Public [IGN] Season's Greetings

[Andros Khordel]

12.22.864 ABY

Location: Independent Galactic News Headquarters, Odessen
Tag: Holly Starstorm | Rayhan Mckay | Salacious Rafford | Open to anyone (just no fighting!)

The end of the year was quickly approaching yet again and management at Independent Galactic News desired nothing less than to bring in the new year in style. With the fresh new Headquarters on Odessen, the IGN had spared no expense in throwing together an extravagant festival to be had, but they would stop with just the company. No, that simply would not do. Not if they wanted their name out among the stars as a viable and legitimate source of the Galaxy's latest. Their invitation would extend to the greater reaches of of the galaxy. From the Eternal Empire to the Sith Empire. The New Imperial Order to the Confederacy of Independent Systems. And every blossoming government in between. Darkwire. Silver Jedi Concord. First Order. Galactic Alliance. Mandalorian Union. It didn't matter their stance within the political arena; an invitation had been extended to this joyous occasion. It was here all grievances would be set aside for a night. No violence. Not even a mention of politics. Simply comradery and celebration.

The halls had been decorated to the nines as wreathes and garland spanned this way and that. An open bar even found itself adorned with the most exquisite ornamentation that money could buy. Not to mention the organizers of the event had gone well beyond needs to ensure the widest variety one might imagine. The soft tones of delicate music sang out over the ballroom, lamenting its guests with simply pleasant overtures that caressed the ears and audio receptors.

The doors were open and the receptionists awaited the arrivals of the many guests to attend the event should they have chosen to accept their invitations. Remember, this is a non-violent affair. Please be sure to keep things civil and all weapons are not authorized at this event.

Spoiler: Points of Interest

If you want to show of your latest dance moves or simply take in the sites and sounds of this part of the festivities, look no further than the ballroom to enjoy to your heart's desire.

This suffices as your bring your own if you so desire. Spend time with a friend. Take in the sites and sounds of Odessen. The possibilities are endless.

 

[Salacious Rafford]

​

Salcacious Rafford, or Sal as he's known to his collegues and fans walked into the Ballroom with his trademark smile. He was all charm, all class, his suit primed and hair dressed with all the right products and held back in a ponytail. He seemed to exude confidence and too much credits. IGN paid him well and as the Entertainment Commentator, he charmed his audiences with fun facts and little quips that entertained his viewers from all over the Galaxy.

"Well isn't this a quaint little get-together." he spoke under his breath, his eyes roving around the crowd of those in attendance before he strolled over to the bar and picked himself up a cocktail. He sipped his drink and saluted anyone that caught his gaze, flashing the smile that he was well known for. Oh yes, Sal was waiting for his moment. But first more guests had to arrive. As always he was looking for the opportunities to boost his ratings even more.

Andros Khordel

 

[Enlil]

​

The venue was open to all; and those who got there first garnered the most prominence. That was the rule of appearances. When a person had the chance to leave their mark, the burden fell on others to keep pace or fall behind. The King took hold of a goblet filled with wine as he walked through the door and passed a member of wait staff with drinks at the ready. He sipped it mid-gait and approached the center of the venue where everyone would be dancing. His garb was well kept and caught the lighting, radiant.

Unfortunately, the worst critics in the Galaxy were among the first in the door. That was most assuredly by design. Newscasters kept vigil over the scene, their camera swerving to take any sign of royalty or fame and broadcast it across the waves. Those things enticed the population and kept them entertained in a world where the horrors of war waged rampant.

So, he offered a smile toward one of the camera and lifted his goblet in a half toast.

"I hate the news media," he muttered under his breath. They were a fact of life, regardless of good or evil. Still, he maintained his smile as he turned away and set about mingling with the others gathered.

 

[Loreena Arenais-Valhoun]

Lori knew what she was here for. She needed to represent the Eclipse Rebellion. But she wasn't planning on doing any fighting outside of the sparring of words. She needed to play the crowds and play her part to help boost the Rebellions standing as well as it's coffers.

Wearing an elegant red dress Lori stepped into the ballroom, trying to remain assured that no attack or attempt at her arrest would come. This was neutral territory afterall, and given that it was run by Independant Galactic News, there was going to be no shortage of cameras to record everything.

Lori offered some small smiles and nods to those she lassed by, trying to look poised and graceful. Really she was out of her element, but she needed to look everything opposite of the terrorist that she was being labelled as.

A brow was raised as she spotted Enlil in attendance with a glass of wine. He was the only guest that she knew so far, so she weaved through the crowd of guests and reporters and made her way to him. "Evening. I see that you got the same invite that I did..."

 

[Andros Khordel]

Location: Independent Galactic News Headquarters, Odessen
Wearing: THIS
Tag: Holly Starstorm | Salacious Rafford | Rayhan Mckay | Enlil | Loreena Arenais-Valhoun | Open

Andros had been sure to arrive early; he was always early. Even so, the music had already begun to loft its velvety tones gently into the air. The music was calm and relaxing, a good thing for the man who seemed like a completely different person away from the cameras than he was in front of it. Away from the spotlight and the queues, Andros was content to allow himself to fall to the shadows and be forgotten in squabble for center stage that was an inevitable event to occur. He couldn’t explain it, but his of-duty, informal self, was a complete 180 from his onscreen persona.

That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing though, was it? He did think so, and there wasn’t really anything anyone could do to convince him otherwise. He was who he was, and for now it had proven to be enough to put the food on the table at night and live his life comfortably.

He was dressed in a silver-grey vest, accented in black, with a solid white button-down shirt dawned beneath. A lazily tied black and white striped tie lat pressed between the vest and the shirt. The cuffs of the shirt had been folded back and the sleeves pushed to a point just below the elbow. The slacks he wore matched the silver-grey color of the vest and shoes of polished, black leather enclosed his feet. The slightest signs of his black socks could be seen from time to time depending on his movements or positioning. He was seated in a stool at the bar along the farside of the ballroom area, out and away from the others. He preferred it this way, though he imagined the serenity he felt now would be short-lived. Soon enough the other guests from all over the galaxy would be arriving.

And so he sat alone preparing himself. And silencing his nerves in the process.

His hand rose, the amber liquor in the glass sloshing to and fro as he did so, and downed the liquid within. It burned as the beverage raced down his throat while he brought the glass back down to the bar and beckoned the bartender for another.

He was so preoccupied in his own little world, he didn’t even give notice as the first of the other guests began to make their way into the ballroom. Namely Enlil, Loreena and his very own colleague, Sal.

 

[Holly Starstorm]

Location: Terrace
Attire: This
Tags: Open

Holly was working, which wasn’t a big surprise to anybody who knew the girl. She had no social life to speak of. In college her roommates had always made fun of the fact that she could never find a date to a party and was never seen in the company of anybody. It seemed the girl would rather write stories than make them, or at least that’s what she told herself. She was not lonely. She was dedicated to her job. Yes. That’s it.

She had a glass of Champaign in her hand but it was forgotten as she typed furiously on her data pad. She wasn’t paying attention to the glass at all as it tipped and started to spill, leaking the expensive fluid.

 

[Lark]

​

Though the Independent Galactic News had extended an invitation to The Sith Empire, it was a summons that was likely made in vain. The Sith were very peculiar when it came to accepting formal requests, an aspect of the Empire that Lark had always sought to correct. He liked the extravagant balls, mingling with members of various galactic organizations, and all the exciting politicking that accompanied such radiance. Perhaps it was because he had never experienced such glamor as a child. Or maybe it was because such a celebration allowed him to study people from corners of the galaxy he would never have the opportunity to meet otherwise.

Alas, that was all frivolous talk. He did not arrive as an envoy of the Sith. Nor was he there to examine this newly born Galactic News network. Indeed, there was only one man Lark sought.

His disguise was immaculate, only his quarry would see through it. Gold and white robes shimmered like crystals in the angelic lights of the ballroom, long red hair draped down his shoulder like a quilted scarf. Though he longed to join the lovely patrons who danced without a care in the world, he was not among their number. No, he was the one creating the tune in which they waltzed to. His pale fingers gracefully pranced around the black and white piano keys, forming a song of happiness and laughter. For the moment, he was one with the melody. His existence was dedicated to providing a beautiful rhythm for the guests to dance with, and beautiful his ballad was. It was as though he channeled a chorus of the heavens, an avatar for the most harmonious hymns the human mind could comprehend.

His song told a story, though it wasn't one that anyone present would understand. They could recognize its blooming allure, but not its true meaning. That was all the better. Sometimes the truest of beauty came from a lack of understanding.

Slowly, the resonance of the piano faded. A few patrons clapped, though most only continued dancing as the violins took their proper place among the ballroom floor. Lark stood, and turned to face the entrance, though he didn't walk that way. He had sensed Enlil enter the gathering, and it didn't take him long to spot the King awkwardly mingling with media outlets. It was almost refreshing the see the man in such an unfamiliar position, after the display he had put on in the caverns underneath Dantooine.

Lark walked away from the stage where the musicians played, hoping to catch Enlil's eyes. He would regard the man with a warm, kindly smile. Though they had bitterly fought not that long ago, Lark was here with no malevolent intentions. He carried no weapons, and harbored no ill-will. No, the only thing he carried was a glass of violet wine, recently acquired from a passing servant's tray.

He swirled the glass and took a sip, letting the elegant dry wine refresh his veins. It was a delicious flavor, one that he had not tasted before. Lark took a seat, sitting at a table covered in silky white cloth. He set his glass down in front of him, and once more turned his gaze towards the radiant King. It was a genuine, cordial invitation.

Lark wondered whether or not it would be enough to grant audience with a King forgotten by time.

 

[Enlil]

Publicity was a difficult game to play, even when you knew how to work a crowd. In the middle of a ballroom, every player in the game was an opponent, and to be them you had to stay relevant. For Enlil, watching others and monitoring their patterns was only part of the battle. To overcome the social butterflies, he had to be the biggest predator in the room.

So, he caught the attention of the ladies first. The prettier dressed ones gained the biggest attention from the media. They moved over flashy dresses and pretty faces long before they deferred toward the most handsome man. Unless you were a well known man, you got five seconds of fame and nothing more.

Enlil stepped toward Loreena Arenais-Valhoun with a bright smile. "Lady Arenais, it is good to see you well," he greeted her. "I have petitioned for an audience on your behalf. Things are progressing admirably."

He wasted little time on pleasantries, instead giving her good news in a manner that would inflame the interest of reporters hungry for a scoop. Fortunately, he gave them little more than the juicy bit that he was somehow involved with the woman. How? It would remain a mystery.

"I do hope the party is enjoyable for you," he told her with a slight bow. "But I don't want to monopolize your time," he said as he caught sight of a familiar head of crimson hair.

The Sith, Lark.

In a neutral venue, strife was a disaster for PR. He could not simply out the man, nor could he take direct action. Instead, he kept note of the other man as he looked back to the woman.

He had to be certain that the man did not intend chaos.

Lark

 

[Loreena Arenais-Valhoun]

Lori smiled as Enlil greeted her, even moreso with word of his news. It was hoped that all things would go well with their agreement and it seemed as though the King had every intention of seeing that it does. Yet if it doesn't go well, it wasn't as though he had anything to lose. Only she did.

"That's wonderful to hear. I hope it goes well. I've taken some steps to further what we've discussed. It won't be secret for much longer." She kept her answers cryptic. This was a room full of reporters, afterall. Not to mention there were probably spies out there as well. Lori was used to being tracked and followed by associates of the Eternal Empire. This event was sure to be no acception.

She bowed her head to him as he seemed set to go and mingle. Yet her eyes followed his gaze towards Lark for a moment. The red hair reminded her of Subject 73 Red , a once friend that had turned traitor. Hopefully she wouldn't run into him again for a long time.

"Friend of yours? I won't keep you from your mingling. I'm not used to parties like these or dressing up. At least not since I was little and my parents ruled over some systems. I'm sure it'll all come back to me eventually." Lori wasn't old by any means, not yet in her thirties. However if felt like a lifetime ago when Kay and Veiere headed the Commenor Systems Alliance. So much as changed in the Galaxy in such short a time. It was almost like living in an alternate universe.

At times it felt that way too.

 

[Lark]

Lark couldn't help but chuckle to himself as Enlil regarded him. The King understandably regarded him with some suspicion, considering how their previous encounter had gone. The two had clashed blades within the crystalline depths underneath Dantooine, with absolute destruction following their attacks. What was once a beautiful palette of turquoise and azure colors was reduced to a barren, desolate cavern. Whatever magic once resided there was erased, consumed by the intense miasmas of darkness and primordial fires that danced across the stalagmites like a rapturous ballet. Lark still had a scar right above his hip from the man's strange blade, though he'd certainly take that over being cleaved in two.

Despite the fact that they had tried to kill each other not too long ago, the young acolyte had never been one to hold a grudge. Lark was an anomaly amongst the Sith in that way. He genuinely enjoyed meeting and engaging with people, even if those he laughed and drank with would be his enemies under most circumstances. He wanted to understand them. To know their dreams and fears. To learn what they hated and what they loved. What they would die and kill for. What made them.

Perhaps that was because he was curious what made him. He had goals, that was certain. But since the various personas that whirled around his mind in a never-ending tempest finally merged together, he wondered if he'd ever feel those things. I have no dreams or fears. I hate and love nothing. I certainly don't plan on dying, but I don't fear it as so many others do.

Most importantly, I wondered why I lie to myself about these things.

He softly rocked his head to the tune of the violins, basking in the peaceful melodies. It was then that Lark finally acknowledged one truth about himself. He adored music. Especially soft, soothing music like this. The atmosphere was wonderful, the only thing that might make it even better was good company.

Swirling his glass of violet wine in his hand, Lark took a gentle sip. It was dry and heavy on the tongue, with tastes of blackberry, cherry, and notes of caramelized oak. A delightful blend. He raised his glass towards Enlil and the woman standing beside him with a kind smile and with joy in his heart. There were plenty of seats around the table.

Loreena Arenais-Valhoun

 

[Enlil]

"Something to that effect," he replied to Loreena as Lark approached. "More of an acquaintance, but one of some import."

Her own importance was significant enough that he did not want to offend the woman. The King flashed her a kind smile in response to her suggestion, though it seemed that it would not be necessary as the musician joined them of his own volition. A most dangerous game, perhaps, but a welcome one. He would not need to split his attentions between them. "Garcon," he gestured toward the wait staff who approached. "What vintages do you have available tonight?"

"Well, my lord, the House wines are a Shiraz and a Chardonnay, but if you are looking for top shelf, I can recommend the Port or the Vino Verde. The former comes from the vineyards of Naboo, and the latter is a delightful Alderaanian varietal." He produced a datapad for Enlil to examine. "Something deep flavored and bodied, or something lighter with some effervescence. It really depends-"

"White wine," he made a face. "No, the Port will do just fine, thank you." He told the man as he produced a credit chit and pressed it firmly to the waiter's palm. "Would you like a drink?" he asked of Loreena before the man could leave. The waiter turned to her expectantly.

The King turned to regard Lark at last. "I see that you have a drink already," he gestured, "but I still extend the same offer, if you are almost finished."

Loreena Arenais-Valhoun Lark

 

[Loreena Arenais-Valhoun]

It seemed that Lori wasn't going to be left to her own devices. Whether or not that was a good thing, she wasn't sure. There was always the chance that she could speak out of turn or put her foot in her mouth. But then again things could go smoothly.

One thing was for certain; this was a far cry from travelling the Galaxy on her ship with her tiny crew.

"I'll have the Port too, please. That sounds lovely." In truth Lori didn't have quite the trained palette in wines, so she usually took whatever was offered and hoped for the best. Both Enlil and Lark seemed to have much more experience in wines than she had. So it'd be safe to assume that she could trust their judgement.

Lori sat herself down at Lark's table as he seemed to have invited them both. "Good evening. I'm Loreena. And you are....?" By the Force she hoped that she was acting proper enough. And it was a good thing that her brother wasn't here. She didn't need him to see if she ended up making a fool of herself.

 

[Lark]

The violinists finished their delightful medley, taking a bow as the audience applauded. Lark offered his own soft claps as a handful of new musicians took the stage, most of them holding brass instruments. Another pianist took the seat Lark had held a few songs ago, the woman was likely more familiar with the style of music that was about to be played. An idle, yet somehow lively tune came from the trumpets, bouncing off the rhythm of the piano in a soulful aria. It was a larger group than Lark had expected to play, others held bells and chimes and harmonicas, all manner of folksy instruments. The woman singing had the voice of an angel, patrons of the ball had adopted a content, easeful sway to their step.

Lark stood as Enlil and Loreena approached, and he offered the both of them a deep bow, one arm across his chest, the other held out to his side. "Loreena, it's a pleasure," Lark began with a kindly voice. "My name is Lark. It's a wonderful evening indeed, one made all the better with good company!"

"My thanks," he continued, as Enlil offered another glass of wine. Lark quickly finished what was left in his cup, letting the drink warm his veins and comfort his restless soul. He couldn't quite tell how wary the King was of him, though it was wise to always have a degree of caution around Lark. But he truly had come here for one reason. To share a drink in an impassioned environment with decent cortege of people. "I'll try the Shiraz this time," he said to the bartender. Though he'd never turn down a glass of white, red had always been his color of choice.

"I'm glad to see us both in one piece, without any viscera trailing out of our chests," Lark whispered to Enlil, as the man behind the bar prepared their drinks. His voice was barely audible over the hum of the music. "For what my word is worth to you, I can promise that I'm not here with any... unrighteous motivations. This," he said, as the bartender handed him his glass of wine. "Is exactly what I came here for. I'd truly love nothing more than to enjoy the music and a few good drinks."

He turned back towards the table with a hearty smile, returning to his seat across from Loreena. "Well then, friends! To what shall we toast to tonight?"

Enlil Loreena Arenais-Valhoun

 

[Enlil]

He took his drink in hand and savored the nose feel of it first. Before anything else, he let the aroma slip under his consciousness and steady his thoughts. This was a night for merriment, not making war. There would be time for contention later. He had to trust that the sanctity of neutral ground would stay Lark's hand.

As the two made their introductions- Lark himself, rather than Enlil on his behalf because they were not close- he stood by and sampled the flavor of the port. Immensely dry, but full of body and complex. It had a meaty, savory quality that denoted advanced age- a rarity among the style of wine.

It was a small wonder that they were able to procure that vintage for this event.

Then, Lark whispered to him. The King kept his eyes forward as the man spoke, aware that anything a Sith could say might be a lie. A promise of peace meant nothing from a man who denounced the very word as false. Still- he was not a fool. The young man proved as much at Dantooine.

He rested easy knowing that negative attention on the Sith here would ultimately hurt the Sith Imperial faction. "Then we agree," he spoke up, intent on keeping no secrets. "This is a place for indulgence."

The King turned his attention to Loreena once more, smiling more brightly now that he knew no blades would find their way into his back. At least not in the open. "Shall we drink to justice?" he inquired. "To peace restored?"

Lark | Loreena Arenais-Valhoun​

 

[Loreena Arenais-Valhoun]

Lori noticed the whispered comments held between Lark and Enlil , however she wasn't at all sure of what was spoken. Regardless she knew that it regarded something between the two of them for there were no glances her way, as though they were commenting on how she looked, nor how out of place she probably seemed.

Instead the two seemed to welcome her company, as well as their own.

She tilted her head to the side a little as she pondered on what it was that she could toast to. Lori hadn't ever actually toasted to anything before, but she had seen it done. Even when she had her first sip of alcohol, her older cousin that had given it to her toasted the dead before he had his sip. So perhaps that was what she should do.

"To freedom and to the fallen that fought to maintain it." Those like her late father Veiere Arenais, her late mother Kay Arenais, and her cousins. She hadn't seen either of them in a long time before their deaths and part of the reason that she focused so much on the Eclipse Rebellion was in order to hide from her guilt and grief.

Lori sipped her wine and cradled her glass in her hand. "If only most of the Galaxy could enjoy this kind of peace." If only she could enjoy it more. However she was certain that the Rebels would be fighting for quite some time. How long before she couldn't fight anymore? Before she lost the drive? Hopefully there'd be no need to even worry about that. Hopefully her goals would be met long before she would even consider retirement.

 

[Lark]

Lark eased into his seat as it became apparent that there would be no blood shed, that he and Enlil would not be at each other's throats. He truly had come here to fraternize, to share drinks with interesting bedfellows. Perhaps share a song or dance or two, if anyone was willing. Yes, he did lay claim to the title of Sith. And yes, the next time they met he and the lost King would more than likely me locked in combat once again. But more than anything, Lark loved people. He wanted to share these drinks, these toasts, these songs. One day, all of their tales would come to an end. But there was a certain beauty, knowing that their stories had crossed paths at some point. And even though their goals differed, and the trails they walked would not always align, it was nice to be able to share a drink with such delightful company.

"To peace, to freedom, and to family." Lark echoed his companions sentiments, and added in his own. A trio of ideals, similar in so many ways save for the manner in which the individual sought them. After clinking glasses, he indulged in his wine for three long gulps, one for each of the dreams they all sought. It had a smoky, peppery taste, with the herbal aroma one typically expected from the place it originated from. Though admittedly, after the second or third gulp, his senses were a tad bit overwhelmed. Lark cared less for the taste and more for the effect the drink produced. With an amiable laugh he set his glass down, now half-drained. He'd need another one soon, at this pace. All the better, for he hoped to enjoy this night for all it was worth. And both Loreena Arenais-Valhoun and Enlil were wonderful comrades to party the night away with.

"Do you think its possible? For the whole galaxy to achieve peace?" He asked the both of them earnestly, in response to their desire for galactic unity. Enlil had damn toasted to the ideal, and Loreena had expressed a desire for the whole galaxy to share in the joyous sentiment they shared tonight. He wasn't there to tell them otherwise. He truly wanted to know if they believed it were within reach. He met both of their eyes, seeking civil dialogue on the matter. "I've only felt that sensation once, back when I was but a child. I've always feared that once one moves on from that point of their lives, true peace becomes near impossible to obtain. How could it come back, when one becomes aware of the true nature of things? I'll admit to being a bit jaded, in that regard. But I'll also admit to knowing that peace is something that can be felt. But even then, it was a fleeting feeling. For everyone in the galaxy to feel the same thing permanently? A lofty toast indeed."

Lark wanted it to be possible, he truly did. But he could not believe it would ever be so. Peace for all was unattainable. So, he would seek out peace for those he truly cared for. Everyone else would have to resign themselves to whatever fate was given to them.

He would listen to what his companions said regardless. He doubted they could change his mind.

But he would listen.