Faction Sith Holy World Tour [SO]

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Korriban
Interacting with: Lysander von Ascania

Sibylla stared at her reflection in the mirror, her fingers brushing absentmindedly over the dark navy fabric of her dress. It was sleek and chic, the sort of thing she'd wear to a casual diplomatic dinner -- certainly not to Korriban, and definitely not to a concert. Not the sort of concert one could even pretend to have any political decorum for.

She let out a sigh, adjusting the black cowl that obscured her hair, trying to at least appear like she belonged in the dust choked streets of Dreshdae.

Yet here she was on Korriban, because she had been worried. About Lysander.

At first, Sibylla had thought their latest quips via text was all in good fun, only to realize that Lysander was taking too long to reply to her last remark. When he didn't reply by the time she finished a meeting with Senator Sarn on the newly voted senator of Vendaxa several hours later, Sibylla frowned. Not that Lysander had to respond right away, but when he didn't even quip back when she asked if he survived his poison brew, there was cause for concern. Needless to say, the uncertainty of fully knowing what the Ukatian Padawan was getting himself into, along with the scattered bits of references of Korriban, Academies, and self-discovery in the desert made her wonder just how dangerous a situation Lysander was placing himself in. Prudence told Sibylla that she should wait and see what was going on.

However, as the hours passed, it seemed that no matter how hard she tried to stay focused on her duties of finding a solution for the trade regulation issues regarding the Black Wall or liaising with House Abrantes contacts on potential alliances, she couldn't ignore the nagging feeling about Lysander's antics. And by the time she'd received his message confirming that he was, indeed, still alive despite poison studies and a wrathful teacher twenty-four hours later, she had already made her way through a tangle of connections, inquiries, and polite yet pointed questions trying to ascertain if he was okay. Eventually, her concern gave way to even attempting to inquire with Lysander's Padawan companion Cerys Dyn ... but that seemingly turned into a dead end, unaware that the Togruta had come to Korriban herself.

Sibylla sighed again, this time at the absurdity of the entire situation. Her original plan had been simple; go, see Lysander, make sure he wasn't in any immediate danger, and then leave with enough information to report back to her family and colleagues regarding her original tour. Instead, she had found herself trying to figure out if her outfit allowed her to blend in. Lysander likely will have commentary on it regardless.

A second later, her attention fell, drawing her from her internal musing, her hand hovering over the chronowatch buzzing on her wrist. Despite her mild annoyance, she couldn't help the way a wave of relief filled her. Lysander.

So he was still alive.

She could already imagine his smirk, that infuriatingly confident attitude of his. He was lucky she didn't give him an earful then. Things with Lysander seemed more elusive daily, and in the wake of everything, she knew she had to pin him down face to face to discuss. It wasn't something one did over comm or text.

Her fingers danced over the screen and typed out a quick response.

Officially made it, you say? Where exactly does 'officially made it' mean on a holographic map?​

​

The quiet satisfaction of her well-aimed quips settled over her, but it did little to settle the churning uncertainty in her mind. She had duties to attend to, and yet, here she was on Korriban, standing in a barely acceptable outfit, on a barely acceptable mission, chasing down Lysander for reasons that felt increasingly more like personal folly than professional duty.

Now, the question was, how did she even get to where she'd be able to meet him? Much less, without the hovering guard that her brother Cassian Abrantes had assigned to her.

 

[Persephone Dashiell]

DROMUND KAAS

Arriving with a friend didn't go as planned.

Was Persephone going to waste a perfectly good musical festival outfit? No, not at all.

As a result, she was now alone. Beyond her security droid, Zee, she didn't have a clue as to anyone in attendance. Yet she was putting herself out there. Quite literally bought the shirt from the merch booth. This being her very first festival, she didn't know how to take it. A few years ago Persephone could have envisioned herself getting into all sorts of trouble. Sneaking backstage. Sneaking alcohol.

Didn't seem like her anymore. Frankly she didn't know who she really was anymore. Not that an epiphany was going to occur at a music festival on a Sith holy world.

Looking around, she shoved her hands into her pockets and joined the massive line for a massively overpriced bottle of water.

Tags : OPEN​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Show #2: Korriban - City of Dreshdae
Sibylla Abrantes | Haro Aven | Cerys Dyn
​

Approaching the entrance gates, Lysander felt the buzz of his datapad. He exhaled softly, not surprised one bit to see Haro's name light up the screen. A small smile ghosted across his lips; his admiration for the other Derriphan student had been steadily growing, and he was still thoroughly impressed by a recent creation— the Dune Striker.

The acolyte’s thumbs moved quickly to tap a reply:

Yeah bro, I’m just about to be head inside. I’ll find you.

Just as he slid the device back into a pocket, it buzzed once more— this time from Sibylla. The anticipated quip drew a furrow to his brows, along with a shake of his head. It was an all too familiar dance; their banter served as an anchor since he first stepped foot on this planet.

Another message was crafted:

Well Sib, events such as these typically have someone you give a ticket to at the entrance, so that would be a good start, no? I’ll inform the handsome Rodian that you’re coming. I’m certain he’ll treat you well. It will be impossible to miss me once you’re inside. Hint: I’m most likely the only blonde in the crowd.

There was something else unmistakable in her message: irritation. He’d read enough of them over time to recognize it.

Stepping up to the guard, a smirk appeared; it was one honed through years of deflection, and just the right amount of wit to get him out of trouble. Or, at times, into trouble as well. From where he currently stood, the venue’s energy was felt thrumming in the air.

Drawing in another breath, he leaned into something different, the type of finesse learned from courtly politics back on Ukatis, but rarely used now.

Both tickets were conjured in a fluid motion, rolling them between his fingers and wasting no time placing them in the green reptilian-like hands.

“In a short while,” he began, lowering his voice slightly. “There will be a young woman named Sibylla arriving. And I should warn you now, she is far too graceful for a place like this.”

He watched a flicker of red scan over the tickets.

A short pause followed.

Then, a knowing glance.

“I’m sure she’ll ask for entry, with the poise of a senator, and the frustration of someone who’s had to chase me down. Easy to recognize, really. Just as Korriban itself, she's breathtaking and untouchable.. an enigma wrapped in elegance.”

For a moment, his composure softened, clearly lingering on the thought longer than expected.

Something real threatened to slip through the mask.

His gaze met the guard’s one final time. “If I were you, I’d let her in without any fuss. Trust me, it’ll spare you a lecture you might not be quite prepared for. Honestly, I don’t want to hear it either.”

And just like that, a step was taken back, offering a wink, and disappearing into the crowd before the guard ever had the chance to reply.

Luckily, the search didn't take long before he spotted him— a half-Kage boy who carried himself with an effortless charm. Lysander's expression instantly lit up. Their rapport was quickly growing, the connection going beyond just being from the same House at Kor'ethyr Academy, but also sharing a deep fondness for music. And even cooler? They'd become smoking buddies.

“Haro!” he called out, smile brightening. "It's good to see you," A hand slipped effortlessly into the pocket of his leather jacket. “That eyeliner you’ve got on is only going to make it harder for the girls to look away now. It's like you’re ready to be the star of the album we’ve been discussing.” Laughter bubbled forth, obviously referring to the band the two of them and a couple other acolytes were slowly putting together in a garage.

As the words tumbled from his mouth, he flicked a lighter, summoning a flame to the paper’s tip. Then, taking a slow drag and holding the smoke in his lungs to savor the piney taste, he passed it across to Haro with a glance of camaraderie.

 

[Cerys Dyn]

There he was.

Cerys caught sight of Lysander just as he passed a pyre-lit column, that unmistakable tousled blonde hair illuminated in flickers of orange and crimson. Her heart flipped — not that she would admit it — and she immediately ducked further beneath her hood, keeping her posture hunched and low. The face markings she’d smudged on earlier itched slightly, but she bore it. Sith wore paint, right?

Her sharp gaze slid sideways toward the person he was with.

Dark hair. Eyeliner. Leather. A swagger that screamed “definitely does awful things with Force lightning for fun.”

That must be the Sith handler... or contact... or temptress sent to manipulate him. Or worse — a Sith date. Cerys narrowed her eyes, studying the way the two laughed together, passed something back and forth. Definitely drugs. Or a weapon. Or a Sith ritual item. Possibly all three.

She clutched the edge of her sleeve tighter, mind racing.

Lysander was undercover, right? Or maybe he was poisoned. Or maybe that was a Sith Lord in disguise next to him. Or—no. No. Stay focused. He needs rescuing. That is the only possible explanation.

Her gaze hadn't left him since. But just then, someone bumped into her from behind, jostling her enough to make her stumble.

“Oops! My bad,” the tall Mirialan woman said casually, juggling a cup of glowing green liquid and a glowing foam hand with the Tuk’ata Tears sigil. “Sick face paint though.”

Cerys froze like she'd been slapped.

She gave a stiff, delayed nod and turned away slightly, as if the praise burned her soul.

They compliment. With kindness. Before they devour your innocence.

The woman had already moved on, humming a tune that suspiciously had actual rhythm and harmony. Cerys recoiled internally. Sith. Culture. Was a lie.

She turned her attention back to Lysander.

Her jaw set.

Don’t worry. I’m coming for you. Even if you’ve clearly fallen into a cult.

OUTFIT: Discount black robe, aggressively smudged face paint, righteous indignation
TAG: Lysander von Ascania Sibylla Abrantes Haro Aven
EQUIPMENT: Old habits, cult-like Jedi training, and way too much judgment

​

 

[Varin Mortifer]

Azazel Xaphan Haro Aven Lysander von Ascania

"Helm doesn't come off, Nothing but my Goddess or the Day of Rapture will make me take it off."

.....so then how do you eat or drink? Do you liquify it and just suck it through a straw under the lip of your helmet or do you filter feed? What's the play there?

Varin shook his head to clear the distracting thoughts.

“An interesting custom I suppose. Interesting choice of added color there.” He spoke plainly to the stranger as he eyed the slight vomit stain. The conversation fell silent for a few moments and Varin shifted slightly as the line inched forward bit by bit, the silence was a bit awkward, the awkwardness sat for a bit longer until the stranger piqued a curious statement.

"You asked me why I was here. Suppose it's my turn."

Varin chuckled to himself at the statement and answered with a hint of sarcasm.

“Why, I’m here for my favorite band in the world. Tuk’ata Fears, been listening to them for a while. I just couldn’t miss this opportunity with my friends.” He smirked ever so slightly.

“No I’ve just decided to get out for a bit, join in with my crew and unwind, I gotta say your timing is very…. Funny.”

He looked at the stranger with a more serious look.

“I’m no fool, stranger, I know bad news when I see it. So let's cut the bantha chit. I have no problem at all getting you in. In fact the added company for now is rather welcoming, but I have a crew to meet after we get through security. So I will add this to our deal. Whatever your meetup is about, best make sure my crew is not caught in your group’s crossfire. I’m not privy to being caught in some random plot. If I get any wind that any chaos caused harmed my crew by your hand, I will know, I will find you and it will not be pretty for you.”

Smoke almost seemed to lightly rise out of the boy's back, just noticeable for the stranger as his eyes began to smolder like embers.

“I do hope I am clear. You have certain talents I may entertain with in the future.”

As the line moved forward the smoke from his back died down as his eyes dimmed back to his dark brown color. Just out of the corner of his eye Varin could see two of his crew mates Haro and Lysander walking by towards the influx of crowd.

Finally a familiar face

 

[Leshanna Dromar]

Haro Aven // Naamino Zuukamano​

The hyped energy surrounding Lesh was contagious, and it seemed that she wasn’t the only one affected by it, for Naamino seemed wound tight; he hardly resembled the usual stoic and serious Zabrak that he was. He was so amped up that he even playfully tackled Haro, putting the half-Kage boy into a headlock - which he quickly released so as not to mess up the rather impressive job she’d done on Haro’s hair. His infectious energy was even directed at her as he wrapped her up in his arms and pulled her in for a tight embrace.

"Damn, have you ever noticed that Haro looks kinda like the lead singer of Tears?" Naami rumbled to Lesh as he held her close, and she turned her attention to the lanky boy. Now that Naami mentioned it, she realized that Haro did resemble the lead singer - especially with the makeup and hair style she’d done on him.

“Oh! Yeah, actually! Haro is cuter, though.” she said with a playful and flirty smirk as Haro exclaimed his surprise by such statements.

Eventually, the trio reached the check-in point, where tickets were scanned and wristbands were handed out. Once clear of the line, Naami turned to both Haro and Lesh and told her to go with him to pick out some merch - a treat from him. Her eyes lit up brightly as a wide smile crossed her face.

“Really?! Anything I want?! Oh kark yeah! Oh you’re the best!” she exclaimed excitedly, turning to glance at Haro as the Zabrak asked him what he wanted too.

"Yeah, go for it! Just get me a cool T-shirt or something. I'll do some recon. Com me when you're ready to meet back up," Haro replied before he leaned down and got close to her ear and murmured: "Keep him outta trouble,"

Leshanna nodded and reached for his hand to give it a reassuring squeeze as he gave her a wink, before she released him and turned to follow Naami into the shifting crowd. She skipped up and wrapped her arm around his own, practically jumping up and down with her barely contained excitement.

“Naami! I’m so excited!! Oh! Should we like…get some food or something too while we wait for the show to start, or nah?”

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

​

Watching his friends' flirty and excited banter with a rather bemused expression, Naami felt a bloom of warmth spread through his chest as Leshanna Dromar turned toward him with such eager excitement. The horned teen gave a lazy two finger salute to his buddy Haro Aven before they parted, silently affirming the plan.

He adjusted his pace to match the girl's and grinned at her while they made their way to the merch line. How she held onto his arm and the way the churning crowd seemed to part for the pair of them made him feel like a million credits. The energy of this place was intoxicating, and the zabrak could feel the pooling of energy. It was as if the Force itself was being charged up and the massive amphitheater was like a battery.

"That's good," the warmth in his chest carried to his voice as he watched her bounce, "You deserve an awesome night."

You deserve all the best things the galaxy has to offer, he wanted to say.

Words so grandiose as that still stuck in his throat though. Anything too intense, anything that might come across as too much still seemed to tie his tongue into knots. Naami settled for slipping his arm around her waist when they reached the line, so they could muse over the choices of merch toghether. Luckily they'd arrived early enough that the line wasn't bad, which also meant he'd need to ask his question of her before too long.

"Yeah, food is a good idea for sure- think that our very own rockstar mentioned he might have a way for us to get drinks too, if we want."

In fact, Naami realized they might be able to kill two porgs with one stone and regroup without having too many side quests.

"Will you... Would you wanna run all our merch back to the speeder with me once we have it? That way it'll all be locked up safe, we can grab food when we get back and maybe Aven could grab us drinks? We can probably manage all that before the opening set."

What he didn't add and what he silently hoped for, was this plan could grant him a few precious moments of near total privacy with the beautiful girl. Naami had come a long way regarding shyness and affection, the arm he currently had around her was a testament to that. But still, the zabrak feared that he'd freeze up if they were surrounded by a crowd of strangers. Better to seek a moment of solace for what he was planning.

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Well Sib, events such as these typically have someone you give a ticket to at the entrance, so that would be a good start, no? I’ll inform the handsome Rodian that you’re coming. I’m certain he’ll treat you well. It will be impossible to miss me once you’re inside. Hint: I’m most likely the only blonde in the crowd.

Sibylla's eyes narrowed as the message lit up her comm. She couldn't help it; her lips quirked upward in a reluctant smile, though she immediately fought to suppress it.

Lysander was, as always, a mix of infuriating and amusing, like a fire that could either warm you or scorch you, depending on its mood. Her eyes flicked to the screen, reading his words a second time, a wry laugh almost escaping her lips.

She wasn't sure what annoyed her more: his ability to read her irritation so easily, or the fact that he was often right. In the time they've gotten to know each other, he learned and now knew exactly how to push her buttons, and yet, just as quickly, he could make her forget the frustration with a single smirk or the lightest touch of humor.

As she began typing her reply, a part of her wanted to be serious, wanted to remind him that she didn't need any of his snarky help. But that would be far too predictable. Instead, she shot back her own teasing remark, fingers flying across the screen.

Ah, yes. The only blonde in the crowd.
A true rarity!
I'm sure the broody aesthetic will have them swooning.
Just don't forget to keep the 'mysterious loner' act in check...
Wouldn't want to look too desperate for attention.

Her smile lingered, though there was a tinge of contemplation behind it.

Now it was time to brave the concert. She had learned long ago that appearances were everything, especially when one was trying to navigate unknown waters. She had a role to play, and she needed to keep her wits sharp.

Some time later, Sibylla stood before the Rodian bouncer, her pulse quickening ever so slightly.

It had taken some.. finangling to get away from her guard. A sedative tea. Traveling the vast desert expanse was another new adventure, the remote venue leading deep in the desert and certainly covering her in a thin layer of grime and dust.

Sibylla swore that Lysander had done this on purpose to make a point about her wardrobe choices. She wasn't used to being this covered in dust... and sand.

Silly musing aside, there was already a crowd attempting to get into the venue. She trusted Lysander's assurance at simply giving her name at the door, but the reality of stepping into this chaotic environment, this concert full of strangers, felt like something else entirely. She had faced the Senate, prepared for delicate negotiations, yet never had she felt quite so out of place.

The Rodian's eyes met hers, and she could already feel the weight of the moment. But then his gaze flickered, and it was clear: Lysander hadn't been exaggerating.

"Ticket and ID," he rasped, his beady eyes studying her for a long moment.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she suppressed the urge to squirm.

She wasn't sure whether to laugh at the situation or be thoroughly annoyed. Either way, she couldn't help but feel like the center of attention in the most inconvenient way.

So, she primly, if boldly, informed the Rodian of her name as Lysander instructed.

"My name is Sibylla. It is my understanding that my name is on the list."

The Rodian's beady black eyes looked at her face, then went down over her body, the chick dress, and then back to the cowl over her head.

He rolled his shoulders and then deactivated the holographic red barrier to let her in.

"Welcome, Sibylla to Tuk'ata Tears show."

And just like that, she stepped into the venue, the pulse of the music and the chatter of the crowd already vibrating through her, sinking deep into her bones. The air was thick with the mix of sweat, dust, booze, and smoke, the kind of scents that clung to every corner and whispered of vices both indulged and ignored.

It was nothing like anything Sibylla had ever been a part of.

She was so far out of her comfort zone that she might as well have been on another planet.

Nearby: Cerys Dyn

 

[Cerys Dyn]

There.

Cerys froze as her gaze locked onto the figure slipping through the crowd — sleek, dark, radiant in the way only someone impossibly confident could be in a place like this. The cowl fell back slightly, revealing elegant features framed in desert dust and mystique.

Sibylla.

Her breath caught, and for a moment she didn’t even realize she was holding it.

Of course.

It all made sense now, didn't it? The mysterious comm silence. The disinterest in returning to the Temple. The constant teasing, the half-smiles, the wanderlust. He wasn’t lost to the Sith... her stomach twisted. He was lured.

Her hood shadowed her face as she ducked behind a vendor's pillar, eyes still tracking them from the corner.

Was Sibylla a Sith agent? Or a secret Dathomiri Witch? Maybe she was using Sith alchemy — some seductive spellwork — to cloud Lysander’s mind. Maybe even worse… she wasn’t Sith at all. Maybe she was just better.

More beautiful. More graceful. More worldly. She probably has perfect boots and isn’t wearing discount robes covered in arena dust and existential guilt. Cerys couldn't compete with Sibylla.

And then it hit her. Compete.

She blinked. That was the word. She’d thought it. The word echoed in her skull like a misplaced lightsaber ignition. Compete...for Lysander?

Her cheeks burned under her face paint, and she staggered a step back. That wasn’t what this was supposed to be. Right?

A concertgoer jostled past, spilling a bit of fizzy red liquid from their cup. “Whoa, sorry! Love your vibe though. Straight dark acolyte realness.”

Cerys recoiled instinctively, muttering a strangled, “Thanks,” like it was a curse. The Sith just grinned and bounced off, oblivious. They compliment with cheer before they tear you apart, she reminded herself.

But it didn’t help. None of it did. Because the rot wasn’t in the crowd — it was in her. She had let herself slip. Let her feelings twist into knots. Let her training unravel around her.

Master El-Vana's voice rang somewhere in her memory: "Attachment, Cerys, is the breeding ground for confusion. And confusion is the first cut the dark makes."

Her chest ached. Not from the music. Not from the noise. From the realization that she had no idea how to carry the weight of this kind of emotion. She had to get out.

Without another glance, she pulled her hood tighter and turned, pushing her way through the crowd. No dramatic confrontation. No whispered pleas. No rescue. Lysander had made his choice. And for the sake of her path, for the sake of whatever clarity she had left — she had to make hers.

She left the concert behind, vanishing into the Korriban dusk. She wouldn't look back.

EXIT

OUTFIT: Discount robe, smeared face paint, heartbreak disguised as detachment
TAG: Lysander von Ascania Sibylla Abrantes @etc
EQUIPMENT: One broken illusion, a barely clung-to code, and too much heart

​

 

[Haro Aven]

Lysander von Ascania | Cerys Dyn | Sibylla Abrantes | Leshanna Dromar | Naamino Zuukamano | Varin Mortifer ​

Smirking at Lysander's quick response, Haro typed out a brief acknowledgement.

Rock on! See ya soon

He lifted his gaze just in time to avoid bumping into a group of three young women who all appeared to be well on their way to sloshed. One of them squealed in surprise and the other two laughed at her. Haro dodged with a smooth shuffle to the side and slipped past them, offering a tilt of his head and a sheepish smile.

"Sorry, 'scuse me, ladies," he said as he passed.

"Wait, hold'n a sec," one of three called after him, a slight slur to her words, and he turned to face them. "Where ya goin?"

The one that had squealed looked shocked by her friend's boldness and more than a little embarrassed, but she couldn't seem to keep her eyes off Haro.

Before he could answer, the last of the three spoke up. "Wanna get a drink with us?" She asked with a flirtatious smile.

"Uh," Haro began eloquently, chuckling a bit nervously as he tried to find his cool in the wake of such disarming flattery. He offered the girls his best charmed grin. "Very tempting offer, but I'm on my way to meet up with a friend. You haven't seen him, have you? Tall, blonde, looks like he belongs in a Holodrama?"

The girls giggled. "Don't think so, but he sounds cute."
"We'll be at the Jet Juice bar if you change your mind. Bring your friend."

"Good to know. Thanks for the invite." With a wink and a two finger salute, Haro took a couple steps backward before he turned and slipped deeper into the crowd. A small smirk on his face, he stood a little taller and moved with a bit more confidence, feeling all puffed up from the exchange and the flattering compliments from his friends earlier. It wasn't long before he spotted Lysander, the blonde boy's swagger and platinum blonde windswept hair was undeniable.

“Hey, Lys! Good to see you too, man. Glad you made it." Haro returned the warm greeting enthusiastically. The comments that followed about his eye liner brought out a bark of laughter.

“Hah! Hell yeah! You know it!" Haro mimed an air guitar solo then laughed along with his friend. "Lesh did good, huh? I almost lost an eye to get this look tho."

True to form, Lysander had brought a little something for them to smoke and Haro gladly accepted the little rolled up paper with a grateful nod.

“Thanks! Don't mind if I do." He too took a slow drag, glancing out at the crowd around them for a moment as he did so, the subtle sensation of being watched nagging at his senses. Low and behold, he found a petite cloaked figure at the edge of the crowd, with two pointed tips of what looked like horns beneath their hood, staring daggers at them. He opted to let his gaze pass over as if he hadn't noticed but kept them in his periphery.

"Soooo you bring a date or what?" Haro asked, passing back the smokable with a nudge and a suggestive buck of his eyebrow.​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

The bass from the music thudded in Sibylla's chest, the crowd pressing in around her, shifting and swaying in rhythm with the beat. She tried to push her way through, glancing over her shoulder again, hoping to spot Lysander von Ascania ; he was supposed to be here, wasn't he? But the sea of unfamiliar faces and flashing lights made it nearly impossible to focus, and she even missed the shrouded Cerys Dyn drawing away towards the exit herself.

Then, just as she was about to lose all patience, a hand gripped her arm, pulling her to a halt. She spun around, her heart skipping a beat, only to freeze when she saw the familiar stern face of her guard, wearing a dark cloak and plainsclothing to blend in.

"Lady Abrantes," he murmured, his voice low enough that only she could hear, "Please do not make a fuss. We must return to the ship. I cannot guarantee your safety here."

Her mind raced as she tried to jerk her arm away. "I'm fine -- "

But before she could pull free, her shoulder bumped into someone behind her. A sharp, gruff voice interrupted.

"Hey, watch it."

Sibylla stiffened and turned toward the voice, finding a Zabrak, his face a map of tattoos and piercings.

"My apologies," she muttered, taking a step back, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

The guard's grip tightened, and she noticed the growing chaos around them. The crowd seemed to pulse with energy, but there was an edge to it, something dangerous that made her skin prickle. She wasn't sure what it was, but she could feel the atmosphere shifting.

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she glanced between her guard and the exit. The idea of leaving now, being dragged out like this, made her chest tighten in frustration. But her protest faltered when she saw the worried expression on her guard's face.

Reluctantly, she gave in.

"Fine," she muttered, the words heavy in her mouth. "But I need to send a message."

The guard nodded once, his expression resolute. "Once we are out safely, you may. But please, for both our sakes, we need to get out of here."

As they made their way through the crowd, the sounds of the music faded, replaced by the rush of her own heartbeat. Each step felt like a small victory as she allowed her guard to steer her toward the exit, her mind already racing with what she would do when they were back on the ship.

And, of course, wondering where Lysander had disappeared to.

By the time they passed the exit, Sibylla was only able to briefly send an apology. Hopefully, he would understand. She had told him plenty of times that ever since Cassien set up her guard, it had been even more difficult to do things independently.

Something she'd need to discuss with Cassian about relaxing. By all accounts, she was an adult by Naboo standards. She really didn't need this sort of hovering.

Caught by my own guard and now being escorted out like some prized possession.
I'll have to leave the excitement to you.
Don't have too much fun without me, won't you?​

With that, her guard took her towards the awaiting airspeeder.

Of all the embarrassing situations to catch oneself with!

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Show #2: Korriban - City of Dreshdae

Haro Aven Sibylla Abrantes Varin Mortifer Naamino Zuukamano Leshanna Dromar
​

Amidst the throb of conversations and pulsing music, the laughter from the other Derriphan student rang out, one easily capable of ensnaring those nearby with infectious warmth. Haro’s playful energy with the air guitar was a subtle reminder of why he’d been magnetically drawn to the boy since their shared detention; surprisingly, such energy seemed absent in the Mid-Rim, where so many sought daily affirmations that bore no merit, breeding nothing but dependency instead.

A soft chuckle escaped Lysander's throat as the acolyte’s fingers instinctively grazed the sleek surface of his datapad while it buzzed against his palm.

"A worthy sacrifice, my friend," Lysander quipped.

The faint glow of another incoming message fluttered like a whisper.

Sibylla.

Though still engaged with the boy, his focus was momentarily pulled to the device. Something different stood out.

An emoji.

A smirk curled ever so slightly upon inspecting it.

Smug. Feline. Familiar. Like staring into a mirror.

It was close to the usual bite, now with a few pixels to go along, a fresh new weapon being added to their verbal sparring.

The gleam of green in the blonde's sharp gaze shifted instinctively, aligning with his friend. Yet his focus remained searching for a single target. He told himself she was close, that he wasn't chasing ghosts, that she was more than just words on a screen.

Something real.

Anticipation was heavy in his chest, coiling against the edges of the high that now settled in the boy's veins. Beyond looking and hoping, he was waiting; waiting for one glimpse of the junior representative with beauty even poets struggled to capture, as it wasn't only seen, but felt--undeniable, and more radiant than Naboo's sunrise. At least, that was how he remembered her.

But the search yielded nothing.

And then, a sharp elbow nudged him back to the present.

Gracefully, he took the rolled item with his index and thumb. Another alert from the datapad sliced through their conversation and the wisps surrounding them alike, a testament to how much power it possessed over him recently. With a single glance downwards, disappointment became a tangible force, cutting deep.

Still, the natural curve of his warm smile slowly returned. Despite the waves of emotion beneath his exterior, he felt grateful—grateful to be here, especially in good company. Much like his iron asylum buddy Naamino and his roommate Varin, he had come to realize that investing in these people was just as valuable as investing in his craft. It was more than a performance-boosting service; it was priceless. Something credits couldn't buy. And as several studies recently taught him, it would be key to unlocking the best version of himself.

“I'm afraid not. She’s always light-years away,” he finally said, voice calm. “And even if I wanted to chase her, I’m not even sure a good hyperdrive could fix it at this point.”

The smokeable was nestled between his lips while both hands took hold of the datapad. The draw was smooth and steady; smoke curled in his lungs. Euphoria seeped in, but it did not dull the acolyte’s senses; rather, it sharpened them and deepened his lingering thoughts.

Both thumbs traced over the screen, crafting the night’s final message.

At least this time, it wasn't your choice.

I imagine that still makes for a refreshing change, no? For once, someone else is deciding how far we're apart.

Rather than you making that call.

But maybe it's for the best.

Some things are easier when they're kept at a distance.

Like you've always kept me.

His attention fell back to the half-Kage's eyeliner; this time, mischief lit up the boy's expression. “Ya know,” he mused, “even if you did lose an eye pulling off the look, I bet you’d still end up the co-lead in a Holodrama.” He nudged Haro’s shoulder lightly “A mechanic with a tragic backstory, I could see that being a big hit with the ladies. You'd outshine the main character and steal every scene.”

The embers of the papers lit up, followed by another stream of smoke. There was a certain rhythm to their exchange, evident in the way he soon slid it back. "Alright, so between us." Lysander's grin turned sly. "What's the one thing about Leshanna that never fails to catch your attention? No dodging, and no lies bro. I promise I'll see right through them!"

​

 

[Leshanna Dromar]

Naamino Zuukamano // Haro Aven​

Leshanna’s grin remained on her face as she and Naami made their way into the merchline, arm in arm. His words to her, that she deserved a good night, made her feel good and if she was honest with herself, a bit spoiled. Both Naamino and Haro spoiled her now even more in their own ways - that she was complaining about that. She rather enjoyed the attention and soaked up every bit of it. It did wonders for her self confidence, and her academics were actually improving because of it.

She was actually becoming decent at hand to hand combat sparring now, and had even forced submission from her critics in saber spars. Of course, she was always heavily critiqued by Darth Thaliax - but she began to see that more as a good thing, then a bad thing.

Lesh let her kohl lined blue eyes roam the chaotic scene around them, looking at the various other individuals of all species, shapes and sizes who had come to enjoy the concert as well. Most were Sith - and clearly so - but she spied a few that seemed to stick out. She would watch these individuals for a few moments in curiosity, before she eventually turned her attention back to the young man beside her as he responded to her earlier statement about food. .

"Yeah, food is a good idea for sure- think that our very own rockstar mentioned he might have a way for us to get drinks too, if we want."

“Oh…drinks?” Her eyes glimmered for a moment. “What kind of drinks?”

"Will you... Would you wanna run all our merch back to the speeder with me once we have it? That way it'll all be locked up safe, we can grab food when we get back and maybe Aven could grab us drinks? We can probably manage all that before the opening set."

“Yeah! Sounds like a plan to me!” she agreed, before turning her attention to the line they were in as they moved forward. They had to wait a few minutes, but eventually they reached the tables were all the merch was spread out, and Leshanna’s eyes lit up from all the options that were before her.

“Oh…I don’t even know what to choose! So many options here…” she exclaimed as the blue skinned Twi’lek behind the table waited for her to make her choice. Her eyes drifted over the various shirts and long sleeves and jackets - before settling on a trench coat that sported various studs and spikes and on the back was an absolutely sick artwork piece turned decal seen on one of the more popular Tukata Tears albums - which just so happened to be her favorite. She turned excitedly to Naamino and pointed it out to him. “Oh that trench coat is so badass! I want that one!" Her eyes turned back to the available options, and she spotted a shirt with the tour dates and band logo. "And that shirt too! If that's okay..." she pointed out, glancing between it and Naamino - almost as if making sure that it truly was okay for her to pick whatever it was that she wanted...

 

[Varin Mortifer]

Lysander von Ascania Haro Aven Sibylla Abrantes

Varin watched as inch by inch the line made its slow climb towards security, every burning second that ticked by was precious time he could have with his new friends, he started to become impatient. Looking past the folk ahead of him he could see that there was a confrontation going on between security and an individual trying to get in, with forged tickets. Varin held his crossed arms to his chest tapping his finger on his elbow. Slowly he began to seethe before he finally had enough and was bound to erupt.

“GET A MOVE ON, KICK HIM FROM THE LINE SO WE CAN ALL GET IN! WE ALL DIDN’T PAY TO SEE AN ARGUMENT WE COULD EASILY FIND ON A HOLODRAMA!”

The line paused their conversation to look back at this teenager who’s eyes burned like smoldering coals. There was a momentary pause before security escorted the citizen out of the line and the line continued moving.

After a few moments the young sith had finally made it to the security gate, the boy's back was fuming invisible heat waves off of him as he looked the guard in the eye and passed him his ticket chip.

As the guard took the chip they began to scan it, but the chip had issues scanning. A second, third, fourth scan and Varin’s grip was like a vice on his sleeve.

“....Is there a problem?”

Varin spoke quietly, suppressing the feeling of rage within.

“No, not at all citizen, go on in.” The nervous guard rushed through procedure as Varin finally made his way in.

Finally inside he took a deep inhale of relief as he looked in his cloak to find one of the security shock batons he swiped during the exchange with the guard. Varin smirked to himself.

“I never go anywhere unarmed.”

He made his way through the thick crowd of people as he tried to get an idea on where he was in the building. Out of the corner of his eye he could see a very well dressed lady being ushered out by a larger gentleman towards the exit.

“Some people just can’t handle culture I guess.”

As he made his rounds in the merch area he stopped and noticed a man passed out on a table absolutely enthralled by what was in his glass. Quickly Varin grabbed what looked like a bottle of wine he was drinking from, he promptly corked the bottle and placed it in his side bag.

“Now, where are those badawans?.”

He looked around scanning the crowd, it wasn’t too hard to spot the blond hair as he saw Lysander, face buried in his datapad with Haro in tow. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he wandered ahead to join his crew.

"The security here is abysmal at best gentlemen, thankfully i have a solution."

He gave them a sly smile as he revealed the shock baton.

"Just in case."

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

As they stepped closer to the wares and Leshanna Dromar made mention of drinks, Naami's heightened awareness caught her mischievous glance. She sought clarification about what kind of drinks and the zabrak mulled that over for a moment, pulling out his compact datapad to fire off a quick message to Haro Aven on the matter.

You did bring booze right? Told Lesh we did, if not then grab us some. Think she's into the whiskey.

"Aven and I have it figured out. Whatever you're in the mood for, we will get you a drink for the occasion."

Unfair perhaps, to put the task on his buddy— but he had his hands full and frankly needed to focus. Naami stashed the datapad as they stepped up to purchase wares. Leshanna's animated voice made his very soul feel content, and he nodded at the sales clerk. The trenchcoat Lesh had chosen was a custom job and technically too big for her but Naami had it bagged up anyway, along with the shirt she'd pointed out.

"You sure that's it? I mean it, pick out whatever you want— it's not everyday we get to see our favorite band live," he murmured warmly, barely audible over the crowd.

Once she'd gotten her picks, Naami chose an extra big Tuk'ata Tears poncho so that he wouldn't soon outgrow it and a Bad Ewok long sleeve. For Haro, he realized he hadn't asked which band his buddy wanted merch from, so Naami chose the coolest shirt from each. Laden down with two bags packed full of new clothes, the zabrak steered them back toward their parked speeder. Soon realizing how slow going it was, Naami thought to make a slight spectacle of himself to push through the crowds faster. Maybe Lesh would even enjoy it.

"Here, hop on," the zabrak crouched and offered his back with his arms still laden with bags, "You tell these starmetal-heads to clear outta the way— better coming from a beautiful girl than some dude they think they can fight."

And indeed the crowd was much more willing to part for them as Naami charged toward the speeder with Lesh playing the part of his pretty backpack. They got a few smiles and hoots and hollers, but mostly they made great time back to the speeder. The boy carefully set Lesh back down, grinning at her enjoyment of the experience.

Hearts racing from the exertion and anticipation, Naami quickly stashed their new clothes safely in the makeshift camper and turned to his friend. All of a sudden he felt very warm indeed, icy eyes meeting sapphire as he realized they finally had a moment alone. He paused, gaze searching her face, then the warmth became too much and he decided it was time to be free from his poncho.

Beneath, his new hooded drop tank was revealed and the most recent results of training hard at the Kor'ethyr gym, alongside all the specialized martial training he'd taken on. He folded the recently removed garment with nervous hands and stowed that as well, then closed the speeder once more. Finally there was nothing left to distract him from the moment he'd wanted, the moment he'd daydreamed about and planned for.

"Lesh?" He murmured, hands moving to gather hers as shy eyes rose once more.

"I'm so glad you're here, so happy we get this time together," he'd stepped close when he took her hands and now he hoped she didn't notice how sweaty his palms felt.

Words were stuck in his throat all of a sudden. He just needed to ask her… surely it couldn't be more difficult than running headlong into war. His mouth felt dry and his jaw tightened as he fought to get out a simple question.

"Lesh… can I…?"

He leaned toward her a bit and the question still didn't materialize but his body language might make the intent obvious.

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Sibylla's chrono buzzed, the familiar vibration sending a jolt through her as she glanced at the screen, still adjusting to the reality of being pulled away from the chaos of the desert venue. The guard had already ushered her into the airspeeder, but her eyes were fixed on the message on the screen.

Her breath caught as she read the words.

At least this time, it wasn't your choice.

I imagine that still makes for a refreshing change, no? For once, someone else is deciding how far we're apart.

Rather than you making that call.

But maybe it's for the best.

Some things are easier when they're kept at a distance.

Like you've always kept me.

She reread it, her fingers tightening around the device. Lysander didn't throw words around carelessly -- he never had.

Each quip, each remark, was chosen with a certain precision that belied its humor. He was clever that way. But this wasn't one of his usual teasing jabs. No, this was different. The humor was there, but it was laced with something else.

Something serious.

Her chest tightened as the engine of the airspeeder hummed to life, the sound filling the silence between her and the guard as they lifted off from the venue. Sibylla glanced out of the viewport, her gaze lingering on the venue below as the air speeder rose. She imagined Lysander was still there, likely playing the part of the charming harlequin -- at ease, surrounded by people, performing for them, all while she was being carted off like some rebellious child.

The words from his message echoed in her mind, the weight of them settling heavily on her chest. His callout had cut deeper than she cared to admit. The truth of it felt raw, and she couldn't ignore it.

She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry, and turned her gaze away from the venue towards the distant burning orange of incoming dusk on the horizon. There was no sharp retort, no witty quip that rose to sent back to Lysander. Not now. Not this time.

Because he wasn't wrong.

And he had called her out on it.

~ Exit Thread ~​

 

[Leshanna Dromar]

Naamino Zuukamano // Haro Aven​

Lesh was pleased to hear that he and Haro had drinks figured out, and she didn’t press the topic any further, nodding to indicate her trust that the boys had the matter taken care of already. At the merch bench, Naami was attentive as she made her choices, before he warmly encouraged her to pick out more if she wanted to - whatever else she desired. Realizing that he was, indeed, perfectly fine and happy to spoil her in such a manner, the girl did take him up on his offer and she picked up one more shirt that had caught her eye, before she indicated that she was done and the Zabrak then turned to picking himself up whatever items he wanted, along with grabbing some merch for Haro.

Bags of merch in hand, Naami began to guide them both through the swelling crowds and backwards their makeshift speeder camper. It was tough going, and part way through the crowd, Naami paused and crouched down - encouraging Leshanna to hop aboard his back:

"You tell these starmetal-heads to clear outta the way— better coming from a beautiful girl than some dude they think they can fight."

“Yeah, good idea. Though…not going to lie, I enjoy watching you fight Naami. Certainly would add some extra excitement, wouldn’t it?!” Leshanna said as she eyed her friend’s back; she had never ridden piggy back before, and the idea seemed fun and exciting to her, so she happily jumped aboard the broad and muscled back of the young man, positing herself so that she was comfortable and secure, before he rose back to his full height and allowed her see out over the crowd.

“Oi! Make some room, unless you want to get run over by my friend here!” she shouted down to the crowd, and they began to make a pathway for the two of them to slip through as Naami charged through, and they were met with cheers and hollars as they did so, seeming to sense or realize that the two were together. The whole ordeal made her laugh and smile and blush furiously, and her entire body practically radiated with excitement - something she knew that Naami would be able to sense.

Eventually the two of them reached the speeder, and Naami made sure to set her down carefully before quickly stashing all their new merch inside their camper, Leshanna following him inside to get away from the crowd for a moment. Her attention turned solely upon her closest friend, when he turned suddenly to face her. Lesh could feel an ever so subtle shift in the energy between them, especially in the way that Naamino was gazing upon her - and she suddenly became aware of how private the camper was in the moment.

No words were shared in the immediate moment, and the teenage girl felt her heart start to race a little faster in her chest as her eyes searched her best friend’s face, and noticed that he seemed like he wanted to share something with her - but was having trouble getting the words out. She watched as he peeled off his outer poncho, revealing his hooded drop tank that was underneath - and she couldn’t help looking him over as her eyes travelled to the toned and muscular arms he’d developed, that were now exposed to her sight.

She suddenly felt a knot form in her throat, and heat flushed across her skin as she once more marvelled at just how handsome Naamino truly was. Ruggedly handsome, built like a warrior because he was a warrior. He was her warrior, and this thought coiled through her mind and only made her heart race faster.

She’d of course seen him like this before…but something about this moment felt…different.

Charged. Electrified.

Naami closed some of the distance between them, reaching to pick up and wrap both her hands in his as he murmured her name and shyly lifted his eyes to look into her’s. "I'm so glad you're here, so happy we get this time together," The closeness of the moment made Lesh grow still as she gave him her full attention, unaware that the pace of her breathing had picked up slightly.

Something was definitely different about this close interaction between the two of them, and she was beginning to feel a rising sense of excitement that was different from the excitement she felt for the concert. Something special was about to happen…she could just feel it, and the Force around the two of them almost seemed to vibrate with anticipation.

Naamino seemed like he had more he wanted to say, but was finding it difficult to get the words out. Leshanna didn’t push him, didn’t force the moment that was transpiring, though her heart continued to thunder faster in her chest as her anticipation rose to new heights.

She had a feeling she knew what Naami wanted to do, why he had brought them both to the camper for a moment of privacy just for the two of them. It was something she’d been waiting for, wanting, for so long - but something she knew she couldn’t force upon the young man. She knew the right moment would come…and now it was here.

"Lesh… can I…?" Naami started to ask, though he was unable to finish the question.

But he didn’t need to.

“Yes. You can.” Leshanna said with a soft but somewhat tight voice, before she closed the remaining distance between the two of them to connect her lips with his. All thoughts ceased to exist within her mind as she was happy to simply live in that moment, as her hands squeezed his a bit tighter as she tried to express in that moment just how special Naamino was to her. All thought and words were transferred to that sweet kiss, and she didn’t want the moment to end - but she had to break away enough to breathe.

A joyful and genuine smile tugged at her lips as she leaned against him, resting her forehead against his as she let out a soft chuckle, trying to wrap her dazed and foggy mind around the fact that she’d just kissed her best friend.

“I have daydreamed about this moment for so long.” She confessed softly before she pulled back slightly to smile at him and express just how happy she was, before a shy and somewhat playful expression danced across her face. “So…now that we’ve kissed…does that mean you’d like to be my boyfriend?”

She paused, searching his face as her heart raced faster than ever before, before the words that she wanted to say spilled forth. “Because…I’d love to be your girlfriend, Naami.”

 

[Haro Aven]

Lysander von Ascania | Naamino Zuukamano | Leshanna Dromar | Varin Mortifer​

Unsurprisingly, Lysander's attention was divided between their conversation and his datapad, but it didn't bother Haro. As a rather distractible socialite himself, he understood better than most. He also had some context about who exactly Lysander was likely exchanging messages with and how important those messages seemed to be for him. Haro had posed his question in hopes that his friend had in fact found himself a date for the show, whether it was the future-senator girl he'd told him about or someone else he could have a good time with. Given the way Lysander had been stealing moments to search the faces in the crowd, Haro thought the answer might be yes, but the last message he received made the blonde visibly deflate. The bad news he had assumed it to be was soon confirmed.

"Ah damn... I'm sorry bro. Was really hoping it'd work out for you," Haro offered sympathetically, patting him on the shoulder just as his datapad buzzed in his pocket. He slipped it out partway to glance at the notification. It was a message from Naami.

"That was some straight up poetry you just threw out though. Could be lyrics to a new song in the making," he encouraged, hoping talk of music might help ease some of his disappointment.

As Lysander typed out a response to his own message, Haro took the opportunity to read the message from Naami. He smirked and shook his head. He could practically feel his buddy's tension through the text.

Of course! I’ve got some on me + the ID chips if we wanna buy more. Stay focused, soldier.

After sending the message, Haro cast a look around, heady euphoria just beginning to creep into his consciousness. He wondered about Naami and Lesh. He wondered if they were still picking out merch together, and if Naami was going to try to make his move soon or if he'd wait until later. Lysander's comments about his eye-liner and how he thought the look could still land him a co-lead in a Holodrama even if he'd lost an eye brought Haro's focus back to the conversation and made him laugh out loud.

"Ah, yes. The one-eyed mechanic with the tragic backstory and too much eyeliner, always a hit with the ladies," he teased. "I'd definitely have to have a cool eye patch too."

He kept up the rhythm and took the rolled herbs, but he hesitated in answering Lysander's next question about Lesh—not because he wasn't happy to gush about the girl, but because he kind of felt guilty doing so after Lysander had expressed feeling so far away from his own crush. He took a drag while he considered his response.

"Oh man, only one? I'd say, if I had to pick, it'd have to be her laugh. Like, the way she lights up when she's really excited or happy about something," he said, a fond smile warming his expression. He eyed Lysander for a moment, then matched his sly grin. "Did I pass your lie detector test?"

He gestured to the roll-up before he passed it back. "I think I'm good on this for now, thanks. Don't wanna get too far gone before the party really gets started. Would you be down to hook me up with one for later though? So I can smoke out the trio. In exchange, I could introduce you to the ladies I met on the way over to find you. They seemed eager to meet you and they'd probably buy you a drink or two."​

It was then, he heard a familiar voice and turned to see Varin strolling up to them. The boy made a comment about how bad the security was then proffered a stun baton, claiming it as his "solution." Haro was about to throw out an enthusiastic greeting when his gaze found the baton and he immediately glanced around to see if any of the security guards or other concert-goers had noticed.

"Dude, what?! How'd you get that thing through security?" He asked conspiratorially, his bright eyes flashing with mischief.

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

Hearts feeling as if they'd pound out of his chest, palms practically producing their own weather system, and with a lump in his throat, Naami's icy blue eyes widened as Leshanna Dromar told him that "yes" he absolutely could. Then she spared him from overthinking further by closing the distances herself.

The world stopped.

Impossibly soft lips met his and the zabrak's eyes lulled closed at the immaculate sensation. All his racing thoughts ceased and for one long, beautiful moment the boy was so perfectly at peace.

It felt like forever as she pressed close, and hadn't been nearly enough time when she pulled away. Naami swayed, uncharacteristically malleable to Leshanna's every move. His very skeleton seemed to tingle and a powerful sense of the energy gathered between them, the immensity of the Force roiling up to wash over them in that moment seemed to steal his breath and make small bumps rise all over his exposed skin.

“I have daydreamed about this moment for so long.” She confessed softly before she pulled back slightly to smile at him and express just how happy she was, before a shy and somewhat playful expression danced across her face. “So…now that we’ve kissed…does that mean you’d like to be my boyfriend?”

Dark eyelashes fluttered as Lesh first rested her head against his, then pulled back a bit to consider him. Her gaze was met by his, full of wonder and tenderness, rife with curiosity and newfound energy. Calloused hands traveled up her arms gently, pulling her ever-ever-so slightly closer as she continued on.

“Because…I’d love to be your girlfriend, Naami.”

All at once, his thoughts came rushing back in.

... Boyfriend ...
​

The word echoed around his mind even as his eyes were drawn to her soft lips. Had he been right to worry all along? Did this mean he'd need to start making a proper living right away? Would she expect a home? A family?

No... surely Haro Aven had to be right... That these things came in stages and he didn't have to have it all figured out all at once.

...Right?

Even as his mind was flooded with such thoughts, plagued by the uncertainties of youth, Naamino Zuukamano felt himself nodding fervently.

One hand traveled to her waist, to gently cradle there, while the other continued to slowly smooth up her bare arm wondering at the silky feeling of her skin.

"Yes," he murmured, leaning in once more as if he couldn't help himself, "Please."

A word that seldom graced his lips, now shared between them like the greatest secret of his heart. It was irrelevant in the moment that he didn't fully know what it meant, the zabrak sealed his assurance with one more kiss.

Made breathless once more, this time by his own action, Naami was smiling brightly when they pulled apart the second time. He was drunk with elation and felt electric all over. He might have stayed right there with her indefinitely if a sudden uproar from the direction of the amphitheater hadn't brought his attention back to their surroundings.

It seemed the opening act of "Bad Ewok" had taken the stage.

Naami blinked a bit as he came back to his senses, then he thought to actually check his datapad again. Still holding Lesh close, he slipped the device out of his pocket to quickly scan the message sent by his buddy. The zabrak shifted a bit so he could type out a quick response.

Mission Accomplished. Heading your way.

Stowing the tech just as quickly as he'd used it, Naami returned his full attention to the girl pressed close to him...

One of his best friends in the galaxy... His girlfriend.

"Ready to rock?" he asked with a dazed and lopsided smile.

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Show #2: Korriban - City of Dreshdae

Haro Aven | Varin Mortifer | Naamino Zuukamano | Leshanna Dromar | Sibylla Abrantes ​

The pat on the shoulder from Haro, though simple, registered a little more than expected. It felt like pity, clear proof that something had shifted in him. Easy victories were nothing new to Lysander; when he truly wanted something, once he acknowledged it, it was always within reach. But now, for the first time, he found himself constantly lingering in disappointment.

His rhythm had been disrupted.

Smoke that curled in the boy’s lungs seconds ago stretched throughout his limbs, loosening the tension that felt like wounds threatening to coil around his true persona. The static building in his mind softened. And in that ease, he further recognized something uncomfortable, something unattractive. Here he was, having sabotaged himself down over someone, who, almost certainly, had no shortage of backup options.

Quiet logic always had a way of whispering.

It always just lingered, offering truths that one typically didn’t want to face.

The empathetic words that followed didn't fully register, as both of them were consumed by their digital devices--providing a convenient excuse.

Still, part of him believed Haro's intentions were pure, at least as pure as anyone could be on a planet like Korriban.

But it didn't lessen the sting.

When the half-Kage boy shifted gears, mentioning lyrics to a song, his attention sharpened immediately. The acolyte's gaze flickered up, intrigued like no other. Truth was, he had already been practicing in secret. But singing was different than everything else that came easy---strategic thinking, charm, effortless confidence.

But singing?

Surprisingly, it made him feel shy.

And recently, as if the Force was trying to give him a small nudge forward, he also purchased a refurbished microphone at a market.

It was a new chapter that was just meant to be.

Now, he was working to overcome that new hurdle. When alone in the dorm, hours were spent facing himself in a mirror, working past the hesitation, mouthing words and adjusting his breathing. It was like going to the gym with meat-head Zabrak, Naamino, or just showing up for lightsaber instruction class—just more reps to be logged, which compounded over time, and fueled his trajectory for more growth.

A gentle and effortless curve of the lips followed; and as it prevailed, it carried its own warmth. “Guess I should start warming up then.” The blonde rolled his shoulders, gaze fixated on his friend. “I’ll definitely give you credit for inspiration after I make it big, since you’ve kinda sorta witnessed my downfall. Now I just gotta turn it into art.”

Amusement settled into his tone as the conversation began to flow smoother. "That tracks. The eyepatch would be critical bro," he mused, a hand absentmindedly combing through his hair. A chuckle escaped his throat; the sound was rich. “Leave it to the non-Force sensitive of the group with a never-ending supply of candy bars to have the highest body count at the academy.”

Upon hearing the answer about Leshana, an approving nod was given. “The kind of thing that you remember long after it's gone. I can work with that.” The acolyte’s eyes narrowed in playful skepticism. “You passed.. barely. The delivery was decent, guess I’ll allow it this time.”

The rolled item was taken back, and he wasted no time before pulling a long hit. His lungs soaked it in easier, the burn smoother now, before letting it roll out slowly. In the recesses of his mind, a stray thought reminded him that he would still need to operate the two-wheeled machine to return home. But now that was just a problem for later. Logical or not, he chose to just be in the present, ready to indulge in every desire that came his way. As if anticipating the request before it was even spoken, his movements fluid as silk, another slender roll was retrieved from the depths of his leather jacket—one of many prepared beforehand. "I got you," he said, carrying a touch of smugness

When the Bad Ewoks soon took stage, energy began rippling through the venue.

The band began testing their instruments. Deep bass reverberated through the venue, along with heavier drum beats. It was followed by cheers. The teen’s weight temporarily shifted from one foot to the other.

A brow lifted in amusement as he then leaned in closer.

"Be real with me..will I be walking into something I’ll regret later?" Fingers drifted up, settling lightly against his chest. "I don’t mind being charitable, but don’t abuse me bro. I do actually have standards.” With another nod, the sleeves on his shirt were adjusted. "Alright. Go ahead, Captain. Hook me up. You already know I’m taking both. But if this goes wrong, prepare yourself.. I’ll totally monologue ya to death whenever we link back up at the academy next week."

From the edgge of his sight, Lysander spotted his roommate approaching. As expected, he would arrive with another questionable life decision. Maybe that was why they got along so well. His index digit hovered, toying with the idea of tapping it. Then, at the very last second, he pulled back before stretching both arms out slowly. Casually, he held out what remained of the smokeable to Varin. "I gotta say, I definitely respect the preparedness," A slow tilt of the head followed. "But you should hit this.. ya know, just to make sure you don’t accidentally kill someone."