Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Memorable Auction

Location: Theed, Naboo
Markus' Jedi Robes

"If I have to eat one more cavier....." Makrus furiously tapped his black boot on the floor. "Someone is going to get a stern talking! Namely the manager of the facility."

How long has he been waiting at the Parnelli Museum of Arts for? Oh yes, so he can try to get his hands on the A-Wing which dated back to the Galactic Civil War. Such artifacts were rare now and days. It didn't help that the people running this little auction couldn't even verify who the pilot was. That was a problem, if these people were asking for a forutne and they were most likely going to. Then these fools should've done a more thorough investigation on who this A-Wing pilot is. The price difference would astronomical if it were the ship belonged to a pilot like: Arvel Crynyd than some random guy who no one would care about.

Such lack of scholarship, shoddy research for a credit and now Markus even doubts if this A-Wing was even legitimate. What a bore. "More like," Markus sighed. "A waste of my time."

Kayla Luspark Kayla Luspark
 
Genius, Billionairess, Playgirl, Fighter Pilot


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Location: Parnelli Museum of Arts, Theed, Naboo
Companion: "Vido" V-2 Series "Minimech" Astromech

A pair of blacked-out utility transports proceeded and trailed the repulsor limo. Across from Kayla were pair of young men with functional suits that barely contained their thick necks and V shaped frames. Both were fairly handsome as military-aged males went, were it not for the borderline dour seriousness etched on their faces. Both hand-to-hand experts, and had a rating with anything that fired a projectile or held an edge. "One minute out, ma'am," intoned the slightly older of the two.​
Private security. She tried to keep the annoyed sigh from escaping with a nod. She couldn't begrudge them. She'd seen plenty of the type. She figured they were probably retired G.A. soldiers. They moved like it, with a kind of swagger one really only developed through rigorous training and combat. Though most soldiers didn't look like a thumb. But she supposed the job was to look intimidating.​
When she'd first seen them, she couldn't help but admit a small little animal thrill ran through her but they were just noise.​
The convoy pulled up outside, forming into a classic U shape with the limo at the bottom. Both men stepped out first, eyes scanning the area as the rest of the detail fanned out. "Please wait here, ma'am."​
Kayla rolled her eyes, but the wait was only a matter of seconds. Not great for keeping her exposed. If someone wanted to take a shot, the best target was a stationary one.​
"Okay, we're clear. Ma'am?"​
"It's a gala and auction. Edad, you're being paranoid."​
"Absolutely, ma'am."​
Kayla found a smile spreading across her face then. "Please, I work for a living." You make me sound like my mother.
The detail started to return then. "We'll be back for pickup on your call." kayla nodded. The vehicles pulled away from the museum leaving her alone with her two escorts. "Gentlemen." And with that she was off, heading for the entrance.​
Moments later the woman swept into the main room for the function. Chocolate brown hair gathered at the back, twisting in twisting curls from the back of her head down to her shoulders with a few loose locks spilling down in front, framing her face. Eyes lined in smoke and shadow, lips a classic red. clusters of diamonds dangled from each ear catching the light. Another dazzling array of diamonds, corusca gems, and durindfires lay just below the hollow of her throat over her upper chest. More light caught at her wrists.
She wore a simple but elegant black silk dress, slitted almost to her hip on both sides showing off her rangy stride and strappy heels which did interesting things to her legs. Pausing long enough to take in the room, she tucked one loose lock away out of her face. The other hand held a small clutch. Noting the bar, she made her way over. Once acknowledged she smiled, leaning forward just enough for Markus to see the back of the dress plunged daringly low, enough to let him see the soft play of toned muscles all the way down, just past the dimples of her low back. "Whyrren's Reserve, if you've got it. Neat." A Corellian whiskey. Kind of rare.​
Turning toward the front of the auction house, she sighed, not quite able to keep the annoyance at the curator from buzzing through her once again. She knew more about A-wings than probably anyone in the building. Especially historical ones, like this one was supposed to be.​
"Ma'am."​
The bartender's voice startled her out of her reverie. Turning back she flashed him a dazzling smile. "My apologies," she said as he gestured to the drink she'd requested, now resting next to her elbow.​
"My pleasure. Enjoy. If you need anything further, just ask." Kayla dismissed him with a nod and a significant credit chip for a tip. Even if it wasn't necessary. The auction would have paid for the whole gala anyway. Picking up the glass, she turned back to regard the rest of the room, her back to the counter. Her escorts flanking different points of entry, eyes sweeping sectors but always staying in line of sight and drifting over her.​

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Markus turned to the commotion that was going on in the room. A woman around his age was walking around like she owned the place. She was wearing small black dress plus she was flanked by bodyguards who looked more fearsome than the average High Republic soldier. Markus had to admit the woman looked lovely but then again she did look like a show off. “This is what I love about these get togethers,” Markus said. “We always love to compete on who can make the most fantastic entrance.”

Which is why part of him is seething of the woman stealing his thunder. “Quite a lovely show my dear,” Markus said approaching the woman. “But the fashion show is right next to the palace the more…… civilized people are trying to get a piece of history.”

Kayla Luspark Kayla Luspark
 
Genius, Billionairess, Playgirl, Fighter Pilot


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Kayla heard someone murmuring nearby but ignored it until she felt a presence enter her sphere of responsibility, then the voice. She glanced sidelong at the man who looked more like he should be offering fencing lessons or teaching "defense against the dark arts." Whatever that was.

She inclined her chin a notch, tilting her head. A faint smile tugged at the corners of her dark lips for just a moment. "Why thank you. That's soooo informative." She raised the glass of amber liquid almost as if in toast. "But I'm not lost." She tilted her head toward the main auction area. "There isn't a chuum in there that knows the difference between a NovaDex Event Horizon and a Sundar & Warton Ripstar." She sipped at her whiskey, then paused to make sure she'd gotten the last of the finicky grease out of the subtle patterns of cracks in it, but there seemed to be none she could casually see.

"They might be able to read the brochure but..." She shook her head, then let out a heavy, exasperated sigh. "It's just an object to them." But it wasn't to her.

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Markus' Jedi Robes

Markus could feel shimmers of the Force surrounding this woman. Was she a Jedi? Unlikely, the Force is noticeable but not as strong as Markus'. He wondered if she was even aware of her weak sensitivity. Best not to tell her, Markus didn't want to inflate her giant ego. "Oh," Markus remarked a small part of him curious about what she knew about the event. "So, there are brains beneath vapid beauty that you possess. How adorable."

Pampered princesses like her would always make a mockery over historical artifacts. "Most impressive there my dear," Markus said leaning against the table. "So, do you have a name? Or do I have to play a guessing game?"

Kayla Luspark Kayla Luspark
 
Genius, Billionairess, Playgirl, Fighter Pilot


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Location: Theed, Naboo

Aaaaand she was reminded exactly why she hated this type of 'high society' crowd. Why she pretty much refused to go home. Downing the glass, she turned back to the bar, setting the empty glass down. Catching the bartender's eye she held up a finger. "Reload." He nodded with a knowing smirk.​
Turning back to Markus and his backhanded compliments, she straightened. "Major Kayla Luspark," she supplied. Anyone who knew much of anything would recognize the name Luspark, the founding family and controlling interest of Spark Industries, one of the largest and most successful tech conglomerates. Megacorp was was an understatement by a couple orders of magnitude. The family had shipyards in Corellia, Kuat, and several other places, and the wealth to buy moons and planets.​
The family hailed from Corellia proper, and their wealth extended back almost a thousand years, making their fortune during the age of Palpatine's reign and the shadow of his fall afterward.​
Those more informed on current events might recognize the name and possibly rank, to go with the face. Kayla Luspark was the prodigal daughter of the family and had made the news cycles and one or two documentaries that featured the picturesque pilot. Known for her dedication to military service rather than capitulating to her family's wealth. Even a small scandal with her parents trying to buy out her service contract with the Galactic Alliance Navy, which she vehemently refused to allow, back in her campaign days against the Kastolar Sector Raiders. Though those days might have been overshadowed by the likes of Jedi Knights and Masters such as Jax Thio Jax Thio , Caltin Vanagor Caltin Vanagor , and Desbre Gensan Desbre Gensan .​
The name left her lips with more emphasis on the 'major' portion than perhaps the family name. The only part she expected him to mildly recognize, rank more more than the rest. Service meant more to her than her family's money, though it was still nice to have. In truth she would have been more comfortable in her flight suit, or even uniform. But most here barely respected any uniform. Much less one that wasn't HIgh Republic, regardless whether it was Galactic Alliance or Silver Jedi Concord though the SJC had broken up years ago. She still had the medals and campaign ribbons.​
Instead it was better to wear the uniform these people understood. Money, influence, wealth, power. Opulence. The diamonds were an opening statement and show of force. But classy enough to register as "old money" but as loud as new money at the moment, she was on a warpath for smoething here.​
The bartender sat her glass back down, refilled. "Ma'am."
She flashed him a smile and took another sip of that old Corellian whiskey. A taste of home, more expensive for the little that was left than perhaps for it's quality. Made by a small family distillery, they didn't make copious amounts. Still, the Luspark family got a bottle or two a year, a tradition stretching back centuries, to the days of supporting the Rebel Alliance.​
Lowering her glass, she inclined her chin toward Markus. "And who might you be?"

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Markus' Jedi Robes

A Major? So Kayla is military. Hardly surprising given the name: Luspark has been company providing the High Republic arms that they used to wage war. This trillion-dollar princess has been mooching off the success of her parents but at least she took advantage of the family name and used it to become something of a commanding presence. "Such an accomplishment," Markus chortled. "You have the name backing you and all you can do is Major? How cute."

Markus smiled walking closer to Kayla. "My name is Markus Kortu," he answered. "An esteemed academic who has been cited by thousands of scholars. Also I'm a Jedi Knight who specializes in archelogy and I've discovered many abandoned Jedi temples during my time with the Silvers."

Markus shrugged. "Life is always exciting you were as magnificent as I am." he said. "But no one can ever be me of course."

Kayla Luspark Kayla Luspark
 

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