Ayumi Pallopides
Heir to the Emperor, Former Senator of Denon
The first rays of the artificial dawn were not merely light; they were liquid gold, pouring through the panoramic view of Ayumi's office penthouse. They caught the faint, lingering swirl of exotic perfume and sea mist on the air, setting the dust motes dancing like scattered diamond dust. Ayumi was a statue coming to life in the gilded silence. She stood between the sprawling view of her waking city and the rumpled luxury of the large low sofa where her two companions for the night still lay in a beautiful tangle of sleep-warm limbs and spilled silk. One was Lina, the Corellian architect aiding in the redesign of the districts was a study in sculpted elegance. The sheet was a mere suggestion draped over her form, revealing the long, powerful line of a leg that ended in a graceful foot.
Her skin was the color of rich mahogany, smooth and flawless, stretched taut over the defined muscle of her abdomen and the elegant curve of her hip. One arm was thrown above her head, showcasing the delicate structure of her collarbone and the firm perfectly pert swell. Her face, sharp and intelligent even in sleep, was framed by a cloud of tight, dark curls that cascaded over the cushions like a crown. A serene, satisfied smile played on her full lips. Curled against her, one arm thrown possessively over Lina's waist, was Kaelen, the musician. Where Lina was cool, sculpted mahogany, Kaelen was all warm, fiery alabaster. Her skin was a canvas of faint freckles dusted across her shoulders and the delicate line of her spine, glowing in the morning light. A shock of hair, the vibrant crimson of a dying star, was fanned across the pillow, a stark and beautiful contrast to the dark sheets.
Her body was softer, with the lush curves of a muse, her waist dipping in before flaring out to a generous hip. Her fingers, tipped in chipped black polish, rested lightly on the dark skin of Elara's stomach, a point of intimate connection. Ayumi's back was to them, a canvas presented for their waking eyes. The sheer amethyst silk of her robe was a phantom, a whisper of fabric that clung to the sweat-damped skin of her shoulders before falling open, completely failing to conceal the powerful, graceful shape of her back. The morning light gilded the smooth, sun-kissed bronze of her skin, tracing the delicate ridges of her spine down to the waistband of her low-slung trousers. And there, emblazoned across the small of her back, was the centerpiece: the jagged, Brand-like Sith script tattoo.
In the dawn's glow, the crimson and black ink seemed to simmer with a low, internal energy, a forbidden secret etched into her skin. Elara's fingers had traced those thorns hours ago; now, her sleep-heavy eyes opened just enough to watch the play of light over them. Ayumi reached for her tunic a motion of pure unconscious ballet. She stretched, a long, languorous extension that pulled the muscles of her back taut, making the dark script shift and flex. She took her time, her movements a slow display for those present. She pulled the soft gray fabric over her head with a rustle, the hem riding up to reveal the taut plane of her stomach and the sharp cut of her hip bones before she smoothed it down. The soft hiss of the door was the only warning that the morning shift had arrived with the drroids starting.
District-19, the relentless perfume of progress. As the sleek, black ground-speeder navigated the congested artery towards the newer sectors. This wasn't her district, her command center as it were in some cases and where it had all started. "The quarterly fiscal allocation has been approved by the Sector Overseers," Cato's voice was calm and efficient from the speaker. Her assistant was training a new one to replace her still, managing her world from a pristine office high above the grime. "The additional funding for the sub-level atmospheric processors in District-23 is secured." Ayumi looked at her interrface and the information that was coming through. "Good. Forward the confirmation to Project Lead Jhen. And remind her that 'secured' means 'spent wisely'. I want efficiency reports by week's end."
Ayumi's eyes never stopped scanning the displays and monitors. She watched a team of construction droids swarm over a facade, their welders casting brief, blue-white stars into the perpetual twilight of the lower canyons. "Of course," Cato replied. A brief pause, the soft tap of keys audible over the comm. "There is a… logistical anomaly. Your next appointment with the representatives from The Zeltron artists guild has been requested delayed. A private envoy cleared orbital control from their homeworld it appears. Their credentials are… disconcertingly high-level. They apoligize but promised to make it up." Ayumi's brow furrowed. "Where are they now?" She asked it more curious then worried. "Our tracking pinpoints them in the Amidala district, the hospital care units."
A slow smile touched Ayumi's lips. An envoy with high-level clearance, avoiding official channels to go to the hospital? That wasn't a logistical anomaly; it was a test. They weren't here to see the polished presentation; they were here to see what happened with Denon now. "I'll take the chance and freedom to see the progress on the new transit hub concourse. It's a nice day for a walk." Without waiting for a reply, she tapped the driver's tab of her interface. Her personal runabout could get her anywhere and she was able to get to the roof. Entering quickly as it was taking off and passing through the energy dome of upcity.. the blue skies changing to a partially illuminated sky that was being cleaned. She could see plenty arround them while she moved a hand. "Pull over here. I'll continue on foot."
Stepping out of the climate-controlled speeder was like stepping into a different world. The air was thick with the ozone of repulsorlifts, the sizzle of street food vendors and the layered hum of a trillion lives lived in close quarters. The scale of the Ascendancy initiatives, the hovering cities, the massive medical district was a theory up there. Down here, it was the grit under her boots, the determined faces of the citizens, the raw, unfiltered energy of a world rebuilding itself from the ground up. She moved with purpose, a figure of undeniable authority weaving through the crowd. Her path would take her through the bustling market, right towards the new concourse. A chance meeting. An organic introduction. It was always better to meet a new player on the field they had chosen, to see what they were made of before they ever saw the boardroom.
She adjusted the cuff of her suit while she was walking with a smile. It was hard to argue with much of what she did. Denon was changing, they had in some metaphorical ways cracked it open and now they were rebuilding as fissures going down to the surface so construction crews could get in were around. Ayumi looked at more of it being down as the channels and pumps were being set up for the waterwalks and ponds that would be here on the surface as well as in the levels at different points. Allowing the artificial ocean to be expanded into several districts, channeled through and they were going to convert likely three districts into a reservoir for the water. They would need to do several of them across the planet but a production facility for the water, a means to clean it and pumps with filters.
SHe thought about all of this while walking through the city streets with the sounds of shops and stalls offering food.
Her skin was the color of rich mahogany, smooth and flawless, stretched taut over the defined muscle of her abdomen and the elegant curve of her hip. One arm was thrown above her head, showcasing the delicate structure of her collarbone and the firm perfectly pert swell. Her face, sharp and intelligent even in sleep, was framed by a cloud of tight, dark curls that cascaded over the cushions like a crown. A serene, satisfied smile played on her full lips. Curled against her, one arm thrown possessively over Lina's waist, was Kaelen, the musician. Where Lina was cool, sculpted mahogany, Kaelen was all warm, fiery alabaster. Her skin was a canvas of faint freckles dusted across her shoulders and the delicate line of her spine, glowing in the morning light. A shock of hair, the vibrant crimson of a dying star, was fanned across the pillow, a stark and beautiful contrast to the dark sheets.
Her body was softer, with the lush curves of a muse, her waist dipping in before flaring out to a generous hip. Her fingers, tipped in chipped black polish, rested lightly on the dark skin of Elara's stomach, a point of intimate connection. Ayumi's back was to them, a canvas presented for their waking eyes. The sheer amethyst silk of her robe was a phantom, a whisper of fabric that clung to the sweat-damped skin of her shoulders before falling open, completely failing to conceal the powerful, graceful shape of her back. The morning light gilded the smooth, sun-kissed bronze of her skin, tracing the delicate ridges of her spine down to the waistband of her low-slung trousers. And there, emblazoned across the small of her back, was the centerpiece: the jagged, Brand-like Sith script tattoo.
In the dawn's glow, the crimson and black ink seemed to simmer with a low, internal energy, a forbidden secret etched into her skin. Elara's fingers had traced those thorns hours ago; now, her sleep-heavy eyes opened just enough to watch the play of light over them. Ayumi reached for her tunic a motion of pure unconscious ballet. She stretched, a long, languorous extension that pulled the muscles of her back taut, making the dark script shift and flex. She took her time, her movements a slow display for those present. She pulled the soft gray fabric over her head with a rustle, the hem riding up to reveal the taut plane of her stomach and the sharp cut of her hip bones before she smoothed it down. The soft hiss of the door was the only warning that the morning shift had arrived with the drroids starting.
District-19, the relentless perfume of progress. As the sleek, black ground-speeder navigated the congested artery towards the newer sectors. This wasn't her district, her command center as it were in some cases and where it had all started. "The quarterly fiscal allocation has been approved by the Sector Overseers," Cato's voice was calm and efficient from the speaker. Her assistant was training a new one to replace her still, managing her world from a pristine office high above the grime. "The additional funding for the sub-level atmospheric processors in District-23 is secured." Ayumi looked at her interrface and the information that was coming through. "Good. Forward the confirmation to Project Lead Jhen. And remind her that 'secured' means 'spent wisely'. I want efficiency reports by week's end."
Ayumi's eyes never stopped scanning the displays and monitors. She watched a team of construction droids swarm over a facade, their welders casting brief, blue-white stars into the perpetual twilight of the lower canyons. "Of course," Cato replied. A brief pause, the soft tap of keys audible over the comm. "There is a… logistical anomaly. Your next appointment with the representatives from The Zeltron artists guild has been requested delayed. A private envoy cleared orbital control from their homeworld it appears. Their credentials are… disconcertingly high-level. They apoligize but promised to make it up." Ayumi's brow furrowed. "Where are they now?" She asked it more curious then worried. "Our tracking pinpoints them in the Amidala district, the hospital care units."
A slow smile touched Ayumi's lips. An envoy with high-level clearance, avoiding official channels to go to the hospital? That wasn't a logistical anomaly; it was a test. They weren't here to see the polished presentation; they were here to see what happened with Denon now. "I'll take the chance and freedom to see the progress on the new transit hub concourse. It's a nice day for a walk." Without waiting for a reply, she tapped the driver's tab of her interface. Her personal runabout could get her anywhere and she was able to get to the roof. Entering quickly as it was taking off and passing through the energy dome of upcity.. the blue skies changing to a partially illuminated sky that was being cleaned. She could see plenty arround them while she moved a hand. "Pull over here. I'll continue on foot."
Stepping out of the climate-controlled speeder was like stepping into a different world. The air was thick with the ozone of repulsorlifts, the sizzle of street food vendors and the layered hum of a trillion lives lived in close quarters. The scale of the Ascendancy initiatives, the hovering cities, the massive medical district was a theory up there. Down here, it was the grit under her boots, the determined faces of the citizens, the raw, unfiltered energy of a world rebuilding itself from the ground up. She moved with purpose, a figure of undeniable authority weaving through the crowd. Her path would take her through the bustling market, right towards the new concourse. A chance meeting. An organic introduction. It was always better to meet a new player on the field they had chosen, to see what they were made of before they ever saw the boardroom.
She adjusted the cuff of her suit while she was walking with a smile. It was hard to argue with much of what she did. Denon was changing, they had in some metaphorical ways cracked it open and now they were rebuilding as fissures going down to the surface so construction crews could get in were around. Ayumi looked at more of it being down as the channels and pumps were being set up for the waterwalks and ponds that would be here on the surface as well as in the levels at different points. Allowing the artificial ocean to be expanded into several districts, channeled through and they were going to convert likely three districts into a reservoir for the water. They would need to do several of them across the planet but a production facility for the water, a means to clean it and pumps with filters.
SHe thought about all of this while walking through the city streets with the sounds of shops and stalls offering food.
