Faction Dawn of a New Era || Open to CIS and her Allies

[Draelos]

​

Draelos nodded. "Well met, Diocletian. I would hope you've seen plenty of my kind on your travels. Otherwise it would sound like you haven't been many places. We do grow like weeds..." He wasn't surprised to hear the man introduce himself as a hunter. The Confederacy had been more positive towards them of late. Draelos was a Vylmiran. Vylmirans always solve things in-house. But, whatever got the job done, he supposed.

"Figured you would say that. How is that business these days? Must be kind of tough with the contract the Confederacy holds with the Enclave, no?" Draelos took a sip of his drink again. As his glass lowered, he furrowed his brow in question. There was a chance, after all, that this man was PART of the Enclave. "Or are you one of them? I can't keep track. Third party matters don't typically fall in my wheelhouse..."

Diocletian Kahmen’’a

 

[Diocletian Kahmen’’a]

​

Tag: Draelos

Diocletian had to quietly chuckle at that, that was a very apt analogy regarding Humans. There was a small pause as he ordered another cocktail this time with some alcohol in it. A mini umbrella with the CIS emblem on it, that's certainly going into his collection. Oh yeah, he still had company.

<"Business has slowed down considerably as of late, no one seems to employ Bounty Hunters as much now. I think it's to do with The Bryn and Omni."> He shrugs slightly before considering Draelos's next question about an Enclave. He wasn't part of that particular group to be fair. <"No I'm not part of an Enclave.">

As the CIS was so vast and held large territories, it is hard to keep track of anything. There is still so much Diocletian hasn't seen or heard about, the Enclave included. He will however look into it at a later date. Tonight is a night where people relax and just enjoy themselves.

<"Keeping a written record of what is what often helps with tracking things and/or people, stops the hassle of getting lost.">

 

[Khora]

//: Kyyrk //: Jhira Mereel //:

What was the point of the party? Khora wondered quietly as she watched people converse amongst themselves. Should she have walked up to someone and talked to them? Why wasn’t anyone coming up and talking to her? Her lips thinned, then frowned. So many questions circulated in her mind, making her emotions cause her pain. Khora looked down at her pale hands, turning them over and under. Maybe she should have stayed home.

The feeling of being watched grew more apparent. She felt it crawling up her spine, and it made her look up in the direction. Bright eyes narrowed as she made eye contact with the man on the balcony staring at her. She raised an eyebrow, wondering why he was staring. Khora returned the stare for a few moments and then looked over her shoulder. He might have been staring at someone behind her. Looking over, Khora gazed about, seeing no one in particular.

Frowning, Khora turned back around to give the man a dirty look for staring at her, but he turned away. She watched him. Did she know who he was? He was familiar, senses flared, and she stood from her stool and began looking for a way to get to the balcony.

“How dare he just stares, without any inclination of a hello,” Khora mumbled under her breath as she left the stool in the middle of the aisleway. ​

 

[Kyyrk]

Wearing​

Kyyrk snorted in amusement. "Of course not. There hasn't been a need to publish our findings. I'm the only member of that species. Or, I was." Kyyrk turned to look back at the green eyed woman below them. She had, however, left her perch. Kyyrk turned from the balcony, an air of...purpose? Or perhaps duty, fell about him. He moved towards the stairwell and descended quickly, walking with a purpose. He didn't know if Jhira had chosen to follow him, nor did he care.

As he walked, Kyyrk pulled out his communicator and sent a quick message. He was sure with all the insanity that tonight held, Srina wouldn't see it until the morning. But as long as she knew. That was the important part. The message was simple. There is a second Mirith. Kyyrk looked up from his device and paused, realizing he was mere feet from the green-eyed woman. It was readily apparent from this distance that while she bore some resemblance, she also bore striking differences. Namely the third eye in her forehead.

Kyyrk's gaze wandered around the woman, her garb, everything. But it was not a fascination like one who was lovestruck, but a studious eye. One who wanted to know every detail about the person. She was, after all, the second confirmed instance of his newfound species. Kyyrk noted that her eyes also glowed, same as his. Perhaps a constant feature among this new amalgamation of DNA of a species? She did lack the strange spurs that lined Kyyrk's jaw, or any other scaling or ridging of any kind. His eyes wandered the various places that such features would appear. The bridge of her nose, her forehead, cheek bones, the like. Upon closer inspection, however, Kyyrk had realized that his previous assumption that she was not much to look at had been horrendously wrong. She was actually--Focus. Kyyrk blinked, reigning his attention back in.

His head dipped in greeting to the woman. "Greetings, my lady. I apologize for staring, I was quite taken by your eyes. Not often one sees a species with such a glow or arrangement."

Jhira Mereel || Khora

 

[Jhira Mereel]

POLITICAL REGION: CIS SPACE
LOCATION: The Finest Resort in Thyferrans, the Ballroom
Objectives: Save the Nexu. Don’t die. Dance with Shuklaar Kyrdol, get secret of his shoes. Dodge High Marshall Ordo’s wrath.
TAGS: [ Kyyrk Verros ] [ Khora ]

Spoiler

/ida.phinneas.net/Chaos/JhiraCISball.PNG

Once more Jhira’s rippling laughter escaped. Her amusement at Kyyrk being the only one of a species was largely rooted in how very, very unique he already was. Of course he would be, if anyone would. But even as his, Or I was, echoed around her, he glanced below and stiffened. His prey had fled; stool abandoned, square in the middle of the walk way, sending odd eddies of people swirling around it. Most of the nobles managed to pretend it was not there with sufficient conviction that she wondered if they, too, were blind.

As with any hunter who had sighted their prey, Kyrrk gave chase with single-minded purpose, distracting her from her calculations of just how much chaos that single stool might cause. Jhira (and apropos, the floating table) prowled after the hunter. Oddly, he sent a message of some sort mid-chase. Jhira swept the area, in case the lady had escaped in truth. Instead, the faintly glowing lady was headed towards them, perhaps equally drawn by the instinctual pull that so infused the Eldritch, ancient Knight.

Jhira’s pace slowed, only a faint smile accompanying Kyyrk’s scientific appraisal of the lady in question. Now, someone looking at your Beskar’gam so, or studiously assessing the risk you presented, was nearly always a compliment to be savored. But she suspected regarding any work of art so - including a person who had put forth the effort to attend a ball - was not going to be received in quite the same way.

While his quarry wore an elegant gown, she wore it with a casual, almost alien air, as if it were more an afterthought or a loan, than a cherished possession. A cloth, much like a Miraluka’s, wrapped about her eyes. Of course, nothing could conceal the green glow wreathing about her, compliment to Kyyrk’s violet gaze. But why had she not been given eyes, when he had?

That instant when his studious appraisal ended, and a satisfying moment of stunned stillness followed was delightful. Jhira’s smile widened a touch. He greeted her, and Jhira remained discreetly in the back ground, where she might watch the dancing, and the duet before her equally.

 

[Daegon Corvinus]

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WEARING: xxx
TAG: Seraphina Corvinus

Tonight Daegon would adorn the purple color of the Confederacy he now led. The political slight of hand he had played to see himself ascend to the highest office of the nation he had come to love very dear had been well worth it. Winds had been ripe for a change, and the Demon of Thyferra took advantage of it. Not only had been appointed as the acting Vicelord, but he had won the vote of the people. Normally Daegon was a private person who hated the social scene. He attended for the sake of business or what needed to be done. The only advantage he found to such events was the opportunity to showcase the woman who had been his equal in everything since the day they wed.​

​

He took in a deep breath as he walked into the room which had been prepared for Seraphina Corvinus . It was not unlike them to be "fashionably" late for parties these days as Sera still often required the help of others to look the part. Even in her blindness, the Angel of Thyferra still wished to please those she would ultimately see as her guests, even if this was a celebration in their honor. She was no longer the first lady of Theyferra, but the entire Confederacy.​

​

"You are as beautiful as always. We should make our appearance soon, my dove," Daegon's baritone greeted the silence as his hand reached for his bride. "I believe they have prepared a table for us in the ballroom, along with other notables in the Confederacy."​

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This would not be the first time they were the center of a celebration. Deagon still remembered the vow made before their appearance on Olanet when the Siskeen territories finished their reconstruction efforts after the Agent Wars. Derek Dib and Seraphina had both been injured severely during a failed negotiation and an attempt to detail the Agent delegation as terrorists. The Angel was still unable to see from the injuries she sustained. The Demon found it ironic that despite being a bacta mogul, he could not provide enough to repair the damage she had sustained. There were still things bacta could not solve.​

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With his arm extended Daegon asked the only question he could as his eyes turned toward the direction of the corridor.​

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"Are you ready, love?"​

 

[Rann Thress]

O L E A N D E R​

WEARING: A simple suit Coat
TAG: Oleander Webb

“No, no I’m not here with anyone,” he responded, raising a finger to signal the bartender over. He ordered wine and sipped it slowly before returning the glass to the bartop. “How about yourself? Havin’ a fun time or are you working tonight?” He asked. Rann himself was only cautiously keeping an eye out occasionally. He wasn’t too worried about anything happening today, so he allowed himself to relax as much as he could in a crowd.


“I’ll be honest with you. I don’t know how many parties I can take,” Rann said, grabbing his glass and swirling it around, watching the wine inside swish and swoosh. “Although it is a nice change of pace from where we just were. Less severe circumstances indeed.”
​

 

[Oleander Webb]

TAG: Rann Thress

"Fair enough," he slid into the seat beside the other, casting a quick glance toward the other nearby attendees. "Off the clock in name, though in practice, well," he shrugged. "That remains to be seen." If problems came up, or if he caught the current security slacking off, he'd step in, if only to point out the security issue to Gerwald Lechner .

He chuckled, taking the glass left for him in hand and bringing it to his lips. While he got nothing out of drinking, it did well to pretend anyway. "Parties have their place, I s'pose. At the very least, they're the prime hunting ground for high-profile targets." Setting the drink down, his gaze turned toward Rann. "A change from Oblivion, certainly, though I am curious as to what more can be found there."