Intermission | CIS Dominion of Teyr

[Alkor Centaris]

She admitted to feeling set apart from other Knights as Alkor busied himself watching the clouds for a moment. In that, they were similar, and yet, vastly different. In trying to fit in, he never felt more alone. Perhaps the one saving grace for Centaris was duty, the sole constant he had known throughout all his walks of life. "A lie is still a lie," Alkor replied quietly. "At the end of the day, it's hollow and leaves you with nothing." Not everyone placed value the same as Alkor did though, he would readily admit.

He cast a short glance down toward his attire. Did it stand out so much? He supposed in the Confederacy, people were used to a better lifestyle, and that his minimalistic mannerisms did draw attention. "These clothes perform adequately," he protested. "Why fix something that isn't broken?"

When the drinks came, he took his own and looked over the rim in her direction. This woman was sly, for certain, but not malevolent. He found her terms agreeable. "Fine," he accepted, "but don't let yourself get sick. I'm not cleaning it up."

Her question was simple enough, and the answer was just as simple. He didn't know anything else but what he had grown up with, but very few people ended up the way he had. For a moment, he waited.

Then, he drank.

He paused for a moment as the burn washed down to his gullet. It was always a favorite feeling of his, the sweet, sour pain that came before oblivion. "You use your outward demeanor as a shield because you're uncertain of those around you." His gaze locked with hers for a moment, uncertain of how she would respond.

[member="Naedira Darcrath"]

 

[Naedira Darcrath]

​

Location: Sitting at a Table on Lido Deck with [member="Alkor Centaris"]​

Wearing: X x X x X​

​

“A white lie is a lie… But they are human nature. Sometimes…No one needs a particular truth. They can’t accept it. Can’t function. That’s why we endure—And they stay safe at home.”

Naedira could only smile, gently, when Centaris questioned her suggestion to cloth him in something that hadn’t been liberated from the ORC. They were fondly referred to as Trash Panda’s. Alkor Centaris was neither trash nor a panda. It was not a good look. “You’re a Knight. Not a hobo.”, she responded simply, easily, though in truth she had seen some of the Outer Rim Judges dress much better. “You don’t need all the bells and whistles…But you ought to look the part.”

The auburn-haired woman gave Centaris the fish eye when he insulted her ability to hold her liquor. “I stopped tossing my cookies way back in secondary school. You, just try and keep up.”, she responded with a little sassy tilt of her head. Regardless, her question had been asked, and she waited quietly for the answer. He drank and she nodded her head. There was…No sense of victory in this. Personal questions such as these required some modicum of respect. If they’d been playing any other game? Rugby? Sabacc?

She might have taunted him for a solid thirty seconds.

When her partner turned the question back on her, placing her in the hot seat, she frowned a little bit while she thought it over. His eyes met hers and they were forced to drop. Part of her didn’t want him to see her inhibitions, but, that was the price of getting to know each other. Did she? Sometimes. Good enough. The Nabooian woman brought up her crystal tumbler and took a sip. To her palette, it was full-on sweet with remnants of whiskey, and a deeply smoky follow through. It burned pleasantly and made her feel warm the whole way down. Good, good whiskey. “You don’t feel lonely.”

Another soft lob in his direction. There were a million reasons that he should feel the contrary, however, Naedira wasn’t certain he maintained that sort of capacity. Feeling lonely required that the individual acknowledge that they needed anyone in the first place. Not once, since they’d arrived on Geonosis, had Centaris truly pulled from his shell. They were often active together…But that was all it was.

Duty. Not friendship, not attachment.

With a start she realized that he had likely never even been on an actual date.

 

[Luca Donskoi]

[SIZE=11pt]Location:[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] Teyr (Dance Floor)[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=11pt]Attire:[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] Service Dress Uniform[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=11pt]Armament:[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] KS-95 "Ace of Spade" Blaster Pistol (hidden beneath jacket), Lightsaber (hidden beneath jacket)[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=11pt]Tags:[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] [member="Scherezade deWinter"] | Anyone Else[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=11pt]Post: [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]2[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=11pt]By this point, Alden had awkwardly come to a stop in the center of the dance floor. It wasn’t as if he was trying to stir up a scene or anything, he had just wanted to come and formally meet the woman that was among the team that had saved him some time ago. The very woman that had spared the Exarch, [member="Adron Malvern"], the hassles of combing through legions of candidates to simply find one potential replacement. Not that the man would have felt any particular way about. Afterall, he and Alden were very different in their particular outlooks on life and the Force. Perhaps it would have saved the man an incessant headache had he not been found there on Umgul. Even his recent elevation to High Marshall couldn’t spare him the fact that he was indeed replaceable.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]He gave the woman a calming nod as an uncomfortable smile carved its way across his face. His hands and arms relaxed momentarily before he extended one in the offer of a handshake. “I’m sure there are,” he replied, acknowledging her assumption of there likely being a plethora of Confederates here. Many of those around them likely held some form of tie or allegiance to the Confederacy, but it was a big place. Its reach had grown, even in his short time here. Its influence reaching deeper and further away from where it had been birthed from so long ago. With that meant a lot of faces. Both new and old. And it would be impossible to have a familiarity with them all. Hell, it was likely there were more here that knew who he was than he knew simply because of the nature of his position in the CDF and his outwardly appearing closeness to the Exarch. That was indeed likely to draw the notoriety of those around and it meant it was impossible for him to blend in any longer. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Not as he once had so long ago when he was nothing more to the Confederacy than a simple pilot. Before his life had been flipped upside down and a new purpose ushered upon his destined path. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“But it is impossible to really know, is it not?” The question was intended to be more redundant in nature than anything else. Just wanting to get the woman thinking a little bit. A moment would pass before he would shift his weight slightly and speak once again. “Can I buy you a drink,” he said through a serious, yet sincere, expression. “As a thank you for everything you did for me.”[/SIZE]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Location: Dance Floor
Wearing: Dress
Tags: [member="Alden Akaran"] + Feel free to join

It was a good thing that Alden had not mentioned Exarch Malvern at any point. There was no love lost between him and Scherezade, and the mere mention of his name would have caused the woman to wrinkle her face in the maximum of disgust. Besides, had she known she was saving him a headache? Maybe she wouldn't have saved Alden after all. Maybe.

Taking the awkward offer of a handshake, Scherezade noticed the uncomfortable smile on Alden's face, and returned it with one of her own. Was it impossible to know? Scherezade shrugged to that. So far she recognized most of the faces, even if she hadn't actually spoken with many of them. But knowing who was who was part of her new and super-secret job, so she'd spent several nights on her ship, memorizing faces, names, ranks, for all those who had joined while she'd been gone, and a few more that she hadn't known about but had climbed up during her absence as well. She wondered how aware the Confederacy was that with her so called punishment, they had given her the tools to become even more of a potential threat to them. And above all she wondered, though rarely, if they even cared about how lucky they were that she chose not to be, even if they would probably not manage to accurately guess as to the why.

And then came to offer to buy her a drink. Scherezade opened her mouth, but no words came out. There had been one person in her entire history to make such an offer before, and that had ended… Not well. She didn't want to think about it. Didn't want to be reminded about it. She could buy her own damn drinks, and she was just about to say that when Alden explained the reason as to why he was offering it in the first place. He was lucky that he sounded so sincere.

Scherezade smiled and nodded. "Sure," she said, taking a step away from the dancefloor and towards the bar, "I like cream in tall glasses. The full fat kind of cream. With ice cubes." It was always so awkward to tell people that. "No liquor," she added. Though she was most definitely not about to explain why. "What do you drink?"

 

[Luca Donskoi]

[SIZE=11pt]Location: Teyr (Dance Floor)[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=11pt]Attire: Service Dress Uniform[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=11pt]Armament: KS-95 "Ace of Spade" Blaster Pistol (hidden beneath jacket), Lightsaber (hidden beneath jacket)[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=11pt]Tags: [member="Scherezade deWinter"] | Anyone Else[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=11pt]Post: 3[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=11pt]There seemed to be a sort of uneasiness between the two as they carried about their exchange. Alden hadn’t exactly returned to his old self yet - still recuperating from the plethora of injuries he’d befallen weeks before - and it seemed his rescuer, whose name he didn’t actually know, wasn’t exactly the social butterfly herself. Funny had life had a way of bringing people together in the most peculiar of ways. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Around them, it seemed as though the patrons hadn’t even noticed the two of them simply standing in the middle of the dance floor. Just having a simple conversation to this point, no matter how awkward that seemed seemed to be going. Hell, Alden hadn’t even been paying attention to them either as they danced their choreographed movements around them. The music, itself, had seemed to just fall into nothing more than a slight murmur in the background. At least until he was forced back to the here and now when someone collided with him from behind. The impact caused him to stumble forward a step and unfortunately in the path of Scherezade as she started talking about the drink she wanted. He exerted a slight groan and a grimace etched its way over his face. His hand reached to his right side where the three ribs he had fractured before were still recovering. His eyes closed tightly for a moment and his teeth ground together before his attention returned fully to Scherezade as she asked “[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]What do you think…[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“I apologize, but I didn’t catch that.” He was still in obvious discomfort as he spoke, even as his hand was released from his ribs. “Care to tell me again?”[/SIZE]

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Someone had asked him a question not dissimilar to this before, and it gave him pause. It had been [member="Keira Verd"], wondering about why he left without a word. It had been admonishing, about family and about how they were supposed to stick together. The reality was, sometimes, when he was alone, he remembered his mother. She rarely talked, and when she did, it was incoherent at best. Alkor had been his own best company since before he could remember.

Job after job, life upon life that he took the Corellian Exile felt the draw toward other people less and less. He took the drink with the same bland, diminishing returns he always got when it came to hard liquor. The flavor was nice, but the sting slowly faded. The darkness he hoped for would never come.

The hollowness remained.

What he did admire, when it came down to it, was the woman's honesty. Despite their differential points of view on truth and lies in society, she had the integrity to admit something she clearly did not want to part with easily. Broken eye contact was a sure sign that he had struck a nerve.

"You do," he observed. [member="Naedira Darcrath"] was an outgoing woman with energy in droves and the ability to engage with anyone, navigating the toughest of social situations with an ease Alkor could not begin to imagine. "You're lonely," he asserted a second time, somewhat surprised by the thought. Only someone who felt that way might recognize the failure to do so in someone else.

It was that sensation of wanting something you couldn't have. Burning away the need to feel a connection, that was something someone who had lived a halfway normal life could not simply do. It was what set those who lived in the darkness apart from those who simply flirted with it. But did she want to be alone, or was it that she was tired of being alone?

Those were questions of their own, and he had already asked one. His deep, blue gaze moved over her in bewilderment for a moment. A woman with no ailments, no visible flaws in physical attributes, and confidence ought to have no problem with finding company for herself. So why did she choose to remain distant through her words and actions?

Was she afraid of something?

 

[Zane DeZorroe]

Location: Dance Floor​

Wearing: X​

Objective: Own some noobs​

​

Currently, Oz was on somewhat good speaking terms with confederate officials. After all he made a good name for himself as a liberator, and robin hood like figure within the population. Someone who could end a planetary slavery ring by just catching wind of it. This caught the attention of some confederate field agents of a new division. Yet he wasn't given a name a agency would certainly raised an eyebrow. As that either meant they were some hardcore people when it came to not existing in the public eye. Or he was being tricked, and the only reason he played along was because the organization and equipment he could make out was high end and confederate.

Oz had only done a couple of missions as a sort of out sourced agent for them, he wasn't allowed to ask too many questions, and was allowed fewer answers. The only reason he was reached out to was because it was clear that with his Anti-slaver record, he was already working within the interests of the CIS, or at least its unnamed agency. However, the last true contact he had with them was with a messenger of sorts that went by the name "Jem". Who came to him to let him know that they would no longer need his services and won't be getting any payment after Oz "accidentally" uncovered something he shouldn't have with a slave trafficing ring and its connections to The Sith Empire, a group the CIS seems to try and stay on good terms with.

Figuring his days working with the shadowy organization were through he was allowed an invitation to this party from an unknown contact. Maybe as some kind of half ass compensation. Figuring that he shouldn't turn down a potentially good time he went to Teyr.

​

Currently Oz was sitting at the bar minding his own business until some, drunk twi'lek, and rodian hobbled their way over to the Arkanian. "Hey, you're that Oz fella aren't you?" Before he could reply they continued. "I don't like you..." After that the rodian spoke.

"Nu ich abu fabiwa" Oz didn't know what that meant.

"The says he doesn't like you either." The twi'lek spoke for his partner. "Bounty hunters like you are too good at your jobs and take all the credits from guys like us."

"Well what do you want me to say or do about it? Get good?" Oz finally spoke. "Hey, there's a up coming bounty I'm hearing about that's really high reward, low risk. How about we settle this like gentlemen and..." Looking around at where they were he couldn't think of better place to do what he had in mind. "Dance for the honor of pursuing the bounty. Does that sound fair?" Taken back the twi'lek wasn't sure what to say. "Going once, going twice." Oz counted down.

"Okay okay, well the middle of the dance floor seems free now, let's do it there." Nodding, Oz placed his glass down and got up from the bar and the two of them made their way onto the dance floor and starred each other down as the beat continued. Oz would make the first move.

Show time!

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Location: Dance Floor
Wearing: Dress
Tags: [member="Alden Akaran"] + Feel free to join

Scherezade's physical instincts were as honed as the blades she usually carried, and when Alden stumbled, her hands reached out and caught him before he sent them both toppling to the ground. Despite the music, his groan reached her ears. It wasn't a groan that said oopsie, it was a groan that signaled something hurts and she frowned, looking at him to make sure he was stable in his position before she took a step back.

His hand went to his ribs, and she remembered the events of not too long ago. That was odd. Why hadn't he been dunked in a vat of bacta so he could properly heal from it? Surely someone in his position could get that sort of a service from the Confederacy? Scherezade took a mental note to send him an invitation the following day to the Citadel on Geonosis. While she wasn't going to invite him to her personal tank, there was nothing keeping her from inviting a Confederate member to using the one that the Confederacy was supposed to regularly be offering. She often wished someone had told her that in the months she'd been overworking herself to death just to keep her personal levels up.

"Tall glass of full fat cream with ice cubes," she repeated herself, "I don't drink liquor."

Motioning for him to follow her, Scherezade led the two of them to the bar, moving between the dancers with ease, where Alden could put the order in.

"Scherezade deWinter," she said, only now seeming to remember she had never actually given him her name while out on the mission. And inwardly, she hoped that it would not ring any bells regarding other events that had nothing to do with it.

 

[Galaar Fett]

Location: Parier (Sabacc table)
Tags: [member="Haastal Verd"] + anyone else wanting to chat
Wearing: Grey Suit
Post: 1

​

Galaar had never been one for gambling. Most of the money he made in the field either went to directly supporting the clan in some way or to upgrading his arsenal in a way that could help him make a few extra credits. However, after an extremely arduous hunt that had left him bruised and cut after spending weeks hunting in the forests of Boaro, a few drinks to settle his mind before finally heading home to Hoylin was definitely necessary. It just also happened to be where most of the so called confederacy seemed to locate themselves, so he was sure he might be able to catch up with a crusader or two.

It just so happened he was right in his assumption, seeing one of the younger men that had been at the bonfire those few nights ago trying his luck at the sabacc table. With a corellian twirler in hand, the older hunter strode over to where the man was sitting, taking his time to observe and watch the game from afar. It seemed as though he was doing well enough for himself, enough so that Galaar wouldn’t feel bad by interrupting his concentration completely.

The middle aged Mandalorian walked up the table, pulling up a seat so that he was seated to the left of [member="Haastal Verd"], waving off the dealer when he looked toward him in a questioning way. “Just here to chat with a friend of mine. Carry on with you game.” With that out of the way, his focus turned to the man, looking him over for a moment before scanning over his credits, smiling lightly to himself. “Celebrating a job well done, or blowing off some steam, evaar’la beroya?” He awaited the answer, attention turning to the game as his lightly sipped his drink.

​

 

[Daxton Bane]

In one corner of the bar Daxton’s party was raging full swing, humanoids of various species, colors and shapes cavorted in half drunken intoxicated states, their disheveled attires an attestment to how wild the night was getting, clearly in the grip some wild orgy of sound, sensation and pleasure. Drugs, alcohol and a wild assortment of pleasure items were made available to any who wanted them. Yet clear there was one who was not here for the party.

At first glance he seemed like a goliath of human, ebony skin glistening under the pulsing lights, eyes so electric blue they seemed pulse with a current of their own, not one ounce of visible fat nor body hair could be seen. He gave off a not so vague intimidating presence of someone who was used to trouble and relished inflicting pain to those foolish to cross his path. His simple black tunic suit devoid of any symbols or crests, was almost as enigmanic as the man.

As soon as he entered the room, he made a beeline to the table where the Zabrak sat, paying no heed to complaints of those too slow to get out of his path. Any voiced dissent quickly died down once they realized how big and mean he was.

Upon seeing the approaching titan, Daxton smirked but paid him no heed as he drank deep from his glass. Perhaps if he ignored him enough the other man would get bored and go away.

“Daxton, why am not surprised to see you wasting your time with these heathens. Father is very disappointed in you and wishes for you to to return.”

“Ah Rex. Tell me how long did it take for you to come up with that idea? A month, six months? Not so smart are you. Well then a loyal hound need not to have brains, just the desire to obey. I will tell you the same thing I told Father, I am done. I don’t care for his plans or his plots, find some other fool to play your game.”

“Perhaps I am not being clear Bane, this was not a request. Either you come with me or I will make you. Please resist.”

Daxton laughed at the thought, “You and what army Rex? Father disappeared into the Outer Rim ages ago. Probably sick and tired of having to deal with idiots like you but that is a story for another day. If you think you can beat me, then by all means start something.” Daring the man to strike, knowing full well he could easily subdue him if the meat mountain made the wrong move.

“This isn’t over Bane.”

“Yes it Rex. Unless you want to throw down now, get the hell out of sight before I have you thrown out. I won’t be so merciful the next time I see you.”

Outmaneuvered, the titan stood silently, breathing like a bellow, his hands clenching as if considering assaulting the Sith Lord, before he turned around silently and left the bar.

“Good dog Rex. Not so dumb after all.” Daxton muttered under his breath as he poured another stiff drink and downed it in one gulp before turning his attention back to the party, “Whose up for some Sabbac?”

 

[Nya]

Wearing: XXX

The Confederacy certainly were a unique group.

Nya hadn't been around for long, but from what she'd seen between her adventures with Isley and Safira - they were a diverse group. Teyr was no different. The ship itself was massive, and opulent beyond belief when compared to the modest living she'd been enjoying with her two companions. They wanted for nothing, not when they managed to steal, hunt or... 're-purpose' whatever was needed to ensure they were fed, clothed and had a warm roof over their heads... But the trio weren't exactly living it up. When the invite had gone out to prominent members of the CIS to join a celebration aboard The White Dove, it was too good an opportunity to pass up.

The half-Zeltron didn't need much to get her onto the ship, the tight red number she'd selected almost made the need to use her ability to drown people in her pheromones useless... Almost. Perhaps if she hadn't also been intent on bringing [member="Safira Varad"] with her, she could have slid in without much hassle, but she had been unwilling to chance them making her leave the sable vision behind. So when she strode into the Promenade, it was with her arm wrapped securely around the waist of the beaming siren she'd come to think of as her own.

Calm grey-blue eyes scanned the dancing crowd with minimal interest as she spotted a large table near the bar. With a gentle tug at the woman's waist at her side she directed the pair of them towards it, leaning in to brush her lips against Safi's ear as she whispered. "You grab us some seats, see if you can't flag down some other folks and I'll grab us a round, yeah?" With that she carefully disentangled herself from the woman at her side, gave a quick wink and broke towards the bar.

In short order she'd secured a tray of drinks, electing to bring it over herself, beaming from ear to ear as she set the tray of tinkling shot glasses on the table and placing herself into one of the chairs at Safi's side. It seemed as though Safira was brilliant at many things, as the table was quickly filling with an array of other guests, some of them even familiar.

"Well! Shall we get started then?"

[member="Safira Varad"] | [member="Kiera Verd"] | [member="Calixte Diantha"] | [member="Galaar Fett"]​

 

[Calixte Diantha]

Wearing: [xXx]

Tags: [member="Nya"], [member="Safira Varad"], [member="Galaar Fett"]


At times it seemed to pay to be blessed with a body that could stop a speeder in its tracks. It made dressing up not only fun but entertaining, and it helped to get the redheaded vixen into a plethora of places that she probably shouldn’t be tempted by in the first place. But what could she say? Calixte was absolutely enthralled by the glitz, the glam, the scantily clad, and the music that thumped so hard she could feel it in her chest cavity. Perhaps in another life, this had been her very calling, though in the one she lived now Cali would merely enjoy being a visitor to such luxury and excitement.

She had taken the time to find a dress that not only fit her frame securely in all of the right places, but suited her mood as well. Cali was feisty, and she was by no means bashful about it. As could be witnessed visibly by the way she was not only dressed, but carried herself to boot. The redhead already had a natural sway in her step, but there was an extra bit of sashay as she moved about. Taking a break from crusading seemed to agree with her in a plethora of ways.

The redhead had spent some time dancing, had made a round or two about the Promenade, and had even stopped to speak with a couple of random, new faces. This had unfortunately earned her a tail, but the woman was easy enough to shake loose from. Eventually Cali ended up at the bar, for she was in desperate need of a drink. Once she had a drink in hand, she turned herself around so that her back was pressed against the bar top, and she idly sipped the concoction as the woman-tail found her again.

A noise was made in Calixte’s throat when she had spotted familiar faces entering the Promenade however, and she separated herself from the drink she had already had in her hand. The poor sod who had been standing beside her, pouring her heart out to the redhead was not only ignored, but walked away from entirely as Cali moved away from the bar and instead approached the seats where Safira and the others were seated.

“I’m starting to think you’re stalking me.” She let out teasingly to the other curly haired woman. While she had seen Nya before, she didn’t really know the blonde seated with her friend. “If you keep it up, I’m going to have to get some sort of restraining order.”

 

[Safira Haran]

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​

Wearing: xxx​

[member=Nya] | [member=Calixte Diantha] | [member=Keira Verd] | [member=Galaar Fett]​

​

​

​

Perhaps it was because Safira had only ever been to a party that was hosted around an open flame, or perhaps it was because she had never been on a cruise ship before, but the young Mandalorian was in awe. From the rippling streams of purple silk that depicted the Confederate crest, to the vibrant streams of light that graced her skin with dancing multicoloured patterns. Ordinarily, the raven haired woman wasn't the party type. Safira had never been one for dancing, she didn't really get along with the dress that tangled up around her feet each time she took a step and her hearing device hated the thumping rhythm pounded out by the speakers. She wasn't at home in the midst of the noisy and the hot, but she wasn't here for herself. Shimmering onyx pearls travelled the length of the slender blonde beauty that hung from her waist.

Now more than ever, with Nya cutting such a fine figure in her choice of attire, Safira was reminded of how lucky she was to call the woman her own. The small family that she, Isley and Nya had made for themselves was something Safira was reminded to treasure every day. The longer they spent in each others company the more Safira struggled to picture her life any other way. The sable skinned woman allowed herself to drink in the crimson skin-tight dress one more time with a rather smug smile on her face. It felt good knowing the person everyone in the room was looking at was going home with you at the end of the night. The soft whisper of the alabaster woman in her hearing device shook Safira from her day dream.

'Hurry back, Ny'ika. Bring plenty.' Safira grinned and swayed her way through the maze of tables toward the one Nya had pointed out. Normally she wasn't one for drinking the kind of stuff Nya liked to drink, but for tonight Safira was here to make Nya happy. She relished in the way her smile made her pale skin glow, the dimples that formed on her cheeks when she grinned, the sweet way she let her golden hair fall down the side of her face when she was trying (and succeeding) to be cute. Safira lapped it all up. Before she had even reached the table Safira had decided that considering she was already here, she might as well enjoy herself. By the time she had lowered her frame into one of the chairs Nya had joined her at the table with the drinks, and Safira had managed to convince a few of her friends to join them. What Safira hadn't expected was to see the famous redheaded [member=Calixte Diantha].

'Su cuy'gar Calixte!' Safira lifted her weight from the chair underneath her and pushed it to the side to make room for her friend. Without a word she dragged a chair into the now empty space and patted the cushioned seat with the flat of her palm. 'I can promise you it's a compliment. As a hunter I only pick the finest prey.' She replied in response to her quip, a light tone of amusement littering her words. 'Calixte! This is one of my other halves, Nya.' Safira turned to show off the curvaceous scarlet clad blonde. 'Ny'ika, this is Calixte. A friend of mine.' Once introductions had been made Safira slid three shots across the polished wooden table. One for her, one for Nya and one for Calixte. 'Come sit, and get drunk with us.' More of a friendly demand than a request, a grin had replaced her smile and she had already lifted the shot glass to her lips. The amber liquid burned as it trickled down her throat, the suddenness of the sensation forcing her to inhale sharply. Once the feeling had passed she glanced between the two, a mischievous smile on her face. 'You're both one shot down.'

 

[Allya Vi'Dreya]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jML5ObGnnkw​

Objective: ???


Boredom. It was a constant enemy. When a person's mind was constantly going a thousand kilometers a moment, to have to slow down and stand any place you didn't want to be was difficult. But Allya was told to join the cruise. So she did. She always followed her father's commands and respected his authority. But no one said she had to like it, so she didn't. She wouldn't have obeyed that order even if they tried.

To get away from the boredom, Allya joined with the security forces on the ship. Her resume made it easy when a batch of their team got sick before the start of the journey. They all had drank at the same bar, bad batch of alcohol or something. Either way, they were quite happy to have the small, armed to the teeth Mandalorian onboard and helping wrestle in the drunks, break up fights, and patrol the ship. They had momentarily repainted her armor to the company colors, so she fit in better and the girl didn't fight this. Clan markings were still very much present, what did she care about a superficial color?

She took the chance to learn from some very experienced security personnel, these guys knew what they were doing, how to spot danger, how to profile individuals, and to put the heat on people so they didn't want to fight back. However, after the first couple of days, it got beyond boring, to the point she couldn't stand it.

Teenage mind switched over, and she began to get to know everyone, to figure out patterns, routines, where the security systems were located. Slowly a plan began to form in her mind, one that would relieve the mind numbing from this entire cruise. One only she could pull off, with the training and skills she had.

Each night, at the same time, she would go to her room and stay there, and she would hack into the security cameras. She created glitches that happened at the same time every day, with the same stimuli, just a standard malfunction, and she found a scapegoat. However, the plan needed perfect timing. But it was almost time. You see, today, was the day the Confederates joined the cruise.

​

It had been a long day of patrols through the ship. Drunks put in the tank, fights broken up, a cheater at the tables had been hauled off. It wasn't bad work. Honestly, she probably only resented it because she didn't have a choice to be here. But it made the dreary days pass quicker. Still, it was her secret plan that kept her going.

She had just hauled off two drunk men who were fighting. When they were lifted in the air with the force, they stopped struggling, and she threw them into separate cells till they were sober once more. Her partner and her walked through the halls of the ship. It was quieter, most of the guests were being fairly well behaved.

Once more, into the massive hanger the pair walked, and chatted. “So, Allya, how long do you plan on doing this gig?”

The teen shook her head a bit. “Probably another week, honestly. It's when my contract is up. I was only in as a temp, but, it's been good. A few credits, a lot of experience in a field I honestly haven't done before.” The helmeted head tipped to the man. “Met a few experts. Over all, good times.”

They entered the hanger, and began their security sweeps. Every corner of the cavernous bay was checked. She searched through a junk pile, and placed an object inside of it as she did. “Clear.”

 

[Kurenai Yumi]

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Location: Bar
Wearing: Black Tank Top, Navey Jeans
Peps: [member="Argis Volmir"]

Kurenai was not one for parties, she could never understand what people found fun about getting drunk and thrashing their bodies to much or getting onto some spice. Then again perhaps it was because she never really remembers her times at parties, sad to say when it came to drinking she was a lightweight, easily getting tipsy and soon her normal composure getting thrown out the window. Want came to reply the women's usually stoic attitude was that of a loudmouth hardy fighter, always trying to prove her strength one way or another, today that test of strength was good old fashion arm wrestling. After all, though all tipsy and turvy Kurenai wasn't about to go around suplexing people, that would mean getting kicked out, and thus less drink, a line of reasoning her mind could still make.

So far she was on a winning streak, having beaten a Mando not a few moments ago, earning a few credits in the process due to some bets, that and the man refusing to participate unless their was some sort of stake. Now the veteran warrior was looking for new prey, someone big and hopefully muscular , like a Wookie, or those 4 armed whatcha ma call its, the name eluded her through all the drink. With a bit more stumbling she finally came across her next target, well more like her forehead did but never the least she came across it anyways. Raising her head the blue haired women eye the back of a hulking man of unknown origins, a small playful 'meh' escaping her lips as she circled the individual.

"Heeeeeeey, you look strong, them arms a big no? I wanna arm tussle with you, see who's stronger, me or you, I'll even put a bet down, ssssoooooo, whatda say bud"? Though slurred and grammatical flawed her voice still carried a stern tone to it, one way or another she wanted to fight this guy. "Come one, to table, put em up big guy".

 

[Naedira Darcrath]

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Location: Sitting at a Table on Lido Deck with [member="Alkor Centaris"]​

Wearing: X x X x X​

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“You're lonely.”​

Naedira’s expression seemed to fall, though, it was only for a moment. Just a quick second where the loss of her life seeped through the mask of togetherness she wore every day. She assumed that it didn’t take an intuitive leap to know that something wasn’t perfect in her world. The Knight used the Dark Side as easily as she breathed. There had to be some sort of damage. Some sort of anger, hate, or passion to fuel her power. She was just better at using it than most. It was a tool, her tool, and it would remain that way.

Did she feel lonely?

“I am.”

Her reply was simple. Truthful. And she took a longer drink for his statement. She missed the husband she had lost on Naboo. Every day. The loss of him kept her temper at a constant level of simmering. Aiden. That wound was newer. Still fresh—Even though for the sake of saving face she pretended not to know his name. The former Dominus Prime had been right all along. She shouldn’t have let herself get things twisted, or, involved herself with someone important enough to call themselves a Viceroy.

She would never belong to that world.

Naedira cleared her throat afterward and reached up to run a hand through her hair while she thought of a new question. She didn’t exactly want to turn the conversation away from herself, however, part of her actually did. When she looked back at her partners face, she was a little surprised to see a sense of bewilderment. He seemed to want to know something more, but alas, it was her turn. “You killed your first…”, she trailed off, squinting, before she made her guess. “Before you were twelve?”

The auburn-haired woman had been much older when she’d learned what it felt like to hold a life in her hands. To know, without a shadow of a doubt, that the person before her would never see another sunrise. They would never see their friends. They would never see their family. They would never see or know anything ever again…And she was responsible for it. The kills blurred together with time…But she still felt the weight.

The droid waiter came by to refill their glasses and Nae held her tumbler out. It surprised her that Centaris was as perceptive as he was. Maybe there actually was something more buried beneath an exceedingly gruff exterior.

 

[Haastal Haran]

Location: Parier {Sabaac Table}
Tags: [member="Kiff Brayde"] [member="Daisy Americus"] [member="Kaden Farr"] [member="Galaar Fett"]
Wearing: Haastal Verd's Beskar'gam
Post: {II}

When [member="Daisy Americus"] arrived at the table, Haastal took a moment to give her a measuring glance. In the end he flashed her a slight grin, more befitting a smirk before turning his attention back to the table. It didn't last long, as one of the serving units approached the table hosting a number of drinks for the group to select from if they were of a mind. Haastal glanced at the drinks and then the table, but he had already made up his mind. "Got an ale?" He asked, and in the next moment the droid set the amber beverage down in front of the man. Haastal passed it a credit chit before shooing it away from him. He took a measured dip into his drink before exhaling audibly. Damn, it was good to have some credits back in his pocket. After downing nearly half of the ale, Haastal looked to Daisy, answering her question with another smirk.

"Special rules, sweetheart, dependin' on where you're playin'" No sooner than the Mandalorian had answered, had [member="Kaden Farr"] made his way over. He greeted the woman and when he intended to help Daisy, Haastal didn't have a mind to refuse him. "Take a seat man." He offered Kaden, before glancing over the table. A number more came to join the festivities, and yet more hovered over the table, watching like vultures. Haastal smirked at the tactic. Hover the table for a while, learn how each player played and then when you were ready take a seat on the turn of a hand. Cute.

When [member="Galaar Fett"] took a seat by Haastal, the younger man glanced over to the Mandalorian veteran. In reality Gal wasn't much older than Hastaal. Though when it came to the Mandalorian ranks, he had earned every chip and notch on his wargear, where Haastal's was shiny and new. Galaar's words met their mark....mostly. Haastal could take the word "fresh" or "new" from the translation.

Galaar was met with a nod, before Haastal spoke in what could be best described as broken Mandoa. "Su cuy'gar Gal. Mhi'udes ika." The pronunciation was off, but the gist was identifiable. His slang did not help, but still he would be able to decipher his words.

While [member="Kiff Brayde"] dealt the cards, Haastal turned back to Daisy, speaking plainly. "So the goal is to have the highest hand without goin' over twenty-three. Kaden can explain the individual cards an' suits to you but I can run it down plain and easy. Now, each round there will be a small pot you can run a chance of winnin'. But the whole game is focused over the total pot, the sabaac pot. Winner of the game gets that, that's the big daddy."

"So sport over there is gonna deal us each two cards. We all look at 'em then we go down the rotation, callin' out what ya got. Once we all know what's on the board, each player gets a chance to mess with their cards a bit. So we go back down the rotation and you can either keep your cards, draw from the deck, or use the interference field, the deadzone. If you use the deadzone, when you put a card there it won't be affected by a shift." He looked to [member="Kaden Farr"], gesturing to him loosely as he did. "Wanna explain the shift and winnin' the sabaac pot?" He asked, before looking back to Gal. This time when he turned to the man, he lowered his voice a bit, keeping the conversation between them.

"So, when we goin' back out? Isley said we'd take a few days R&R, so how many?"

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

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wearing: xxx​

@Nya | @Calixte Diantha | [member="Keira"] Verd | [member="Galaar Fett"] | [member="Safira Varad"] | @Awline Lechner​

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Gerwald never understood the reason people dressed up to get drunk, and Gerwald was certainly at the party to get drunk. The massive wolf had been recently faced with the reality that his sister, and others, had been trying to convince him of for some time. Of course while Gerwald had said he was going to swear off any destructive habits as he dealt with his recent singleness, Gerwald was not going to give up drinking his body weight in mead and whatever hard liquor the bar had to offer.

He had invited Alwine to keep him out of trouble, but he didn’t say he would wait for her. Gerwald slid up to the bar where a group of women seemed to be downing shots of something. Waving down the barkeeper he pointed to the women. “I want whatever they’re having and put their next round on my tab. You know what... send the bottle...” Alwine was certainly going kill him if she heard he was picking up the drinks of random women. [member="Naedira Darcrath"] would certainly have words for him if she picked up on what he was doing as well. The leather jacket clad lupine was on a mission to get drunk, and he didn’t care how it happened.

Gerwald waited for the bartender to point him out to wave at the women. He didn’t care if they didn’t invite him over, the large man was simply exploring what life was like as an unattached man. Perhaps in his mind he wasn’t ready to go buck wild and have a night of it, but Ger was stubborn enough that he was going to enjoy the night however it fell. He’d been drunk enough many times before to know the night would be a total surprise by morning. That was something he was okay with. Gerwald was ready for whatever happened, even if he got in trouble with his sister later.

 

[Nya]

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Wearing: xXx​

Tags: [member="Safira Varad"] | [member="Calixte Diantha"] | [member="Gerwald Lechner"] | [member="Keira"] Verd​

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As Nya arranged herself in the seat that Safira had set aside for her, the blonde couldn't help the grin that broke across her face. The redhead was a knock out, and she set the tray aside in a rush to sit up and lean across Safira, doing her best not to spill unceremoniously out of the little red number she'd tossed on and offering the woman her hand to shake, should she choose to accept it. "Calixte is it? Well if Safira speaks highly of you then you must be quite the woman. Please!" As she slid back down into her seat and arranged her dress around her thighs she motioned to the tray of shots, watching as Safi grabbed three and set them before the trio.

"I sent Safi out to bring us back someone to enjoy the evening with, and I'm learning quite quickly that Mandolorians are equal parts eager to please and fantastic hunters." Blonde hair was given a toss as Nya chuckled and gave her companion a wink, trusting that Safira would understand both the compliment and the implication. Soft grey-blue eyes regarded the raven-haired vision as she downed the first shot and declared them behind, sighing softly and reaching forward to grasp the small glass container between her fingers. The halfbreed hefted the glass and gave a cheers to the pair before speaking loud enough that her voice carried over the booming music, "To terrible choices and gentle hangovers!"

Lifting the glass to her lips, Nya down the shot in one go before slamming the small glass down against the table, upside down and smiling brilliantly to the pair. "Buy'ce tal!"

She sat forward, arranging herself against the edge of the chair as she started to tug the tray closer and grabbed up another three shots... Just in time for a lovely young waitress to interrupt as politely as possible and set a bottle and several more glasses on the table. She motioned to the excessively tall gentleman that had rested himself against the bar where she'd just ordered the tray - and Nya lifted a hand, not bothered that he'd already started to stroll towards the table as she waved him closer.

The sound of her chair scraping along the floor was muffled by the booming base as the blonde pulled the chair out beside her and motioned for the wolf to take a seat. "If you're buying then you are most certainly drinking with us, stranger!" White teeth flashed at him as she motioned to herself, "I'm Nya," and then around the table; "this siren beside me is Safira, and the beauty to her left is Calixte. Feel free to make introductions." She began distributing another round of shots from the tray, ensuring everyone had one before them before she hefted a tiny glass once more. "Buy'ce gal!"... And down went shot number two.

 

[Calixte Diantha]

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Wearing: [xXx]​

Tags: [member="Safira Varad"], [member="Nya"], [member="Gerwald Lechner"]​

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The hand that had extended towards the redhead was reached for without hesitation. Calixte’s fingers curled about the blonde woman’s hand and she offered the same smile she had given Safira to this woman she didn’t know. There was a moment during Safi’s introduction that caused Cali’s brows to loft, and her friendly smile became an instantly mischievous smirk. “Alright, I’ll let the restraining order go for now. Good hunters know what they’re doing, after all. But one third of your heart, Saf?” Cali clucked her tongue and took a seat, but positioned herself so that she could see both of the gorgeous women she was seated with. “Look at you here, one third all to yourself, and here I am. Can’t even get myself a proper date!”

The shot that was slid her way was picked up, and Cali tossed it back after a simple solute. The booze burned its way down her throat, and she hissed through clenched teeth before putting the glass down. “Technically, I’m ahead.” She mused, and she gestured to the drink she had, had before making her way to join the pair. “Also, since I haven’t said so before this point, Nya its extremely nice to meet one of the persons responsible for keeping my favorite curly haired companion happy.” The redhead then squint playfully. “However, I can’t promise everything she may or may have not said about me is true…”

A grin lifted the corners of her mouth, though her gaze shifted from the beautiful pair beside her, to the waitress who had brought them more drinks. Cali then leaned to see around the waitress so that she could get a look at whomever had sent the bottle their way. “Well, it apparently pays to sit with attractive women, hm?” she smirked and situated back against her seat, though was sure to wave her fingers in greeting to their new found company once she had been introduced.

More numbers to drink with. This was going to prove to be a very interesting night indeed.