Public Splendor and Spite

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Mauve du Vain //: Bastila Sal-Soren //: Aurelian Veruna //:

It didn't take long for the pair to reach the King of Naboo and his striking companion. Quinn had already caught the woman's gaze as she crossed the floor, her own smile lingering with quiet charm. Unlike many Sith, the Princess kept her presence muted, hidden — the phobis device at her core ensuring unease for those who strayed too close.

She offered the King a polite nod, more for the crown than the man beneath it.

"Your Highness," Quinn smirked, hazel eyes scanning him coolly. "Good to see you still in one piece."

Her interest in him ended there. Her smile warmed as she turned toward Bastila, her body angling just enough to invite Mauve to step beside her.

"And you are?" Her voice softened, lilting with genuine intrigue. "You're stunning. I nearly forgot the King…" Quinn flicked her gaze toward him, smirk tugging wider, "…was even here."

The jab was light and yet dismissive.

She turned back to Bastila with elegance, gesturing toward her companion.

"This is Mauve du Vain," she said, tone smooth, coy.

A hand pressed to her heart, her smile never wavering.

"And I am Princess Quinn Varanin. The pleasure, I assure you, is ours."

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: Fountain Palace, Hapes
Tags: Bastila Sal-Soren | Mauve du Vain | Quinn Varanin

Aurelian stepped back with careful precision. The young king silently thanked Shiraya for the timely arrival of these new colorful characters who surrounded Gerra. He'd seen that vacant, brutish look before in men who lived only for bloodshed. Gerra's mind was too accustomed to war; eventually, he would forget where he was and lash out like a cornered animal. Aurelian intended to ensure that lash wouldn't be directed at him.

With the bride and her consort occupied by the newcomers, Aurelian felt Bastila shift beside him. Her stillness was a deceptive calm, a coiled readiness that only another predator would notice. She leaned in, her lips moving in a whisper meant only for him, and Aurelian's smile sharpened as he dipped his head close. His hand remained at her waist, his fingers tightening with a subtle claim, but his words held no sweetness.

"Be careful with these two," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "That one" his gaze flickered toward Mauve, lingering on the coy smile she wore, "is Black Sun's favorite. She has half this sector wrapped around her finger. And the Princess?" His tone dripped with quiet contempt. "She doesn't lead her own Empire. She fights for the scent of Mauve's collar. Her pheromones achieve what the Sith code never could." Aurelian's lips curved as if amused, but his words held an edge of steel. He wouldn't underestimate those who hid their daggers in perfume and silk.

The Queen Mother excused herself with a rustle of ivory fabric. Aurelian offered a polite nod, his tone smooth and warm, though his eyes remained cool. "Your Majesties. May the rest of your evening be as bright as the vows you've just made." The Queen and her consort departed, leaving the hall feeling faintly colder without Aurellia's venomous presence.

As the crowd of nobles shifted, Bastila and Aurelian drifted away from the dais. Mauve and Quinn were already making their approach, their predatory intentions clear.

"Well," he whispered, his amber eyes alight with amusement, "so much for a quiet night." He gave her a wry wink, a promise of both trouble and delight, as Quinn Varanin glided forward with her characteristic poise and subtly poisoned charm.

The Princess introduced herself with an elegance she wielded like a weapon, her pointed remarks skimming over him as if he were mere decoration. Aurelian's answering smile was slow, sly, and deliberate. "Princess Varanin," he drawled, his tone light but laced with steel. "I'd say it's a pleasure, but you seem intent on making me forget I was ever here. A true tragedy. I put so much effort into being remembered."

He let the barb hang in the air, a jest on the surface but with enough bite to test the waters. Then, deliberately, he stepped back, yielding the floor to Bastila. She was no mere ornament, and she needed no leash. Let Quinn discover the consequences of crossing a Sal-Soren who had chosen to stand beside him.

​

 

[Bastila Sal-Soren]

Bastila​

“Pheremones? You didn’t say anything before about Pheremones…” Bastila said under her breath towards Aurelian moments before she had to put on her game face and take notice of the subtle step back from Aurelian at her side, she found herself slightly off guard by the way his weight shifted just enough to cede the stage. It was a deliberate movement, he knew what he was doing and Bastila knew as well, this wasn’t him yielding, no it was from allowing her to be at the forefront where she could be unleashed if necessary, he had seemingly taken satisfaction from the watching her sharpen the blade, now he gave her the space to use it. She accepted the space with practiced ease, her every movement calm and focused..

Her glass turned slowly between her fingers, the stem catching the chandelier’s fractured light. The music and laughter of the hall seemed to fade, muted to her ears from the unspoken pressure on her from the attention of the Sith Princess’s gaze. Bastila didn’t need to allow the force to tell her she was suddenly in the arena with a predator, the eyes of the Princess told her that without any suspicion. The young Jedi met it head-on, a smile appearing on her face that was equal parts courtesy and challenge.

“Bastila Sal-Soren,” she said at last, her voice carrying with the clarity of cut crystal. Her gaze lingered on Quinn maybe a beat too long, before allowing the faintest arch of a brow. “You flatter me, Princess. It is usually my Sister who collects such compliments.”

She flicked her smile toward Aurelian, it was pointed and very deliberate before returning her full attention to Quinn. “Surely not,” she added lightly, “I heard you made each other’s acquaintance during the Wielu incident?” She leaned in, as though whispering a rumour not meant for Aurelian’s ears. “Do tell, Princess… I heard he was quite the pain in the ribs?”

She locked eyes, refusing to allow the moment to shift, so much so that the air seemed to tighten as her attention drifted to the Zeltron. Bastila inclined her head in a precise, graceful nod. “Gosh you do so look familiar, have we met before?” Her tone was smooth, but edged with knowledge. “Or perhaps you just have one of those faces… the kind I’ve seen before on posters, or holos.”

Straightening, Bastila let her gown catch the light with a liquid shimmer, gold fire racing across black silk. She raised her glass, the gesture elegant and unhurried in a toast, but one that felt more like a gauntlet. “Too new friends,” she spoke, her eyes again locking on those of the Princess, those eyes that she just couldn’t pull away from. “But tell me, Princess Varanin… I doubt your crossing the floor was a coincidence. Did you come here for pleasantries? Or for something memorable?” Her voice dropped, “Something sharper?”

The glass touched her lips. Her gaze never leaving Quinn’s, the tension of her building thickened beneath silks and candlelight, by the Force those eyes.

“The night is still young,” she murmured. “And the celebrations have yet to truly begin.”

Tags: Aurelian Veruna Quinn Varanin Mauve du Vain

 

[Persephone Dashiell]

LIBRARY

Distraction in place and with no one paying attention to a teenage girl, Persephone was free to move about freely. Often hard to do with a hulking security droid but she managed to make it work. Quietly they glided to the spot needed ; history. As much as she loved romance and read romance novels on the regular, it was a little crowded in that direction.

Finding the novels she was after - one on the Tingel Arm and the other on the Ashlan Crusade, bringing them to Zee. Now, Zee wasn't going to outright steal them. Distantly Hapan herself, how could one betray their Queen Mother in such a fashion? No, she would be liberating the knowledge in a much different fashion ; good ol' fashioned piracy.

Fitting, given who her father was.

Zee would use his advanced ocular sensors to quickly record the contents for her, make a file, then she could easily read and search the texts back home in the comfort of her room. As the droid began, she stood with wineglass in hand, looking around.

"Perhaps a library like this for myself one day. With better design choices, naturally. Royals - for all the money and power they have - are horribly gauche."

[ Agreed Miss Persephone. Their perception of the colorwheel is tenuous at best. ]