Mambo no. 5 [CIS Dominion of Thaere Privo | V-41]

[Paragon of Virtue]

​

As the people of the Confederacy spent the past several weeks fighting on every possible front, at last the cloud expanded to a planet that had absolutely no need for violence. The people of Thaere Privo welcomed the CIS with open arms, glad to finally become part of the Confederacy after months of careful negotiations. To celebrate the new alliance, the local government offered to throw a huge party for all the members of the CIS as well as their allies.

Music is lovely and loud, food and drink are being served, and it appears that everyone is having a good time.

Yet little do the party goers know that the drinks are laced with a strong love potion, a love potion that would make anyone fall in love heads over heels upon consumption. Where the energies rise, as do the emotions, and the night is bound to be a long one indeed.

​

This is a party thread. Have fun! Any character who drinks will fall in love with the first character of the sex/gender they swing towards to that they see. The effects will wear off at the end of the party. To make things interesting, it'd be extra fun if your characters don't fall in love with the person they are already seeing.

Spoiler

[member="A'Runda"]
[member="Aiden"]
[member="Akabane"]
[member="Alexandrite"]
[member="Alora Fae"]
[member="Alwine Lechner"]
[member="Amarant deWinter"]
[member="Amaya Cardei"]
[member="Amethyst Atreides"]
[member="Amethyst Sovereign"]
[member="Andi Americus"]
[member="Anya Malvern"]
[member="Arabella Darkhold"]
[member="Archim Calixis"]
[member="Ari Zanareth"]
[member="Arlox"]
[member="Aston Jacobs"]
[member="Aya Clarke"]
[member="Azmodan"]
[member="Betty Americus"]
[member="Braan Kell"]
[member="Bandit Six"]
[member="Caid Centurion"]
[member="Callisa Asran"]
[member="Cardinal Vi'dreya"]
[member="Carith Thelcar"]
[member="Chikako Liona"]
[member="Cim Salro"]
[member="Corvus Dravere"]
[member="Daisy Americus"]
[member="Damsy Callat"]
[member="Danger Arceneau"]
[member="Daniel Americus"]
[member="Dalton Kenway"]
[member="Darth Tacitus"]
[member="Darth Zurvan"]
[member="Daxton Bane"]
[member="Derek Dib"]
[member="Dhakarta"]
[member="Dianah Vi'Dreya"]
[member="Drauchir"]
[member="Ella Nova"]
[member="Erin Tenel"]
[member="Fawn Alzi"]
[member="Gerwald Lechner"]
[member="Gray Venasir"]
[member="Isarn Apis"]
[member="Ithiel Verd"]
[member="Jade Isara"]
[member="Jamie Pyne"]
[member="Jennifer Blanchard"]
[member="Jorco Czeku"]
[member="Jorge"]
[member="Jyoti Nooran"]
[member="Kalee Bladesworn"]
[member="Kaptan Americus"]
[member="Karlie Lynn Destat"]
[member="Kasca Fen"]
[member="Katria Vekarr"]
[member="Katrine Van-Derveld"]
[member="Kayla Wylen"]
[member="Kilia"]
[member="Kingsley"]
[member="Kip Ridel"]
[member="Kurayami Bloodborn"]
[member="Kurenai Yumi"]
[member="Kwelin Orlov"]
[member="Kyber"]
[member="Kyrinov"]
[member="Kyle Naktis"]
[member="Lady Psyona"]
[member="Lefwen Claskier"]
[member="Lirka Ka"]
[member="Luna Terrik"]
[member="Luna Vega"]
[member="Lyla Quinn"]
[member="Maple Harte"]
[member="Marek Starchaser"]
[member="Minerva Vessia"]
[member="Muad Dib"]
[member="Natasha Darkstar"]
[member="Nine Lives"]
[member="Osintrium"]
[member="Petra Cavataio"]
[member="Qaarssk Roark"]
[member="Razelle Breuner"]
[member="Roy Americus"]
[member="Rylan Kordel"]
[member="Samantha Jade"]
[member="Scherezade deWinter"]
[member="Shalita Vi'dreya"]
[member="Sola Marr"]
[member="Sor-Jan Xantha"]
[member="Srina Talon"]
[member="Tex Americus"]
[member="Teyla Ee'everwest"]
[member="Thalira Kiing"]
[member="Tmoxin Temi"]
[member="Traveler"]
[member="Treiades Rhoujen"]
[member="Umai"]
[member="Varick Lechner"]
[member="Veronika Fleischer"]
[member="VildarnTentoria"]
[member="Vyra Silara"]
[member="Xenro"]
[member="Zephyr Carrick"]
[member="Zhai'ellev"]

 

[Alwine Daye]

Wearing: dress
Location: by the bar
Tags: TBA

​

Another day, another party. Alwine stood quietly by the entrance, looking at those who were already on the dancefloor. Truly, there were few who could rival the Confederacy when it came to merrymaking, and this party was no exception. And yet she could not help but wonder if all these parties were actually necessary. Did the people of the faction truly benefit from dancing and drinking so frequently?

There was no easy answer she could provide to that. Every time she had attended a party thus (with the exception of the Halloween one), things that had little to do with festivity actually happened. The Lupine could not help but wonder if this one would be the same.

And yet, she could not deny that the short reprieve was welcome. These last few weeks had been spent training, fighting, and investigating, which had left her with precious little time to just let her hair down and enjoy herself. There were many mattered that burdened her heart, yet she could not find it within herself to confide in either of her brothers at present, one due to his direct involvement in the things she was investigating, and the other one was simply busy. She hoped to see both of them this night regardless. Alwine was nothing without her brothers, and she knew it.

Taking a mug of mead from the bar, she caressed it in her hands as she turned to look at the gathering crowds again, chocolate eyes looking almost desperately for a face she could recognize.

 

[Lirka Ka]

There were two things Lirka was good at: killing things (or committing war crimes, depending on who you asked), and running an impressive tab on the amount of booze she drank. The latter got to come especially into play, and hopefully the former wouldn't this time around.

It never took the Marshal long to make her own little tower of empty glasses, and that was just what she had done. Establishing "Lirka's tower of things that don't have booze in them number 53", just this time all the booze so happened to be drugged. And for better or worse someone was going to be given the Sephi's drunken attentions, and whoever had decided drugging the drinks was a good should be praying she doesn't figure it out once the party ends.

Juzzling down another drink, it was always amusing to see how she dressed for parties. Which was to say she didn't. At all. While others came in dresses she came in a full suit of battle armor and that was about it...was always interesting to consider if she actually owned anything else.

 

[A'Runda]

Wearing: X
Location: Near the dance floor

​

Once again the Tusken wore his "dress clothes" to a more formal event. He felt like he didn't have a whole lot of options when trying to wear culturally appropriate clothing. So he assumed this was the only real option for him. Yeah it meant he couldn't be that creative or expressive. But he also like having a more familiar attire for things like this. Even though anyone that knew him could most likely tell who he was. Tuskens weren't known for going to faction parties.

Catching a server pass by him with a tray of drinks, A'Runda picked one up as they passed by. Holding the glass in his hands he looked down at the liquid through his lens. "Blasts..." A'Runda muttered to himself as the realization that there was no straw to drink from for him. Sure it was a little silly drinking from a straw. But how else could he drink through his wrappings? Plus his clan used hydration packs for drinking, and that had tubes that acted like straws for them to drink from while masked. So that they wouldn't need to hide out in a tent anytime they needed a drink. Eating was a whole other thing though.

Letting out a sigh the Tusken looked around some to think of where he could acquire a drinking straw for himself. His eyes landed on the bar in the room. Shrugging to himself he figured that could be the best place to look as of the moment. Walking around the dance floor A'Runda made his way to the high bar counter.

 

[Vyra Silara]

​

​

​

|| <3 Attire <3 ||​

Indigo Crystal​

​

|| <3 Music <3 ||​

xX<3Xx​

​

|| <3 About To Sip <3 ||​

Sugarberry Wine (laced with love potion)​

​

|| <3 Tag <3 ||​

[member=Darth Metus]​

​

______________________​

​

Perhaps the most stunning element of this gathering, in Vyra Silara’s opinion, were the towering stained-glass windows.
From floor to ceiling, like so many shining guardians they lined the walls of the event hall, offering intricate pictures of the planet’s history as they cast their rainbow of colors brightly across the room. The air itself seemed to flicker with reds and violets, golds and greens and every shade of azure as people moved about disturbing the light, like so many finely cut gemstones. Aside from lighting and some modest floral pieces, decoration was minimal, but with such a dazzling display of natural beauty there was no need for excess baubles or elaborate ornaments.

She was transfixed. Drink in hand, the Queen descended the sweeping stairway into the main event and, flanked by two of her robed Handmaidens, crossed the floor, warmly greeting her fellow Confederates. The scent of freshly prepared hot hors d’oeuvre and sweetrice was distracting, but she made for the nearest window instead. Perhaps it was odd party behavior, but such multi-hued splendor would absolutely revitalize the dark grey meeting chambers in the palace on Relovian, and her budding appreciation for architecture was stirring. She craned her neck, holding the slender silver tiara in place with her free hand as she studied the craftsmanship, admiring the story each piece of glass told, the creative care with which it was placed. Relovian architecture in the city was very practical, simple lines and modern, logical design, and while it most definitely wasn’t all that important, Vyra often found herself yearning for the classic majesty of her home planet. When all the vital work was done, she had dreams of rebuilding, a seamless meeting of the practical and the arts, something to catch the imagination and refresh the spirit without sacrificing functionality.

And based on what she’d seen in her short time here, perhaps she’d consider an arrangement with Thaere Privo.


Making mental notes, Vyra raised her goblet to her lips as she backed away from the windows, took her first sip of the sweet wine, and turned around.

 

[Malok]

Wearing: [x]
Drinking: Netra’gal (Spiked)
Post: I

Though the Confederacy was becoming known for their lavish social gatherings, the Vicelord was seldom seen among the participating parties. More often than not, he would handle the burden of treaties and other such paperwork so that his colleagues might enjoy a few hours of peace. After all, with the Galaxy bearing its teeth upon every civilized nation these days, one never knew when the next battle would arise. Therefore, it stood to reason that moments like these should count. And should occur as often as logically possible. However, in a rare contradiction to his typical paperwork, Darth Metus found himself in attendance of the latest gala. For once, the more tedious part of any new member joining the fold had been taken care of beforehand - and thus the Sith was free to actually mingle with his people.

The festivities were only just beginning when Darth Metus made his arrival onto the scene; and straightaway he set about procuring for himself a beverage. It was here that one of the perks of his office came into play - for there was not an event with the Confederate name attached that didn’t carry at least three bottles of netra’gal. Just in case. Though he had long since left the life of a Mandalorian behind him, Darth Metus could not help but crave the succulent beverage every now and again. It was just one of the few, sweet reminders of a long once lived that he yet enjoyed. Tonight, he did not need to go far for the concoction, for a serving droid making an orbit about the dazzling hall had a tray waiting for its liege. Darth Metus offered a toothy smile at the sight and gladly took an ice-filled glass into his hand.

He nearly raised the beverage to his lips when a familiar face caught his eye. That of [member="Vyra Silara"], Queen of Relovian. In relatively recent history, the Vicelord and Her Grace had developed a rare friendship. When the days were slow and the battles few, Darth Metus would pay a visit to the Relovian throne for a morning of tea, brunch, and small talk. It was exceedingly rare that Darth Metus counted any among his friends just for the sake of being friends. More often than not, it took literal divine intervention for the Sith to let anyone in - such as the case of [member="Srina Talon"]. Or, he would be related to them. Or, one of the aforementioned would shove a new life into his own without consent. Such as the former Imperial, [member="Adron Malvern"], who grew on the Sith each day.

But Vyra was a friend. A true friend. Someone whose company he could enjoy and someone who enjoyed his company. Thus, he gravitated towards her almost immediately. His sulfuric gaze met her own and her opened his arms wide, as if to embrace her from across the room. Carefully plotted steps bore the Vicelord to the stunning display of architecture that had captivated her attention, until he was but a pace away. ”Good evening, your grace.” he said, giving a regal inclination of his head. His tone, as always, was alive with amusement.

”It’s been far too long! Are you well?”

And as the question fell from his lips, he punctuated them with a swig of his beverage.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Wearing: This ittie bittie white dress | Honey Boo Prototype Combat Boots
Wielding: 3 Czerka knives, in the boots.
Location: By the entrance
Tags: [member="Daisy Americus"] [member="Josh DragonsFlame"]

​

Madalena had not seen [member="Daisy Americus"] in a frikkin' forever! The moment she'd heard about the party that was being thrown for the CIS, she called her best Mando-bae up and screamed all excitedly into her ear, telling her that she absolutely had to come this time! Madalena had been to literally every party the Confederacy announced as official over these past few months but she never saw Daisy at any of them. It was time to change that. Her kind hearted heavy armoured friend needed to get out and have fun with people who were not necessarily family.

After that, she called her other best friend up, [member="Josh DragonsFlame"], and gave him he same shouting treatment. Sure, they'd been together at the Halloween party, where some of the people had been drugged, but this was a different party and there weren't any drugs planned (as far as she knew) and she'd wanted to introduce him to Daisy for a forever too. Josh needed more good people in his life that were not necessarily tied to the SJO, and Madalena had been thinking about trying to set the two of them up for a while anyway.

Whether the set up would work or not, it was bound to be hilarious. Madsy just hoped it would be hilarious for everyone involved and not just for her.

For the event, Madalena had chosen a white dress that usually made her feel awesome. It had been a while since she'd worn it last and that had been to a really lame outgoing outside of CIS space. But tonight was going to be a night to remember.

Madalena had a really good feeling about it.

 

[Josh Dragovalor]

Plus 1's: [member="Scherezade deWinter"] & [member="Daisy Americus"]

Josh had been showing Jason how to play with a new toy of his when Madalena had called, and had screamed in his ear about a party. Deciding to attend, the Silver Jedi's Master Of The Order would find himself walking into the entrance of the establishment, looking around for Madalena wherever she might be. Just to make fun of her for her takes on him about being a goody goody, he had rented a white suit (http://www.indochino.com/images/productimages/1424119945.414108219.primary.original.jpg) for the event. Coupled with white dress pants and black shoes, Josh would finish tying the braid on his hair to tie it back as he would enter.

"Maddy" Josh would speak from behind the woman when he finally found her, resting an arm on her shoulder and shooting her a cheeky smile. "You're looking good as always."

 

[Damsy Callat]

Form: Humanoid​

Wearing: Fish Net (literally); hair​

Drinking: Spiked water​

Tag: [member="A'Runda"]​

​

Damsy adjusted her cowl neckline for the umpteenth time in the hour she had been wearing this dress, trying to make sure the most noticeable scale patch on her neck was covered. As she finished, wandering around near the shadowed outskirts of the venue, she licked her lips. Even though she wasn't ever in true danger of drying out on land, her perpetually chapped lips suggested differently. But, truly, it was simply a harmless physical response to the sudden stop of constant saltwater flow over her body that it had been made for. For the same reason, the patches of scales not fully absorbed back into her otherwise flawless skin looked flaky around their uneven edges.

Glancing around the ballroom, Damsy glimpsed the bar and made it the destination on her mental map before looking down at her feet and stepping out into the bright lights. In a moment, her rods and cones had adjusted enough for her to raise her head to a normal height, but she still couldn't see clearly more than a meter and a half in front of her.

Walking slowly but purposeful and alert, the Human-Shi'ido hybrid made it to the bar without incident. She let out a gravelly sigh upon arrival and leaned on the counter. A bit of relief swept over her--walking had and would always remain a challenge.

"Can I get you anything, ma'am?" The question probably came from the barkeep, or so she thought because she didn't look up.

"Just a glass of water," Damsy answered, her normal voice probably sounding to him and anyone else within earshot like she was deathly thirsty. Like she had been wandering the deserts of Tatooine for days without water and had just stumbled into a cantina. When her order came quickly, she added, "Thank you."

 

[Brayden Antares]

Location: Bar
Tags: [member="Alwine Lechner"]
Wearing: XXX
Post: 1

Silver-green eyes casually roamed the location of the party. Officially, Brayden was here to attempt to improve his social skills. There had been much to learn in his relatively short-time among the known galaxy. In that time, he'd met a number of interesting people. Outside of his not-sister Madalena ([member="Scherezade deWinter"]), Brayden had only really had consistent interactions with three others. Two of them were members of the Knights Obsidian as he, technically, was in the moment. The third, [member="Faye Malvern"], had been much less of a forced interaction, bumping into each other randomly in a bar on Geonosis.

In fact outside of that one random night out on the mostly barren world of Geonosis, Brayden had only involved himself in a handful of operations and a fairly extensive personal investigation.

"There you are sir."

Brayden's attention hadn't really drifted from the man preparing his beverage, but he felt the server's statement interrupt his thoughts all the same. "Thank you." As the Endelaan native turned from the bar, his bright gaze caught sight of an increasingly familiar diminutive stature. Even from behind, Brayden was able to make out the general outline of Alwine. Taking a sip from his drink, the Sith Lord weaved casually through the crowd until he drew up beside Alwine. Out the corner of his eye, he allowed himself a simple appraisal of the woman, one that lasted a little longer than normal.

"Ms. Lechner. Nice to see you in a more..." What was the word for it? Contrived? Useless? No. Just because it was not a battle of blades did not make it any less influential or necessary. Brayden was...very slowly learning this. "...relaxed environment."

Nailed it.

In that moment, his gaze lifted, halfheartedly staring out at the masses. He briefly caught sight of Madalena, her appearance causing his brow to arch. Needless to say. He hadn't ever seen his sister or not-sister in such a...fashion. If it were truly Scherezade, Brayden probably would felt a great deal more protective than the ultimate nothing he presently felt.

After another large sip of his drink, Brayden turned to regard Alwine fully so as not to be rude. The second his silver-green eyes fell back upon her form, however, a...recently familiar feeling of warmth swept over his body. For the time being, the Sith merely swallowed, ignoring the sensation.

 

[Alwine Daye]

Wearing: dress
Location: by the bar
Tags: [member="Brayden Antares"]

​

Awine had been standing in her place, the drink still untouched in her hands, as she looked on at the party comers. There were a few aces she recognized by now, mostly due to her endless missions with the Knights Obsidian. Another one that her eyes fell upon was the mermaid fish woman she had met on Kamino, who seemed to be more comfortable with herself than she had been that day. In the distance, she could easily see the Jedi Master standing next to Scherezade Madalena, and she could not help but wonder, given the woman's dress, if there was something happening between the two of them, or perhaps it was the influence of recent events that dictates that something happened between almost any close enough relationship between a man and a woman. Or in the case of one of her brothers, a man and a man.

Her thoughts ceased to drift the very moment she was addressed. Turning around, chocolate eyes automatically looking up, falling directly on the glowing gaze of… "Greetings, Brayden Antares," she said, giving the man a nod and a little smile, "or would you prefer I call you by your title?" knowing already the matter of his ancestral home planet, the Lupine permitted herself a little giggle before adding, "Executioner, was it not? Just like me."

Peering at his drink, she petite woman easily saw that it was not mead, but she did not know what it was. Her knowledge of various drinks was limited as the more sophisticated options that were now available to her outside of Stewjon were so far from the limited options she'd had on her home planet, and she had yet to take the time to come to know what else existed in that department. There was so much to learn, so much to see and experience, all the time. Alwine knew in that silly little moment that Caid had been right; she'd had her list of traumas and life behind her, but as far as the galaxy at large was concerned, she was little more than a child in the ways that mattered.

"You clean up well when you are not busy being the demon-twin," she complimented him, or at least hoped he would receive it as the compliment it was meant to be. Raising her drink to her lips, ready to drink it down in one go, she stopped herself. She knew so little of the culture Brayden came from, and for the moment she felt slightly uncomfortable drinking the way she would have on Stewjon with her brothers. Instead, her hand moved, the mead now offered to the man. "Mead," she explained, "a man is not a man and a woman is not a woman where I come from, if they cannot drink it with joy. Would you like a taste? And what is it that is inside your own glass?"

 

[A'Runda]

Wearing: X
Location: Bar
Status: Drugged
Tags: [member="Damsy Callat"]

After making his way to the bar, A'Runda sat his glass down on the counter. Seeing that he'd yet to drink it, the bar tender looked up at the wrapped man with some confusion, as if he'd gotten the wrong drink. Then A'Runda spoke, "Could I get a straw please?" With that simple question the bartender nodded. In the mean time the Tusken looked around to see that the party was jest beginning to become more lively as he recognized more member of the CIS.

Then his attention was brought back to the matter at hand, or more like the matter in his hands as the bartender gave him a straw. Thanking them before they went to go serve another patron down the bar. Finally A'Runda moved the straw between his wrappings and sipped from his drink. Suddenly he was confused by the flavor, pulling the glass away he looked down at it. It was surprisingly good, but what could you expect from someone who'd eaten a life time worth of black melons. After the thought he continued to drink until there was no more.

Then as he finished he hear a voice from down the bar. It sounded like a very parched women. Looking over to see he was suddenly hit with a bombardment of overwhelming emotion. He'd just laid eyes on what he knew to be the galaxy's most beautiful woman. In fact he was taken back from the jarring about of...love he felt towards her. It truly was love at first sight, which was something he'd never believed in until now. Despite being someone who'd normally feel uneasy with someone revealing their skin even in such small degrees he was completely drawn to her.

Setting his drink back on the counter, not breaking his sight of her all the while, he felt as though he could endlessly be checking her out and her perfect form. Thoughts rushed into his mind as he tried to come up with the best course of action. Obviously he couldn't go wrong with introducing himself, right? Taking a quick look over himself to see if he was presentable he found that he looked fine. Well fine enough for a guy covered head to two in cloth. Since he was sure whoever this woman was, must have high standards.

Confidently walking down the bar some to his new love interest he casually leaned against the bar next to her, peering at her though the lenses over his eyes. Then he spoke. "Hey there, I'm A'Runda, may I have the honor of knowing you name miss?" He simply said, unsure if a woman of her obvious class would even care to interact with someone like him. Despite rather disconnected appearance he may have had being all covered up, he did have a sincere smile behind his wrappings. Since he was so exited to actually be speaking to the woman of his dreams.

 

[Brayden Antares]

Location: Bar
Tags: [member="Alwine Lechner"]
Wearing: XXX
Post: 2

Brayden rolled his eyes slightly at Alwine's query about using his 'title', but a thin smile did linger on his lips. "Brayden will work just fine, Alwine. Probably very little reason for the two of us to continue standing on ceremony." Like Alwine, Brayden had very little exposure to most of the greater galaxy as well. The simple whiskey in his hand was the result of time spent on Spira at the Red Lady. Brayden did not find himself to be an overly big drinker. In fact, he mostly tended to stick to casual, social drinking. Given the reality that he was very rarely social, he just did not drink much. There seemed to be...very little appeal to the Sith.

In response to Alwine's compliment, Brayden actually laughed briefly. "Demon-twin," he repeated with a slight shake of his head. "Have someone rouse you from your sleep by trying to invade your mind and tell me just how pleasant you are to find they did so to ask a favor." With another soft chuckle, Brayden found himself...staring at the woman. Fortunately, the silence did not linger as Alwine offered her drink to him. "I... Yeah sure. Why not." Accepting Alwine's Mead, Brayden offered his own glass to her. "Whiskey. It's not...a traditional drink of my homeworld at all. In fact..."

Brayden stopped himself. Was this the time to tell her the truth about himself? After a very brief mental debate, Brayden decided a version of the truth would be good enough. "In fact I'm not really much of a drinker. I do, however, enjoy the warming sensation whiskey provides. Plus it's much easier to drink casually. Would you like to try it?"

As he waited for Alwine's response, he brought the offered Mead to his lips but paused before drinking. Over the rim of the mug, Brayden smiled and returned Alwine's compliment. "Oh. I'm sure you...don't need me to tell you." His infrequent stares were probably evidence enough. "But you look very nice yourself."

 

[Alwine Daye]

Wearing: dress
Location: by the bar
Tags: [member="Brayden Antares"]

​

"Brayden it is," Alwine replied with a little nod. First name basis, then. It was more than refreshing to stumble into someone who, on her home-planet, would have been considered a Lord, but have him be so… Not-Lord like. Aside for his little demon-tendencies, there was no sense of difference in classes that she could feel, not a natural one and not an externally imposed one. She could easily imagine sitting next to him, or between him and Caid, by a mid-summer's bonfire, without fear of being executed or discovered.

"You are a demon-twin whether roused from sleep or not," came her next response, alongside a friendly expression on her face, "a demon must not necessarily mean a bad thing. On my home planet I was accused of witchcraft and consorting with demons. They nearly killed me for it, when all I was, was simply another Force User. Perhaps I should call you errdegahr rather than Brayden," she laughed.

Drinks were traded, and Alwine was not holding in her hands something that was called Whisey. She had heard the name before, of course, but she had never tasted it, or even seen it. The dark liquid seemed inviting to her for the moment, and she allowed herself to enjoy its aroma, ignoring the fact that it was mingled with Brayden's base scent.

She had just been about to drink it herself, when the compliment came. Chocolate brown eyes looked up again, more than guessing that this referred to the amount of cleavage her dress was showing. But there was no shame or anything wrong with that; there was a reason she had chosen a dress so open, and not for the first time. If she wanted no one to look, she would have worn a closed rain coat.

"Cheers," she smiled, and clinked his glass against hers, taking a big gulp from the whiskey. It certainly hit harder than the mead would have, and Alwine found herself taking half a step back to balance herself. "Oh…" she gasped as the heat coursed through her body, eyes cast down, cheeks turning a deep red.

And when she looked up, she saw Brayden.

"Oh…"

 

[Srina Talon]

​

Location: Expansion Region - Thaere Sector - Thaereian System - Thaere Privo [Confederate Celebration]
Standing With: [member="Adron Malvern"]
Attire: Normal Boring White Ect...
Love Status: Not Yet Love Drunk

---

This was not her idea of fun.

Srina Talon had spent many an evening, making vapid, half-annoyed conversation with any political figure she had been told to seek out. It was always the same. She forced smiles, memorized inane facts, and eventually managed to get a little bit of work done. These gatherings that the Confederacy seemed so fond of usually had a dual purpose. For as hard as they worked, fought, and occasionally bled for their nation—their people deserved to enjoy the spoils of it. Most cultures gave thanks with some sort of gift, a showing of tribute, or celebrations like this.

A lot of people looked down on the custom. Srina understood, to a point, that it mattered to the people. Showing respect when they could, biting a bullet, was the least they could do. At the very least in Thaere Privo she wasn’t on her own. The spectral woman walked alongside [member="Adron Malvern"] with her arm looped neatly through his. With his usual date, [member="Alessandra Creed"], completely indisposed the pair had decided for their own sanity to stick out the pleasantries together. Srina, despite a recent engagement that she had yet to speak of, to anyone, had left [member="Aryn Teth"] on Naboo.

He was a good sport about these things, but even he, with infinite patience for her duties deserved a break from the constant demands of her station.

“I’ve never seen glass like that.”, Srina observed softly, her voice a bare whisper, that Adron would well know to listen closely for. They had an interesting dynamic that others seemed to frequently misunderstand. She was familiar with him, unthinkingly, because they’d entirely transcended most barriers in her mind. Fighting one another in the worst of ways had that effect. She reached for her Master, [member="Darth Metus"], in silence. A warm greeting. “It seems impractical. Breakable.”

Most would see beauty in the stained glass windows that the Queen of Relovian stood before. Srina could only see the tactical disadvantages. It wasn’t made to defend or protect. Only, to please the eye. It would seem to be a strange assessment from a woman who wore several rings, though, the most prominent was new. It held no value in the Force. Not like the others. “Nor have I ever seen so much wine…”

There was a literal fountain of magenta fluid in the center of the hall. She had done a double take when she realized it wasn’t water at all. It didn’t occur to her that wearing white might have been a mistake, and she wore it well, clothed primly in ivory shimmersilk. Translucent fabric hid her bare back from view while elegant embroidery and crystalline beading hid her shoulders. There was not a curve that was hidden, however, she still managed to hide a few weapons. Somewhere. Somehow. Tugging softly on the arm of the companion that walked so easily beside her, ever with a cane, she would bring her focus back around from the festivities of the room. “How are you?”

The gentle question would be a testament toward her friendship with the much taller man. It was a something she infrequently asked. Mostly, because it didn’t register for her to care enough to want to know. “You seem to have recovered well.”, she referenced the ill-fated crash that she had heard about quite some time ago. It had taken place before his call to Exarch.

Things had been a whirlwind since then. At least they had a moment to breathe and catch up.

 

[Daisy Americus]

Location: Entrance​

Dates: [member="Josh DragonsFlame"] & [member="Scherezade deWinter"]​

Wearing: X-O-X-O​

Daisy had started seeing ghosts after Miranda. Real, literal, haunty-haunt, chain-dragging, ghosts. At first she had been able to rationalize it. The planet had been full of cannibals and creature-features that still sent chills down her spine when she thought about it. There was something downright wrong about people eating people. The golden-haired sun-spot had taken a little time off from the Mandalorian Protectors and any kind of Confederate business for a hot minute. Why?

Detox.

Clearly, she had hit her head. That or her psyche was telling her that she’d fought in one too many bloody skirmishes and no amount of stolen chicken-walkers was going to help that. She hadn’t set foot from Haseria in weeks. Her time had been consumed with the mundane. Working at the Sierra Blanca and helping her mother in the clinic was all the R&R she needed. It made her feel peaceful. Grounded. Maybe then all this Forcie-Hocus-Pocus would stop.

Only one thing could have dragged her away from home cooked fritters and sweet tea.

Scherezade, or rather, Madalena Antares.

Looking around at her choice of clothing she realized that she was a little underdressed. Everyone looked so…So posh. It wasn’t the first time or the last that she would probably feel a little out of place at such a fancy event. Were it not for the fact that she could feel her best friend in the Force she would have probably gotten lost. There were people wearing dresses and suits that were probably worth more credits than her entire closet. Seafoam green eyes lingered on some of the more beautiful, shining people, but she never stared too long. Wow. Just, wow.

Somehow she’d missed her friend near to the entrance. Shaking her head, as always, stunned by whatever it was that Madsy chose to wear she came up behind the woman and wrapped a light arm around her waist. “You are a pitcher of somethin’ sweet honey-girl…”, she murmured in greeting, flaxen hair swaying in curling waves, while the scent of vanilla, and sunlight seemed to carry with her. “And ah don’t mean the kind of picture that goes in a frame. Ah’ll have me a glass of that.”

The man with her [[member="Josh DragonsFlame"]] matched. A lot of people at this party seemed to be wearing white. At least, for the most part, she’d almost gotten the memo. They both looked grand. Her gaze fell fully over the man as she half hugged Madalena. “Hey there sugah. Ah’m Daisy.”, she introduced herself with a charming little smile, before she let go of the buxom brunette, so that she could shake his hand. The cheerful Americus was far from impolite.

This whole high-class party was just a bit of a surprise. It wasn’t the usual dive bar, that was for darn sure, and she had yet to adjust to being away from Haseria. It was a culture shock.

“Ah’m sorry if ya’ll were waitin’ on me. Ah got turned around and had to…”, she trailed off apologetically, unsure of Force-related etiquette, “Use a little bit of magic to find you.”

There. Magic. That sounded good. Not at all like she had Force-Stalked Mads. Riiiight.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Wearing: This ittie bittie white dress | Honey Boo Prototype Combat Boots
Wielding: 3 Czerka knives, in the boots.
Location: By the entrance
Tags: [member="Daisy Americus"] [member="Josh DragonsFlame"]

​

"Josh!" Madalena almost squealed as she heard her friend's voice. His arm rested on her shoulder and she turned around, giving him the full bear hug and a wet kiss on the cheek. Once the hug and kiss were over, she spun around herself in front of him, showing the dress off. As far as she knew no one in attendance had seen her in it, and if those girls from that night showed up, they'd probably not remember it any way.

"You're never going to guess who-" she started saying, when another arm went around her. The smell of vanilla hit her before the arm touched her, but she already knew who it was; Daisy.

Another squeal erupted from the Sithling as she turned around and bounce-hugged her fellow Honey Boo, giving her the same treatment Josh had received, wet kiss on the cheek and all.

"I can't believe it!" Madalena's voiced bounced almost as much as she did, "I finally have my two best friends in the same place at the same time and you're both totally conscious and no one is hurt!"

The grin on her face was wide and almost shining.

"Ooh, you're getting used to using the Force!" she exclaimed at Daisy's apology, "finally! I still owe you training sessions, Daisilicious!"

But wait, there was so much happening all at once all of the sudden. "Okay, Daisy, this is Josh, and Josh, this is Daisy!" formal introductions all done, "not sure why you two have never met before, you've both been BFF's for as long as I can remember. WAIT ONE MOMENT!"

Moving fast enough to leave a little cloud behind, Madalena disappeared and then reappeared with three glasses in her hands. Josh and herself were going to be drinking water since both had vowed not to drink for a long time to come, and for Daisy she had that sort of a liquor that places like this called moonshine but everyone knew it was perfectly safe to consume.

"To an awesome party, to awesome friends, and to get ready because Brayden is here tonight too since he came back from the Unknown Territories two year earlier than intended, and I want you guys to meet him, but first, TO US!"

 

[Taramaz Arcturus]

Post: 1
Objective: N/A
Wearing: Boots This
Wielding: DL-44 (In thigh holster)
Theme: Crazy Little Thing Called Love
Drinking: Mandalorian Rum - Spiked.

Taramaz didn't normally attend parties, really not his thing. He was a strike operative, not a diplomat. That however, doesn't mean he can't partake in a drinking and celebrating, only recently he'd escaped from a pleasurable nightmare that he'd been trapped in for months. He'd rescued a Viceroy in the process, and dealt with the reports of a possible escaped CIS project. He'd sliced his way through zombies on Miranda, he'd done alot of things, even, for example, fighting in the Pektrenai arena on Geonosis. He deserved a bit of relaxing time, he was on leave presently. He'd ordered a nice lunch and a drink. Seasoned Bantha Steak, chips, tomato sauce, mashed potatoes.

The food was good, he'd taken a few bites of the steak, eaten a couple chips, taken a fork of mashed potato. It was good, but not as good as homemade food. He looked around, spotting a few familiar faces, though mostly from documents, some he'd managed to encounter on Miranda or on other missions. He gave a short little wave to one of the men in his squad, one of the only ones who had come along to this party, thought not with Taramaz. The man walked over and he and Taramaz engaged in a man hug, short, but effective, they took a seat and started talking, exchanging thoughts of the facility, and how they were treated. Some times they got off better than each other, sometimes it was an equally bad experience. Unfortunately, the squad mate had to move on, as he'd seen a rather nice looking female. Taramaz gave a short chuckle at the remark.

He went back to his meal, cutting up the bantha steak and eating quickly. He noticed a game of Sabaac going and hoped to join in. In nearly no time at all, he'd finished the food and slid his plate and cutlery across the bar along with a small pile of credits. He then looked around, spotting a few more familiar faces, though not friendly ones, and kept his gaze away from them, he spotted a few native flying creatures perched on a wall, preening. He then looked around again, and grabbed his drink, and took a nice, long sip, almost halving the large glass in one swig. His eyes were focused on the skies.

When he looked back down, he saw the figure of a woman he vaguely knew of by documents and rumours, it was a faint recognition, it took him about twenty seconds for it to click. She'd been one of the latest files he'd read. Otherwise he probably wouldn't have noticed her. He then also made the realisation that the woman was [Insert preferred type of walking here. EG: Strutting, gliding.] towards him. [Member=Faye Malvern]

 

[Damsy Callat]

Form: Humanoid​

Wearing: Fish Net (literally); hair​

Status: Normal​

Tag: [member="A'Runda"]​

​

Damsy had barely had a chance to pick up her drink before someone leaned against the counter and a voice called her attention. She looked to her left, convinced that the speaker was addressing her but surprised nonetheless. And, of course, there was no one else behind her, so she looked over to her right and to the man.

The cloth wrappings didn't startle her, in fact, they did something to put her at ease. She cleared her throat, though she knew it wouldn't do anything to chase away the rasp in her throat.

"I'm Damsy," she replied hesitantly, at ease but still unsure what was happening.

Go to the party, Changeling, she said. You'll make friends, she said.

Remembering the urgings of Naroh Se, Damsy put her reservations out of her mind. She needed land-dweller friends outside of Kamino. The party on Thaere Privo seemed to be a good place to start. And, now, an opportunity had dropped into her lap.

She gave a toothless smile. Perhaps ironically, she had a lovely one.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

Wearing: This
Location: Edge of the dancefloor
With: [member="Faye Malvern"] | [member="Taramaz Laurs"]
Post: one

​

Parties, Gerwald felt like he attended more of these than he actually fought for the Confederacy. They like their drink and celebrations, and after the rate of their recent expansion this was a well deserved party. It was a way of life that Gerwald was adjusting to. The warrior from Stewjon had not thought much of the man he was becoming until his sister Alwine had confronted it. Whether she was right or not about his choices, she was right that he was no longer the same person. The thought caused him to sigh, and for the first night since he left Stewjon, he attended the party alone.

His sister was there, but she had suggested he needed to expand his reach and his search for friends, so that was the goal for the night. Gerwald would admit the formality of the party was going to make that difficult. Where Alwine had seemed to embrace the dresses and the lavish evenings, Gerwald much prefered his ragged clothes and the mead overflowing from his mug. A good drinking tune needed to be played, or a ballad sung to honor the fallen over the past many months. This was not an atmosphere Gerwald enjoyed.

He stood in his silver suit at the edge of the dancefloor, a tie not present around his neck. They were suffocating things that choked the breath from his lungs. How any man could stand those things was beyond him, but there were many a man that were wearing them. It was a fashion statement that Gerwald would only make if forced to.

A waitress came by with a tray of something to drink. Alcohol, any alcohol would be exactly what he needed right now. Gerwald was about to take a sip when he caught the sight of a lady in gold across the way. A small smile pulled at his lips as he thought to toast her. Raising his glass, he took a drink of what was in the contents of the glass and looked to the woman once more. His head started to feel a little light, but when shook it off something else was there, and he found himself moving toward the woman.