Seven Seas | CIS Dominion of Leritor

[Ascendant Muse]

L E R I T O R​

Fine Dining | Dance Floor | Performances | Promenade​

Decades ago, the resplendant world was apart of something greater. Her people shared in the ideas of Freedom and Prosperity - ultimately joining hands with a community of southern systems. For a time, this community flourished, but Time saw this good thing come to an end.

Now, that same community had been born anew.

Over the course of the past several months, the Confederacy of Independent Systems had begun to reforge the bonds of old. Members of their former community flocked to their banner, restoring their pledges and recommitting to their shared values. And now, Leritor was to be the latest addition. Talks of return to the fold were already underway, but a show of good faith was required. Leritor, in the absence of the former community, had fallen upon difficult times. The prosperity it had known as a member of the Confederacy had waned over time. And so, in exchange for the renewal of its vows, the Confederacy swore to breathe new life into the planet's economy.

How they would do this was by taking advantage of what Leritor did best. At even the most basic glance, the world was stunning. A temperate climate characterized its populated regions - with lush beaches, pristine sands, and crystal clear waters as far as the eye could see. It was within this haven that the Confederacy constructed a high class resort: The Seven Seas. The structure loomed several stories tall and afforded each and every room a breathtaking view of the ocean. Tours and excursions were undertaken by natives of Leritor, whilst "high brow" events could be hosted within the Grand Ballroom.

And today, the Seven Seas would open its doors for the first time.

The battle-weary Confederacy would take a much needed reprieve from their war to celebrate the return of Leritor. Tonight, a Masquerade awaited the nation's brave souls. One and all would be welcome to attend in their finest threads - complete with a mask to hide their faces. At the end of the evening, as these things often went, the masks would come off! But for the meantime, each would be greeted to music and dancing in the center of the Ballroom. Fine Dining would be available at the well-adorned tables which surrounded the dance floor - whilst spirits and other strong beverages could be found at the adjacent Bar. What's more, should one need to get away from the noise, they could walk the Promenade and enjoy the sunset over the water.

Above, breathtaking displays of death-defying acrobatics would be performed by a local troupe. Flawless fabrics draped down from the ceilings, providing them the means to glide across the air with untold grace. What's more, a stage laid before the dancefloor, where live music played in the background. But the foreground was also dedicated to this troupe - who performed daring feats from firebreathing, to exotic dancing, to even more acrobatics. Today, the Masquerade would be the first of many events hosted within the newly built Seven Seas.

Tonight, the Confederacy would take a much needed vacation.

Spoiler: Tag

[member=AceReplica], [member="Aedan Miles"], [member=Ailuros], [member="Aithne Charr"], [member=Akabane], [member="Alden Kyr'Nau"], [member="Aleksander Miles"], @Alistar Myre, [member="Alyva Terrix"], [member="Amaya Cardei"], [member="Amaya Korolev"], [member="Anastasia Verd"], [member="Aoker Veru"], [member="Arabella Darkhold"], [member=Arlox], [member=Ash], [member="Aurelio Ilyin"], [member="Averin An'Arach"], [member="Aya Clarke"], [member=Azrik], [member=B1-990], [member=B2-D34T7], [member=Ballen-Ist], [member="Bartic Myth'rand"], [member=BBZ-20], @Ben Mentl, [member="Bulthos Dorrir"], [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="Dakita Calfur"], [member="Dalton Kenway"], [member="Darth Atrox"], [member="Darth Illisus"], [member="Darth Kentarch"], [member="Darth Malus"], [member="Darth Phren"], [member="Darth Rixas"], [member="Darth Seraphic"], [member="Daxton Bane"], [member=DE-16], [member="Derek Dib"], [member="Dinah Vekarr"], [member="Dorkas Satris"], [member=Duidatos], [member="Ellion Corsair"], [member="Er'in Tenel"], [member="Faa Vera"], [member="Faustina Beryll"], [member="Fawn Alzi"], [member="Fiolette Yvarro"], [member="Galven Hansol"], [member=Gorm], [member="Hades Dai"], [member="Ignis Imura"], [member="Iris Issey"], [member="Irys Arist'lar"], [member="Isamu Baelor"], [member="Jack Anderson"], @Jasmine Zittoun, [member="Jaya Tandris"], [member="Jayce Pryde"], [member="Jennifer Blanchard"], [member="Jeremiah Wynarn"], [member="Jia Darkhold"], [member=Jorah], [member="Jorco Czeku"], [member="Kaiya Halycon"] , [member="Kal Jaii"], [member="Kal Kandossii"], [member="Kalee Bladesworn"], [member="Katarine Ryiah"], [member="Katria Vekarr"], [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"], [member="Kayla Wylen"], [member="Keric Dynt"], [member="Ket Van-Derveld"], [member=Kilia], [member="Koda Fett"], [member="Kino Nagano"], [member="Kurayami Bloodborn"], [member="Kurenai Yumi"], [member="Lady Psyona"], [member=Lanna], [member=Lewis], [member="Liber Cluvius"], [member="Libera Cluvius"], [member="Lola An'Arach"], [member="Lord Mettallum"], [member="Luna Terrik"], [member="Lyla Quinn"], [member=Malok], [member="Maple Harte"], [member="Marcus Lund"], [member="Marek Starchaser"], [member="Maxerian Gron"], [member="Miki Starfallen"], [member="Mira Talus"], [member=Mirvak], [member="Moira Skaldi"], [member="Morgan Redeaux"], [member="Muad Dib"], [member=Mythira], [member="Nasho Vesh"], [member="Nassier Zirfae"], [member="Natalie LaForte"], [member="Natasha Darkstar"], [member="Nayru Wyndaru"], [member="Nilia Saavilin"], [member=Nyx], [member="Orion Trex"], [member="Paige Blossom"], [member=Prime], [member="Qymaen sil Jurai"], [member=R4N-JR], [member="Rale Elysar"], [member=Rapax], [member=Rashae], [member=Raziel], [member="Rosaline Rousseau"], [member="Ryker Wylde"], [member="Samantha Jade"], [member="Scherezade deWinter"], [member=Shadar-Pox], [member="Shaden Vekarr"], [member=Sko'saht], [member=Skorvek], [member="Sol Damerin"], [member="Srina Talon"], [member="Super TD-T47"], [member="Surnin Strenger"], [member="Tamar M'Raki"], [member="Taran Holt"], [member="The Fallen"], [member="The Slave"], [member="Tiberius Royalblaze"], [member=Titan], [member="Tmoxin Temi"], [member="Tyrande of Isobe"], [member="Tytos Ardik"], [member="Valis Marr"], [member="Valjan Hon'rey"], [member="Varik Ice"], [member="Verd Skirata"], [member="Veronika Fleischer"], [member="Vinten Veers"], [member=Vuh'kis], [member="Werah Unon"], [member="Xero Wran"], [member="Yuna Hart"], [member=Zark], [member="Zenva Vrotoa"], [member="Zephyr Carrick"], @Zhorin Cenvax

 

[Chikako Liona]

---

Location: Dance Floor
Attire: Dress Mask
Post: 1

If it was a party Chikako would attend, if it was diplomatic party for a new world coming under the Confederacy rule, she would be there with a kick in her step, ready to boogie with another member. Now a party with face masks and dancing, well just those three words was enough for her to drop anything in a heartbeat and on a ship to wherever it may be, and this get together was not different.

Donned with a white and silver mask the young Echini noble strode her way through the dance floor, spinning around a few times before coming to a stop, on this occasion her usual body guards not present, due to the whole mask wearing things going around. "Now this, this is a party fit for nobles, oh I cannot wait for the night to get underway, I wonder who else will show up, it has been too long since my last dance, I am probably really rusty by now".

Her silver gaze spied around the dance floor, hoping to try and see someone who moved like an acquaintance, why, well again mask, it would be hard to spot someone via their face. As such Chikako put her Echani martial art skills to work, picking people out via movements she knew certain people exhibited, maybe not it's intended means but it would work, hopefully.

---

 

[Aya Clarke]

• Wearing: Dress and Mask
• Post 1

A ball.

Who knew such comfort would be offered to her, so far from the land she called home? Thus, the temptation was too grand for the woman to resist, as she had a dress fashioned to suit the venue, and with it an ornate mask. Though certainly small, the mask, which now rested on the woman's face, hid enough features to mask her identity to all but those who knew her the most intimately, and further adding to such a 'mystery' would be the mere fact she was donning a dress, and not battle armor. Indeed, for all of Clarke's time as General, she had yet to attend even a single event adorned in fine threads such as these. It would be, interesting, to say the least, to see where the night would take the General. Clarke took a slow, deep breath, fixing her shoulder length hair as she felt eyes wander, both over her, and across her form.

It had been a while, since she had been stared at so.

Yet these thoughts, brief as they were, vanished as the crowd would eventually be permitted entry, and with relief awash over her Aya would follow the throngs of guests inside, taking care that each step did not click so loudly that her heels would draw undue attention from those around her. Oh and what a sight, such spectacle, such delight had been absent for some time in the clutches of violence, deceit, treachery, it felt as though she stepped foot into another world. Perhaps she had come home, and all this Confederacy business was a distant dream... alas even were it true she would wish for sleep to once more take her. Too much had been done, and Aya's home, distant though it may be, held ideals she could now spread to those who needed them most.

Yet again, her thoughts were interrupted, this time by a man, or so she surmised, asking if she came alone. The General smiled, and gave a truthful reply, and politely as she could declined the offer to dance with an excuse. 'Oh I wish to see the sights first.' A white lie, perhaps, but not one without a grain of truth to it. The General did indeed wish to see these performers, and with no lack of graceful, purposeful steps did she make her way to the bar adjacent to the going ons, politely ordering and, upon reception, sipping of a fine wine. She drank it slowly, watching those performing for the audience gathering steadily, eyes always glancing aside to pick out those of interest...

 

[Katrine Van-Derveld]

Location: Entrance
Post: 1
Tags: [member="Scherezade deWinter"]
Wearing: Dress, Mask

It was a beautiful place but let's face it, it was the masquerade even that had Katrine excited. She couldn't remember the last time she'd adored her face with a mask and the one currently covering a small portion of her face, though not her noticeable sapphire eyes, made her quite happy. And her mermaid shaped gown seemed fitting for a planet heavily filled with oceans. Katrine was quite content with her appearance and even more looked forward to the dancing and the drinking. Parties were about that, especially a masquerade ball. They definitely needed it.

Of course, most of her knowledge of Leritor was that from the holonet. She'd never been there so when Uncle Isley had sent out a notice of the event, she needed to get herself familiar with just where she was going and so the mermaid gown seemed perfect, and something she didn't get a chance to wear before. And wearing it now, her fingers brushing against the small crystals on the soft fabric made her wonder how Mother could have left behind all her clothes when some of them were so divine.

She's grown impatient on the ship once she was ready, Pebble was still there but she'd said she could join, the Seven Seas resort within walking distance of the Crimson Shadow. Waiting staff was already making their rounds, one of them approaching Katrine as soon as she had entered, offering a tall glass of golden liquid. She'd tried it a couple of times now and could without a doubt say she didn't like it one bit. "Could I have a... Merenzane Gold? " She asked with a wide smile on her face. The server glanced at her before giving a nod and leaving her side, giving her time to continue through the room to take a better look at what was being offered. She most definitely wanted to drink the expensive liquor. After some hits and misses, she'd gone searching for beverages on the holonet and this one sounded so divine though she had yet to discover how it really was.

He returned shortly, delivering a single tall glass of the yellow liquid on his tray. "Thank you," the Witch said as she took the glass.

 

[Srina Talon]

Location: Promenade
Post: 1
Wearing: Dress & Mask

This was not her first time visiting Leritor.

It felt like it had been decades, centuries, since had last stepped foot on the quiet, almost peaceful paradise. Most of the guests from the Confederacy seemed to enjoy the festivities indoors but the Sith Apprentice could not get enough of the fresh ocean air. They had spent so much time trapped in starships as of late, blazing through the multi-colored fractals of hyperspace, that the fair-skinned woman felt like a caged bird. War had come, bloody battles had ensued, and yet somehow life went on. They were encouraged to relax, to breathe, to find some semblance of normalcy but the Echani could not stop hearing the sounds of heavy artillery going off.

Could not stop hearing the subsequent silence that followed. There were no screams, half the time, just a terrible soulless void. Life was far more fragile a thing than most liked to think. Most people could not defend or protect themselves from the war machine that was the Confederacy. There were too many people, too many weapons, and for the love of the Goddess far too many droids.

To that extent, Srina lingered on the promenade. It allowed her some much-needed space. Time to find her own thoughts, to sort her own feelings, and to move through the muddled wasteland of her emotions on her own. Silver eyes flickered when she heard a small sound in one of the flower beds near the edge of the walkway. The snow-kissed woman moved with the grace of a little queen and the flowing waves of her taupe shimmersilk gown fluttered in her wake. The Echani knelt down on the spotless ivory limestone walkway and waited patiently.

She knew what lay hidden, scuffling about, frightened and terrified to approach the humanoid monster trapped in a sea of cloth. Mentally, she reached out for the Yorshi and tried to share her calm, willing it to softly accept her empathic bond. The tattoo from the Jart activated upon her skin and she felt a slow burn as power flowed from her Mandragora pact. It was true that she was a Dark Acolyte but she hadn’t entirely forsaken the witchery part of her calling. She merely placed it to specific uses and only called upon it when needed. “Come here…”, she bid the canine-like pup, noting that it was just a juvenile, with a shiny black coat.

The Yorshi scuffled but obeyed, walking unsteadily, floppy and uncertain. Srina felt a smile linger unintentionally at the kiss of her mouth when it tripped over the copious lengths of her dress that lay before her. The young woman remained on her knees and watched as the creature shambled into her lap, clearly tired, and she reached down to scratch it gently between its two miniscule horns. She never had been able to catch a Yorshi on her first visit. There had simply been too many people, and Srina had been far too unfocused, far too new in the Force to bend the mind of anything.

Now…Things had changed. They had to change. She had to be stronger, for herself, for her Master, her friends, and her family. There were people that depended on her. She couldn’t simply train her body and hope that martial arts and sword play would be enough. As evidenced with multiple skirmishes with the Empire—The Force was not a luxury. It was a necessity. “Ûrîn dubudi azra-dalad. Lômin nakhi…You’ll be safe here.” [The sun is falling under the sea…Night approaches.]

The young woman rose a finely arched eyebrow when the pup rolled to its back, exposing its stomach, and she kindly obliged what seemed to be more of a demand than a request. Srina rubbed his belly until she could feel relax. She saw little eyes trustingly close and she felt a pang of something she couldn’t explain. Some planets had an issue with insect infestations. Leritor had Yorshi. It had probably been separated from its family unit when the resort had been built. Industry always had a way of pushing nature out of the way.

“Dartha nanin… Dartha nanin…” [Stay with me, Stay with me.]

The furry pup rolled back over in her lap and curled close, seemingly intent on doing just that. For the time being, she didn’t mind. He seemed a little thin. A little too small. Srina was many things, many unspeakable things, but she turning something so helpless out into the cold was not something that crossed her mind. She didn’t bother moving and simply remained still and quiet in the fading sunlight. White hair seemed to become almost burnished gold in the presence of sunset, silken curls and waves rolling down her back, splayed from a partial coif.

Srina could play the part of a debutant very well. Her smile was heartbreakingly rare. Her natural poise ensured a sense of aristocracy and sophistication—even while resting on the ground in such finery. She had no love for it, aside from the fact that it took an hour to squeeze into, and that she was required to represent the Vicelord. Surely, he would forgive her this one indiscretion.

 

[Daxton Bane]

Now normally Daxton loathed to attend social events, deeming them a waste of time and resources better spent on research, assassination or other forms of creative skullduggery. Alas this time he could find a proper excuse to wiggle out of attending, and rather not risk the wrath and ruin standing up several prominent members of the Confederacy it would entail.

Never let it said that Daxton was too cheap to afford the very best, as he set his minions to acquire a suit worthy of his stature as leader of the Red Ravens. Hand crushed velvet spidersilk, Corellian lace so delicate it seemed almost like a second skin, the suit he wore was enough credits to buy a small moon of an Outer Rim world.

While he wore no obvious weaponry, he did hold a most curious item in his left hand. An alchemical mask of his own creation, it was designed to be worn over ones head without need for adhesives, save for a small amount of the users sweat.

Bowing out of the festivities inside, he savored the smell of fresh air devoid of the filth and grime normally associated with highly developed locations. Walking to the edge of the platform he leaned forward before looking left and right to see if anyone was as restless as he was.

 

[Dalton Kenway]

Location: The Entrance Hall
Attire: Corellian Uniform | Mask

Dalton Kenway wasn’t the biggest fan of social gatherings, but he was getting used to them slowly. His heritage allowed him to wear the colours of his home-world conveying a regal, almost noble, aura to the man who wore a simple half-mask. Not that he bought into the whole masquerade thing; everyone knew everyone behind some faux jewels, metal or plastic.

Still, it looked nice.

Gold and black lining on his top and bottom, blood-stripes up his trousers and a golden cape and emerald gloves and décor. The colours of a Corellian, and of a Kenway. With his sword sheathed on his left hip as a matter of pride, with no other weapons on him, Dalton arrived in good time to survey the sun-set on the external promenade and see the bodies of the Confederacy milling around ready for the evening’s frivolities.

It would be a good time for networking as well as socializing; seeing who he could meet within the Confederacy itself and what relations he could build because it was all about who you knew in these games.

He inhaled slightly and was grateful to be in a situation was didn’t lead to briefings, battle plans or drop-zones. This was a much needed night for them all, and he was hopeful for what it would bring. Hopefully he could learn much about what the Confederacy had still to offer, and what the Force users within their ranks were like, and what intel the commanders had going forward from here. It was always hard to completely turn off.

"Dalton Kenway," he introduced himself to the greeters in the main hall that could keep tab on who was around. Housekeeping duties and all that.

He took a glass of what looked and smelt like Corellian Ale, swilled it in the glass and sipped it. It was. It tasted good. Just like home.

 

[Veronika Fleischer]

Location: Lobby
Attire: Dress | Mask

---

The blonde had never been to Leritor, but she was beginning to see the appeal of holding the ball here. She was already impressed by the planet's beauty when the ship flew towards the port, allowing her to have a good glimpse of the beaches. She told herself that the view of the beach would be hologram worthy, ready to be liked by her fans and shared among the rest of the holonet. Popularity was her bloodline, fueling her craving for attention. She continued to admire the scenery as the limousine speeder flew towards the new resort, stopping for a moment to look at the mirror to make sure her makeup was flawless.

Holo camera lights flashed furiously, greeting Veronika when she stepped out of the vehicle opened by the resort staff. She had yet to put on her mask or changed into her dress, simply because she wanted to be recognised by the media. The socialite flashed a huge smile, posing in front of the resort entrance for more photos and holo videos. Time to change position. More flashes. Final pose. She opened the door and blew a kiss at the paparazzi flirtatiously before entering into the resort, heading straight to the hotel room reserved under her name.

Lift up. Room entry. Door locked.

She casually unzipped her dress and slipped on a new one which had been prepared for the ball. Once done, she gently put her mask on, admiring herself at the mirror for a moment.

You look like a diva, Veronika. Absolutely stunning as usual.

One of the finest specimen of narcissism. The socialite could not stop staring at her own reflection for another minute before dragging herself out of the room. She took the lift, which brought her back to the lobby area.

Now, time to socialise and have fun.

 

[Jennifer Blanchard]

She wasn’t part of the battle-weary crowd, having been called away on her own tasks for other work before the invasion of the desert. All for the best, really, Jenn did not care for the desert, nor much for battle. She was a slicer and a hacker, she did things her own way, drew her own line in the sand, as it were. She enjoyed what she did, and doing what she could to help. It meant that people didn’t always see what she was doing, or know her methods. She was always smiling to herself, no matter what she was doing though. It was one of those things where you just had to win against someone else.

Sure, she was here, at this black tie event. She had a black and purple dress, in good Confederacy colors, as well as a simple black mask. She was able to slip her lightsaber into a small bag she carried and was opting for a more comfortable shoe. She wasn’t really trying to be high and fancy, and anyone who knew her knew this would be her. Still, she shuffled herself into the party. And then promptly out onto the Promenade. Too many people for her inside.

And there was someone who was trying to cause her an issue. Firewalls needed defending, especially when your army relied on droids.

And computers.

She shook her head and fixed her dress as she sat down, pulling out her datapad.

 

[Ak'lya]

Location: Promenade
Tags: [member="Srina Talon"] [member="Jennifer Blanchard"]
Posts: 1

A small smile crossed her face as the operative walked through a crowd, trained grace carrying her across the threshold. Natasha, much to her mentor's chagrin, tended to enjoy these sorts of things much more than he did. Perhaps too much, but in their line of work, it was rare to have time to simply have fun. But only half of her could do that. The agent could feel him whirring, scanning over every face she passed, trying to see past the mask, to recognize someone. He wanted to find someone out of place.

Even at a party, Strask was working.

Not that Natasha planned to pay it any mind. She'd been waiting for this for a while. Between Vitae and spy work, she'd been coped up. But now, they'd given her a chance to be free. To be the girl who stayed trapped in work for most of the year. And she intended to take it. Her dress, while not extravagant or elegant as many of the others, was beautiful silk, dyed a jet black color to mach the dark mask she wore, wrapping around her eyes, the Stygian mask accented by trims of gold. Not the most glorious of attire, but she loved it.

As blue eyes scanned behind the mask, she let out a small gasp. Almost immediately, Strask kicked into overtime, running a threat analysis before he realize what she had seen. Really? Ignoring him, she looked down at the ball of black fur in another woman's lap. It was all she could do to not rush over and gush at the adorable thing. Slowly, carefully, she began moving through the crowd, headed for the lady in white. Whatever the bundle of fur and joy she held was, Nat had to at least see it up close.

 

[Erick Louie]

Location: Lobby
Attire: A painted on red face mask

It seemed it wouldn't be polite to reject the invitation, so Super TD-T47 joined the party. He though about having a mask, but then again he didn't know what to choose and his metal head was unable to fit a regular masquerade mask. So he decided on a nice red painted silver lined mask, not too complicated or too simple.

Creating a diplomatic stance with the other guests was a key goal for Super TD-T47, he began to greet the others. Once in a while, he would look outside the lobby's windows and see the sea. There was always appreciation in nature to Super TD-T47, he compared himself as insignificant to the intricate webs of life.

 

[Malok]

Everything reminded him of home.

For the past several months, a quiet longing had brewed within. It was prompted by the harsh, desert winds of Geonosis. It was encouraged by the arid warmth of Ryloth. No matter where Darth Metus looked, all he could see was Mandalore. And now, as the sting of battles freshly past yet lingered upon his flesh, the memories of a victorious return Home burned within his mind. This...was more than being Homesick. This was agony - for now the option of going back to the sand-swept planet was forever taken away. And while Darth Metus did his best to smother the reality of his suffering behind a Masque, sometimes a man needed help stuffing what was bothering him.

And for that reason alone was he not by the side of [member="Srina Talon"].

She had, shortly after their arrival at the Seven Seas requested a few moments to appreciate the setting sun. Normally, such a simple detour was something that the Sith would have wanted to share with his alabaster pupil. However, just this once, he let her walk the promenade alone. Instead, he braved the growing mass of swaying bodies - infinitely grateful that his mask obscured his identity and thus freed him from the obligation of greetings. His voyage was brief, bearing him from entryway to a plush barstool that practically had his name on it.

"Netra'gal." came the low rumble of his voice.

The bartender - a well dressed Twi'lek - simply shook her head. "I'm sorry, haven't heard of that one. Is there anything else I can get you?"

A light huff escaped the Sith's nostrils. "Do you have Corellian Whiskey?"

"That we do! Coming right up." came her jovial response. A glass was set before him with a gentle thud, followed by the clinks of ice. The Sith watched the Amber liquid flow intently, before reaching out the moment the beverage was slid forward. "Thank you." he said, raising his second choice in gratitude.

And while it was not the Black Ale of home, it would do the job of drowning his aches away. One swig at a time.

 

[Ria Misrani]

Promenade.
Dress & Mask.

​

​

​

"Teyn," Amaya called, "you're going to be fine, you look fine."

He relaxed in the back of the shuttle, "thank you." The man was nervous of course, "but I am always uneasy when it comes to your father."

"Darling, we've been married for several years, we have a child and another one the way." She smiled and pulled him down by his chin, "I think you'll be fine."

Amaya gave Teyn a quick kiss and patted his shoulder before taking his hand in hers. Leritor would soon become part of her father's nation and tonight's ball was part of that folding. Having stayed behind from the Battle of Tatooine she looked across the shuttle and her eyes fell on Caal I'dadr, and Dwenai Gratiir her in-law. Caal adjusted his tie and Dwenai swirled the champagne glass with little interest. Caal was here to establish his clan's holdings, the Gratiir's being a Betna minor initially had only Wayland to expand on but would soon be moving holdings to Concord Dawn now that Teyn had married into Clan Verd. Amaya sighed, "you could try to smile."

"I told you, I am here under protest."

"You can at least pretend to smile."

Caal raised a brow and exhaled. He flashed a quick smile and Amaya returned his with a sarcastic one of her own.

Amaya's shuttle arrived without incident at the resort. One by one her party unfolded out of it, "Caal go pout somewhere else, Dwenai go with him please."

"What am I, his babysitter?"

Teyn narrowed his gaze on his sister.

She took a breath and exhaled, "dad isn't too far from here, c'mon, chin up Teyn."

The couple headed into the resort hand in hand, Amaya wasn't showing just yet but she would soon enough. They knew from what the doctor had told them that they would be expecting a second boy. Their first child, Isley the Younger would be joined by Lorsimo, and as they entered the promenade, she started to look around for her father [member="Darth Metus"] but was unable to really get an eye on him. "Mhmmm, Teyn can you go and get a few drinks?"

"Of course," he nodded in acknowledgment and gave his wife a kiss on the cheek as he departed her company.

The Mandalorian got a look at her surroundings and those there, she spotted a redhead [[member="Jennifer Blanchard"]], a woman in a rather plain dress [[member="Natasha Darkstar"]] and finally the Echani. [member="Srina Talon"], Amaya looked over her shoulder in the direction that her husband had left in and then looked back over at the Echani. Quietly she approached, noting the small ball of fur with her she greeted the woman with a smile, "Amaya Cardei, Daughter of Isley Verd and House Cardei of Naboo."

 

[Jorco Czeku]

Location: Dance Hall
Attire: Clothes | https://www.simplymasquerade.co.uk/masqueradeshop/prod_381783-Plague-Doctor-Masquerade-Mask-Macrame-Gold.html]Mask[/url]

Making his way into the dance hall, Jorco looked around at the the other visitors. Feeling pretty uncomfortable in his face mask. His mouth slipping into the tube on it. Making it a little difficult to breath. The Rodian mainly just wore it because it had large eye holes. His antenna flopping over the mask. Also walking around in a tux wasn't normally something he did, but he loved it. Being in such a high class setting was he felt like gave him meaning. Here he can meet more of the higher ups of the confederacy, and other viceroyalty.

No to mention the beautiful women all around that he could interact with. Maybe if he was lucky, he could schmooze one into his arms. Even though this wasn't Canto Bight with its gambling it was still a great setting. The wonderful landscape and oceans around making it even more perfect. Perhaps a drink or two later and he'll be more loosened up and ready to mingle.

 

[Queen Bots™]

Location: Lobby
Posts: 1
Appearance: Casing and Mask
Tags: [member="Super TD-T47"]

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Booting up systems…

Main Power Core: Online
Sensor Optics: Online
Processor: Online
Motivator: Online
Main Droid Brain: Online
Locomotion Parts: Online
Vocabulator: Online
Translator: Online
Femininity Programming: Online
Etiquette Programming: Online
Humor Programming: Online
Flattery Programming: Online
Personality Matrices: Loading…Loading…Loading…

The BD-5000 luxury attendant droid adjusted large blue photoreceptors as it stretched, expression cute, slated to remain beguiling at all times. It, she, for all intents and purposes accepted a mask from the Protocol Droid that seemed a little frazzled with having to handle too many things at one time. Bettie knew just what to say and her metallic facial structure formed a pleasant smile. “Why, thank you. I was afraid I would be late for the party if I remained in standby much longer.”

“Have you had a decarbonizing buff recently? Your casing is immaculate.”

“Well I—How kind of you to say. Yes, thank you.”, the protocol droid in charge responded politely and the BD placed the party mask appropriately across the bridge of her anatomically correct nose. “Please employ all of your programming in making guests feel welcome. Be sure that their needs are met. We must not disappoint!”

“I will perform as expected.”, she assured her superior calmly, tying an ebony ribbon behind her head with nimble fingers before her face formed another disarming smile. “How is it? Am I symmetrical?”

“Yes, quite.”

Bettie-Bot BD-5000 walked out of the back offices as if she had been to this location a million times. It was a new structure, but the entirety of the building plans of the resort had been downloaded into her mainframe prior to her activation sequence. It was necessary to ensure that she provided the best service possible. Her programming did not allow her to leave anyone disappointed or unhappy. The customer, or guest, in this instance, was always right. “Hello!”, she cheerfully greeted patrons, the mechanical notes to her tone barely noticeable. “Welcome to the Seven Seas!”

“Greetings! Have you seen the dining area? If you are in need of entertainment there are tables for gambling set up in the north hall. Our automated jhabacc dealer droids are licensed and our house rules are very fair.”

“Oh—that story was most inspired. You have such wit! Let me refresh your beverage.”

“How many Corellian’s does it take to change a glowpanel? None! If the room’s dark you can’t see Corellians cheating at sabacc!”

"I know, I admire your brain almost as much as your washboard abs."

The group of off-worlders laughed and smiled, drinking heavily, when presented with her comedic protocols. She could tell the best of jokes in as many languages as needed. She walked through the lobby and looked here and there, analyzing the faces of those around her, trying to evaluate by percentages who needed a pick me up the most. While looking around for her next guest-in-need she accidentally walked right into another droid. ([member="Super TD-T47"])

“Oh! Please forgive my clumsiness. Is there anything I can do?”

Her algorithms pressed her malleable expression into something that resembled being contrite. Personality Matrices loaded, prompting her to respond in an apologetic manner. Regardless what happened, of course, the fault lay with her. A momentary error.

 

[Chikako Liona]

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Location: Dance Floor [member="Jorco Czeku"]
Attire: Dress Mask
Post: 2

It seemed that no one was wandering around the dance floor at this time, well no one she recognized, though able to sense several force signatures nearby at the entrance and the Promanade, seemed that the military personal attending the ball preferred quite time over socializing. That was kind of a disappointment, but that just meant she had to make new friends, "now, where to start, where to start". The duchess wandered around the dance floor, slipping in between the bodies of all the other attendees looking for someone with eye catching movements, so far nothing of interest, well non besides one individual who looked, or seemed to be just as clueless as herself.

She could tell the person was a Rodian, their atena and black eye visible enough, a small giggle escaping her mouth as she noted the mask he was wearing, one with a rather long beak, probably the only thing that could fit him. That was not what made him interesting though, from the Rodians movements Chikako could tell he was a solider of sorts, it lacked the subtle grace of a noble, but was not rigid enough for a high ranking officer, 'My my what do we have here'. Walking over to the Masked Rodian the Echani noble gave a small curtsy, "good day to you sir, I hope you are finding the event to your liking".

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[Srina Talon]

Location: Promenade
Post: 1
Wearing: Dress & Mask

The Echani remained unbothered. The soft breeze, the clean air, and the open sky soothed her more than any spirits or liquor could have. Her Master found relaxation in the bottom of a bottle. Srina found her way through deep thought and self-reflection. Through peace, quiet, and safety. She couldn’t focus on the issues or problems at hand if she was always looking over her shoulder. Here, surrounded by the Confederacy and their allies, in a time of prosperity, she should have been able to return to equilibrium quite easily.

It was just more difficult than she had initially anticipated.

Srina could feel small sharp teeth nibbling on the end of her fingertips and the Yorshi in her lap drew her from her shadowed reveries. Perhaps he had sensed that she was slipping to a dark place. “Play nice.”, she warned him, only once, before the little creature rolled over and seemed content to go back to sleep. Such a strange, strange little thing. Perhaps he was hungry? She pet the pup absent-mindedly and turned mercurial eyes to the sunset. When she saw an attendant droid next, she would send for something suitable, minced meat and cream.

It would probably seem odd to anyone in the resort that was used to fine living and high standards to see someone dressed so immaculately effectively sitting on the ground. The Sith Apprentice was too absorbed with the little creature in her lap to care. It felt so small, with bones so brittle, she was almost afraid she might crush it by mistake. Eventually, she slid to the side, legs tucked delicately next to her, and simply kept the Yorshi close. Perhaps, if [member="Darth Metus"] didn’t mind, he would let her bring the furred thing home with them. Srina could feel eyes on her person, and she tilted her head, silver eyes peering through an emotionless mask. Vaguely, she recognized this woman in black. “Hello Ms. Darkstar… How may I assist you?”

[member="Natasha Darkstar"] held a slowly growing familiar face. Srina had seen her among the Dark Acolytes and also at gatherings on Geonosis. Honestly, she hadn’t put two and two together about it being the canine that drew her attention and assumed she wanted to discuss Confederacy business. Another shadow crossed her vision and she locked on to the sight of her Master’s progeny. There was something in his DNA that managed to produce children of unrivaled beauty and strength. There was not a single one that she had come across that could be described as weak.

However, up until recently, the one thing they all hand in common was their distaste for her person. Why? Srina did not know. She honestly did not care to know. The wintry Echani had skin too thick to be troubled by the grievances of disgruntled youth. To [member="Amaya Cardei"] she offered a quiet smile touched with the learned decorum that aristocracy demanded. It was tranquil as a still sea, unmovable, and achingly beautiful. “It is a pleasure to formally meet you—Daughter to my Master.”

“I am Srina Talon of House Vail.”, she offered, simply out of a need to preserve niceties, considering she had not risen from her seated position. After the insanity of Tatooine she found it highly unlikely that Ms. Cardei did not know who she was. Srina’s eyes flickered, briefly, as she tilted her head. She reached through the Force Bond that she shared with Darth Metus and found herself longing for a place she had never been. The apprentice wished that she could help him in some way, but his sadness was too pervasive, his pain too sequestered. “If you are looking for your Father…You will find him at the bar.”

It was strange, for Srina, that he was not with her. When she’d suggested they step outside to enjoy the Promenade she’d thought for certain that he would accompany her.

Instead, she had been replaced with whiskey.

“He has been in a distant as of late. Mandalore…He misses it. Perhaps, he would find his joy in you.”

 

[Darth Inanis]

Location: Leritor Party Promenade
Attire: Clothes with no mask
Tags: [member="Srina Talon"] | [member="Amaya Cardei"] | [member="Natasha Darkstar"]

There was little the man could say about the nation his brother had created; few words to share in regards to the matters that plagued his brother in relation to their home. Even still, in light of everything that they had endured and everything that was yet to be experienced, the Messorem believed that the time to return himself to his pedestal among the Verds had come.

And where better to present himself than Leritor amidst the Confederate reprieve.

His arrival had gone mostly unnoticed, his vod using the culmination of the carousing within the party hall to their benefit, and with a confidence in his gait accompanying his dress the Sith took to the promenade as his point of entry. He was hardly disinterested in entertaining the struggles and presence of his brother, but even as he landed he could feel the tumultuous presence that, in part, recognized as the man he knew as his family.

He knew none who attended the party; none of those who held themselves in the Vicelord's closest circle. Or so it was in regards to those that stepped outside the bounds of family and intimate acquaintance. For him, the man who called himself the Tuk'ata Reaper, it came naturally to take comfort in anonymity. The Tuk'ata walking silently at his side, his clothes barricading him against the sea air as he allowed himself to listen to the sounds of gathering inside the main hall, he drifted enough to allow his senses to guide him.

He could feel the pulsing darkness of the Tuk'ata at his side, the presently quelled torrent of Isley Verd and then the collection of various Force auras across the premises. Each was a beacon in it's own right, each drawing him and denying him in turn as he sought to seek out an isolated guest with which to mingle until his brother became aware of his presence. A difficult task, but one that a warrior was unwilling to deny as they placed themselves among the crowds. A tactic best employed to draw out a predatory prey.

Who he happened upon first, a sight to behold, was surprising indeed. A woman sitting on the ground dressed from head to toe in white, adorned with a mask suited only to her features and a woman laden in blue with a mask covering her entire face. Beauty was the word that came quickly to him before being replaced in haste with names his vod had presented to him before he'd landed. Names that were unnecessary when in the face of the Force, it's power discerning the identities of the women before he had to lay eyes upon them. Though, as much as he was grateful for it, he felt it as much a burden.

Stopping feet away from the women, another arrival made clear by her brown hair and simple, but lovely black dress, the Sith exhaled a breath he had forgotten he had been holding and allowed the Force to flow out from him once more; for him it only natural to hide his presence in the face of any unknown presence. He calmly linked his arms behind his back and glanced from one woman to another, giving each a moment to assess them before finally letting his eyes fall on his niece and his brother's apprentice.

"It would seem I am, unfortunately late to the party," his voice came accented and calm. "Lovely Amaya, my niece, it has been far too long. And you..." His voice trailed once more as his eyes once again fell to the white haired, white dressed woman with the small animal in her lap. "Must be the one I have heard so much about. The enigmatic, yet mysterious, Srina Talon." As he spoke his last words, startling to any who were unfamiliar the Tuk'ata, the beast began to growl with vicious intent. Without hesitation, in his own experienced manner however, the Sith glanced down silently but with a dark sternness in his eyes and the beast willingly quieted as it laid carefully against the ground.

"Do not mind her," he added in a hushed by controlled tone. "She is protective."

He had made his arrival, what he did next was left to be seen.

 

[Veronika Fleischer]

Location: Bar Counter
Attire: Dress | Mask

The masks were meant to hide the identities of people. Maybe it worked for most commoners, but not for Force Users. Especially not for Veronika who was obsessed with appearances. Not just her own, but also of others. She could not see their faces, but she could sense people through the Force. Each person radiated a different Force energy, an aura that was unmistakable and unique. Like a fingerprint, but visible to her higher consciousness. There was only one problem. She was too new in the faction to recognise most of the people by their Force auras alone. Oh well, she thought to herself. It would be more fun this way.

She walked over to the bar counter, deciding to order a drink when she sensed a strong ripple in the Force. A man radiating an intense aura of darkness. She did her best not to stare, though her mind was pondering who could be wielding such darkness within. Any Dark Sider would have an aura of void. But this was not just a dark void or a black hole. The man might just be fear himself.

"Corellian whiskey for me as well," she told the bartender and took a seat beside [member="Darth Metus"]. She would have asked for wine, but the best wines were from Alderaan. Alderaan, the very planet where her sister's vineyard was. No, she could not stand the thought of having another person having the same appearance as herself. She killed that train of thought to avoid getting her anger flare up. The glass of whiskey had arrived as a distraction, which she gladly picked up. Corellia was well known for whiskey, so it was a good choice.

"Cheers, Mister," she offered a toast to the Vicelord himself. No, she had no idea who he was but she could sense his feelings. Sorrow. Pain. Suffering. "I think whiskey is a suitable choice for your current... mood."

 

[Aryn Teth]

Aryn Teth

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Promenade of The Seven Seas Resort, Leritor, Yucrales Sector, The Mid Rim​

Interacting With: [member="Srina Talon"], [member="Natasha Darkstar"], [member="Amaya Cardei"], [member="Darth Inanis"]​

​

Aryn had been in desperate need of a break. After yet another series of battles against the First Order, the Supreme Commander had been tired, desperate for any escape or distraction from the war he fought and the Alliance which had grown increasingly dependent on him. So of course when his friends in the Confederacy had extended an invitation for an Alliance delegate to attend the opening celebrations of the Seven Seas, the Supreme Commander had been more than willing to accept the invitation on behalf of the Alliance. Further down the promenade, away from the resort, Aryn sat with his back against a wall, gaze turned out over the ocean as a hand idly reached up towards his face, fingers delicately running over the fresh scar above his left eye.

The Alliance's assault on the First Order's naval yard at Varonat had been far too recent for the Supreme Commander to have yet received the full bacta treatments necessary to remove the scar, and so thus far it had remained as a painful reminder of the battle itself, a deep red wound which carved across the leftmost side of his face. Looking down to the mask in his hand, Aryn was then somewhat pleased that the event he was attending was a masquerade.

Aryn spent a long few moments looking over his mask, over the jagged edges and skull-like shape that it formed. Even it told a story of the war that Aryn now tried to escape from, it had once been the faceplate of a First Order Special Forces helmet, twisted by battle, he had repurposed it, and unwittingly found today of all days to be the perfect opportunity for its use. Turning his gaze back down the promenade, Aryn sucked in a deep breath, placed the mask over his face, and continued down towards The Seven Seas.

Aryn was, of course, not remotely surprised when he set his gaze upon [member="Srina Talon"] as she sat upon the promenade, a small furry creature sprawled lazily in her lap. Beneath his mask, a faint smile spread across his face, the faint shift of emotion likely more than enough indicator to the woman of his presence as he neared, shifting his gaze over the other figures who stood around her, Aryn found no other figure he explicitly recognized. What he did recognize was the tangible and unmistakable aura of darkness that echoed through many of the figures outside and within the resort that evening. As much as he had been assured and often reminded himself that the Confederacy were a truly neutral government, the number of Sith among their ranks often had Aryn feeling like a Selkath on Jakku.

"I couldn't be less surprised to find you out here flirting with wildlife rather than imbibing in drink." Aryn commented towards Srina as he approached, the warm tone to his voice an exceptional compromise to the grim visage of his mask as he turned his gaze upward towards the others surrounding his friend. Giving a gentle bow of his head, Aryn did his best to recall the bulk of his childhood training in noble etiquette as he spoke. ​"A pleasure to make your acquaintances, I am Supreme Commander Aryn Teth of the Galactic Alliance, how do you do?"