I Want to Touch You in Your God's Hands When Your Praying Bites the Dust... (Invite)

[Avicus DuSang]

Coruscant
The King's Head Tavern

Things were changing in the Hall of Lords. A new generation of Lords was blooming through the houses. These younger Lords and Ladies made great speeches, inviting great strides of social change throughout politics here on Coruscant. Old allies called out to him, asking him to return to the Hall. These changes needed to be eliminated.

Lord Avicus DuSang du Coruscant, Twenty Third Earl of House DuSang came home. With a few well spoken words, he was able to sway the vote to the favor of his allies. An easy victory. Too easy. He remembered why he often steered clear of the Hall. His fellow nobles were too easily led in the directions he wanted.

It was exceptionally boring.

On Dosuun, however, things were fresh. Exciting. There was so much to do within the First Order. And those things presented a challenge. True, he usually enjoyed a life of leisure, but it felt good to be put to a task. It was thrilling. Breathed fresh life into his tired lungs.

Sitting at a table in the back, he was joined by Lord Tiberius Ledet, an aging noble who Avicus had known since the man's youth. "Can't stand all of these young nobles. They don't know a thing of proper etiquette." The man sneered at a gathering of younger noblemen that gathered off in the distance.

"We were like that not too long ago, Tiberius." he mused, yellow eyes focused on the glass of brandy that was in his hand. Ledet put a box of cigars on the table, opening the lid. Avicus grinned as he pulled one out of the box, bringing it under his nostrils as he took a deep breath. "Hand rolled on Dantooine. You're in a mood to celebrate."

Tiberius chuckled, pulling a cigar out of the box. He bit off the end, striking a match as he lit up the cigar. "You handled things like you always do, Lord DuSang. It's the least I could do." The old man stood up, bowing to the blue haired noble. "Enjoy the rest of your evening, my Lord." Avicus nodded, setting the glass of brandy down as he lit his cigar.

For hundreds of years, the Kings Head was the premier spot for politicians and nobles to congregate. It's design was classic. Wood and felt. The air was thick with history. Behind the bar rested glasses that kings drank out of.

Coruscant held too many ghosts. He wouldn't stay long. More than likely depart in the morning. With Ophelia, Viktor, and Aria gone, Coruscant felt less and less like home every day. But, the Kings Head would always hold a special place in his heart. It was his favorite tavern, and the brandy was always top notch.



[member="Zonia Kalranoos"]

 

[Zonia Kalranoos]

Politics was a man's sport. Not a single woman was to be found on the ground floor of the tavern, if one was not counting ladies who were hired escorts of nobles who mingled in small groups. Men discussed politics, sealed lucrative deals, bragged about their misstresses and drank spirits whilst smoking cigars. Perhaps it was for this very reason that all eyes were raised when a sable-haired woman clad in an elegant dark green dress appared at the door.

Yet it was not her beauty that attracted so much attention, but rather the fact she was followed by two officers in pristine ceremonial uniforms bearing the sigil of the Galactic Alliance. Judging by rank insignia, they were no rookies. Yet, they walked a step behind her. This was, indeed, a statement by itself.

Kalranoos had just finished another round of exhausting negotiations with companies who were kind enough to offer help with restoration of Coruscant after Sith were driven out of the Core. However, their altruism was to be repaid by a series of exclusive contracts that would assure monopoly rights, which would, at least in Zonia's eyes, be regress away from fair competition. With companies having an upper hand, it was difficult to secure a deal which would not harm trade at large.

Zonia's tactic was to wear them out through several rounds of negotiations, but not before she would wear herself out in the process. She had specifically asked the guards to make a detour at King's Head tavern, as the Prakithan needed a drink more than anything. A few whispers were exchanged as some of the occupants recognized her. She was the Alliance's chief economist and their ambassador amongst the stars. A devoted pacifist and skilled negotiator. And a very simple woman, once one got to know her. Not many had the chance, though.

"Your table is ready, your Excellency." the Twi'lek majordomo greeted and lead Zonia into the center of the room, where she would sit at a table which was bathed in yellow-orange hues of a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. From that particular spot, the rest of the tavern seemed to be immersed into the shadow as light cascading from above made a contrast which made it difficult to see past a few meters towards the edges of the roomy hall.

Kalranoos sat down, a bulbous glass filled with finest cognac already waiting for her. Two officers stood behind her, hands clasped behind their backs, feet apart at shoulder's width. They wouldn't leave, not without her explicit consent. Zonia was far from expendable.

[member="Avicus DuSang"]

 

[Avicus DuSang]

"So the infamous Lord DuSang returns to the Hall. You should be proud of yourself." a young noble said, approaching his table. His words dripped with poison. The young man, Lord Fenwick Ultair, sat down across from Avicus, sliding the box of cigars in front of him. Taking one out, he gave it a good sniff before biting the end off and lighting it up. "Why, Lord Ultair. Please, have a seat. Enjoy one of my cigars." Avicus mused, staring off in the distance.

The young noble sneered, puffing at the cigar. "The vote today meant nothing. Give it a few weeks and we'll push the bill again. It'll pass." Avicus finally turned to the young man, yellow eyes resting on him. "I'm afraid it won't, Lord Ultair. Your bill lost with over two thirds majority. You have to wait atleast six months before introducing it again. The groundwork you've been laying for this bill took you years. I undid it with a mere waving of my hand..."

Lord Ultair glared daggers at the Sith Lord, and Avicus only beamed. "I love that look! You have your father's eyes, no doubt. He gave me that same look when I described to him in great detail the things his wife, your mother, did with another wave of my hand. I melted her like wax, you see. She never looked at your father the same after that. He just couldn't compete, it would seem..."

The young noble stood to his feet, knocking his chair back in the motion. In the blink of an eye, Avicus was behind him, catching the chair before it crashed to the floor. Lord Ultair froze, the sudden action of the older noble giving him quite the fright. Avicus leaned forward, resting a hand on the noble's shoulder. "Temper, temper, Lord Ultair. You must remember your place. You are an insect, something I could squash without a second thought. In the future, you would be wise to use your manners. I'd hate for your betrothed to look at you the same way your mother looked at your father before he passed..."

The noble was visibly shaken, releasing his bladder as he cringed his face in disgust and embarrassment. As Avicus replaced the chair, Lord Ultair ran out the door, his friends following close behind. Cracking his neck, Avicus finished his brandy, putting the cigar back in his mouth. Putting the cigar box under his arm, he made his way to the bar to get a refill on his glass. On his way there, yellow eyes fell on [member="Zonia Kalranoos"] as she sat underneath the chandelier.

He barely acknowledged the two Galactic Alliance officers flanking her. He could only focus on the woman. The way the light cascaded her skin. Now, this was the kind of woman that would keep him on Coruscant for a few days. Perhaps. Regardless, he simply had to introduce himself. Strike up a conversation. He had to know her.

The bartender refilled his brandy as the Dark God handed him the box of cigars. "Hold these for me, Francis." The man nodded, taking the box. Avicus straightened up his black suit jacket. Making sure his black slacks and red Oxford were free of debris and wrinkles. A free hand moved through blue hair before pulling the cigar out of his mouth and handing it to Francis as well. Picking up his glass, he meandered over to her table.

"Bonjour, mademoiselle. Forgive my interruption. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Earl Avicus DuSang du Coruscant; Lord of House DuSang." Yellow eyes rested on her form as a slow grin crept over his lips. "I hate to see a beautiful lady such as yourself sitting alone. May I join you?"

 

[Zonia Kalranoos]

As soon as DuSang stepped into the light of the chandelier, two officers leaned forward, aiming to stop before he neared Zonia. A delicate hand was raised to stop them as Kalranoos gazed up from her glass, her dark eyes setting on the man who approached her.

"It's alright." she voiced, dismissing the guards which instantly took a step back, like two tame watch dogs. Her attention turned to the earl, with a faint smile crossing her plump lips. Worn out by an entire day of seemingly endless negotiations, Zonia could use some casual company. She motioned him to sit down beside her, albeit at a decent distance but close enough to strike an intimate conversation without anybody overhearing them.

"Absolutely, Lord DuSang." she retorted warmly - "Please, take a seat."

The fact that she had armed bodyguards adorned with Alliance sigil spoke volumes of her status. Weapons were not allowed in the tavern, but the two men who accompanied her liberated Coruscant. In the eyes of the people, they were heroes. The majordomo thus made an exception to a very well known rule.

"Zonia Kalranoos." she stated briefly, currently unwilling to discern her rank and occupation within the Alliance. Not that it mattered anyway. She was off duty.

"I'm afraid I don't have such an elaborate title to present myself, since I am a mere plebean among the kings here." she said half-timidly, before taking another sip of cognac. Then a simple question, which would probably elicit either a complicated or a dishonest answer.
"Are you here often?"

[member="Avicus DuSang"]

 

[Avicus DuSang]

The two Alliance guard dogs barely registered in his radar. He gave them no mind. He didn't find them interesting. Their very existence was inconsequential. Luckily, for them, [member="Zonia Kalranoos"] dismissed them before they could approach the Dark God. Yellow eyes, however, remained fixated on the woman.

"Merci beaucoup, mademoiselle." he said, taking the seat beside her. He crossed one leg over the other, resting his elbow on the table as he took a small sip of his brandy. "A pleasure, Mademoiselle Kalranoos. But, please. Call me Avicus. Though, to be fair, I love the way my name sounds on your tongue..."

Setting the glass down, his attention turned to her once more. "I assure you. None of these younglings are worth their salt. No kings here." Only a former Emperor. His yellow eyes lightly travelled back to her guard dogs before resting on her once more. "Something tells me you're not as uninteresting as you would claim to be."

The question couldn't help but make him grin. "I try to stop in whenever I'm home on Coruscant. I don't like to stay long. Too many ghosts, I'm afraid. I find my estates on Zeltros to be a much more accommodating residence. Zeltros is the ultimate vacation from politics and the harsh realities of the Galaxy. And you? If I may be so bold, you walked into this tavern like you belonged here.

"I promise you, love, no one feels like they belong the first time..."