“That old fart’d survive a karking DBZ.” Aver chuckled, clinking their glasses together before downing the shot. Whyren's Reserve, because when you had enough money to buy a planet, what was a bottle of Galaxy’s most expensive whiskey?

Blue eyes settled on the blonde, warm – though whether from the drink or the dance, it was for Ygdris to know and for Des to find out.

One hand wrapped around the bottle, the other around Qui’s waist.

Aver had promises to keep.

Come rip fancy frippery with me, her lips split in a smile, mate.
 

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