Of Fallen Stars | The Confederacy

[Ascendant Muse]

S T A R F A L L​

F E S T I V A L​

Artemesia, Savior of Nivek.​

Long ago…

Whilst the Four Hundred Year Darkness yet blanketed the Galaxy, there existed a spark of light in a bleak place. The distant world of Nivek had been relatively forgotten by the international community; and when the Gulag Plague struck, they themselves were alone to face it. For a time, it seemed that the world dominated by huntsmen would survive through sheer grit and determination...yet the Plague slowly seeped into the bones of their finest. Some believed that, maybe, offworld pleas for aide had been responsible for bringing the damnation back to them in force. But, in truth, it mattered not how the Plague came to fall upon their lives. What mattered was finding a way to survive. For many months, the finest and boldest of the Nivek natives began to die off - as did the game that the people typically hunted. Fear abounded that extinction was nigh.

Until a starship careened hopelessly off course and made its final stop upon the troubled planet. According to the accounts which became legend, the one who emerged from the vessel was lost...but rose to become their Savior. A woman by the name of Artemesia took pity upon the struggling population and began to show them new ways to survive the long night. She gathered together the young and taught them how to cultivate the land in creative, sustainable ways. She gathered together the surviving hunters and showed them how to track and adapt new food sources into their hunts. She gathered together the elders and showed them how to make those affected by the plague truly comfortable in their last days. Artemesia was a woman of immense kindness, but even greater prowess. In the eyes of the Nivek Shadowmen, she was a gift from the heavens themselves.

Yet, her story came to the same end as those who she worked so tirelessly to aid. In time, she succumbed to the last vestiges of the Plague which ran through the Nivek population. Her passing broke the soul of the people; but they would always remember. This day, centuries following her timely arrival upon the distant world, the natives of the present gathered together to undertake their great tradition. In honor of Artemesia, a festival was held annually to serve as a reminder and homage to the woman who had saved their species. What's more, it was a time of joy and thanksgiving for yet another year of survival upon the homeworld.

For quite some time, Nivek had been a relatively quiet member of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. The planet was situated within the core of the southern community, and as a result their interactions with the nation proper were kind and prosperous. This year, as a sign of national esteem, the natives opened their tradition to their neighbors. For the first time in literal centuries, outsiders would be permitted to indulge in the Starfall Festival. And, after so long spent fighting on various battlefields, there were many within the Confederacy who happily descended upon the quiet world to partake! What they would find, upon disembarking, was a world known for being under the cover of darkness at all times. Nivek was a planet of perpetual night - with the sole lights above being those of the twinkling stars.

Despite this, the natives managed to instill a sense of vibrancy into their capital city. At a glance, the city did not feature the same industrial or metropolitan air of her contemporaries. Rather, its architecture revolved around the stone found naturally throughout their world. Towering pillars were the mainstay of each building, bearing the weight of carefully carved ceilings and roofs. Overall, each building seemed rather open and rarely featured walls in the traditional sense - but this was a testament to the character of Nivek. For her peoples were so closeknit that they rarely had need of closing one another off. Additionally, breathtaking statues dotted the cobbled streets; with many bearing in their hands brilliant lanterns that added to the street lights. As a whole, Nivek was unlike any other Confederate world - just as her Starfall Festival was unlike any other gathering!

Spoiler: Points of Interest

Artemesia was a lover of the Hunt, but also of stringed instruments and song. A lover of Prowess, but also of fine drink and childrens' sweets. A lover of Nivek and all those who resided there. This festival will honor and remember the woman who saved Nivek from its darkest hour.​

F O U N T A I N S​

The citizenry of Nivek fondly recall their Savior's fondness for all things instrumental. Therefore, the centerpiece of the Festival takes place in the heart of the city. A monumental labor of love has been carved into the walls of the city's downtown plaza, forming dazzling fountains for a solid block. It is here that the nighttime air is filled with, above all, music. Live performers can be found at nearly every corner, playing sweet tunes in homage to the fallen hero. What's more, a thicket of swaying bodies twirl and dance before the fountains to their hearts' content. While music is certainly the focus of this location, a number of shops and stalls have opened well into the evening for the event. Here, one can find trinkets, jewels, and other baubles to commemorate their visit to Nivek.

L Y C E U M​

While typically devoted to the discussion of matters pertaining to the city, the Lyceum is a vast, open building whose southernmost wall contributes to the Fountains. Here, the sound of music is dwarfed by the cacophony of feasting voices. Droids and natives alike navigate a mass of bed-like seats, where patrons can recline and enjoy being catered hand and foot. WInes, liquors, and other strong beverages are never out of reach; and neither is good company and good conversation!

G A R D E N S​

Whilst dancing the night away or indulging in good company are indeed wonderful, there are some who find the appeal in the quieter things. In fact, Artemesia herself was known to depart from the bustling city in favor of secluded gardens. In her memory have those very same gardens been maintained and decorated for the night's events. Soft lighting can be found strung along the towering hedges, casting a pale glow upon the marble statuettes and seating scattered about. Here, beneath the stars, one can indulge in peace, relative quiet, and perhaps even the company of those who matter the most.

Spoiler: Tag

[member=A'Runda]
[member="Akabane"]
[member="Alden Akaran"]
[member="Alkor Centaris"]
[member="Alora Fae"]
[member="Alwine Lechner"]
[member="Amarant deWinter"]
[member="Amaya Cardei"]
[member="Amelia von Sorenn"]
[member="Amethyst Atreides"]
[member="Amethyst Sovereign"]
[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"]
@Braan Kell
[member="Bandit Six"]
[member="Caesar Kenway"]
[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 Timorem"]
[member="Darth Novus"]
[member="Daxton Bane"]
[member="Dhakarta"]
[member="Dianah Vi'Dreya"]
[member="Drauchir"]
[member="Ecthelion Aiglos"]
[member="Efried Halbrecht"]
[member="Ella Nova"]
[member="Erin Tenel"]
[member="Fawn Alzi"]
[member="Gerwald Lechner"]
[member="Gray Venasir"]
[member="Hajrah Marjanah"]
[member="Isarn Apis"]
[member="Ithiel Vi'Dreya"]
[member="Jade"] Isara
[member="Jayce Pryde"]
[member="Jennifer Blanchard"]
[member="Jorco Czeku"]
[member="Jorge"]
[member="Josh DragonsFlame"]
[member="Jyoti Nooran"]
[member="Kalee Bladesworn"]
[member="Kaptan Americus"]
[member="Karlie Lynn Destat"]
[member="Kasca Fen"]
[member="Katrine Van-Derveld"]
[member="Kayla Wylen"]
[member="Keva"]
[member="Kiff Brayde"]
[member="Kingsley"]
[member="Kip Ridel"]
[member="Kurayami Bloodborn"]
[member="Kurenai Yumi"]
[member="Kwelin Orlov"]
[member="Kyber"]
[member="Kyrinov"]
[member="Lefwen Claskier"]
[member="Lirka Ka"]
[member="Luna Terrik"]
[member="Luna Vega"]
[member="Lyla Quinn"]
[member="Mallory Bash"]
[member="Maple Harte"]
[member="Marek Starchaser"]
[member="Mauer"]
[member="Minerva Vessia"]
@Naria Varos
[member="Muad Dib"]
[member="Nine Lives"]
[member="Orion Trex"]
[member="Osintrium"]
[member="Petra Cavataio"]
[member="Qaarssk Roark"]
[member="Razelle Breuner"]
[member="Riley Reese"]
[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="Taramaz Laurs"]
[member="Tex Americus"]
[member="Teyla Ee'everwest"]
[member="Thalira Kiing"]
[member="Tmoxin Temi"]
[member="Traveler"]
[member="Treiades Rhoujen"]
[member="Valencia Hadley"]
[member="Varick Lechner"]
[member="Veronika Fleischer"]
[member="VildarnTentoria"]
[member="Voph"]
[member="Vyra Silara"]
[member="Zhai'ellev"]

 

[Carbon]

Location: GARDENS

"Where would you put the strongpoint?"

"Behind the statue, of course."

"Hardly imaginative."

The four identical individuals, separated primarily by the flavor of gas mask they wore, were standing at the base of the statue in question. Their huddle was quiet, their gear still on, and their voices muffled by the masks that remained glued to their faces. As a gesture of good will to the other party-goers they'd kept only sidearms, and the one with a nozzle that gave the impression of an elephantine trunk had an ancient sidearm that was either a replica, or an absolutely priceless antique. "Imaginative doesn't equal effective."

Carbon's companion, armed with pieces of tape crossing the middle of his mask, waved a dismissive hand. They were all the same height, the same build, and had the same voice. Sometimes he felt like a man talking to holograms of himself.

"It's a raised firing position. You layer the sandbags across the rise and drop a mounted gun to either side. Clear line of fire down the thoroughfare and the flanks are protected by their traverse."

"And if they come crashing through the hedgerows?"

"Presumably they've already been leveled and this is part of a static line emplacement."

The other three groaned, one waving a hand and turning as if to leave, while one hung his head. It was clear this was a common refrain. Their words mangled together into indecipherability before they seemed to give up on the line of conversation, though they'd briefly risen in volume before the fragile armistice had been imposed.

"What's wr-" He couldn't even get the second word out.

A cacophony of raised voices drowned him almost immediately.

 

[Kaden Farr]

Capital City Fountains​

Nivek​

Wearing: xxx​

Tag: [member="Maur"]​

---

---

​

---

​

Kaden felt naked without his armor. Most of his previous life, and now this one, was lived in a suit of beskar. Most would have said he did not need it considering his heart was lined with the thick iron, and where it had once been soft for the world around him, his experiences had ensured it would remain hard. Tonight was supposed to be a celebration, and a new experience. The celebration was something which genuinely intrigued Kaden, but his mind was scattered, adjusting to the fact that life among the Confederacy was not anything like life on Mand'yaim. This world was everything that the Netherworld was not.

Happy.

This was something Kaden did not understand. There were only two times in his life he had been happy. The day he held his daughter in his arms for the first time, and the day he married... She had rejected him in the end and did not understand their culture well enough to be devoted to him. She had been the one to kill him in the end, and Kaden would never be happy as long as she was allowed to go unpunished for the crime she had committed against him and the entire Mando'ade. There was no longer any convincing him of anything else.

Kaden needed a distraction, and that was what he was at the celebration for. If these people knew what tihar was that was what he would be looking for. They likely did not, but every culture had their own brew. Music played in the distance as the beskarhearted Mando walked about the fountains looking for a local vendor of alcoholic beverages. There was a blank look on his face as he perused the booths, likely the only one to look so miserable in the entire place. Perhaps he would find what he was looking for and perhaps not, but either way, Kaden was going to find some way to get his mind off his troubles.

 

[Vyra Silara]

- Location -​

[Capital City Fountains And Celebration Vendors]: ‘Artemesia’s Solace’ fountain​

​

- Appearance -​

Simplicity​

​

- Status -​

Open For Interaction​

​

[[OOC Note]] ​

If you choose to interact, please know my replies will be very slow as I am still sick. Thanks for your patience! <3​

Tucked between two of the more elaborate fountains in a small, grassy nook, the Savior of Nivek stood tall on a bed of rocks among the glowing nightweeds, hands folded gracefully over her heart, eyes closed contemplative thought, an almost somber expression captured on her fair face. She was carved of simple sandstone against a backdrop of plain wood, no colors, no ornamentation of any kind save for the tiny glittering starstones scattered across the bottom of her gown, but it was clear that whomever had given life to her rocky form had shaped her with love and devotion. Below her feet bubbled a gentle fountain, trickling through the rocks to settle in a murky pool, where the fresh, glimmering petals of the planet’s most common lily floated like boats on the tides.

Vyra bent, squinting in the dim light of the lantern hanging on either side of the scene as she struggled to read all the names of the dead scrawled with purpose into the rocks around Artemesia, reminders of those great figureheads lost to the Gulag Plague. She’d seen the full record of the plague victims on the walls inside the Lyceum, gone through the names one by one until her eyes ached and her head spun. Relovian’s own monument was so large it spanned multiple buildings and city blocks, having lost over half the Relovi population to the same plague in mere months. So long ago, so many dead, the marks left by the horrifying disease still visible to this day despite progress.

Behind her, the festival sang on, and she found her senses caught up in the bright melodies and rising swells of the music. [member='Eirene'], her Handmaiden and trusted friend, had broken away from Vyra’s fountain investigation to fetch drinks and food, but she had yet to return.
If the Viceroy Queen of Relovian was anything, it was patient.
The brunette shifted her moonlit skirts and perched delicately on the edge of the fountain wall, the silver and gold gemdust tattoos spiraling across her bare skin shimmering in the lantern light. She’d pointedly left her crown behind for the evening, her mind light and shoulders relaxed without the burden of her position, dark hair freely undone and left to its own devices.

Vyra’s eyes wandered back to Artemesia, the soft silhouette of her face, the petite curve of her upper lip, the gentle shape of her eyes. The longer she stared, the more she felt like she was looking at a near perfect carving of her dear cousin, [member='Naedira Darcrath'], although it had been years since she’d seen her in person. Not for want of trying, of course, but the deeper Vyra settled into her Relovian throne the less she saw of everything (and everyone) else that mattered to her heart.
As was usual, thoughts of her family lead to thoughts of friends, and thoughts of friends strayed from the current and went speeding down the rabbit hole to shatter across memories of people and events long before the Confederacy.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Location: Fountains
Wearing: Dress
Wielding: 5 Czerka knives [concealed under the dress]
Tags: Feel free to join!

For months, Madalena Antares had walked among the Confederacy, with neither her nor others save Daisy knowing who's body that really was. In those months she'd worn the tightest and slinkiest of clothes, causing more than one pair of eyes to jump out of their sockets. Now that Scherezade was back in her own body though, it hadn't matter that most of Madalena's wardrobe had been picked by her; she was uncomfortable wearing those skin tight dresses, some of which outright blocked the airways because of how sharply they pinched at the waist.

Which was why she'd chosen the most modest of the dresses in the closet. It was still tight, but not overly so, and while some skin was showing, it still felt somewhat protective, somewhat safe. Thankfully, she still had some of her knives with her. Madalena had taken good care of all of her weapons, even those she had not known why they were important, such as Scherezade's mother's lightwhip. And with the knives carefully concealed below her dress, there was some comfort that Scherezade could cling to.

She had every intention of coming clean soon. She'd almost marched straight to the Citadel once she'd healed from the process, but something had held her back. Well, not something. She knew exactly what.

People looked at her differently. Sure, they thought she was Madalena, did not know she was Scherezade. But the way they looked… Scherezade had never experienced that before. There were no mocking looks, no giggles behind her back. People looked at her with respect. Or at bare minimum, a small amount of appreciation. No one seemed to roll their eyes and give off the impression that they would be happier if she wasn't there. A bunch of people even smiled at her, and not in a condescending way.

Scherezade had done her best to emulate Madalena's warm smiles, respond to them and not let it know that her body was hers again, that it was her. These were stolen moments, she knew. All this would end the day she walked into the Vicelord's office and told him what she had done, how she had found the way into the Confederate database and changed things around to support what she had put in place, gave him the small chip that would turn almost everything back to as it used to be with the small exception of keeping her home planet and pebble centuries still concealed.

And then there was the whole matter of Cardinal. And while she already knew how she was going to fix things with him, her stomach still turned around and made her want to vomit when she thought about it. He was not going to be happy. He could, potentially, try to kill her once a little thing was completed.

Scherezade knew she was on very borrowed time.

But she just wanted a little bit of it, just to continue experience this entire new treatment, which she knew would end the moment she opened her mouth to tell the truth. Just a tiny bit more…

 

[Daxton Bane]

Location: Gardens

The figure in a dark green robe drew little attention to himself as he entered the gardens, the style and cut marked him as a Force User but to what kind it was unclear as the hood left most of his features in shadow. Crossing the path with a predatory stride, it was clear he though highly of himself and pity those too slow to get out his way.

Taking a silver flask from his pocket, he drained its contents in one quaff, sharp filed teeth baring back as a long hiss escaped his lips. The burn of the alcohol down his thoat gave him little solace as the fiery orbalisk poison flooded his system to counteract the toxins. In a way, he drew hollow pleasure from the sensation as one of the true things that made him feel alive.

His contact was late and it did not please the Zabrak one bit. He wasnt here to make trouble, on the contrary, Daxton would prefer a discrete negotiation. He needed the information his contact had, and kwepa was making him wait. Either he was really brave or really stupid. Time will tell which of the two.

 

[Kelsie Sylvan]

Kelsie was... mildly excited. And when she was excited she put her all into whatever she was doing -- and tonight it showed.

Her flowing red dress seemed to move seemed to move on its own in the windless, starry night, her matching red heels clacking against the flagstones as she entered the fountain square. Normally she wouldn't wear any makeup; her natural looks were more than enough to turn a few heads. But for more than a few moments on her way to the square it had felt like every star in the skies above was watching her. She'd decided to try a little harder this time: a splash of vibrant red lipstick to match her dress, a little gold and beige mascara to bring out her hazel eyes and mix with the red to transition seamlessly into her well-washed reddish-brown hair.

She'd told Kahlil he had the night off to do whatever he wanted -- she assumed he'd still been getting ready to go out when she left the ship, too bad he hadn't seen her all dressed up. She was just a little faster with her makeup. The night was still young, of course, but she had no plans to wait for anyone... well, one person.

Entering the square looking like that was a good way to catch glances or be asked to dance, but Kelsie kept her body language relatively closed -- it was obvious she was waiting for someone. Her aura was almost a little intimidating, and no one asked her to dance, even though she would've loved a few moments to move to the music. She loved the vibrancy of the place, and music was something she rarely had time to appreciate, but here she could close her eyes for a moment and feel satisfied.

Hopefully he'd show. If Kelsie could be nervous, she probably would be now.

[member="Kahlil Zambrano"] [member="Niklaas Azthal"]

 

[Carbon]

Location: Approaching Fountains
Target: [member="Vyra Silara"]
Objective: 'Social Interaction'

He'd left Two, Three and Four behind. They had a debate to settle, and as much as Carbon wanted to participate, he knew he couldn't be around for the outcome. There was just something about him being in charge that kept them from really letting him have it. They'd joke around, but rarely were they serious. Walking through a crowd of people robed in modestly colored cloth and silk, of a style he was distinctly unfamiliar with, he frowned deeply beneath his mask. More than a handful got out of his way in the process of giving him strange looks. It was impossible to blame them. He stuck out like a Trandoshan in a Jawa camp.

As force of habit, he ran his fingers down the outside of his thigh rig, tracing a glove over the leather as he traded hedgerows and greenery for opens spaces and fountains. They weren't all open though, as he passed what looked to be a small alcove. It was easily overlooked.

But a flash of white had caught his eye.

The woman was clearly lost in thought, and there was something about that look that spoke to him. She seemed lost; dearly so. Memories were a trap - his Primogenitor had told him that. He'd said it was a blessing to be a blank slate, without the encumbrance of a life long lived. He begged to differ. Several years of combat experience and it's associated memories were starting to take it's toll on him. Mentally, he felt aged. Physically, his scars were aching, like a bad joint might before an impending storm.

His frown grew deeper.

Even this interaction, one he knew would be termed social, he approached it as a potentially hostile one. His shadow, sharp and elongated in the dim lighting of the party, meant he had to adjust his positioning to come up more behind her than at her side. It kept the darkness of his silhouette from her view unless she turned her head. The water was another problem; reflection. Get too close, and she'd see it before he spoke. He doubted that would be a mercy.

When he stopped behind her, just out of arm's reach, he paused a long moment, wondering how he should interrupt her. Should he? His eyes lowered, and then he realized that this was another combat simulation - hesitation got you killed. Don't shy from an ambush; embrace it. "Mind if I join you?" He asks, baritone muffled by his mask.

"You seem..." the word struggled to form in his mind, "...preoccupied."

 

[Kelsie Sylvan]

Kelsie was scanning the main square for the man -- but only until he was a few meters away did her gaze settle on Niklaas. Her demeanor almost immediately shifted from waiting to ready to go, her face lighting up as she took a step over to him, meeting him part way. It made her feel a little less overdressed by being near her well-dressed partner. As soon as he stepped close enough she smoothly slipped her arm into his and continued walk in the same direction as him. But her smile stayed vibrant and beautiful as ever.

"Hey handsome, been a while." She wasn't walking in any direction in particular, and was partly waiting for him to guide her someplace. "Finally got out of Ethos, for little old me?" Not too little, perhaps, in her heels she was a quarter-inch taller than Nik... but she was sure that before the night was over they'd be off.

It had been a few months now since they'd spent those few short days together, but she'd truly enjoyed that time with him, and wanted a little more. She'd said she'd be back... maybe it had been a little too long, but she still wanted to spend time with Niklaas, and promised herself that she'd visit again soon. "It's good to see you again," she said with a smile.

[member="Niklaas Azthal"]

 

[Maur]

Fountains

Being a Togorian had its perks. Crowds of the festive partygoers, some a bit inebriated already, parted for Maur like she was a prophet of millennia past. The liquor vendor she had visited accommodated her request for some of his stronger wares, without secretly watering it down. A few credits later and she now comfortably made her way through the throng with a pint in each hand. Maur felt pretty pleased with herself as she found an empty space large enough for one of her size on a bench near one of the fountains: not a single drop had been spilled on her nicer, high-collared vest.

A human male ([member="Kaden Farr"]) stood nearby, looking lost and miserable. He, unfortunately, looked like one of the few who had not been drinking. Maur frowned. That, in her perhaps inflated opinion, was an injustice that must be righted. She pushed one of the pints into his chest, nodding at it and hoping he'd get—and appreciate—the gesture. Maur then lounged on the bench, extending a bare arm across the back, and sipped on her remaining pint. It was light and sweet, with enough of a bite even she could feel it.

Tonight was going to be a good night.

 

[Kahlil Noble]

He should have expected it, but he didn't. A sad smile played out over Kahlil's face as in the distance he could see [member="Kelsie Sylvan"] ahead, smiling and enjoying the evening with someone the young man hadn't met before. It was something he should have guessed. Someone like Kelsie had to have someone important in her life. Why hadn't he thought to ask sooner? Save himself from what ever it was he was feeling.

The ex-Sith dare not stay any longer. This part of her life wasn't something he was suppose to be apart of. It'd be best for him to just wander around the festivity and enjoy it.

 

[Kelsie Sylvan]

"Thought so."

She knew he felt the same way about her that she did about him, so she'd had no real worry that he'd show up tonight. It was a little surprising to see him all dressed up and with his hair slicked back -- honestly she thought he looked pretty good. Made her happy that he'd dress up for her. And even more happy that he cared enough to give her a little compliment. She'd missed him.

"You're looking pretty sharp yourself," she replied, still keeping up her beautiful smile.

His question reminded her of how much they had to talk about, but she felt the need to talk about the happy things in these happy moments. "Mm, tons... I've been traveling with a young man named Kahlil. He's... well, basically my best friend. I've been helping him become a spacer and all, and... now we're somewhat involved with the CIS? Going to be joining up with a group of commandos for a little while." That was the simple version. She didn't ask him about what he'd been doing lately -- she was interested, of course, but she knew it was likely more of the same -- as she was sure he'd have a few questions for her. It was a little odd having such a well-dressed and sophisticated young woman being so colloquial with Nik, but she was sure he didn't mind much.

[member="Niklaas Azthal"]

 

[Valencia Hadley]

​

Location: The Gardens, Nevik​

Tag: [member="Genesis Rostu"]​

Wearing: Something Shimmery​

​

The invitation to attend the Starfall Festival on Nivek had been extended to all those in the CIS that wished to attend - and though Valencia had taken advantage of quite a few of these offers of late, this time she thought that she might have something a bit more concrete in mind to use the time for, rather than just laying on a beach or trying to get some time alone. When she’d received the invitation, she’d been back home on Manda, working away in her office as she often did. It had caused her pause, not because of the location or the nature of the festival, but because of the opportunity that it had presented. She’d spent most of that afternoon fretting over the choice she needed to [SIZE=11pt]make,[/SIZE] and had polished off a bottle or two of her own private stock while considering it.

As the afternoon had rounded to evening, she’d sent a message to someone who had made it all too easy to track them down; she’d sent a message to Grand Marshall, Genesis Rostu. The contents had been simple and to the point, ‘Join me on Nivek for the festival. I’d like to catch up.’ With all the time she’d spent mulling over whether to send it or not, she spent exactly no time thinking about the content of the message. She’d hit send well before she’d thought to add something like ‘Meet me at [SIZE=11pt]such-and-such[/SIZE] location!’ or ‘I’ll be the one wearing whatever!’ Stupid, stupid, stupid…

She’d had lots of time to consider that in the days leading up to the festival, while she also mulled over things like what she was going to wear and how she was going to do her hair. She hadn’t felt truly nervous about selecting an outfit in years - it was terribly [SIZE=11pt]off-putting[/SIZE]. Even in her interactions with the Vicelord she hadn’t worried over silly things like the shoes she was going to wear… Something about seeing the Grand Marshall, and this time on purpose, had her completely unwound. Some things never changed.

Her trip to and subsequent arrival on Nivek had been uneventful, and she was sure to arrive late into the evening to do her best to miss any of the political chit chat that usually came before people were deep in their cups. She noted that it was likely the correct choice as she disembarked from her transport, as even in her shimmering gold dress, she wasn’t garnering much attention. She made a quick pit stop to grab herself a glass of champagne from one of the passing trays that seemed to be circling the entrance to the Gardens before she strode [SIZE=11pt]past[/SIZE] the wall of hedges and into the dimly lit, and blissfully quiet, hedge maze. She was halted almost immediately as she felt the heel of her shoe sink into the soft earth of the grass below her, however. She sighed softly and leaned down, undoing the strappy pair of heels she’d selected and tugging them free of her feet.

The cool and slightly prickly feeling of the grass was almost refreshing as she continued on into the garden, her heels in one hand and the champagne flute in the other. She could hear the soft murmuring of voices around some of the high hedge walls, and she took care to avoid any of the quietly chatting folks that she could. This was a wondrously magical little spot… With the strings of yellow bulbs along the tops of the [SIZE=11pt]rows[/SIZE] and the little nooks and crannies around each winding turn, it would a lovely spot to get lost in… Lost in… Oh kark.

She turned a touch, trying to remember when last she’d heard voices. Perhaps a few minutes ago? A faint frown tugged at the corners of her lips as she lifted the glass to her lips and took a sip, glancing up and down the corridor of greenery she found herself in. [SIZE=11pt]Well[/SIZE], this was awkward...

​

 

[Genesis Rostu]

Location: The Gardens, Nivek​

Tag: [member="Valencia Hadley"]​

When she spoke, everything stopped.

The Grand Marshal was never the type to thrive in the social spheres of the Confederacy. His appearances were few and far between - only making an entrance when absolutely necessary to fulfill the expectations of his role. He would be there for the signings of treaties. He would stand fast during the celebrations of momentous, planetary occasions. He would do as was expected of the Confederate Defense Force's leader. However, he never went out of his way to join a festival or gala. One might assume that he had an unspoken distaste for such events...but in truth, he had simply had his fill. In times long since past, the Clone was once an avid supporter of another. Her aspirations and ambitions were as momentous as Golbah City's spires - and because he cared for her, he would let her stand upon his shoulders.

Thus, when a much younger [member="Valencia Hadley"] attempted to climb the social ladder, it was Genesis who was her plus one. There were many nights where she fretted over his ties in the turbolifts, muttering about why he insisted on allowing his hands to be so calloused or reminding him on what not to say. In those days, the glories of battle in the name of the Republic were hardly "appropriate" topics of conversation for the socialites. And, because he cared, he humored her every event. He did his best to make the young politician look good - smiling, shaking hands, and being the perfect accessory to her attire. When it was all said and done, the warrior of the present had simply no desire to spend his free time indulging in those particular activities. Mostly because the smell of champagne literally made his stomach turn after drinking so much over the years.

Well…mostly because it reminded him about what was.

In the present, a simple missive broke that trend into ten thousand pieces. The Grand Marshal had caught wind of the fact that there was a festival occurring on Nivek; and as a result planned on scheduling a training session for his officers to be concurrent. A perfect excuse for not going was simply being engaged with something far more pressing, was it not? However, before he could so much as relay the orders, his datapad buzzed upon the mahogany surface of his desk. There were only a handful of souls in the Confederacy whose notifications were not set to silent - mostly his superiors, the food truck driver, and most recently Valencia. As a result, the device was flipped over and read immediately. Genesis scoffed momentarily at the thought of joining the festivities...but he knew he was going. Their meeting on Scarif had been spontaneous and had plucked at old scabs that they both thought were gone.

Nothing truly...became of that conversation - save for them being comfortable reaching out over electronic messages every so often for an awkward hi. This was the first real olive branch since they spoke upon the sandy beach. When the hour came, Genesis did his best to remember the finer points of what the now Viceroy had taught him all those years ago. He emerged from his shuttle wearing all black everything, save for a neat pocket square of white. However, the challenge soon became tracking the Viceroy down after he set foot upon the bustling world. She had neglected to leave him with any sort of direction; no meeting point, no clue as to where she would be, nothing. And as a result, Genesis had to settle for the old fashioned way. As tactfully as possible, he aimed questions to some of the hosts - particularly droids - who may have noticed where she might have went off to. It was only by pure happenstance that a server happened to remember the gilded dress she wore and pointed him in the direction of the Gardens. This...was a touch surprising to the Clone, as he was certain she'd have preferred shaking hands or socializing with the elite at an evening such as this.

But he wasn't complaining being far away from the din. Not one bit. Soon, his strides bore him into the depths of the hedge maze. His first instinct was to call out for the woman, but that would have clashed with the Old Rules. Predominantly, draw as little attention to himself as possible. Very well. He'd settle for peering through the minute breaks in the hedges, hoping to catch a glimmer of the supposed gilded dress as he walked. It took some time, but eventually he found exactly who he was looking for. His offhand slid casually within his pants' pocket as he approached, making a two fingered wave with his right. "Fancy meeting you here." he began, offering a smile. "You look…wow."

He had almost forgotten how much Valencia flexed.

 

[Valencia Hadley]

​

Location: The Garden, Nivek
Tag: [member="Genesis Rostu"]​

She’d been wandering around for what felt like an eternity when she heard him speak from behind her. She spun and spotted Genesis striding through the grass, one hand in his pocket, the other lifted in a mocking sort of salute as he greeted her. He looked… Wonderful. Just as he always did. Valencia could remember a hundred evenings where he’d allowed her to fuss over the little details, her hands tugging at ties or fussing with pocket squares while he patiently smiled at her, or rested his hands against her sides… She blinked a few times rapidly as he continued towards her, immediately kicking herself mentally for having grabbed that glass of bubbly before wandering into the maze.

She offered him a dry smile as he complimented her ensemble before she caught herself, remembering that she’d invited him here, and as such she could probably hold off on being a sarcastic piece for the next few minutes. She instead shifted gears and offered a genuine smile, one that was warm and welcoming as she motioned to the hedges on either side of them, “It’s a shame only you’ll get to enjoy it then - I seemed to have gotten myself a little turned around.” She dropped her hands back to her sides, the shoes tapping against one another as she pivoted again to try and sort out which way was out. “I’ve heard before that you’re supposed to just stick right and eventually you’ll hit an exit… Care to try?” She turned a fully dazzling smile his way this time before she turned her back on him and began to wander along the hedge, running her fingers along the greenery as she walked.

Just as in every step of their relationship, she trusted the clone to follow her lead, so she didn’t spare a glance over her shoulder as she continued down the path. The grass was pleasantly soft beneath her feet as she glided through the maze, following each right turn she encountered, wandering past several small, secluded alcoves as they went, not bothering to slow down. In time she spoke, her voice thoughtful as the hem of her dress flowed a few inches behind her, catching on each tiny blade of grass before being pulled free, “Thank you for coming to this… I know it’s not really your thing.”

Her head tilted as she glanced over her shoulder, pale blue eyes flashing in the dim light cast by the bulbs overhead. “I didn’t expect you to say no, mind you - but I’m pleased you’re here nonetheless… And how did you find me in here anyway?” She turned as she continued to walk backward for [SIZE=11pt]a ways[/SIZE], regarding him with a small smirk curling the edge of one side of her mouth.

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Lyceum, early evening local time

Adelle stacked another crate of food on top of the small pile in the sweltering kitchens, a bead of sweat trickling down the nape of her neck. It was chaos inside and outside the Lyceum's staff area: staff, droids and organics alike, bustling to and fro from the back of house to the open area where partygoers wined and dined, unloading crews shuttling crates of supplies into the Lyceum, partygoers asking for managers and freebies. Her head spun as she navigated through the mess of beings back outside where she and Leigh were on cargo-shuttling duty. Na'an, for some gods-forsaken reason, had elected to *work* the catering inside.

Her mouth pinched into a line as she picked up another crate while Leigh stood guard with the pallets belonging to their team. Adelle tried not to be upset with Na'an. The smaller woman had said she picked up a job that would let them go to a party. She said nothing about working the damn thing. But Noba liked results and disliked idleness. Credits had to be made at the end of the day and the Hawk was Noba's freighter. A cacophony of sound washed over her as she re-entered the building. At least her shift was almost over. Na'an still had hours to go.

[member="Vidalu Na'an"] [member="Leigh"]

 

[Vidalu Na'an]

Location: Lyceum, near the kitchens
Attire: Working Wear

Vidalu Na'an hated nearly everything about this job.

As she checked herself in a nearby mirror for what must have been the sixth time, the former Padawan wished (also for the sixth time) that Karre Noba had chosen someone else to handle a catering job on this glittering, night-shrouded planet during festival season. Of course, it had been in one of the other areas, like the fifth sector, that wouldn't have been so bad. She and the rest of the crew of the Hawk had passed through there on the way to the tables Noba had rented, and Na'an had almost let herself hope that this would be fun. The bustle around the games, the smell of cheap fried food and cheaper beer, the tinny, effervescent music piping overhead--it had all felt so much like a bigger version of the village celebrations back on Dantooine. Even the noise of the crowd felt familiar, loud and crude, all laughter and yelling and profanity in at least four different languages. Now, the fifth sector's Starfall Festival was a party Na'an could get her teeth into.

Here, though.

Na'an smoothed her front, trying to press down the tight knot of nerves resting somewhere in her gut. [member="Leigh"] had suggested buying the bodysuit, a sleek black number in the nicest material Na'an had ever worn in her life, for the occasion, but it wasn't like she was fooling anyone. Everyone in this area, near the private gardens...they were all too lush. They were all wearing silk and diamonds and dresses in shimmering materials she could only guess at. They had perfect eyebrows and flawless skin and looked like they breathed the kind of beauty and luxury that made Na'an intensely uncomfortable. The place, too, from the starry gold decorations to the stone floor itself, was polished to gleaming perfection, dotted with statues and artwork that Na'an was sure she'd shatter if she so much as touched them. The drinks all looked expensive. The music was quiet and tasteful. Even the Force-Sensitive people here all felt...refined? Sophisticated? She couldn't find the word for it.

In any case, Vidalu Na'an was surrounded by her betters, and she knew it. She did not belong at this particular party, except maybe as the help. Which, honestly, was why she'd volunteered for this particular role--at least [member="Adelle Bastiel"] would be able to mingle, and enjoy the Starfall Festival properly. She checked herself in the mirror for the seventh time, smoothing the tight knot of her hair and making sure her eyepatch fully covered the scar, then turned to the first noble to approach the table.

"Hello," she said with her biggest, falsest smile. "All the pastries here are made with Dantooine tritacale. Just...so you know. In case of allergies."

Oh, gods. This was going to be a very long night.

 

[GhostOfProtocol]

Lyceum
Attire: Here

Celebrating and drinking.

Relaxing. The story behind the festival was pure, after everything the galaxy had been through those of Nivek still found hope. They were, for the first time, willing to share that hope with outsiders. They were, for the first time, willing to share that hope with the CIS. After everything the CIS had been through, all the fighting that had torn the galaxy apart and blacked out skies above innocent worlds, it was time to breathe.

Kei adjusted his suit one last time.

Gone was the business casual look. Gone was the armour. In was the formal wear, expensive wrist accessories and suits and shirts. The formal cloak he chose to drape over his shoulder was purple, the colour of wealth. His boots looked polished and spotless, they had been cleaned only minutes before Kei had walked into the city. He had spent hours perfecting his outfit, he didn't know why. He just wanted to look good.

He had spent time mingling with the locals, drinking the alcohol provided and relaxing. He knew it would be his only chance to relax, at least for a while. He already knew that his depature from Nivek would be the trust back into work that he was trying to avoid. His ship was already prepared, the moment he left the planet he would be flying to Balmorra, Commenor and Corellia in that specific order. He had to finally get back to work, even if he didn't want to.

But until then, he could relax.

The man ran his hand through his hair. He took a sip from the glass of Corellian Wine he had been given earlier in the night. He wanted food, that was priority. He hadn't eaten in a few hours and the hunger was setting in. He set his legs in motion, mingling every so often but just generally walking towards the nearest food sources. He was hungry but the people of Nivek were more important than he was. This was their festival, after all.

And above them, the stars twinkled.

 

[Curupira Hawk]

Location: Fountains
Wearing: This
Post Theme: Stay Alive
Tag: Open​

Does the wolf apologize?​

Golden eyes settled upon the fountain ahead as quiet voices whispered through her mind. Her body was a husk, beautiful and young, with fire red hair dyed blonde and forever familiar golden eyes staring ahead. She had once stood side by side her siblings, she had learned from a madman who thought her to survive, she had loved a maniac who killed for the sake of their love just as he killed for the fun of it or any other reason. It excited her be treated so, part of her mind partaining to the childlike temperament and desires even when she had grown. There was a moment though, a moment in which she, Curupira Hawk had fought by herself, used as a test for a young apprentice. It had served as a reminder - she was a warrior. A Dathomirian. Yet, with connection to the Force weakened by the Neatherworld, she grew weaker and suseptable to the voices. To the demons. To the nightmares. She was a demon behind the facade of an angel. It had always been so. The crazy men in her life had allowed that to flourish.

It was a mush of thoughts, hers and of other voices inside her head. They all had a say. You could talk to Curupira and never realize everyone else participating in your conversation. She knew though. She heard each and every one of them clearly. They were all there. One voice still tried to make her weaker, keep her from her family. She hadn't known back then, part of her still didn't know whose voice that was but her blood, her DNA, as it was part of other Mandragora, blood of old Mandragora, the banished and the imprisoned. They had allowed for the monster to send her far, to corrupt her mind. She had ran. She had sought to find existance anew.

Her new Master had allowed her to embark upon that journey, yes, but her path was more solitary than she was originally willing to admit to herself. No man could truly plunge inside her mind and seek the darkness born inside her. It was something Curupira had to do herself. And it was separation from her family, from the people she loved more than herself - her mate, her children... the anchors that kept her once strong and contained her power, they weren't beside her to restrain her. She was free. And she was cracked.

"Mie'yebo Shunkaha Silaada," she muttered to herself. A once forgotten language Curupira had abandoned, a small spell had allowed her to see into her past, into forgotten and locked away memories. That voyage though had proved to be far more corrupting than any lessons given to her by Seth Draclau or any adventures Ket Van-Derveld had taken her own. Her own darkness, it seemed, lay in her beginnings. And she hadn't known. One day, she would fall to her hands, she would walk equal to that of her mate and the children to be born. For now, she was on a journey to that path. Curupira thought this the very path she was told of but the red that had begun to form in the gold of her irises was not in that path, not in her future. Not in the future, she had been told. That future was far different, unfamiliar. You know where you're headed, a quiet voice told her, into the darkness, into the abyss, into the madness you've always meant to be. She blinked slowly, watching the fountain. She knew. She had always known even if it hadn't been said. Even if the red in her eyes was new, Curupira knew that one day, she would make a home on the moon. She would go back.

But only when the journey was complete.​

 

[Otor Blank the II]

Location: Lyceum

Purpose: To Enjoy The Festival

----------------------------------------

The festival really was something to admire. The history is rich. The people are hospitable. The drinks are great and plentiful. What's not to love?

Well, the act of getting to the party was quite unenjoyable. His Chief of Labor, Chief Bryll of the Defense of the Belugans, and quite a few close friends expressed their peeves with Otor leaving the planet for a party, especially so early after his coronation. Despite these feelings he went anyway, he was their Lord after all. He folded when they said he should at least take a contingent of royal guards, but refused to be followed by them at the party. He'd been ruling the planet for 5 years with barely a break. His oath to isolate himself until he was crowned made that so. But that time had come. He was Lord and he could do as he pleased to represent Quarzite and its people. Though getting drunk may not be the best way to do that.

"Oh to hell with it." he thought. He wasn't going to be the only person of importance here about to get drunk, it was a party after all. Hopefully somebody approached him for conversation before he did get wasted though, he was terrible conversationalist when he under the influence.