Dominion Tethered Hearts | CIS Dominion of Kiffu Hex

[Eternal Ardor]

Kiffu and its sister, Kiffex, was the homeworld of the Kiffar. And each carried ties to the Confederacy of days past. So as the borders of the Southern Systems’ nation expanded ever constantly towards its humble domain, it would come as no surprise with the planet’s Sheyf, Kiskla Grayson-Matteo , reached out to the Confederacy and invited them to take part in a recurring former festivus that occurred this time each year. A celebration of both life and the bonds and relationships people shared across all walks of life. Yet this year brought with it, a new excitement. For this year held higher aspirations for the very heart and home of the Kiffar people where these sister worlds were home.

A petition had been submitted to the offices of the Minister of Influence, Faye Malvern, and the Vicelord, Malok , detailing their desires and declaration to join the ever-expanding registry of the Confederacy. And now as an offer of good faith, Kiffu had blanketed an invitation to this year’s festival to all in the Confederacy that wished to attend.

Though it may have been deemed a “festival,” this procession was far more formal in its layout. The dress code was strict and demanded attendees to be dressed formally, dawning your best and most elegant garb you could muster. A “Black Tie” social might be the more appropriate description here. Further, this year’s theme was announced to be “Tethered Hearts,” which now carried an underlying meaning to it as well, beyond the obvious. Now, with their petition extended to the Confederacy, the sister worlds sought to tether their own allegiances to the Confederacy.

---

Objectives:

Join the Kiffar of Kiffu and Kiffex that have gathered on Kiffu in the Grand Hall, the heart of the celebration. Take to the dance floor and stand on the outside and simply enjoy yourself and the goings on.

Take to the streets outside of the Grand Hall and enjoy the other parts of what the Celebration has to offer. There’s supposed to be a dazzling spectacle of fireworks later in the night.

As always, feel free to bring your own objective and story if you prefer.

Spoiler: Tag(s)

Ettiene Kharne
Alkor Centaris
Amelia von Sorenn
Ari Riggs
Arisone Irithiel
Archon Xris
Ashara Evanaris
Aston Jacobs
Aya Clarke
Beric Layne
Bullwark
BX-1335
Caesar Kenway
Corvus Dravere
The Lord of Hunger
Cypher Raige
Damsy Callat
Darth Pryde
Decious
Destroyer 2873
Eli-Mae Forrest
Fawn Alzi
Faye Malvern
FN-1138
Gerwald Lechner
IG-65A
Ingrid L'lerim
Joannis Campbell
John Locke
Suravi Teigra
Karlie Lynn Destat
Kasca Fen
Kathryn Foster
Kayla Wylen
Kiff Brayde
Krystal
Kurenai Yumi
Kyber
Kyrinov
Lady Moll
Lirka Ka
Luna Terrik
Luna Vega
Lyla Quinn
Maani
Maple Harte
Maria Savilia
Maur
Muad Dib
Myrrdin_Emries
Nine Lives
Petra Cavataio
LGMForever
R4-AUD
Razelle Breuner
Roy Americus
Rylan Kordel
SC-A1
Srina Talon
Startorn
Subject 73 Red
Talon Rahl
ToKola Bakari
Tess Valnora
Teyla Riggs
Tyran Numeck
Valencia Hadley
Vanric Dannon
Veronika Fleischer
Visanj T'shkali
Kyyrk
Vyse Valorous
Vytal Noctura

 

[The Lord of Hunger]

Attire: [X]
Postcount: 1
Tag: Lunara Azure | Vytal Noctura
​

For once the assimilation of aplanet did not need any bloodshed or intervention and simply was the result of smart and thourough government thinking, ending up with the planet's government petitioning a voluntary request to be granted a charter and membership within the confederacy. The Viceroy of Eriadu, one of the systems that didn't "just" join the confederation of independent systems, found this peculiar, amusing, yet at the same time also rather welcoming. It was after all rather tiresome to be attending so many conflicts and interventions on behalf of the confederacy, something which he rarely saw his confederate companions within the viceroyalty do, which did annoy him quite a bit. To make matters worse, few of these had already been disasters were the original goal of negotiation and discussion had given way to complete marshal law and military occupation, though perhaps not entirely unexpected, the added stress upon the government since the last assembly's happenings made everything a bit strained.

However, now was no the time to be thinking dark thoughts, but a time to celebrate the voluntary choice of joining the Confederacy made by the Kiffar people, a joyous occassion without a doubt and though the man passing through the large doors leading to the grand hall wasn't fond of actually parting extensively, he didn't deny the fact that these festivities and the peace that would come with them were well earned, a bonus in this case was the fact there would be no unexpected, dogmatic jedi to sour the mood for him.

Making sure to grab himself a glass of the finest liquor the party had to offer, the tall oak of a man went on to mingle with some government officials to discuss possible economic relations and goodpolitical ties between the Kiffar people and the people of the Eriadu system, after all: a new member to the assembly meant another place to set up shop and expand his own wealth and business acumen within the confederacy.

 

[Ettiene Kharne]

Location: Kiffu (Outside Grand Hall)
Attire/Carrying: Tuxedo (Purple and Black); Prosthetic Arm; Ring
Tag(s): Faye Malvern
​

It was nice for life to slow down from time to time, and for now it seemed it had done just that. In the weeks prior, Alden had been torn in different directions and unmercifully so at that. On one hand, Alden still stood as a senior leader in the Confederate Defense Force and as such, had certain responsibilities which demanded his attention in their own right. But now, he also had the responsibility of confiding over a planet with millions of people that depended on his success in the royal realm. Such things were demanded of monarchs and he'd vowed to give the utmost care and respect to that. to lay his very heart out on the line, for the livelihood as best he could. A daunting task to be sure, but one he felt comfortable committing to, especially since he had Faye by his side.

But for now, his path found him in a very different place. Far from the core sector of the Confederacy and in a system beyond the territory of his home on Eiattu 6. Now he found himself upon Kiffu's surface for a celebration of sorts the Sheyf of the world had invited the Confederacy to attend. A pleasant change of events, and scenery, to be sure. And one he would be happy to be spending with his, now, fiancé .

He stood by her side in this very moment, his sapphire eyes gazing out over the festival goers whose elation seemed contagious. Spreading out among all gathered and leaving none with a foul mood to be had.

 

[Talak Jenste]

Attire: [Long Black Dress / Hairstyle]
Carrying: Lightstaff (hidden)
Location: Kiffu (Grand Hall)
Tag: Kyyrk​

Taiia smoothed out her dress as she walked up the stairs somewhat unsteadily the change of attire was a bit different than she was used to as was the scenery, this was really the first time she had been off world since she arrived on Geonosis and being such a new member of the confederacy she was quite shocked it was even offered. She made her way into the grand hall of Kiffu and took in the scene around her. It was impressive to behold on the outside but inside was even better its opulence was quite impressive for somebody who spent most of their lives in a Jedi Enclave even setting aside her time on Geonosis, Kiffu was much older and had such a history to it the very walls felt alive to her.

She tried very hard not to look like a tourist, she knew in detail the history of Kiffu a planet that gave the Jedi one of their more unique characters in Quinlan Vos. Taiia had spent a fair amount of time reading ancient history of both the clone wars and the confederacy during that time both at the Jedi Archives and on the way here refreshing her memory. Though admittedly very different now, she suspected she would not have supported the confederacy during the clone wars. She finally stopped gawking and walked into the main hall. To anyone looking at her they would not assume by her dress that she had ever been a Jedi, but they would be oh so wrong.

Her hair was done still a bit past her shoulders but a slight curl added to it and a few rogue strands carefully placed behind her right ear, she had discarded her robes and cloak for the occasion and had instead donned a long elegant flowing black dress. The room was full of people and her emerald eyes scanned the room searching for anyone she recognized there would be a lot of members of the Confederacy as well as members of the planetary government here tonight so she would do her best to get to know everyone. She scanned the room again and not seeing any familiar faces she moved into one of the wings of the hall where a waiter walked up and offered her a drink she took the offered glass and took a sip of the offered drink. Whatever it was, it was quite good. She sighed a bit inwardly it was going to be a long night.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Attire: Black Queen
Location: Grand Hall, Kiffu
Tag: The Lord of Hunger | Open

Vytal hated offworlder 'formal' parties. Was it not enough for her to wear her red armor? It was quite passable as social wear. But Sisters had assured the Nightmother that 'formal wear' and 'strict dress code' to their galactic ilk meant a very particular sense of fashion. A poor one. By all the spirits how was a woman to move in a thing like this? No doubt designed by a male all to happy to force a woman to show off the fact there was not something easily crushed between two legs that could barely slid about one another.

Naturally they'd spent some time practicing -- practicing wearing clothes! -- how to walk and dance in this awful thing. 'Civilized?' Offworlders were not civilized. They were obsessed with the most trivial, less valuable, most 'delightful' of baubles and this dress...!

Fortunate for the party goers the Nightmother had long since gotten over her initial ire at the regal attire she'd slipped on for the most recent governmental affair. The Nightmother appeared to glide into the Grand Hall with her head held high. Admittedly, that illusion was the one saving grace the dress had. That and its appearance of functional yet regal stature. A woman could go into battle wearing this -- after she tore the dress open.

Green eyes roamed the area as she inclined her head slightly to acknowledge a few brave souls willing to approach the pale, tattooed woman. By the gods they were so lucky none suggested the facial tattoos would 'jeopardize' this new alliance because they ran afoul of some arcane code. The suggestion alone might have her lay such a person out and that could jeopardize the alliance.

After a few minutes, Vytal managed to drift about the crowd until she drew up alongside a familiar presence. The Nightmother did not press up against Credius, but stopped only a few inches short with a small smile on her dark lips. "Lord Nargath, enjoying yourself this evening?" The man was intelligent and suffered things like this by sheer necessity; Vytal expected -- perhaps hoped -- that was the only case. Misery loved company, and in this case perhaps they could extract one another from being forced to present too many false smiles and heartless laughs.

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Objective - BYOO - Represent
Wearing // Mood
Tags: Open
​

The woman on the throne, Sheyf of Kiffu, was a silhouette against the crackling azure energy behind her - a containment field boasting Kiffu’s prowess over electricity - but in drawing closer, could easily be recognized as a rare, ethereal beauty. The embodiment of an iron flower. The strength in her jaw, her poise, everything about how she was sitting boasted she was someone who took the Kiffar trait of vigorously defending independence, while somehow maintaining an air of approachability and graciousness. A smoothness from her time with The Jedi Order, no doubt.

The days of leaping into the fore with a legion at her side were well past, the only focus she had now was the longevity and resiliency of her people. The sister planets had been residing in neutral space on the fringes of The Confederacy’s border for far too long to have anyone rest easy. Being on the fence of anything was no security. Eventually, a side would have to be chosen. Other governments were far too distant to be a resort, and too questionable in their stability.

Thus, the invitation to The Confederacy. The Independent Systems part of the galactic government was the selling point to her advisors. Though, she couldn’t help recognizing the convolution of the empyrean tonight. Clouded with the medley of dark and light in the confined space.Kiskla could only breathe easy knowing that it was only a temporary sangria of mixed alignments, for the purpose of the festival only. They’d been respectful so far, and she assumed that would continue under mutual good faith.

Pearlescent gaze traipsed over the throngs of bodies in the Grand Hall, an extension of her throne room. A space usually empty, save for any audience she held, and her guards. Having so much activity in the space was foreign, but welcomed. In her glory days, she'd been a socialite. Her naked vision appreciated the intermingling of species - the contrast of the well-dressed Confederacy ambassadors, to what the Kiffar considered black-tie. Many of her ilk were meticulous with their tailoring, but still sported odd do-dads as accessories. Their long hair braided, and of course, the distinction of their clan-based tattoos omnipresent on their faces. Subconsciously, Kiskla touched her own, a dark veil that stretched ear to ear over her eyes like a masque.

As if the gesture had cued the creature, the Pale Spark dragon curled around her seat lifted its head lazily, and the Sheyf looked toward it with as much appreciation as one could expect from the listless queen.

 

[Alkor Centaris]

The obvious mandate upon reinstatement was to take on work. It was less of a professional mandate and more personal, but Alkor had done more than enough listless wavering on the edge of oblivion in the past months than he ever wanted to again. He stood in less-than-formal attire as a guard for Confederate elements and local dignitaries alike.

As a Knight Obsidian proper once more, he felt a certain solemness set in as he took up his watch. Once, Knight Darcrath had even forced him to one of these events as he plus one. Now that things were as they should be, it should not have bothered him.

Yet, here he was with both arms folded at his back. He stood near the doors, watching and monitoring the ballroom in silence. Others danced the night away. Some stood near tables filled with food. Many people spent their time talking and laughing.

It was going to be a long night.

 

[The Lord of Hunger]

Attire: [X]
Postcount: 2
Tags: Vytal Noctura | Kiskla Grayson-Matteo | Open
​

The talk with these dignitaries, all wearing such frivolous and strange outfits, with some even mentioning how strange it was to see someone with unmarked skin and near flawless facial features, annoying the viceroy with some of those comments rather quickly, as he knew what he really looked like whe he'd remove the mask he waswearing day in and day out. It was blasé, boring and quite frankly quite a task to keep a straight face when being surrounded by bloated fools who seemed to lack any understanding in how to speak to their betters. Letting out a sigh, the man looked over the heads of the men who had gathered together, while the true power of this entire planet wasn't one of these bloated fools, but a woman sitting comfortably on a throne, practically detached from these coniving, selfserving oafs that had swarmed the grand hall. If he had not been there for the sake of the Confederacy, he'd have at the very least snapped a few of those blubbery necks.

The arrival and the surprisingly regal appearance of the nightmother was a welcome sight to the viceroy of Eriadu, who upon being greeted by his peer, made a courteous nod all the while letting out a sigh of relief. "My dear nightmother, your arrival is most opportune," With a faint smile, the viceroy excused himself from the litter of weasles he had gotten into, politely excusing himself, while slightly biting hislower lip to refrain himself from doing more.

Turning back to the Vytal Noctura , the man momentarily glanced at the regal figure at the back, his lips for an instant curling upwards in a smirk, before motioning thenightmother to join him for another drink, he sure as hell needed another one now. "I must admit I am surprised to see you in such a regal and elegant attire... I would've expected you to arrive here in your nightsister regalia and robes," Letting out a subtle chuckle, Credius grabbed two glasses of liquor, handing one to the nightmother. "I could've been training with the guards, having a stroll through the gardens or read up on some newly acquired literature within my library, but duty's got me stuck here pandering with prolific, prepubescant protozoa that value themselves as if they were the center of the galaxy."

Shaking his head for an instant and rubbing his forehead with his free hand, the man's expression showed that he was tired and annoyed. "I don't think I would've lasted much longer with those people, at the very least you have both the looks to accompliment your sharp tongue and bright mind, Esteemed Nightmother, makingyou infinitely more interesting than those twats."

 

[Moe Uilor]

Attire: Moe's best robe, a black scarf hiding his head and face, a hat, this thing he once bought over his robe, and fancy matching shoes humans seem to value.
Location: Grand Hall, Kiffu
Tag: Taiia Mataan | Open

This was the first time Honest Moe Uilor had ever been invited to attend such a formal party. The fact that the invitation had actually been directly addressed to Asaraa Vaashe -and he just happened to find it by chance- couldn’t make him any less enthusiastic about being the first Jawa of Clan Uilor to ever get an invitation to such an important event. Today was an important day for Jawa.

In fairness, Honest Moe really tried his best to dress for the occasion and live up to the moment. In addition to wearing his best robe and a matching hat, along with a black scarf to protect his head and face from potential environmental hazards, the Jawa had traded dearly for a pair of fancy shoes which the Humans seemed to value that much. While the shoes were really difficult to walk on, Moe discovered that wearing them actually made him slightly taller; something which Humans apparently considered important. He even paid special care to match the colour of his shoes with the colour of the apron he once bought and which he, due to having a larger pouch than the one in his regular robe, always saved for special or otherwise important events.

As the Jawa made his way through the Main Hall, closely followed by an old MSE-6 series repair droid which he polished just for this very event, Moe attracted the attention of a nearby waiter by pulling the leg of the man’s trousers. When the man looked down and noticed him, he lowered the tray of snacks he was holding –albeit with some initial hesitation- so Moe could take one. Moe took two and, with a friendly and cheerful “Taa baa!” put both snacks in the pouch of his apron; the pouch where he was already keeping two drumsticks, a piece of cheese, two slices of spicy sausage, and a variety of assorted nuts.

Moving through the room of people whom barely paid him any attention, or so he thought, Moe kept walking with his trusted translation droid in tow; searching for people he could converse with. Upon spotting someone who was standing by herself, a red-haired woman wearing a long black dress, Moe began to approach her with a cheerful “M’um M’aloo eyeta!” It was quickly translated by the shiny mouse droid, which spoke up with a kind of deep voice one wouldn’t expect from such a tiny droid. “Honest Moe Uilor greets you as a friend.”

Bowing cheerfully after the translation, Moe continued with his cheerful Jawa Trade Talk. “Utto nye usabia atoonyoba?” Just like before, it was quickly translated by the mouse droid-turned protocol droid. “Honest Moe Uilor would like to inquire if you are interest in buying a used droid for a sharp price.” As the droid translated, Honest Moe looked at the red-haired woman with interest; not even breaking his stare as he retrieved and ate a slice of sausage from his pouch.

 

[Faye Malvern]

Ettiene Kharne
Location: Outside the Grand Hall
Attire: Dress | Ring | Cridehe Gras [Necklace]​

In the past few months, it felt as though things had changed. Drastically so.

Alden and Eiattu VI had become of great importance to Faye, and she still had her work as Minister of Influence within the CIS. Her work in the Confederacy certainly did keep her busy, even more so as of late. So, when the petition from Kiffu had landed on her desk, she had welcomed the idea with open arms. Beyond the chance to break free of the draining workload for a night, it was the perfect opportunity to spend some much-needed personal time with the man who had made her whole again.

Faye stood silently by Alden, her head resting gently on his silk-clad shoulder, drinking it all in. The last time she recalled spending time with Alden away from the responsibilities and burdens they bore day to day had been Kabal, but it was a sombre memory. Tonight, however, would be different. They had a reason to celebrate, and a reason to be elated that went far beyond the ordinary excitement of a social event. An engagement. Their engagement. In truth it had taken her completely by surprise, she was still reeling from it in the most pleasant of ways.

The hand that wasn’t looped around Alden’s arm reached up to touch the silver bound jewel that rested neatly in the middle of her chest. The necklace had become a source of some comfort to Faye, but she wouldn’t need it tonight. Instead, she let her empathic abilities run free. There was little reason to hide them away behind the power of the necklace, because the only emotion that radiated from the crowds of people on Kiffu was exuberance, in bundles. For her, the elation was contagious, and with this many people gathered for the soul purpose of celebrating, it was a rather euphoric sensation to the natural empath.

She released a soft sigh and wrapped the hand that was round the necklace around Alden’s arm instead. “I hardly know what to do with myself.” Looking out over the festivities truly was a marvel. Silver sparkles of light twinkled against the background of a setting sun, which in turn cast the entire promenade in a beautiful peach glow. “It feels like an age since we've had the chance to do nothing at all.” Even the words that fell from her lips sounded full of joy, despite the fact that they were soft and almost whispered.

 

[Darth Elyria]

Objective: Dance, or, Drink Poison
Tag: Malok
Attire: Black [And a little white? Blasphemy.]​

Ridiculous.

Black eyes watched the glimmering gathering that had been drawn up in favor of the nation in which she chose to dwell. The warm emotions that teetered on the edge of relief from this world were foreign to her. It reeked of weakness, of humanity, and the dark creature did not know how to cope. So far from her Vault, from her tomb, from her children, while saturated in goodness and light was absolutely mortifying. Dizzying in its plebian grace. Why did she suffer such torrid indignities?

For him. For him, she went against her true nature. For him, she stayed the desire to devour anything in her path. Always, for him.

She scowled, deeply, and blood-red lips pulled down at the corners.

“I do not like this world. Must you keep it?”

Her left hand had curled lazily about his shoulder while her right remained encapsulated in his. The grip was neither too tight nor too loose. Natural. There was a sense of possession that ebbed from her core. Should anyone else request a dance from the Vicelord they would swiftly find themselves denied and alone. Elyria, Selene, did not share. Period. “It bores me. There’s no violence. No wanton death...Just order. Everyone is...Pleased.”

How trite and awful.

Despite his recent promises, she held doubts. Her time had not yet come, however, it was already over. These beings were rotted through. He could not save them. She could not change that if she cared to, but, her eyes had been opened to the truth. The galaxy was overrun with small men with even smaller minds. There was so much work to do. So little time.

So much time.

“This breed is so fragile. How do they maintain sovereignty?”

A legitimate question. Her world was one of monsters and godly beasts. A place where the sun never rose, where it remained set, and light dared not touch the shores. Were they deceivers? In her experience many species that survived, when they should not, resorted to extraordinary levels of intelligent cowardice. Sneaking. They deserved to be punished were that the case. “And why do they insist on this ritual? Do they not have meaningful gains to obtain?”

Her questions betrayed the fact that she was curious. Elyria had spent so long peering through the eyes of others that the waking world was foreign to her. She required Metus to help her walk in this world. She had become, in a sense, overwhelmed. Almost unsure of her place. Perplexed, bemused, and stricken with the absence of his true self.

Rather than to press the dark woman let her cheek rest against the Sith Lord whilst her form draped around his. The dancing was less evocative than the fact that she allowed him to lead. Raven hair moved in a wind that didn’t exist, twisting, turning, while it occasionally wrapped around pieces of him. Prehensile traits that let her feel her way without ever lifting finger. One thing she liked, however, one very rare thing—Was music. She never voiced it. Never asked for it, but, she seemed almost content when dulcet notes from polished strings hit the air. Her feet moved in time with that of her partner. Never missing a step. Following, following.

“This…”, she breathed, barely a whisper, while breathing in his scent. “Is terrible.”

Terrible. But, she remained. Compliant. Non-Violent.

For now.

 

[Kyyrk]

WEARING: Dress Armor
TAGS: Talak Jenste
​

Put simply, Voph was bored. Since his appointment to Lord Vizier, he'd rarely had a moment's peace. Between his duties there, and his duties on Vylmira, Voph was a busy man. It was a good thing he was not a creature of sleep. But it was times like this that reminded him just how dull the moments of nothing had become. He missed the flow of work, the deluge of tasks. It kept him occupied. Kept his mind busy.

But tonight, he had little to entertain him. He kept a drink close at hand, and an earpiece perched in his ear. Sadly, Voph had little to keep him entertained even then. Just a reel of news stories from the Holonet. Another faction rising to power. Another trade deal making things better for everyone. A new corporation established on Coruscant. Another batch of refugees disappearing on Nar Shadda. The same old story it had been for eons.

Voph lifted his glass to his lips, and took a sip of...whatever it was they had decided to serve. Nothing he would have gone out of his way to obtain. He sighed quietly. Patrolling the outskirts of the party was proving slow. Monotonous. That was, until he happened across another confederate doing the same. He nodded in greeting to Talak Jenste as he approached. "Lady Mataan. We meet again. I assume your dress looks lovely." An odd sentiment from him. But not inaccurate. As a blind species, he did not place the same level of importance on appearance, even though he himself was immaculately groomed and dressed. "I must ask you refrain from having such fun. One might think you were not enjoying yourself." He grinned slyly as he joked, lifting his glass for another sip. "How have you fared since last we met?" Voph noticed in the midst of this that the girl was not alone. A Jawa had wandered in. Been invited? Voph didn't know. Nor did he care. It was only a Jawa. Right?

Voph turned to glance at the shorter being, arching a brow slightly for reasons indiscernible by looking at him. But a nod of greeting was offered none the less.

 

[Amelia von Sorenn]

Location: Kiffu (Grand Hall)
Attire: Crimson Gown
Objective: Enjoy the Evening
Post Count: I
​

From the outside looking in, one could see that the Confederacy was a rather eclectic group of individuals whose own uniqueness and eccentricities only grew by the day as additional worlds joined the fold. She had in truth lost count of how many of these soirees that she had attended in recent memory since the apparent victory of the costume party not too long ago. As per the standard, she had arrived precisely as she deemed fit, neither early nor too late into the evening's festivities. For the moment the woman had already decided that she would stay away from the dance floor, often not being one to imbibe such an activity - rather choosing at all times to refrain from being that close to an individual unless she was feeding or there had been any other such fade to black noteworthy activity.

Carefully bringing the glass she cradled in her hand to her lips, she took a long sip of the sanguine liquid that was contained within the crystalline goblet. A soft sigh of contentment slipped from her lips as she began to wonder just what species she was enjoying at that moment. Still, with the Confederacy ever continuing to grow, it was becoming easier and easier to find various means to supply the Vampirika population with the nourishment that their unique physiology required. Golden orbs carefully surveyed the room, slowly moving over the various individuals of note and those that she'd never seen nor met before this instance - or perhaps she had made their acquaintance previously and merely forgotten in the hustle and bustle of her station as High Marshal.

For her part when it came to the formal attire of the evening, she'd found a rather stunning gown. A deep crimson that nearly matched the liquid she was enjoying in her glass - and at the very least it would blend in well should she befall an accident that would result in a spilled drink. With a soft smile and a graceful gait, she slowly made her way around the edge of the dancing couples and those whisperers and gossipers that focused on certain individuals. Of course, it was difficult to not pay attention to the Jawa that had found its way into the Grand Hall; however, she found it more amusing than anything else and deemed the little creature a necessity for an enjoyable evening.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

Objective: Do the Protecc
Wearing: xxx
Tag: Open | Kiskla Grayson-Matteo | Alkor Centaris

---

​

Tonight was different. Yes, it was a party, and yes Gerwald should have been in a suit, but there were enough of the Confederacy's highest ranking officials in attendance, as well as those representing Kiffu. The ball would be a prime target for the Cabal, or any other organization which considered the beacon of galactic freedom to their enemy. To that end Gerwald had gladly volunteered to forgo the restrictions of formal attire for the freedom of his new armor. Apparently word of his less than clothed exploits on Goblah City and as a result armor which would shift with him was crafted.

Eyes fell to the man who was in charge of the present Knight Obsidian guard detail, one Alkor Centaris. A small amount of animosity and resentment lay beneath surface of Gerwald's emotions. The man held a ring, one which contained the soul of the only person in his life Gerwald could ever say truly loved him for who he was. What kind of love that was, that was still uncertain, but it had led Gerwald to love her in return, and to a depth he did not know he could love anyone. He was desperate to bring her back, if only to tell her. What came from it, only time would tell. One thing was certain, however, Alkor had known, contributed to her continued suffering, and Gerwald should have been told.

The lupine shifted his gaze to one of the primary assets for the night. The ruler of Kiffu. Gerwald still was adjusting to societies where women ruled and the men served. Stewjon had not been such a one. There was an equality that Gerwald valued, curious if Kiffu was the same way or if this woman was more akin to the witches he knew. Curious eyes watched as he came as close as he dared as a guard. He would watch her interactions and make a few of his own. Tonight was a work night for the newly appointed Master.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Attire: Black Queen
Location: Grand Hall, Kiffu
Tag: The Lord of Hunger | Open

"I am humbled in my ability to meet your exacting standards, Lord Nargath. Were that those in attendance were simply more pleasing to the eye to make their presence more sufferable." Not that Vytal expect Credius to have changed since last they met. Nor that she thought less of him for his lofty attitude. His demeanor was more in line with those of Dathomir than most offworlders, and for that she understood where the man stood. Also the threat he could pose were it in his best interest to do so.

She extended the glass Credius had acquired for her out toward him as a cheer. "Painful necessities we suffer. This galactic civilization flouts its pomp and ceremony whenever it can to demonstrate their power without risking their lives. A parade of puppetry with its masters ignorant how easily the strings could be cut, and they left utterly defenseless." If you could not fight then you held parties. If you could not wield a sword, then you could wield commands over those that could. In the end it was all 'smoke and mirrors.' Except for some that stood at the height of this charade... "That said," Vytal turned slowly to look down the way toward the woman that oversaw this affair.

Kiskla Grayson-Matteo certainly appeared as bored with the ceremony as Nargath and herself were. Not that they hated to 'mingle', but they did hope to mingle with people that could do more than talk of otherwise banal matters.

"Have you managed to find any suitable to your tastes? Lackluster as most might be, there must be some of interest." As lofty his expectations might be, Vytal couldn't imagine an entire planet was bereft of value for his aims.

 

[Talak Jenste]

Attire: [Long Black Dress / Hairstyle]
Carrying: Lightstaff (hidden)
Location: Kiffu (Grand Hall)
Tag: Kyyrk | Moe Uilor | Open​

Taiia turned when she heard the Jawa she was thankful for the translating droid odd though it may be. She smiled toward him and nodded “As a matter of fact my Jawa friend I am but” she Lowered herself a bit closer to his height and spoke softly. “Though such important business should not be conducted with so many distractions here I assume you have a shop I can visit you at? Perhaps after the party?” She smiled warmly to him raising the charm to maximum, she knew Jawas were willing to sell anything for a price and if you were willing to haggle you could walk away on the winning side so long as you kept your whits about you, otherwise you might be buying back your own property. It was at that moment Voph had arrived at her side and she stood to her full measure.

"My Lord Voph" she smiled and bowed slightly "I would like to think it is lovely yes. Admittedly though I am biased" she chuckled a bit at Voph suggesting she was not having any fun. "Oh but me and my Jawa friend Moe here were just having an interesting chat about buying a droid, as I told him I am actually in the market for one" there was a hint of playfulness in her voice of course Voph would easily pick up on that. "I have fared well, I have spent some time among the Mandragora. Nightmother Vytal encouraged me to stay with them on Ryloth for as long as I wished. We have had an interesting exchange of knowledge" he would likely be able to tell she seemed a bit more certain, wiser about things a core strength had increased in her, confidence perhaps.

 

[Galaar Fett]

Location: Dance Hall
Wearing: Best suit
Tags: Calixte Diantha | Moe Uilor

​

Ever since they had been able to get the beginnings of their new home for the Clan set up, there had been a lot more time for Galaar and Cali to take time to themselves. That time was more often than not filled with hunting of their own personal targets, as they still had targets on their heads from the hutt clan. This meant that finding time to just spend together, outside of firefights and bombings, was scarce and tough to find. When the opportunity came for them to fly out to an smaller planet on the edge of Confederate space and enjoy what was supposed to be an incredible party in a classy environment, he had jumped at the opportunity. The older Mandalorian did, however, keep the redhead in dark until they got there. It had been quite long since they had gotten the chance to relax, it felt good to be able to surprise her with some good fun.

As he landed the shuttle they had stolen for the night at the valet pad, taking her hand and pulling her from the copilot seat, his eye gave a little twinkle of mischievousness as he pulled her close. “Tonight is all about us relaxing and having fun together. No work, no distractions. Think you can handle that, little vixen?” He closed his sentence off with a little kiss to her forehead and a squeeze of her hand. Tonight was going to be fun. That much he was going to make sure of.

With the shuttle landed safely, the ramp was lowered soon after with Galaar taking the lead out of the small ship. Everything about the environment was absolutely gorgeous. Even if this was supposed to be a festival celebration, the idea of it being a black tie event certainly wasn’t lost. Small hanging lights circled the landing pad, then led their way inside. They almost had the appearance of tiny, dancing stars, which was fitting for the night sky that seemingly had it’s own display of twinkling lights spread out through the dark space. Once the pair was inside, the decorations became no less fitting that the exterior. The interior of the celebration hall was no less breathtaking than the outside. String lights dotted the ceiling, while what sounded to be a wind ensemble played somewhere. The place was also quite packed, electing a slight chuckle from the greying haired man. “Not ever like us to be early, is it, my dear?”

​

 

[Malok]

B A L L R O O M​

Tag: Darth Elyria
Attire: Black...And A Little White

The discontent was palpable.

But was the Vicelord even a little bit surprised? No. It came not as a shock that a scowl dominated the expression of his companion this night. He was not caught off guard by her feelings on the matter. It was on a rooftop some time ago that she had opened his eyes to her way of thinking. An admittedly painful glance into what was to come - or rather, what could be - had colored Darth Metus' expectations of the woman. From whence she came, dominance was her reality. For one as long-lived as her, it made no sense to spend moments commemorating bonds that were forged.

The celebration, therefore, was foreign and anathema to her.

But there were other things about Darth Elyria that did not cause him alarm. Since opening his eyes during Adron's event, they had been a touch more honest with one another. Knowing what could come had inspired Darth Metus to once again dive into the abyss. Thus far, she had not commented on his growth - though her hair seemed to enjoy the changes. More often than not, her locks moved with a mind of their own. Always in contact - never far away. Moreover, she allowed him to be close. Close enough to dance, for example.

Thus, as she expressed her dissatisfaction, a low chuckle would huff past the man's nostrils. "And how do you think it will be once we attain our goals?" came his timely response. "Do you think I will allow wanton death inside my house? Disorder? I'm not a Mandalorian you know." Her next words were a series of questions, regarding how in the world the natives maintained sovereignty. Or perhaps it was a question of humanity overall. The Sith's head tilted ever so slightly in thought.

"If you're speaking of this world specifically, community comes to mind. For as long as I can remember, they have been integral parts of whichever regional power rises. The Protectorate. The Alliance." He paused - not out of collecting his thoughts. Rather, because she had finally done something that did catch him offguard. Her cheek came to rest upon his chest. So simply. Nothing was simple with Darth Elyria - and yet, here they were. "Humanity as a whole runs through too-short lives. It's no surprise that important matters are remembered as fondly and often as possible."

This...Is terrible.

Darth Metus gave the woman a bonafide grin as she expressed her discontent once more. Amidst the shaking of his head ever so slightly, he answered. "Am I that poor of a dancer?" His question, though rhetorical, was sure to illicit some sass from the woman. If there was one modern skill she had been cultivating, it was a very dangerous level of sarcasm. Sometimes, the Sith couldn't tell when she was jesting or if a cataclysm was nigh. Just the way she liked.

But beyond the chuckles, Darth Metus leaned closer. His voice a touch lower - simply so that his words would reach her and her alone. "We have eternity. Even now, your guidance is being followed. The time that was lost is being made up for. There's no harm in enjoying a few hours - with me."​

 

[Subject 73 Red]

Objective: Guard the party. Have fun (You've been ordered too.)
Tags: Kyyrk , Talak Jenste , Moe Uilor , Open!

Red walked around the party. He was dressed in clothes he wasn't normally seen in. He was actually in nice clothes. Usually, he was in battle armor, exercise clothes, and rarely in casual clothes. He was rarely ever in fancy clothes. He considered it unnecessary, and completely ineffective in battle. He was always thinking in terms of strategic importance. Tonight, though, he was wearing nice clothes.

And he was ordered to.

Yep, one of his commanding officers had ordered him to dress up nice, attend the party, do a bit of guarding, and to mostly have fun. The commanding officer decided Red needed a break, but Red would never take one willingly. So, the officer ordered him to go to the party in fancy clothes, and have fun.

And Red couldn't deny an order from an officer.

Red was dressed in his military dress uniform, which was mainly used for important or fancy events, such as this one. His red hair still stood out, but it seemed to be a bit cleaner and nicer than it usually seemed to be. His uniform was black, with a few other colors poking out here and there.

He walked around the party. So many people. So much to take in. Everything was too clean and sparkly and meant to grab your attention. Even the people were dressed up in clothes meant to get your attention. There was just so much to absorb. As Red was always paying to attention to even the smallest details, this was almost unbearable. He actually felt slightly nauseous. It wasn't too bad, he could manage it, he'd managed worse, but it was still there.

He looked around the room. Then, he noticed some people he recognized. He saw Talak Jenste in a black dress, talking to a Jawa. He then saw Kyyrk approach them. Well, maybe he could try to socialize.

He walked over to them. "Taiia, Voph. Good to see you both. It's been a while. You both look great. Is that the image you're going for? I don't know, people are too weird. Anyway, how have you guys been?"

Then, he turned to the Jawa. "M'um m'aloo eyeta. How are you? Are you enjoying the party?" He told the Jawa. Yeah, he knew Jawaese. He had to learn a lot of languages back in the labs.

 

[The Lord of Hunger]

Attire: [X]
Postcount: 3
Tags: Vytal Noctura | Kiskla Grayson-Matteo | Open
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Taking a swig from the liquor contained in the glass he was holding, the viceroy of Eriadu let out a soft chuckle in regards to the question posed by the Nightmother. Ofcourse she was right though, there were people around that had managed to at the very least catch his interest, not in the least the woman sitting upon the throne, with her stoic and almost bored-looking demeanor, she simply gave off a similar vibe to the Nightmother herself and he himself as well. "I generally don't mind mingling with likeminded people, people that see no benefit in forced devotion and respect, that don't believe in the idea of mere parties to solidify relations," He glanced at the gathered officials from Kiffu and could only sigh, as they remembered him mostly of his younger brother at home: a brilliant businessman and decent politician, but weakwilled, easily manipulated and tempted by veiled offer all too quickly. "For me, even the Vicelord himself falls into that category. There is too much delegation and decentralization within the CIS, so as always for me, it is in my best interest to sway a planet's political and corporate powers to my vision and my design."

Letting out a sigh, he noticed that the aforementioned Vicelord was actually present with a woman who's very aura seemed steeped in mystery and shadow, resembling the Nightmother's own vibe whenever he meet her. Apart from her name and rank, there was little information on Vytal Noctura he could get his hands on, making her quite fascinating and less boring than the usual politicians around. "Would you mind?" Holding his hand towards the nightmother, the viceroy smirked as he nodded towards the vicelord and his companion at the dancefloor. "It is perhaps not a question you'd get much often given your culture and line of work, but would you perhaps allow me to be your partner in a dance, my dear Nightmother?"