Night to Remember | CIS Dominion of Stewjon (S,50)

[Ascendant Muse]

S T E W J O N​

As the light of day began to wane, a new sound joined the chorus of evening crickets.

For many moons, this was not the case. The distant world known as Stewjon had forgotten what rest looked like. What Peace felt like. When the Sun made its daily descent beyond the horizon, it was not starlight that took its place. It was Terror. They had used the cover of darkness to shatter the joy of happy homes. Invasions took place on the regular. Innocent lives were snuffed out. Some did it for the coin that could be had in larceny; others did it for the thrill of the kill. But regardless of motivations, the horde of mad men left Stewjon’s populous clinging to their children at night - praying that the savagery would pass them over.

In time, the Lords of the land had enough. They put aside their differences, laid down their axes and spears, and faced the problem together. At first they attempted to confront the darkness with their own strength - but even the greatest armies they could muster fell victim to the Dagger of Night. Their best efforts seemed to be a lost cause. But as time moved ever forward, the nation to the East began to send emissaries to neighboring systems. They preached a gospel of freedom, peace, and prosperity. The Lords saw an opportunity. An accord was struck - purge the mad men of the night in exchange for joining the growing nation.

Shortly thereafter, the Knights Obsidian descended upon the world.

Their Pathfinders stalked the vicious men, turning the hunters into prey.

The Adjudicators brought their faces to the light and rendered judgment before all.

The Executors swung the sword and brought an end to the Long Night.

Now, at the insistence of the people, the Knights were ushered through the streets. The people beat their fists upon their shields and lifted their voices in mighty shouts. Their cheers filled the nighttime air as a cacophony of gratitude. And at the end of the long walk through the city’s cobbled streets was the Longhouse: home to the local Lord. For the whole of the Confederacy had a feast been prepared - to celebrate their entrance into the fold. But most importantly, to honor the Knighthood that so bravely liberated them. Many tables lined the Great Hall and there was food and drink aplenty. Yet before them all was a table adorned in white, reserved for the Knighthood. Songs were played and lyrics were sung. Dancing bodies swayed between the tables.

Truly, this would be a Night to Remember.

Spoiler

[member="Aedan Miles"], [member="Ahani Najwa"], [member="Ailuros"], [member="Aithne Charr"], [member="Akabane"], [member=”Alden Kyr’Nau”], [member="Aleksander Miles"], [member="Alistair Myre"], [member="Alyva Terrix"], [member="Amaya Cardei"], [member="Anastasia Verd"], [member="Anya Malvern"], [member="Aoker Veru"], [member="Aova Nerys"], [member="Arabella Darkhold"], [member="Aria Lyr"], [member="Arlox"], @Averin An’Arach, [member="Aya Clarke"], [member="Asher Mossa"], [member="Aston Jacobs"], [member="B1-990"], [member="B2-D34T7"], [member="Ballen-Ist"], [member="Bulthos Dorrir"], @Bartic Myth’rand, [member="BBZ-20"], [member="Ben Mentel"], [member="BX-22222"], [member="BX-24601"], [member="BX-25233"], [member="BX-72967"], [member="BX-73300"], [member="BX-75244"], [member="Causstik Rahn"], [member="Chalim Vern"], [member="Chek Zun"], [member="Chikako Liona"], [member="Connor Harrison"], [member="Dakita Calfur"], [member="Dalton Kenway"], [member="Damien Van-Derveld"], [member="Darth Atrox"], [member="Darth Illisus"], [member="Darth Inanis"], [member="Darth Malus"], [member="Darth Nius"], [member="Darth Phren"], [member="Darth Rixas"], [member="Darth Seraphic"], [member="Darth Zurvan"], [member="Daxton Bane"], [member="DE-16"], [member="Derek Dib"], [member="Dinah Vekarr"], [member="Drauchir"], [member="Duidatos"], [member="DV8-420"], [member="Eirene"], [member="Ella Nova"], [member="Emberly Carrick"], [member=”Er’in Tenel”], [member="Faa Vera"], [member="Faustina Beryll"], [member="Fidelis"], [member="Galven Hansol"], [member="Gorm"], [member="Ginnie Verd"], [member="Hades Dai"], [member="Hircine"], [member="Hypatia Najwa"], [member="Iris Issey"], @Irys Arist’lar, [member="Ithiel Verd"], [member="Iskander Verd"], [member="Izak Verd"], [member=”J’Raa”], [member="Jack Anderson"], @Jahn Harrington, @Jasmine Zittoun, [member="Jaya Tandris"], [member="Jayce Pryde"], [member="Jennifer Blanchard"], [member="Jia Darkhold"], [member="Jorco Czeku"], [member="Jaron Lesan"], [member="Jerad Lettiere"], @Kaiya Halcyon, [member="Kal Jaii"], [member="Kal Kandossii"], [member="Karlie Lynn Destat"], [member="Kas Varad"], [member="Katria Vekarr"], [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"], [member="Kayla Wylen"], [member="Keric Dynt"], [member="Ket Van-Derveld"], [member="Karlie Lynn Destat"], [member="Kas Varad"], [member="Kip Ridel"], [member="Kyle Ajahn"], [member="Khia Varad"], Kilia, [member="Koda Fett"], [member="Kurayami Bloodborn"], [member="Kurenai Yumi"], [member="Lady Psyona"], Lanna, [member="Lera DeVana"], [member="Lewis"], @Lola An’Arach, @Lord Metallum, [member="Luna Terrik"], [member="Lyla Quinn"], [member="Lera DeVana"], [member="Meira"], [member="Maple Harte"], [member="Marcus Lund"], [member="Marek Starchaser"], [member="Maxerian Gron"], [member="Meira"], [member="Miki Starfallen"], [member="Mira Talus"], [member="Muad Dib"], [member="Mythira"], [member="Nasho Vesh"], [member="Natasha Darkstar"], [member="Nayru Wyndaru"], [member="Nicholas Covosi"], [member="Nilia Saavilin"], [member="Noatyr Moldmerr"], [member="Pitts Carnegue"], [member="Nyx"], [member="One-Eyed Jack Varren"], [member="Orion Trex"], [member="Paige Blossom"], [member="Pitts Carnegue"], [member="Prime"], [member="R4N-JR"], [member="Rale Elysar"], [member="Rapax"], [member="Rashae"], [member="Raziel"], [member="Rex Taff"], [member="Riggs"], [member="Rima Orwray"], [member="Rosaline Rousseau"], [member="Ryker Wylde"], [member="Samantha Jade"], [member="Scherezade deWinter"], [member="Shadar-Pox"], @Sko’saht, [member="Sol Damerin"], [member="Space Prius"], [member="Srina Talon"], [member="Sungie"], [member="Super TD-T47"], [member="Surnin Strenger"], [member="Taran Holt"], [member="Tevro"], [member="Tarssin Destat"], [member="The Fallen"], [member="The Slave"], [member="Titan"], [member="Tmoxin Temi"], [member="Tyrande of Isobe"], [member="Tyris Hayes"], [member="Tytos Ardik"], [member="Valis Marr"], [member="Valjan"] Hon’rey, [member="Verd Skirata"], [member="Veronika Fleischer"], [member="Viktor Hawthorne"], @Vinter Veers, [member=”Vuh’kis”], [member="Vulture 21"], [member="Vyra Silara"], [member="Werah Unon"], [member="Xero Wran"], [member="Yuna Hart"], [member="Zenva Vrotoa"], [member="Zephyr Carrick"], [member="Zesiro"], @Zhorin Cenvax

 

[Ravenfire]

Aaron arrived on planet wearing this. He did this to stand out but to also show off his support for the CIS. He had just joined in as his family would always do eventually. He had restarted the Nimbus Commandos after speaking with [member="Darth Metus"]. Shortly after that he had visited the minister for Science [member="Rex Taff"] for some new weapons and heavy armour for the new commando group. He hoped the old schematics were still in the files for the minister. He didn't like making higher ups work anymore than they had to.

He walked into the hall his sandy blonde hair covering one of his emerald eyes. He looked around looks like he was the first to arrive. Well that worked with his motto anyways 'First in, Last out'. That was the way the commandos would be run. He had thought about number and they need maybe less than fifteen people at any one time. But at least more than 3 people otherwise it would be to small a group. He grabbed a drink for the bar and waited around to see anyone at all.

 

[Anya Malvern]

They fell at her blade, those that dared to cause fear into the innocent. One by one her blade had swung and felled them. Now before her stood a crowd that cheered the knights of obsidian for their deeds, their praise rained upon them, it filled her with a sort of pride as she held her sword at her side.

proud warrior?

The doashin spoke, she couldn't help a smirk. She broke off once they entered the long house to get a drink of something. Making her way to the table she got a glass of something local and downed it

indeed I am, we've done a great deed for these people

She simply heard him laugh, she turned to simply listen to the music and cheers, truely this was a wonderful moment. These people now had a protector, and those savages would not harm another

 

[Anya Malvern]

Ignore

 

[Ak'lya]

When the wars were done and the fight finished, there was always a silence. A quiet reflection and a held breath. She had enjoyed that more times than she wished to, the simply joy of surviving another conflict. Today, she hadn't.

The woman had arrived to a torn field, a world ruined and ravaged by invaders. She had done nothing in the fight, Vitae Industries had more important work. Healing.

Natasha was no doctor. Neither was Strask. But they could bring supplies, and more importantly, doctors. It wasn't much. It wouldn't save the world. It wouldn't stop the attacks. But it had saved lives.

And that was enough.

A small smile crossed her face as she walked into the Great Hall. She'd done her work, same as the knights. But she simply sat next to a woman she had spent the last week talking with. The local smiled at her, the look almost forced.

"Did you do it?" Soft words as she sat, metallic eyes scanning the other woman. Hands wrung under the table, her gaze averted. her shoulders hunched forward. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't press."

"...Yes." The word was barely spoken, hesitant to even escape her. A calm hand found the woman's shoulder. "He'll be here tonight."

"If he tries anything, Amber, I'll be here." They were quiet, and after a moment, Amber forced another smile. Quiet again.

You and your bleeding heart.

Well, save for the A.I. in her head.

[member="Aaron Stratus"] [member="Anya Malvern"]

 

[Jasmine Zittoun]

Jasmine walked solemnly with her two droid escort, trying to hide the fact she did not want to come here. To her, this was a barbaric place, only recently cleansed by the wizards and warriors that the Confederacy harbored called Force Orders. She had only attended due to her position as a viceroy, and recognizing the opportunity for Jamoura to help bring this backwards planet to modernity. Jasmine was disgusted by the planet nature of war and destruction, regressing itself in social and technological advancements. But she did not fail to see the economic gains that could be made, and so she was present, wearing a mess of robes over an untidy, and ill-fighting suit. Jasmine did not have full access of her wardrobe upon her arrival, and simply took what she had and hoped for the best. However she pinned several pieces of Confederate regalia to hopefully distract any onlookers(If any, this crowd did not seem the type to criticize upper class dress) from her mess of an outfit.

Jasmine waited before sitting down, looking around for a familiar face, or at least a Confederate official she could discuss with. Although she wanted to start the process of bringing up Stewjon to the technological speed of the rest of the Confederacy, she didn't exactly know where to start.

 

[Jorco Czeku]

Jorco made his way into the great hall. Wearing his his typical high class wear. A pinstripe suit with a red flower lapel. Looking like he did in the viceroy meeting, much like some stereotypical mob boss. He thought of his leadership position with the Rodian Mafia as on open secret with others in the confederacy. However, he did wish that POM Security could have been commissioned to help deal with the conflict on this planet. Nothing like a little war profiteering to fill ones pockets. Nonetheless he wouldn't dare miss a potential party.

He was a little worried though. Given that he seemed to be the only alien here. He wasn't sure on the customs of the planet or if xenophobia was high here. But if there were complications he wouldn't really mind prematurely leaving the scene. But he'd still like to be here. He'd love to be able to experience such a primitive culture in the works as an outsider. Who wouldn't want to?

 

[Tha'ga Temi]

With its verdant grass and tall willowy reeds, the plains of Stewjon seemed to ramble on for miles. The planet, on the fringe of Confederacy territory, lacked the sheer beauty and majesty of Hapes, but for the Hapan politician it did have its gentle, mundane splendor.

She’d arrived after the fray had been quelled. Her strained nerves had just been starting to smooth out after the strange series of terrorist attacks on Hapes - honestly it was hard to imagine who would want to meddle with the peaceful Consortium. Contrary to her wealthy upbringing, she’d landed in a normal passenger liner, no frills even. Tha’ga enjoyed people watching and getting out of her own skin at times. Alone she could pretend she was a tourist or an explorer, not the bureaucrat that she currently was. But you love your job, Tha'ga, she told herself, but truthfully she wasn’t feeling it lately, a rum cocktail with an inordinate amount of ice sloshing around in her hand in agreement with this sentiment.

Today she paid for the overindulgence with the penance of a small migraine and a heavy, tired feeling in her limbs. Tha’ga arrived wearing a Hapan designed gown, but feeling as though she should have dressed a bit more… medieval. Were the guests eating fried turkey legs? Swords and maces abounded transporting her to a more quaint time and place, the kind that would be acted out during the Ren Faire in Ta'a Chume'Dan, where men in costume of Lorrell Raiders fought with long swords and chased around beautiful women.

But Tmoxin wanted her to meet the fine contingency that made up the Confederacy, a Viceroy or perhaps one of the Knights themselves, so she showed up dutifully on the suggestion of her sister who still managed to convince her that every action, no matter how small would have great benefit for the Temi family and for Hapes itself.

​

Post 1 | [member="Connor Harrison"]​

 

[Asher Mossa]

This was a night to remember. The spirits were appeased which meant the spirits would be opposed. Asher was among those who came out to celebrate. His cup would be full and anyone who dared try would find he could drink near any size man under the table. It wasn’t because he was a heavyweight, but because he had drunk enough in an attempt to forget his curse. Despite his own, this was a reason to celebrate for the curse of this place had been lifted.

Asher was dressed for the occasion. It wasn’t too fancy, but it wasn’t too cheap either. Asher never believed in being over dressed, and it was the clothes of a warrior he wore. Yes it was nice and unused for that purpose, but he was here to drink.

The last celebration had not gone as planned, though because of it the man had an unexpected meeting. The day was seared into his mind as he found himself playing the role of a decoy. Being a Jedi with a handmaiden had served enough as a decoy the queen had gotten away safely. Asher wondered what happened to the handmaiden. While he had been off serving the Mandagora, Asher had always wondered what happened after that day.

For now, he found his hand around a glass of mead, and had his lips on the bottle. He was going to be well drunk tonight. It was a night to celebrate, and a night to forget. They would celebrate the freedom of this world, and Asher would drink to forget his curse. Lylek was always watching him, and he knew it. There was a reason for it, but Asher hadn’t figured out. Why he was under the microscope of the spirit was beyond the Mandagora, but Asher didn’t mind. Perhaps there was a greater purpose for him than just the curse.

Post 1​

 

[Malok]

The Celebration reminded him of home.

Darth Metus walked in the wake of the men and women of Valor. While his mantle as Vicelord saw that the Knights Obsidian were under his direct authority, he took no credit for their heroism. He had only authorized the operations that saw Stewjon liberated from their plight - a simple stroke of the pen. It was the Pathfinders, Adjudicators, and Executors who were deserving of all the praise; and for that reason did he humbly follow after his warriors. In truth, he could not have been more proud. Ever since Haseria, there was a nugget of doubt about what the future would look like for the Confederacy. A nugget of doubt in his ability to keep the abyss at bay.

But seeing these warriors fight for more than an alignment in the Force? Seeing the joy plastered across the sea of faces? The embers of hope began to flicker in the Sith’s soul.

In time, the procession breached the doors of the Lord’s home; and straightway Darth Metus’ nostrils were assailed by a myriad of aromas. Spices. Meats. Beer. To say that his mouth was immediately watering was the understatement of the century. Fortunately, given the nature of the celebration, Darth Metus was not dressed - nor prepared to act - in a formal manner. Instead, he wore a crimson poncho wrapped about his torso; one which obscured his blast vest from view. A pair of grey, combat trousers occupied his legs while his typical boots rounded out the ensemble. This time, the Sith did not force his attire choice upon those whom directly accompanied him. Instead, they were free to dress as comfortably as they so elected.

Particularly, [member="Srina Talon"], [member="Izak Verd"], [member="Hadashah Verd"], and [member="Anastasia Verd"] would have been within arm’s reach of the Vicelord at any time. Furthermore, a relatively new addition to his life: the fiery-tongued [member="Eladia Laux"] would have been striding alongside them. For the Verd/Talon ensemble, the new addition would have been a surprise; for her “recruitment” on Ryloth had been rather unconventional. Though Darth Metus certainly did not believe that was the word the woman would use for the encounter. Regardless, as one group they would enter the Hall; but upon entering they would be free to enjoy the feast as they so chose.

As for the Sith, he chose the way of his people. The way that he had so ached for months now. ”Srina,” he began, gingerly brushing his fingertips upon his Apprentice’s arm. ”for once, I’m going to have some fun. Join me?” His smile took on an ever so slightly edge of mischief before he navigated to one of the closer tables. With his arms, he enthusiastically motioned for his kin and allies to join him. A tankard was slammed in front of him by one of the wandering attendants - its contents were clearly ale based on scent alone.

”Alright maggots, it’s time. How we do it on Mandalore is simple. You tell your best story, and then we drink. Your greatest triumph. Your boldest victory. Any by night’s end, if we remember our names, clearly we aren’t warriors. Who’s going first?!”

Metus didn’t even have to look to know Srina was sighing.

But he had some inkling that his children and Edalia might be game for such an adventure.

[member="Asher Mossa"], [member="Tha'ga Temi"], [member="Jorco Czeku"], @Jasmine Zittoun, [member="Aaron Stratus"], [member="Anya Malvern"], [member="Natasha Darkstar"]

 

[Eladia Laux]

Admittedly, she was out of her element.

Stewjon was one of many planets Eladia never had the luxury of visiting; although she'd never really planned on it in the first place. To her, this was just another lackadaisical locale. However, of course an exception had been made to please her new master. This place clearly held some sort meaning to him, and those in attendance likely shared at least some alliance. So, Eladia was offered a rare opportunity. Tonight was a night to impress - and more importantly, gather information and intelligence about the confederacy. Learn who her new allies were, truly.

She entered the Great Hall with steady, prideful strides; following closely beside Verd family and company. While they lacked a dress code, Eladia herself wore her finest white gown, doing her best to appear elegant and refined. After closer examination, though, that seemed to be a common element among women. All adorning their most beautiful apparel, while the men looked as if they'd just staggered in off the battlefield. Despite this, there was a certain, welcoming aura to this place. The sounds of polite conversation, the already-drunken laughing in the background; even the dull scent of meats and ale - it reminded her of home. The nostalgia of late nights with her captain and crew.

But, every person here was a stranger to her, a fact she couldn't forget.

Eventually, she would find herself standing near to Metus's chosen table, barely paying attention as he drew the attention of the attendants. Now was a time to watch, to learn- and perhaps, even spread the Laux name.

 

[Srina Talon]

Location: Stewjon [The Longhouse]
Wearing: This
Drunk Status: Stone Cold Sober

The young Echani had never been on a Confederate assignment in which the local population had exploded with such genuine joy at their presence. Typically, she was used to erring on the side of caution, while playing a crafty game of avoidance and omission. The member worlds they assisted or acquired weren’t always forthcoming about their needs. Secundus Ando was a perfect example, in which the majority of the CIS present had been duped, and trapped. Granted, it was less [or more] sinister than it sounded—But it led her to operate with a sense of care.

With that in mind, the small apprentice followed at the side of her Master to the Longhouse, a ghostly specter among far more jovial patrons. When compared to the naturally dark complexion of all of his offspring she stuck out like a sore thumb. Were it entirely up to her, she would never have changed from her scarlet armor, but the two hour time limit had recalled it long ago. Srina had not expected a celebration. As such, she was dressed in what she had worn before. Her slender torso remained bound rather stoically in a black textured corset with long white hair braided back in a series of twining plaits. Some of it fell loose from the fight, glimmering dimly, but the rest seemed to stay where it should have.

Her legs were wrapped in dark protective leathers that tucked seamlessly into a pair of boots that stopped just above the knee. It seemed that most of the guests were wearing their finest, or at least, what they had access to on a backwater world. Srina took the moment to enjoy not being dressed like a gilded doll by the Vicelord’s attendant droids. Though, she feared her lack of finesse would break their little robot hearts. No doubt she would pay for it later.

The seemingly ethereal woman wore her lightsaber on a holster than ran flush along the outside of her thigh, however, she had left her hand cannon and daggers behind on the Ferocity. She still had backup weaponry, in the form of the thin silver rings on either hand, but she hoped not to need them. Most mistook their purpose entirely, believing her married, or simply seeing an accessory.

Already pale by birth, she seemed nearly translucent by wearing such dark clothing, but the dimness of the Longhouse helped. She was keenly aware of new faces. Echani eyes missed nothing and her Force Bond to [member="Darth Metus"] did not allow her the privilege of pretending not to know whom [member="Eladia Laux"] was. Her new sister-apprentice may not have known her, but what their Master knew, Srina knew. They had not yet had the chance to speak formally, but perhaps tonight, that would change.

She paused in moving when the much taller man brushed her arm, barely seeming to breathe, let alone exist. Everything about her seemed impossibly peaceful. Still. Darth Metus smiled, the ill-behaved quality of it one that she knew only too well, and she inclined her head slowly. “If you wish it, my Master.”

The truth of what she had agreed to was much different than it sounded. She would remain at the party, likely nearby, while HE had fun. The Echani did not imbibe liquor in excess and in general refused any that dulled her senses. She was what some would call a ‘buzz kill’ but she would do her best not to ruin the celebratory party for those who deserved it. The Knights Obsidian had performed far better than she had expected, and if anything, deserved a moment to relish in one of their first fully realized victories.

There was no smug Sith-Lord-brat to darken their doorway. Not today.

Srina took a seat next to Darth Metus while he slammed a tankard full of something horrid on the table, a vision of wordless beauty, while he rallied the troops for a drinking game. The Confederacy would likely join in, sensing the infectious enthusiasm of their leader, while she would remain as she was. Though, as her Master predicted, she did sigh internally at his reference to calling them all maggots.

‘I most certainly am not.’, the ever proper Echani spoke mentally to Darth Metus, stone-faced, despite the fact that he would feel the tiniest amount of humor. As cold as she seemed, a personality as wide as the galaxy could be found within her, if, the appropriate party knew where and how to look.

At the moment she simply hoped they didn’t get the call for war the next day. The whole of the CIS was going to be so, so very, very ill the next day. At that point, they’d probably just lay down, and let the Empire roll over them just to avoid a migraine and the light of day.

Someone set down a drink in front of her and silver eyes flickered, before she picked it up, and set it down promptly before her Master. Just because it was in a nice glass didn’t mean she was going to start throwing spirits back like she hadn’t a clue what it was. Nice try, not a chance.

“Don’t let me stop you, Isley. Your game, your story.”, she murmured, before turning her focus to the assembled crowd, to promptly throw Darth Metus under the proverbial star destroyer. Her voice would be heard, somehow above the white noise of the establishment, crystalline and clear. ”I say the Vicelord goes first. Who else wants to hear?”

​

Tags: [member="Eladia Laux"] | [member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Asher Mossa"] | [member="Tha'ga Temi"] | [member="Jorco Czeku"] | [member="Jasmine Zittoun"] | [member="Natasha Darkstar"] |[member="Anya Malvern"] | [member="Aaron Stratus"] |​

 

[Connor Harrison]

While Connor wasn’t known for the big social scene, he had seen his fair share of them from one end of the galaxy to another. From outdoor festivals and carnivals, to glamorous masked balls and even underground dance halls, this was only the second time in his years that he had seen one that belonged in another time.

First it was on Midvinter, in the company of the Valkyri Heavenshields. Loud patrons, swelling music – not to mention bosoms in those ridiculous corsets – flowing mead, roasted meat and fresh fruits and a gathering that seemed to be almost to be as one with the world around them. Connor hadn’t seen anything like it, and assumed it was only for those of a certain lineage.

He was wrong.

Standing in the Stewjon hall with the Confederacy and natives of the planet, it was like Midvinter all over again. Just wheel out Coci and Thurion in their finest garb and it’d be spooky. The hall was alive with sights, sounds and smells. Confederacy types mixed with natives, regaling stories and tall-tales and how victories had been won for them all. It was certainly an eye-opener.

Connor walked along the stone slowly in his navy blue and crimson attire, keeping himself to himself, nodding this way and that, smiling to those who caught his eye. There were a few who looked a little out of place, one who was stood to the side looking on in a mix of shock and disgust. It made Connor smile and shouted a little over the noise.

”All a little bit…barbaric, wouldn’t you say? Certainly not the sort of getherings I’m used to!”

[member="Tha'ga Temi"]

 

[Katrine Van-Derveld]

Objective: Something, something, someone said drinking contest somewhere
Wearing: This... someone's gonna have to explain the armor business to Kat
Post: One

"So, we're here for what exactly?" Katrine wondered out loud as she passed by someone through the street. It was her understanding the Knights Obsidian pretty much handled the whole situation the planet had overnight and they were here to drink? The blonde had yet to refuse a drink, to be perfectly honest. There were so many tastes she had yet to try.

Up ahead, she could see the back of her Uncle Isley surrounded by his brood and Srina, making her look around herself wondering if her own pack was around. Seemed like today she was on her own. Which reminded her, Ram was gonna get a big shoulder punch next time she saw him. That jerk of a twin vanished again on her after barely spending any time with her that he was gonna hear her. It wasn't a good idea they were wandering off too much and intercepting their parents' or family's pasts as it was. Mandragora seemed far more reasonable of a choice for her.

Not to mention she'd been slightly on edge after the events on Relovian, knowing for sure she'd sensed her little brother and not finding him, following by the horrific experience over on Zolan she still didn't have words to explain fully. Pain and death worked best but they were so vague.

For a moment, the Lupine considered joining her Uncle but from the looks of it, he seemed to be heavily engaged with the company he was in that Katrine intended on finding herself someone else to talk to. That was when the blonde had spotted [member="Asher Mossa"], drinking from a bottle. He drinks alone, Lylek pointed out as she moved towards him, understanding what the spirit wanted of her. "Hi. Whatcha drinking?" She asked as she joined him. Though the spirit already knew plenty about the man, he wanted Katrine to as well. They didn't serve information on a platter, no, she had to get to know someone they had their eye on by herself.

 

[Asher Mossa]

He drank alone. It was his way. Even with the crowd surrounding [member="Darth Metus"], Asher still found company with his thoughts and the glass bottle of mead which he had in his hand. Isley boasted of how Mandalorians would drink, and Asher only smirked. Just because Asher was alone did not mean he was not paying attention to what was surrounding him. Something could happen, anything could happen. Even at the last world where they had planned a celebration. Asher had let his guard down for one moment and all hell had broken loose. He would beat it, this curse of his. The CIS was stronger than it, wasn't it.

Asher could feel eyes on him. Lylek was watching, but so was the Nightmother. He looked up to find her radient blue eyes looking at him as she walked toward his table. She sat down. Asher didn't ask, but was there a choice. She was the Nightmother and would do as she wanted. That much was clear. He had heard stories of how the woman among the witches of Dathomir would take what they wanted whenever they wanted it. Were those among the Mandagora the same?

"Mead," he answered as he grabbed an empty goblet and poured some from the bottle he had been drinking from. He stopped when it was half full and pushed it over to the blonde. "Try it. It's sweet, like honey." Asher wasn't drunk yet, which meant he was still polite. Once he was drunk, he would be whichever of his nightmares or fleshly desires won out in the moment. It was no way to be, but the man drank to forget many times. The damned curse which had followed him since a child never let him forget though. Neither did the ring he wore around the chain on his neck.

"And what brings you all the way out here... spying out the work of the Knights Obsidain?"

Asher sat the glass bottle down and looked at her with curiosity in his eyes. He knew she had chosen to sit with him, it was obvious when one was sitting alone. Anyone that sat down had made a choice to ensure the loner was not alone. He smirked knowing that he knew, and could guess that she knew that he did. Observation was a skill of Asher's. He had remained hidden from the world long enough to know how to stay that way and watch. That was another reason Asher drank alone. He was watching the people.

[member="Katrine Van-Derveld"]​

Post 2​

 

[Anastasia Verd]

Objective: Playing Drinking Games
Wearing: This
Post: Two

Yesterday, the Executors had instilled justice. Anastasia still had trouble with the word justice. The monster thought all she did in service of the original Empire had been done in the name of justice, she had believed everytime she had slight throats or stabbed chest, it was simply put - justice. Anastasia doubted this. Why wasn't it murder? To be fair, a lot of things were still confusing to Anastasia Verd. She'd only been truly alive for less than two months. Alive, free, there were probably a lot of ways to interpret just what she'd been. Physically, she'd been alive for over ten years now but she had no control over any of that time, not until that crystal on Haseria had yanked the monster from inside her, setting Anastasia free.

Today, Stewjon was celebrating their new freedom. And this celebration included a special affair in something called the Longhouse.

Dad had begun talking, calling them maggots as he did, explaining how things were done on Mandalore. Anastasia said nothing but recently, she had begun researching on it. They were Mandalorins, the girl understood this, even if she didn't fully understand what that even meant. The monster referred to them as bounty hunters and mercenaries, useful for a payment but had no other thoughts of them, so Ana had begun her own studies since clearly, there were facts she needed to know. They were not just Mandalorians, they were Mando'ade or Children of Mandalore. Anastasia wondered about it since she was the child of Isley Verd and Phoebe Draclau. More than that, she struggled with the Resol'nare. Reasons were simple enough. She didn't wear the armor, she didn't speak the language, she wasn't truly raised as a Mandalorians, she didn't contribute to the clan's welfare and she had never responded to call of any Mand'alor. There was, however, one of the Six Actions Anastasia knew for sure she followed. When put in a position, she defended her family. When the child had stabbed Dad, she hadn't even been able to think clearly as she began to choke her through the Force. Anastasia knew very little of life on her own yet she knew that her parents had been at her side when she was younger, she remembered her siblings and her aunt. Somehow, even with the monster suppressing her for so long, Anastasia Verd understood the meaning of family. Strange, how she had managed to comprehend that despite being confused about a great many things.

You tell your best story, and then we drink. Anastasia stared at her Father. Your greatest triumph. Your boldest victory. She continued to stare as he continued to explain the rules of the game. And they weren't warriors if they could remember their own names by the end of the night. I suddenly feel like I belong at the children's table, she thought to herself as she looked around them. No, no children's table, it seemed. Her eyes wandered to Srina as she suggested her Father start. "Yes," she released a quiet sound from her mouth, barely audible as she agreed with the woman she had mixed thoughts about. I'm not going second, Anastasia decided a moment later.

[member="Darth Metus"] [member="Srina Talon"] [member="Izak Verd"] [member="Hadashah Verd"]​

 

[Katrine Van-Derveld]

Objective: Trying Mead and Torturing Getting to Know [member="Asher Mossa"]
Wearing: This
Post: Three

Mead. Katrine perked up, watching him pour her into a goblet halfway through before he pushed it over. Sweet like honey. "Pila'mita," Katrine responded without thinking as she reached for the goblet, smelling it before she'd taken a sip. Definitely sweet, definitely like honey.

The Lupine didn't know if she liked alcohol that was so sweet but she still kept drinking it as Asher asked his question. Katrine didn't respond right away though, drinking up the entire glass before she'd finally put it down. "More, please," she told him. Maybe she did like it. Who knew?

Asher asked about why she was here and if she was spying out the work of the Knights Obsidian. "Yes," the blonde answered flat out and grinned. She really didn't know how to lie. "No, I'm here because the Nightmother of Mandragora should never be too far when another planet is coming under the protection of the Confederacy," Katrine told him. There wasn't much to it. Sure, sometimes it was fun going but now, the Witch had responsibilities. She wasn't just another Witch, Lupine, girl, Vicelord's niece, daughter of the former Ryloth Viceroy, heiress of House Van-Derveld, descendant of the banished Jart Shaman or an outcast in line for the Singing Mountain Clan Mother position... nope, she was the Nightmother of the Mandragora, a role she was born for and she had to pass numerous trials and challenges, ascend and be claimed by the Spirits... basically, it was a lot of work and it was far from over.

Ask him about his curse, Lylek whispered against her ear, her head turning as she listened. "Okay, I'll ask," Katrine responded before she looked back at Asher. "Lylek says I should ask you about your curse. What's the deal with your curse?" There was no joke in her tone, it was rather dead serious right now. Katrine didn't think curses were a joking matter at all. In the mist of all the voices on the day of ascension, she had heard the spirits mention the word but it had been such a filled day that she hadn't had time to dwell on a singular word then. Now though, the spirit had provided an important clue as to whom it pertained to. She was very curious now.

Spoiler

My thanks.

 

[Riggs]

Blood stained clothes, a crimson flood washed away the stain that had darkened the planet, horrors and atrocities of war, innocence lost.

And so it ever was. The Knights Obsidian had claimed a planet through the might of their arm, their tenacity of spirit, their belief. The Order had united under the call of their ViceLord and the great commission of the Confederacy to free the planet. And free them they did. Battle washed away the chains of yesterday. But the chains of tomorrow had yet to sink in.

Sitting in the great hall, his jacket pay across the back of his chair. Splattered blood had dried to a black crust, a spattering that could easily be misconstrued as a design. But it was merely the design of death. A fresh linen bandage was wrapped around his left arm as he nursed a mug of ale and listened to the raucous laughter of knights, the gentle tones of the more civilized, and the silent reverie of the ones in introspection.

Taking another drink he grimaced lightly. He was neither one of the Obsidian, nor the Mandragora, nor the Viceroyalty. He was a mercenary. He earned his place and his credits by his skill. He didn't claim a place with title, name, or blood. Idly he scratched his cheek, a scratch from the battle irritating the flesh of his face. There battle was over but regardless he watched warily observing those who claimed a place in the aforementioned.

Most eye of those in the hall turned as the ViceLord entered. He was no different. As he took his seat with his entourage he smirked lightly. Isley with his children and apprentices. A bemused grin crossed his face as they sat at the table he was currently perched at. The drinking game optioned by the ViceLord reminded him of his youth. Many times he had joined on similar tales. Srina, the one many called the Dread Queen, declined her drink. The twins of Isley near their father caused a pang in his chest of his own brother. Gideon had once been a great warrior before his injury. Even now and at this great distance he could feel a vague sense of Gideon. He was happy with whatever he was doing.

Shrugging lightly he leaned back to listen to the first round of stories.

[member="Srina Talon"], [member="Izak Verd"], [member="Hadashah Verd"], [member="Anastasia Verd"] , [member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Ravenfire]

Aaron would approach [member="Jorco Czeku"]. The rodian looked like a crime boss. Aaron smirked his emerald eyes had been scanning the area for any threats to the party. None militarily but socially [member="Jasmine Zittoun "]with her two droids looked like she was waiting for some official to arrive. Well I hope she doesn't sink the conversations. He would allow his hair to continue hiding his left eye. He smiled as he apporached.

"Greets friend. My name is Aaron and I am new to the CIS would you be able to introduce me to people please." He already knew [member="Darth Metus"] and his daughter [member="Anastasia Verd"] as well as his apprentice [member="Srina Talon"]. But he didn't know who anyone else was and really did need to be introduced to them. He would grab another drink while he was at it. He hadn't actually finished his last one but anyone watching him wouldn't know that.

 

[Tha'ga Temi]

At least Tha’ga wasn’t alone in her assessment. Yet the surroundings did not seem so familiar. She picked up the hem of her gown to avoid a large puddle of ale and mused on how fairy tale it seemed. Or like a play in a theater, and the red curtain would suddenly close with actors coming out for their standing ovations.

A tall man mentioned similar sentiments, though the Hapan politician would have been appalled to know that the confusion - and maybe even a hint of aversion - lingered upon her delicate features.

“Is it that obvious?” she said with a musical laugh, assuming it wasn’t. Her brown eyes glanced downward for a moment and then back up - way up, by the Core, he was towering. “Same.” She breathed out through her nose for a moment, a lively sound like a filly might make. In truth, it was nerves. Tha’ga you must be the most nervous Hapan in the entire Cluster, if not in the galaxy. Yet it was little wonder with all that she’d been through in the past few weeks.

“Do your colors have significance?” she asked, noting his crimson and dark blue attire. A beer wench came by offering a mug of smoky ale, but Tha’ga declined it with a graceful gesture.

Post 2 | [member="Connor Harrison"]​