Kabal Stomp | CIS Dominion of Kabal

[Ascendant Muse]

K A B A L​

In the wake of an uprising...Rebuild.

It was so easy for the singular worlds to be overlooked in the modern Galaxy. As the largest nations gathered together to wage war, malicious entities now had the means to sink their claws into the vulnerable. While their armies could never rival that of a unified state, they were more than enough to bring a planet to her knees. Such was the plight of Kabal. In the time which came before, the distant world had been a center for the arts. Architecture, Literature, and all the finest offerings of civilization boomed upon its soil.

That all changed in the fires of the Crucible.

It was unclear why Kabal itself had been chosen, but soon the planet was trampled underfoot. The militant slavers struck hard and fast, catching the world completely unawares. Over the course of an exceptionally brief campaign, Kabal had fallen. Faced with the mass enslavement of his people, Premiere Dimond balked to the demands of the organization. The freedoms which allowed the arts to flourish upon Kabal vanished overnight - and in their place came silence. Oppression. And the raising of a warmachine. All able hands were devoted to the task of constructing the Heart of Philistia.

But in the midst of this Hell, the people of Kabal began to stir. They had tasted the apex of peace and would not surrender so quickly. Their rebellion was as a mighty hurricane - slow to build, yet mighty when unleashed. Bold protests exploded into riots. Riots into skirmishes. Skirmishes into fullscale battles. For months, Kabal was torn apart by the battles - but in the end, hope prevailed. They, alone, succeeded where other worlds had failed. But at what cost? Their world was a broken, razed shadow of its former self.

And the Crucible, while ousted, was the furthest thing from gone. Thus, the Premiere turned to the ever-expanding borders of its neighbor in the hopes of securing a peaceful future. While Kabal had managed to see victory alone, standing together with one far greater would turn their temporary peace into a permanent one. He offered their world as a member of the ever-growing community. But, for the pledge of aid in reconstructing their broken world, the Premiere offered an unexpected boon.

The Heart of Philistia was a power source unlike any other. The Crucible claimed that it boasted the might to silence a sun - and in their defeat, the unfinished product had been left behind. And, with the nation's solemn vow to restore Kabal to its former glory, the Heart belonged to the Confederacy. And, on this day, the Southern Systems made good on their promise to the bold world. Descending en masse, a fundraising effort was launched in the hopes of providing a much needed reprieve to the people.

This day, the capital of Shoribus lit up for the first time in a small eternity - for today, they celebrated.

Spoiler: Points of Interest

The Garden of Lions is a fitting reflection of Kabal's devotion to the music. Before the War, the people flocked to this verdant space to indulge in the sweetest of musics and the most thrilling of dances. Tonight, the spirit of the Garden comes alive again! Rows of tables had been laid out to the east, adorned with mountains of local cuisine. Beverages were ferried upon trays and flowed amongst the dancing souls. Here, one can taste of the pride of Kabal and dance the night away!
​

The Promenade is a reflection of Kabal's devotion to creation. While some choose the space to quietly contemplate the craftsmanship of the numerous sculptures standing about, the truth is far more mundane. Being only a stone's throw from the Garden of Lions, here most choose to retreat from the music in favor of the quiet of nature. With carefully maintained greenery and a river flowing betwixt, the Promenade is a fitting place to simply enjoy the bounty of Kabal!
​

The Canals are a reflection of Kabal's devotion to architecture. Blessed with a river spanning the length of the capital, travel by gondola is almost commonplace. And standing on either side of the river are bustling shops, towering statues, and breathtaking views. Here, one can enjoy the full sights and sounds of the city - and maybe even spend a credit or twenty on a souvenir!​

Spoiler: Tag

[member=A'Runda]
[member="Adelle Bastiel"]
[member="Alden Akaran"]
@Alkor Centaris
[member="Ashara Evanaris"]
[member="Willow Fae"]
[member="Amelia von Sorenn"]
[member="Aston Jacobs"]
[member="Aya Clarke"]
[member="Caesar Kenway"]
[member="Chikako Liona"]
[member="Corvus Dravere"]
[member="Cypher Raige"]
[member="Daisy Americus"]
[member="Damsy Callat"]
[member="Dalton Kenway"]
[member="Darth Tacitus"]
[member="Darth Novus"]
[member="Daxton Bane"]
[member="Destroyer 2873"]
[member="Dianah Vi'Dreya"]
[member="Erin Tenel"]
[member="Eli-Mae Forrest"]
[member="Fawn Alzi"]
[member="Faye Irithiel"]
[member="Gerwald Lechner"]
[member="Havoc (CT-375)"]
[member="Holt"]
[member="IG-65A"]
[member="Ingrid L'lerim"]
[member="Ithiel Vi'Dreya"]
[member="Jayce Pryde"]
@Joannis Campbell
[member="John Locke"]
[member="Jorco Czeku"]
[member="Jorge"]
[member="Josh Dragonsflame"]
[member="Jyoti Nooran"]
[member="Karlie Lynn Destat"]
[member="Kasca Fen"]
[member="Kathryn Foster"]
[member="Kayla Wylen"]
[member="Keva"]
[member="Kiff Brayde"]
[member="Kingsley"]
[member="Krystal Estain"]
[member="Kurayami Bloodborn"]
[member="Kurenai Yumi"]
[member="Kyber"]
[member="Kyrinov"]
[member="Luna Terrik"]
[member="Luna Vega"]
[member="Lyla Quinn"]
[member="Maple Harte"]
[member="Maur"]
[member="Mauer"]
[member="Minerva Vessia"]
[member="Muad Dib"]
[member="Nine Lives"]
[member="Oax Ordo"]
[member="Orion Trex"]
[member="Petra Cavataio"]
[member="Pom Stych Tivé"]
[member="Qaarssk Roark"]
[member="Razelle Breuner"]
[member="Roy Americus"]
[member="Rylan Kordel"]
[member="Scherezade deWinter"]
[member="Sor-Jan Xantha"]
[member="Srina Talon"]
[member="Talon Rahl"]
[member="ToKola Bakari"]
[member="Teyla Riggs"]
[member="Valencia Hadley"]
[member="Vanric Dannon"]
[member="Veronika Fleischer"]
[member="VildarnTentoria"]
[member="Voph"]
[member="Vyra Silara"]
[member="Vytal Noctura"]

 

[Kyyrk]

​

Objective: Socialize​

Wearing: This​

Tags: None Yet​

​

Voph walked quietly among the plant life within the gardens. He'd already eaten his fill. Hardly enough to sate a child. And yet...He was not hungry. He hadn't been for some time. Not since Crait. Something had changed in him since Tanaab, and Crait only saw him spiral further into whatever hole he had found. The lack of sleep was nothing new, he rarely slept anymore anyways. But his hunger had turned from food to something....else. He did his best to cover it up. To keep the others from knowing what was wrong. If only because he himself hardly knew.

But Kabal promised to be a relaxing break. A chance to take his mind off the question that plagued his mind. And the music that filtered through the otherwise quiet night air was certainly doing just that. Voph smiled softly to himself. He recognized this tune. Probably. It sounded familiar. Like something he might have heard in his childhood. Not that he could remember such a time. But he liked to think the soft melody was something his mother sang to him as he prepared for sleep. Voph took a seat on a nearby bench, tucked away from the din of celebration centered around the food. He was sure his silence would be interrupted soon enough. But for the moment, it was enough...

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

Objective: Rock The Casbah!​

Wearing: Jet Robes​

Wielding: Seven-Stringed Hallikset​

​

It was called DROID AID.

All right, so the name wasn't much. There hadn't been a whole lot of time with which to focus on the marketing. Instead, the promoters had slapped a name on the event and then just focused on logistics from there.

What was Droid Aid? A charity concert thrown in the Garden of Lions, with all proceeds going to various relief work happening on Kabal.

When the word had gone out, through the Knights Obsidian network, that the CIS was sponsoring a concert on Kabal of course Zak had been the first to volunteer to help with the concert. Not only did he get to be the number one groupie to just about every band that showed up -- Gunganlicious, Underground Revival, Marilyn Mando'ade -- but by helping as a stage hand, he got the same backstage access as the people with VIP status! How was that not an easy decision to make?

"We need a sound check on the main stage!"

Looking up from where he was connecting a power cable to a series of stage lights, the young Nautolan's head-tails bounced as he eagerly chirped, "I can do it!"

Coming out from behind the lights, the child slide across the stage. There was a seven-stringed hallikset that had been brought out for rehearsal, which would be taking place soon. From off stage, a Neimodian was positioned at the soundboard. "All right, Zak. Just give me a couple of strings so I can set the levels."

Picking up the stringed instrument, the Nautolan seemed to stagger for a moment as he fumbled with handling an instrument that was nearly as big as he was. Finally getting it settled across his body, the child's fingers glided across the strings as he took a second in which to orient himself.

Then, finding his grip, the boy's left hand pressed on the chords as his right strummed the strings.

Spoiler: Zak's Song | Vamo 'alla Flamenco (Acoustic Guitar Solo)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6gbRe2AFbVQ​

A moment. A heartbeat. Inhaling deeply, the boy held onto his breath as he strummed the strings a second time. Hearing the notes fade into the wind and he closed his eyes.

He strummed the strings a third time. He could feel the notes trickling into the Force. He could peer out into a melody that was not yet playing, as his fingers started plucking out a tune as the feeling took control and seemed to guide his hands. The fingers of his left moving up and down the neck, as his right strummed and plucked at the strings with a preternatural precision.

Head-tails bobbing, the boy's head was swaying as he felt the melody pass from the Force through his body, through his body into the instrument, and from the instrument out into the world. Soon his whole body was moving -- skirting from side to side and shuffling about the stage as he built up a furious cresendo that finished the brief song.

Then, opening his eyes, the Nautolan found himself breathless. Caught up in a moment, the sweat causing his green skin to glisten, the boy seemed to wake as though from a reverie. That had just been a few strings? Right?

"How was that?" the child asked.

For his part, the Neimodian sound technician's jaw was on the ground.

 

[Madalena Antares]

Wearing: Dress
Tags: Open

Another party for the Confederacy. Madalena walked quietly, slowly, through the promenade, the vendors around her unable to garner her attention for even the briefest of moments. How many such parties had she attended during her time with the Confederacy? How many events had she been to? Beyond count – every single one that she had known of, invited to, simply told would be a gathering of Confederates, she'd been there.

And although she had been to so many, and she had not been to all of them with [member="ToKola Bakari"], it was him that she was missing now. Him that she wanted to be there by her side. They had walked by a similar promenade almost a year ago. It had been the day their relationship had changed from employer and employee to something else. It had taken them months to figure out what that else was, but that had been the start of it.

She could not understand it. Could not comprehend it. When her soul had been in danger, when there was a real possibility that she would not exist, ToKola, back then Cardinal, had done everything within his power to made sure she came back, that she was whole. And they were, a bare handful of months later, and he was dead, and she could not do the same for him. She could not find him.

Not the Mandragora, not her sister, not any other serviced she had hired, managed to find him. All she had was some DNA in the form of blood that had not been properly cleaned off one of their weapons, but that would not bring him back. It was enough to clone him, but without the information, without what made ToKola himself, it was nothing but a disgusting experiment, one that she would not give a hand into attempting.

Madalena paused her walking, empty gaze staring into the distance. This had been meant to be a day of joyous celebration. Not moping around, not mourning. Was this mourning? She was not screaming and crying. She felt empty, hollow, as though she had lost all of her limbs. And yet she went on. She still worked. She learned why her sister threw herself into mission after mission now, not to prove herself anymore, but to keep herself distracted from the nothingness inside her chest.

Soon. Half an hour more, and she would leave. Madalena resumed her walking. Let those who mattered realize she had shown attendance, had not skipped out, and then she could go back home and sleep on the bed that she and ToKola had shared, the bed that was now cold and empty.

 

[ToKola Bakari]

Death is only the beginning.​

​

To'Kola knelt in the long grass, drinking deeply from the well of knowledge and spirits. It was like a refreshment that revitalized him, brought his soul to a true place of harmony. His lips turned to a smile as he stood over the well. The substance inside was illusive, unseen. Just as everything else around him was. He could see nothing, for there was nothing to be seen with the eye. He could hear nothing, as there was nothing to be heard with the ear. No, everything around him was felt through the great sea that had consumed him. The grass surrounding him was as familiar to him as his fingers that brushed against it.

His head rose and he saw the evening sun washing over him. The sun was not bright, yet it illuminated all the lands around him. His chest was bare, yet his lower half was covered by a dark brown robe that was nearly translucent.

"You should not be here." A voice called out to him. The voice brought a smile to his face as he realized just who it was. It had not been the first time since his death that his father had come to visit him and he did not imagine it would be the last.

When To'Kola rose from the grasses, he turned to see the man behind him. His father was skinnier than To'kola and even appeared to be younger than him. His hair was locked into thick braids that fell down to the grass below, lightly brushing over the thick reeds as he made his way to the man. "I cannot return. The gods have already decreed my fate, baba." He said, speaking in a peaceful tone as his father approached. The skinnier man chuckled lightly, before embracing his son. "I have been dead a long time. Trust me, it is not yet your time."

"Then why have the gods allowed me to join them here? Why else would they summon me to the great ocean?" To'Kola asked, holding his hands out, wide as he looked to the ethereal plain before them. His father craned his neck to the side while shrugging ever so slightly. "I do not know, my son. I only know that you are both here....and there." His father held a hand out before him. It almost seemed as if the scenery before them had become like water, folding and melding at the command of Torak. The scene before them turned to an image, draped in darkness and shadow. It was To'Kola, his body laid in the realm of the living, his chest rising and falling as if life still took him.

"It cannot be." To'Kola said, gazing out at the image. Torak's hand curled into a fist and in the next moment the image faded back into the scenery of the ethereal plain.

"When first I saw you, I was sure I had been reunited with my son. However, immediately I knew it was not to be. It is not yet your time, To'Kola." He said, a somber smile upon his face as he looked to his son.

"Then how do I return?" He asked his father.

Torak glanced back to the scenery, shrugging at To'Kola's words before making his way back the way he came. "You're asking the wrong person." Just as he spoke, Torak pled with the great ocean to bend once more. The scenery began to shift and turn, this time it's image was revealed to be [member="Madalena Antares"]. She was as she had always been. Beautiful. To'Kola's hand reached out at the image of her standing in the middle of some strange promenade. Her body hugged by a dress that he had always favored. His lips curled to a smile just as his hand touched the image. That was when the ethereal plain shifted violently.

It bled away, all of it. The grass, the sun, and even the presence of his father was gone in the next moment. All that remained was the promenade, forming around him as if he was there. No, To'Kola was not there. Not in body. Yet, his presence in the Force had shifted, regrown. He was back in the world of the living once again. He looked to Madalena. She could not see him, perhaps she could feel his presence but it was as if there was a sheet of glass between them. To'Kola could see it. Her eyes were different, the life within her was not as it had been, In his death, she had been damned.

His arms, translucent and of the other world, they came around her. Though he was not truly touching her, she would feel his warming presence. She would hear a single word. "Yua."

Then, yet again, he would drift away. His presence....elusive.

 

[Karlie Lynn Destat]

Location: Duh...the canals.
Tagging: Open for fun interactions...
Posts: 1

Where else would one get the most out of checking out the city's architecture...both new and old?

Karlie had foregone taking one of the launches..a kind of long open boat that commonly transverse through the city's waterways...the canals.
It weren't for her lack of interest or muse. On the contrary, she much enjoyed the notion of sitting back and slowly float alongside the city's waterways at cat eye level. Only that for now, she wanted to check out the architecture at a higher vantage point...right now on one of the many ornate stone bridges which gave her more of a keen perspective on the beautiful old buildings separated by the waters. It were an old planet feeling...one which emanated warmth...or so she were feeling.
And with that, her mind and imagination wandered about scathing both reality and dream.

Kkkkkkripip... (sound of a phonograph needle scrapping across the record groves)...
Sigh...
Ok, so it took a lot of imagination for her to see the city and it's many waterways as it once were, for there was much remnants of what had just recently plagued this system and it's wonderful old cities.
But Karlie could see/imagine the once splendor of it all and it were literally coming back feverishly as she stood gazing at the workers. The people of Kabal were en mass rebuilding/resurfacing...repairing all that had been stained and left to crack under the Crucible. Their oppressors were not at all interested, nor concerned with the beauty of the system, nor the craftsmanship and inspiration of it's people. To the Crucible, this system only served them for their own purpose and of the populace and indigenous people...very little.

For what purpose had she been requested to go to this system on behalf of Castagne? Her father [member="Tarssin Destat"] the Viceroy of her home planet had asked her to come here. Karlie had to comply for the sole reason she were IBI (Internal Bureau of investigation) one of the executive branches of the Castan government. But ever since Castagne had joined the CIS, her bureau were no longer just confined to home security. She now served the greater good of the CIS...to much her displeasure. But that had personal roots, and by no way were she going to push her luck and speak her mind against some of the CIS policies and certain campaigns.
Karlie were not blind...
Although Castagne itself were a state of the CIS and it's Viceroy (her father) served under the Vicelord [member="Darth Metus"] , she had no recourse but to follow suit...serve the sith by proxy.

"Sigh.." She shook that living nightmare thought aside.
"...we're not doing this right now, Karlie."

She were instructed..coached even by her father and the Cabinetry to keep her thoughts to herself as she had no sufficient evidence whatsoever to expose the sith for what she believed he were. Karlie had gone through an exercise a few months back she didn't wish repeated. But somehow or other she came out of it unscathed for the most part. Odd that most of what had taken place she could not completely recall...

Still, she had no proof, no evidence and certainly not many supporters if any, that had the same suspicion as to the direction the CIS were leading it's states.

Well, she were here now on Kabal, following the ousting of the Crucible. And the CIS were here with it's many represented states to aid the people and system to recover. Even Castagne had sent it's share of support by means of goods and personnel. Karlie had been given charge of the convoy that had brought Castagne's aid to Kabal. The crossing (the jumps) had all gone without a hitch. Her main job had been done and the distribution of those supplies were handed over to the existing working government of Kabal.
Her role now were to asses how everything were coming together..how the system were rebuilding.

She looked over from one of the bridges over the canal...the people of Kabul were all busy getting their lives and homes back to where it once were.
She could see the improvements already and she had only recently been here a few days already.

Yes, Shoribus were coming back to it's former beauty before her eyes...

 

[Kerstan Blackmoore]

​

w. [member="Áine"] | wearing: xxx​

​

Kerstan found himself on Kabal with one mission, paying Áine back for the horrid trip to the jungle, and the subsequent clothes which had been ruined walking through it. Xagobah had not been the tropical vacation she had likely been after, and the holiday which Kerstan had promised at some point, so as compensation Kerstan had promised her a weekend of shopping and fancy hotels. Kabal seemed to be able to provide that and more with the recent liberation and celebration. It did not take any convincing at all of course. In fact, when Kerstan had proposed the trip the heavy reminder of what the fiery redhead was owed had been her answer. There was no getting out of the amount of credits this was going to cost him, though Kerstan did not seem to mind it at all. His mind was more focused on the fact something like this was not even possible a year ago, and the fact the woman he had fashioned was back in his life was more than enough motivation to give her whatever she wanted.

Things between them were different. Her early years had been those of instruction, learning, experimentation. Kerstan was the master, and Áine the eager child learning at his feet. Now she was much more. Áine had been forced to grow into her own, and the words Kerstan had spoken on the day she woke up had become more true than Kerstan had ever thought they would. Even after he had abandoned her somehow Kerstan had managed to be everything he said her would, and his ego cherished it all.

The gondola moved through the water at a relaxing pace. A soft breeze was on the air as the pair leaned back into the pillowy cushions set in the center of the wooden boat. Everything seemed perfect, from the weather to the busting of life coming from the marketplace and shops which lined the bank of the river which ran through the city. This was the kind of life and treatment Kerstan had bred Áine to thrive upon. His lessons had been about fitting into noble circles and having enjoying the same appetite that class boasted. Since they had met once more, Kerstan had begin to teach his creation new things. Street vendors had sold her their delicacies as Kerstan insisted she also learn to walk among the common undetected. She was a skilled assassin, and Kerstan sought to ensure she mastered it all.

Kerstan leaned in the redhead's direction so his lips were close to her ears.

"Does this satisfy your demands," Kerstan asked already knowing the answer.

His smirk snaked up his cheek as he leaned back against the cushion. Soon the driver would stop the small boat and the pair would be free to explore the market, and Áine would be free to bankrupt her creator.

 

[Darth Metus]

Location: Shoribus, Kabal
Objective: Observe.
Tag: [member="Karlie Lynn Destat"]

Unease settled into the Shinobi's bones.

Opening the tome that was his existence was not an activity which defined the Serpent. The bloody history which had cultivated him demanded the exact opposite. To seclude one's self from attachments was to ensure one's survival. To burden one's soul with bonds was to jeopardize one's ability to endure. Having long since departed from the warring states which had scarred Him, Hisashi had deluded himself into thinking that a contradiction to this reality was permissable. He had allowed one - [member="Áine"] - to step closer than any before.

Yet just as his guard was lowered, the bloody past reared its ugly head. Remnants from the era of war upon his homeworld surfaced in the shadows - and the Serpent found himself afraid. Not for his own wellbeing, but for the survival of another. He had allowed himself to jeopardize his ability to survive...and thus, the following months had seen a silent rift cut into being. Hisashi did his absolute best to keep the fiery-haired woman safe from the demons of his past. And this demanded departing from her side.

For, if he stayed, a target would have been painted on her back.

It had been weeks now since he had seen the Sorceress. Fleeting moments between sorties and too-brief holocalls were the totality of their companionship now. And, to fill that void, the Serpent fully devoted himself to the demands of the Confederacy. Most notably, the Knights Obsidian had been called to Kabal to aide in the reconstructive efforts. Whilst the politicians and their ilk provided funds and assets towards the cause, the Knighthood would ensure that the Crucible did not leap forth from the shadows.

Thus, despite how lazily the gondola flowed down the river, the Serpent remained alert.

His appearance was a far cry from this fact. He sat, silently, towards the front of the boat where he was joined by two other souls. One was a native of Kabal who propelled the vessel through the quiet waters. The other was young woman of blonde hair. While he was able to see her features from underneath his hat of straw, his countenance would have been obscured from her gaze. And, as their voyage went on, he picked up the mutterings which fell from her lips. "You seem troubled, young one." The comment was simple and direct - for there was no better way to pass the time than to offend one's company...right?

 

[Josiah]

Location: Shoribus, Kabal
Objective: Education
Tag: [member="Mara Denko"] | [member="Krystal Estain"] | [member="Amity Khoury"] | [member="Zoe Rosella"]​

---

When he closed his eyes, he felt at home.

The Jedi was no stranger to such vibrations underneath his boots. With every stride away from the Garden of Lions, the pulsations grew fainter - and yet, they would persist for the duration of his stay in the locale. The source? Music. Thunderous bass, the symphony of strings, and a chorus of voices always resulted in such iconic vibrations. And, for one native to the cesspit of Nar Shaddaa, such realities were commonplace. There were countless nights where a young Josiah had to combat the thuds of speakers in order to earn his rest.

Simply thinking about such things put a light smile on the man's face.

Back then, Josiah would never have seen himself in such a position. And yet, despite the circumstances of his upbringing, the man existed as a stark contradiction to Nar Shaddaa. Where the distant world reveled in corruption and violence, the Jedi-turned-Obsidian worked to fight against it. Where the Hutt Moon thrived on looking out for one's self, Josiah had learned the value in uplifting and relying upon others. It was beautiful in its own right. Ironic in another. For one of such terrible beginnings had managed to find the Light.

And with said discovery, he attempted to make the best of each day. Thus, did he stride boldly away from the growing festivities in favor of a more quiet locale. Kabal had been the subject of immense suffering up until recent history. A vicious, slaver organization had seen fit to raze its identity to the ground. In an effort to right this calamity, the Confederacy had descended with assets and fundraising efforts galore. Such was the cause of the thunderous bass rumbling beneath the Jedi's feet. But, while most would take in the sights of Kabal and revel in what remained of the arts, Josiah wanted to seize a shining opportunity.

For under his watchful eye were young souls that needed guidance down the path of Light.

The Jedi selected a rather imposing statue of a sphinx as a fitting spot to cease his advance and lowered himself to the verdant earth. Before him were his apprentices: [member="Krystal Estain"], [member="Zoe Rosella"], and [member="Amity Khoury"]. Each had found their way into Josiah's life in rather unique ways. And for each, he would stop at nothing to see them mature into the Lightbearers he knew they could be. In addition to this trio, he was also joined by his better half: [member="Mara Denko"]. Easily the more academic of the two Masters, Josiah valued her input during trainings almost as much as he did her presence in general. Almost. He was also certain that their child [member="Auteme Denko-Durren"] was around somewhere, but he hadn't seen her as of yet that day.

Once all were gathered together, the man produced a trio of flawlessly white crystals from the confines of his cloak. He offered them to his apprentices and gave his spouse a knowing nod. One of the most foundational aspects of being a Lightbearer was the art of constructing their lightsaber. Yet, for his students, the first hurdle was waking their crystals. "These are for you." he began, pausing long enough for them to each claim one. "Now, a question. To each of you - what does a lightsaber represent?"

 

[Amity Khoury]

Location: Shoribus, Kabal
Objective: Education
Tag: [member="Josiah"] @Zoe Rosella @Krystal Estain [member="Mara Denko"]​

​

Amity lived for music. If she could hear it, even for just a bit, she began to tingle. There was something about the vibrations that felt so heavenly as if it were liquid energy seeping right through her skin. The soft music filled the air without effort, like the waves filling holes in beach sand; the sound rushing in and around every person in the area. The sound became softer with distance as they walked away from the Garden of Lions, but the delicate rhythmical throbbing was still there.

She watched as Josiah lowered himself to the verdurous earth, close to a rather majestic statue of a sphinx. The greenery and the river not far from them were a pleasant sight. The river was like a sleeping cobra. It lied across the land in smooth seductive curves, beautiful in the sunlight, cool and innocuous. The sun rays fell like a blanket of white upon the greenery. The air had the gentle heat of the season, not warm, or cold, but tepid. The trees were alive and were filled with all sorts of lifeforms.

Amity was eagerly looking forward to the training. The individuals gathered together as her mentor produced a trio of bright-white crystals from his cloak. The dark-haired woman stared in awe as she received one of the crystals, carefully observing the object. She paused for a moment before answering the question asked.


'Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe the lightsaber represents the core, fundamental philosophies of the wielder. The materials used in the construction, the engineering and shape of the hilt, even the simple colour of the blade, all have a meaning and a purpose. I've read many books about them.' Amity nodded her head and glanced at the others for confirmation, hoping that she was right about the matter.

 

[Karlie Lynn Destat]

Location: Duh...the canals.
Tagging: Open for fun interactions... [member="Hisashi"]
Posts: 2



There was only so much walking she could do during the day before it rolled over into the evening. Besides, her crono beeped just an hour before her tummy started to voice it's own demand for her to get it some sustenance.
Karlie had been for the most part of the day sightseeing, checking out the older sections of the city along it's many waterways. She had opted to walk along the banks of the canals, admiring the many old and quaint shops strung alongside the streets.
Most of all, she seemed to be falling for the antiquity part of the old section of the city, especially it's many ornate bridges that crossed over the canal. They literally were at almost every corner. And not one bridge, whether of stone or carved wood were duplicated. It seemed that each and everyone had their own character and story to tell. This were why she now felt the pangs of hunger for she were just in one of those moods to check over every bridge. of course there were more bridges than there was time in a day.

Her stomach churned again and she checked on her crono again, giving Karlie the stasis of her well being...
Nope, her status although not near anything to be concerned about indicated she needed to eat something pretty soon. Otherwise her medication weren't going to work properly. Yes, the blonde was diabetic. A condition which surfaced as a result of being midi-free. Seemed the midi virus had some beneficiary properties, other than enslave people to this one obscure binding force that seemed to churn about in this galaxy. This also gave her some substanance as far as her theory that humans, along with many other sentient beings were once midi-free in this galaxy...and the probability that humans may have migrated here from another galaxy altogether. But that were just her theories and they required more research, more archaeological field studies...something which at this time were quite difficult to follow through with. Wars, boundaries..the galaxy at this time were in more chaos than it had even been.
The CIS wasn't helping solve this problem either..just adding to it..

"Oh here we go again...
Need to stop and get off this wagon a minute..." She spoke to herself, looking about for a quaint eatery.

"Ah..that looks nice..." Karlie had picked up on such a small local eatery, with outdoor tables, sun-brellas and white linen. White linen table cloths indicated the place were clean. And so it were as she came over passing one..three tables before a male host of the establishment welcomed her to sit.


An hour later, mid-afternoon...

Karlie were leaving the restaurant. She had a little bit more to eat than she had anticipated, the food were so good. And yes, she certainly left a good gratuity behind, as the service was what she had expected and then some. The people of Kabal seemed very friendly and open to foreigners like herself. Then again, she weren't lugging around a small detachment of her battle droids. Not that she had even deployed any in battles. And she for the moment, like most often than not, wasn't at all carrying any arms...no weapons of sort. Karlie were more investigative for her bureau than an enforcer.

She started to think about maybe starting back, as the gps on her comm indicated a good two hours back to the hotel suite she were registered in.
Naw...right about now with a full meal in her tummy and quite tired as she had been on foot all morning long, Karlie opted to try a slow boat ride back to the hotel.
Securing one was no problem...only that it seemed to be a kind of end of day for many and just her luck, she had to share a gondola with who-knows-who. But the gentleman kept to his self and she sat down on her end of the boat. Seemed they were heading in the same direction for some reason. Yes, it did pique her curiosity...she were an investigator a researcher by nature. But she were not one to inquire out of the blue if he were from here or an off-worlder like herself...maybe even CIS.
So she took to doning her shades, sit back facing the Kabal afternoon sun and catch some rays here and there. The many bridges they crossed under provided some breaks in getting fully burned by the system's star, by the way.

Karlie most likely dozed off as her mind were elsewhere ..wandering to this part of the galaxy to a near forgotten memory to touching upon one of her theories to one of conspiracy involving the CIS. She must have let out a moan, or sigh...or even blurted out a word or phrase. But whatever it were, her eyes suddenly opened up behind those shades, as she had awakened to the fellow passenger's words.

"Huh?.." She were turned facing in his direction, slowly lowering her shades. Slowly as she were regaining full consciousness as to where exactly she were. For a moment she swore she were at sea somewhere. But that was the rocking of the gondola as the gondolier were swinging the boat to make a turn.

"Did I say something?.." No it weren't an acute reply, but an honest one. She at the moment didn't know if and what she may have said, as she hadn't captured the remnant of what she may have been dreaming about.

"Didn't mean to offend... must have dozed off a minute"...or two? How long had she been out? For that matter, where exactly was she?
Karlie took to looking at her com as to their coordinates, before returning her attention to the man.




[member="Hisashi"]

 

[Luna V]

Location: Canals | Objective: Explore | Outfit: x ​

Luna V stood in quiet contemplation as she surveyed her surroundings. The city of Shorinus was unlike any place she had been before. The young Atrisian HRD was used to modern minimalism, conditioned air, and sterile research laboratories. This place had an antiquated aesthetic, but it was, as a human might say, charming.

“Curious,” she remarked, peering down at the water that passed beneath the bridge. Many waterways were artificial, man-made creations that created a city-wide network. But this was a natural river that ran the length of the capital. Quite a smart move. Her expression was deadpan yet thoughtful, and a brow rose imperceptibly as a voice called out.

“Why not come down, enjoy a gondola ride? No better way to see the city!”

The droid girl blinked once or twice and descended the stairs. Now perched on the dock, she appraised the gondola-man and his craft. Quite an outmoded form of transportation it was. But, Luna understand the importance this route must have had at one time. “Thank you,” She said politely, stepping into the gondola. Luna sat placidly as the gondolier pushed off from the dock.

Popping her bag open, she pulled out her datapad and chose to snap a ‘self-picture.’ She positioned the camera to capture her head, torso, and the scenery in the background. Luna took in the resulting image, it had a nice balance of light vs. shadows… and the gondola driver had invaded her self-picture by leaning into the frame and smiling wide. In fact, she could hear the distinct vocal patterns -- laughter -- behind her.

Nevertheless, she sent the picture to her employer (and friend) [member="John Locke"], with the caption: “I am on a gondola.”

After all, she knew that most humans found images spoiled by unintended subjects humorous.

 

[John Locke]

Location: Kabal
Objective: See what you can see
Tagging: [member="Luna V"]

There was something about a party, something in the air as people forgot their troubles and cares and for just the one night. The sound of music, the smell of food and drink, the sight of friends and strangers mingling. Laughter and music mingled, creating a new soundtrack of their own as they mixed with the natural sounds of the garden. Every location, every party John had ever attended had been unique, special in it's own way. From the stuffy corporate parties, to more relaxed affairs, from galaxy level balls to a smaller, more intimate party with friends, they all had their charms.

Only, it wasn't always for him, there was a press in a party, people greeting and expecting you to engage with them, to join in the revelry and excitement simply through your presence in the room. It was why he had retreated out of the party, escaping out into the cool streets. Even here, the city was alive, people thronging the shops and the walkways. It was just...less crowded, less intense, it was exactly what the man had been looking for. A small smile tugged at his lips as creits changed hands, a small bag of roasted nuts nestled in one hand as he slowly made his way down the street. The buzz of his communicator alerted him to an incoming message, a soft laugh escaping his lips as he twisted, heading towards the waterway as he composed his reply. 'And making new friends I see.' This...was something he needed to see for himself, the sight of his friend on a Gondola, well they said new experiences were good for you but... 'please don't fall in'

 

[Quint Salis]

​

w. [member="Kalporra Flynn"]​

​

Zeltros Ink has been far too successful a venture to remain in one location. One [member="Joza Perl"] had managed to flash Quint’s work all over the galaxy and was a one woman marketing campaign. Her friend Angie was still pissed about the fact she caught them making out after doing her work, but Quint still could not complain about how that went down. Neither had been complaining about the situation until they were caught. Quint should have felt guilty. He knew the Zeltron had a massive crush on him, but his attention had never been toward her. Quint had seen Joza only once after that, when he stole something she was also trying to recover.

Some said criminals could be rehabilitated, but Quint was proof that was much harder than it sounded. Sure he did not run spice anymore, the former addict would never touch that stuff again. Crime just paid more than his tattoo shop, and his shop laundered credits rather well. Expanding was as much about his other ventures as it was the fact his tattoo shop was highly successful. Quint was good at what he did after all.

The Confederacy seemed to be a good place to attempt expansion. They were the largest power in the galaxy, and arguably the most wealthy nation which existed in most recent history. That meant a lot of clientele looking to blow superfluous credits on whatever inhibition they could find. For some it was gambling, booze, spice, or sex, but Quint knew that ink, the pain of the needle was as much a vice for some as the others were. That was why Quint went where the party was. Setting up a sterile booth along the Canals where shoppers could run into his persuasive charms seemed a good idea. Surely someone would stop by looking to adorn their body with his art.

“Skin is just another canvas.”

The sign was set up and the slogan put to work. Quint just needed to wait for his first customer. Hopefully the art displays and the holos of his work could draw some interested parties.

 

[Kalporra Djacq]

// Wearing; Weapon \\​

// [member="Quint Salis"] \\​

​

Nor was reform seeping into Kalporra's veins.

Rather, it was simply pooling on the serial killer's thick skin in the form of Obsidian squire robes, clinging to her back as an energy bow and its quiver for little lightsaber arrows.

She wandered down the narrow canal sidewalks, hands clasped behind her back. This was exhausting already: Her first Confederate party in public as a Warden. Though still a squire, the time had come for Kal to help keep up the Knights' public appearances. She had not had to talk to anyone yet, thank the Force, but regardless she wanted to go home. That place was a prison, different than the sort the service plead deal was keeping her out of, but one nonetheless. But anywhere was better than here, being forced to dance, so to say, like a puppet on a string by the powers, or Masters, that were.

A hefty sigh found its way out of Kal. She licked her chapped lips. And then she spotted it. The slogan across a ways on, and almost immediately, she heard the voice of a Knight. "...We protect the lives and interests of--"

She rolled her eyes so hard that she felt the muscles strain. Still, for some reason, her feet crossed to the stall, eyeing a hologram of what she assumed was a tattoo design as she went. A couple, a man and woman, stepped in her way, chatting excitedly about the prospect of getting it done. Kal just barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes again, opting to chew on the inside of her cheek instead. Honestly, she couldn't care less what people chose to do with their body, but the her she had been forced to become had a grander purpose that meant she couldn't just give into apathy.

Especially not when her street sense told her something was 'wrong'--by Obsidian standards, not crime's.

"'Scuse the interruption," Kal began after knocking on the side of the stall and clearing her throat rather loudly, in a way that insinutated she was not at all sorry for it. "You can't ink here if you don't have an active CIS tattoo licence." A dramatic pause followed as Kal's gaze wondered, taking in trade paraphernalia.

Finally, she glanced up at Quint with a raised eyebrow. "Have one?"

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

Pom sent her presence out before her. Feeling so many beings present which loved the light she lightly touched upon, not attempting to affect or intrude. She could identify, many that longed for the light to touch them again. It mystified her, this light, for she has such a strong natural aversion to it. It is not like Dathomir, where the Fanged God lives. The exact opposite also walk the grounds, dark beings, struggling to fill a new void, some like [member="Voph"] seeking answers to the most mysterious events the universe can muster to suffer unto mankind.

The young one [member="Zak Dymo"], burst forth with a true joy from his presence. While the Nightsister is the embodiment of Darkness, the light has touched her a few times in her life. Yet as it always withdrew from her reach to snuff itself out from her essence, she rebounded and stood fast against it's icy touch to never ensnare her heart again. The memories choked out of her soul and her mind, where chaos is her peace forevermore.

Sometimes, things just come together. Sometimes events or people just click, wether they want to or not. For Pom mostly they do not. If they do, they are short lived, for people are such fickle things; although Darkness never wavers!

[member="Madalena Antares"] stood alone on the peaceful Promenade. Pom felt the familiar sting of loss engulf the woman. She recalled once before, her Associate had toasted to her loss. Pom did not understand this social action. She could not bring herself to reciprocate, feeling it off, regardless if the intentions had been genuine.

Living within two realms of existence as a Sorceress, eating and breathing demons and spirits for life itself, many answers to the most elusive of questions asked by others, never need uttering. She has physically witnessed it all first hand through the spirits of the deceased, through the demonic inhabitants of the netherworld. Pom Stych Tivé stared intently before her down the walk, not at Magdalena, but at the presence of [member="ToKola Bakari"] who looked at Madalena. He seemed to desire to share something with the woman, plead for continued existence, the typical emotions everyone who has ever lived suffer after death. If he remains, she might agree to be his conduit, to permit him to relay what troubles his soul, provided his intentions are noble.

...And just that quickly the specter had vanished.

"This place needs a bonfire started somewhere!"

 

[Quint Salis]

​

w. [member="Kalporra Flynn"]​

​

A tattoo license!? Quint looked up at the woman asking to see it, and then went right back to his conversation with the people he had been talking to. If she wanted to see his license then she could at least be polite about it. Quint could read her type a mile off. She was dissatisfied with her lot in life and was enforcing what little authority she had in her current position. There were too many past prison guards that had been just like her. Quint knew how to handle them, and most days it was simply to ignore their power play, especially when they did not really have one. Naturally that only served to make the other angry, usually, but Quint knew that was the only way to keep from being bothered. Angry authority figures always messed up, and in this case, Quint was maybe counting on it.

However, as the others left because of the interruption, it seemed Quint had no choice.

"They seemed to mind," he said pulling out his datapad and showing his business license. "This really is not my first go at running a business. Not sure what made you think I was someone to pick on, but I can assure you everything is in order. Now, if that is all, I am trying to make some credits here."

Quint seemed to indicate with a head nod she needed to leave. Her presence seemed to be bad for business. Everything about Quint was to be expected, the v-neck t-shirt, slim cut jeans, even the latex glove box that sat next to his sterile packaged needles. If anyone looked around they would see he was certainly more than ready for business, and knew what he was doing. The woman on the other hand, she was dressed to patrol the streets and look for trouble. Having her close might make potential customers think he was just that... unless...

"You know what... if you want to hang around, you might as well help me sell my art. What do you say? See anything you like? It's on the house just this once..."

 

[Luna V]

Location: Canals | Objective: Explore | Outfit: x ​

​

Beep.

Luna V glanced down as her communicator's tone indicated a message. [member="John Locke"] had received her image and responded. The HRD angled a tiny glance over her shoulder, she would not consider the gondola driver a friend. But, realization was soon to follow. Yes, the gondola man's smiling countenance in her self-picture suggested a friendly connection. However, John was aware that they were not, in fact, friends -- this was humor. She blinked, looking back down at her messages. She was a highly advanced machine, to be sure, but simple expressions and colloquialisms were often beyond her understanding.

It was a limitation that she had come to accept.

Luna had been something of a blank slate, her own programming was ever-evolving. But, she hoped that as she spent more time with organics, she would learn more of their ways. There was no better time to practice. So, she decided to attempt humor of her own – “Perhaps, I shall need to install a personal flotation device,” Luna tapped out her response and pressed send.

And, as she processed this thought further... it seemed rather prudent. After all, she appeared quite light, but she would surely sink like a stone.

She soon spotted the form of Mr. Locke above, walking the sidewalk. Raising her hand into a gesture – a waving motion – she bid him greetings. She then instructed her driver to pull over at the nearest dock to allow her to disembark.

“I shall join you,” She called up to John.

 

[Ardasz Verd]

A winding network of canals connected each part of the city, albeit with a dizzying amount of navigation attached. Gondoliers had been paid by the Confederates for the evening to ferry people to their hearts content, and so Ardasz took the opportunity to sit himself down in one of the many gondolas and pop open his flask. He wore his oil-caked wife beater and a pair of canvas fatigues that served well for when he was working the forge or over a workbench with a blow torch. They showed evidence of burning and soot, but remained resilient nonetheless.

"Where to, messere?" the ferryman inquired cheerfully.

"A few times around would be nice," he told the other man, "I know that's a bit much, but I'm not the social type, I'm here for the drinks."

The other man laughed. "I see you are a man of culture, friend. If you slide a few credits my way, I think I can accommodate you. I'm on the clock after all."

"You drive a hard bargain," Ardasz laughed as he sleighted a credit chip from his pocket into hand and offered it to the venture capitalist. "But, I too am a man who understands money, and so, I would be glad to take your offer."

"Va bené," the man grinned, and he kicked off from the shore to begin their scenic tour.

 

[John Locke]

​

Location: Kabal
Objective: Have a good time
Tagging: [member="Luna V"]

​

John blinked once, twice, three times before a laugh burst from his lips as he stared at the response Luna had sent back to him. He knew the HRD had been exploring her bounds, pushing herself to experience new things and new opportunities. He'd just never expected her to return with a comment like that. There was a genuine smile on the man's face s he glanced back down at his communicator, shaking his head fondly as he popped the last of his treats into his mouth and crumpled up the bag, lofting it at a nearby bin. "He shoots...he scores." The man's voice as soft, really just pitched at himself as he celebrated his victory as he approached the edge of the canal.

To be honest, water, the idea of falling in and sinking to the bottom of the river, of any body of water had been a fear of his for quite some time after he'd gotten his cybernetics. He'd known that it wasn't a danger for him, not really, especially since he'd been the one who had designed the cybernetics in the first place, he wasn't that much heavier than a normal human, that he could swim to the surface, but those fears were harder to get rid of. It had taken some time but, he rested his elbows on the edge of the balustrade over looking the canal, raising on hand to wave at Luna, sometimes it took litterally throwing yourself into a swimming pool to get over it. "I'll be waiting right here," he called down letting his gaze sweep over the canal, at the other citizen of Kabal who had thronged around the waterway. The canal seemed to be a hub for activity, for people to gather at night, or at least if they didn't want to join the party in the gardens.