Populate The Black Summer || HERE'S THE THING [ ME Populate of Empty Hexes ]

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Objective 3
The Hot Springs of Roon
Mandalorian Fortress Exterior
Interacting with: Alyvia Toss
Nearby: Aether Verd Acier Moonbound


Sibylla listened closely, a soft smile lingering as Alyvia spoke. There was something refreshing about her excitement that Sibylla couldn't help but admire it.

It was nice to see such honesty upfront for a person who rarely saw it without a shell of a polite mask in front of it. It was one thing she was learning regarding the Mandalorians. There was no guile. What one saw is what one would get. There was no need to show it otherwise like the Royal House courts back on Naboo.

"Three hundred feet?" she repeated, eyes wide. "That's incredible. I can't even picture something that big." Born and raised on Naboo she couldn't quite fathom a dish that long.

When Alyvia finished, Sibylla's smile widened in genuine warmth.

"I'd like that very much," she said warmly, retrieving her datapad with graceful ease. "Here is my comm line. Send the details as they come to you. I daresay a Mandalorian feast might do my colleagues some good. It would be an excellent exercise in diplomacy... and digestion."

And more than that, she thought privately, it could help. Food had a way of bridging gaps that politics never could. It made people sit, listen, and share without needing to prove anything first.

However, when Alyvia asked if she ever felt too young in her own skin, Sibylla paused.

Hmm...That wasn't a question she heard often and it deserved more than a practiced answer.

"Yes and no," she replied quietly as she mused on it, "On Naboo, age isn't the measure of readiness. One must pass a series of aptitude tests in school to demonstrate an understanding of the principles of governance and responsibility. Voting, leadership -- these are earned through merit, not age."

She glanced out over the balcony again, the wind picking up strands of her dark hair and sending them flying into the wind as she thoughtfully continued, returning her attention back to Alyvia.

"I've been in politics since I was eight. First with the Legislative Youth, then assisting my father during his ambassadorial work. I was trained and molded for this path. Princess of a city-state. Junior Representative. Ambassador." She paused. "And maybe more, if the people will it."

She looked back at Alyvia with quiet clarity.

"So, yes, some might say I'm young. But I've never had the time to dwell on it. There's always been something expected of me, either by Naboo or my House. And when duty calls before you even learn to question it... you answer it."

Before either could say more, movement drew her attention. The Mand'alor entered with another individual beside him, Acier Moonbound . Who could this be?

Sibylla brought her hand to her chest and inclined her head in formal and warm greeting to Aether.

"Doing well, Mand'alor. I've just had the pleasure of meeting Clanswoman Alyvia of Clan Toss, and I must say I'm now both enlightened and incredibly hungry." Her smile grew wider in rare playful mirth.

"She's offered to share more about Mandalorian regional dishes. If all goes well, a feast may soon be in the works. One I'd be honored to host… and very eager to taste."

 

[Tarre Priest]

OBJECTIVE I: Forge
TAGS: | Zayid the Lion | Adonis Angelis IV | Athena Faar

The Iron-Lightning Hammer slammed down upon the heated beskar. Sparks flying from the scale flaking off by cooling from the air around it. The hammer came down again and again. its strikes almost lighting up the entire forge with its brilliance in the beskar being forged by hand for many things. In this case, a kal. A dagger for the Mandalorians to use as a field knife, or a last resort weapon. Yet from behind the helmet, came the baritone singing of my voice. A poem made manifest of its tune and tone. Singing away with its rites of shadow and war.

Booten wooten lanlock vootem,
Al a sinkee dunken pooten,
Achta werda verda roll,
Poonka dunkee loten cho!

Each slam of the hammer was in tune with the accents of the Mando'a being spoken. The strikes sending more sparks everywhere as a face came up. Even as he spoke, asking for materials to be made for him, The helmet nodded to him as the reflection of heated beskar played off of the dark visor. I just continued to sing and work upon the job I was doing. Another coming up and showing himself to be near me.

Leeber soong whar tung tach picta,
Manner manner migta richta,
Schelecht varn toom-soing pa ho-grunten,
Gersh ve dala funken mimpa,
Droit!
To Gropen wettkampf Zunken!

Once the blade was done, I tossed it into the oil can. It bubbles and hissed as the heated metal fell to the bottom. I turned to the other who had came. The man requested. it was a sharp look aimed at him. Interrupting my work with a personal commission for him. The chains can be used for a blade, and the armor to be turned into a shield. I nodded my head.

"The chain will be easy to work. The armor less so. Break down the armor."

Pointing over to the hydraulic press, my other hand gripped his shoulder hard. The crushgaunts wouldn't hurt him, but they were useful when forging Beskar. It was enough of a pressure to let him know that he would not be sitting on the sidelines so easily.

"Set your visor to adjust to the glow. Don't kill your eyes. Take the armor, put it into the press with the wedge implements. Press a crease into the armor as a weak spot. Then put on the sheerer attachment and break the armor into pieces. The smaller the better. No melting here. Melting ruins the metal. So no. Don't ask stupid questions like that."

The young man wanted to learn. he wanted to watch and understand. So I would give him the jobs that would be easier to do. That pretty much anyone could do. In the mean time, I would work on the chain. Using the tongs, I picked up the chain and fed it into the furnace. The jets streamed over the chain links to heat them. Reaching the critical heat stage for me to use a wedge and small simple hammer to pry them open. Breaking through the sub-par welding job.

Turning to face the other Mandalorian, the visor dead set onto his. I may have been a little harsh to them, but they were in my spot of the forge. If they were going to be potentially in the way, I was going to put them to work.

"You need something else?"

 

[Torva Vikar]

Direct Tag: Aether Verd
Others Nearby: Sibylla Abrantes // Alyvia Toss // Incitrix // Niijima Izumi // Kirae Orade // Kayte Toss
+ Open
​

Torva was still getting to know the ones that called themselves “Mandalorians”; she was slowly learning about them, their culture, their way of life…trying to see if it was something she could adapt to herself. She’d interacted with a handful of the warriors thus far, and had not turned down their company, or their various invitations to learn more about their way of life.

Not long after her first interactions, she was given the invitation to visit the distant planet called Roon, the place where the ancient forebearers of the Mandalorians lived. She was told that it would be a good opportunity for her to meet others who were like her - new, unsure about what lay ahead of them in life, or if they wanted to be a part of the unique culture that the Mandalorians were so fiercely proud of. Reluctantly, she agreed to go. And luckily for her, there was public transports available to take her there - as she didn’t yet know how to fly, nor did she own her own spacecraft.

She didn’t know what to expect, truthfully. Didn’t know where she would stay, but ever since her home had been burned to ash - she had relied on the warriors to help her find food, clothing, and shelter. They provided, and she accepted the aid. Surely, it would be no different on Roon, or wherever she ended up at her journey’s end. She took with her what little belongings she now had to her name - a few changes of clothes and a trench coat to ward off foul weather.

Torva, along with others, landed on Roon, in a place that had been built into a fortress of Mandalorian strength and unity. An old citadel nestled in the shadow of nearby mountains had been rebuilt and repurposed and it was here that the young red-head found herself. More specifically, she found herself headed towards the Hot Springs that lay on the exterior of the Fortress. It sounded like it would be a good place to relax and find a moment of peace; a change of scenery from her fire ravaged homeworld of Ketaris.

Torva found a private place to change into something a little more appropriate for the Springs, though if she was honest with herself she was far more exposed than she would have liked: a sleeveless shirt and trousers that had been cut into shorts, was what she had to wear for the occasion. Her burn scars, healed but still fresh, were exposed on her left side, and she was still very much sensitive about others seeing them. Of course, when she arrived at the location of the Springs, it became quickly apparent to her that others had the same idea as well. She had hoped to maybe soak in a pool alone, but she silently mused that this would go against the very reason on why she had even come.

To socialize, and get to know these people better.

Plucking up her courage, the young woman warily eyed others present, before she slipped into the warm waters.

Almost instantly, the heat seeped through her skin and penetrated through to sore muscles and bruises still healing from her injuries. And though it stung her scars briefly, the pain transformed into a sensation that made her eyes close briefly in relief.

Despite her nervousness about being around others…this was exactly what she needed. Everything around her ceased to exist for a few precious moments, and Torva was able to just exist. She slipped under the surface to fully submerge herself in the water, letting the heat of it totally envelope her and wash away her stress and concerns, at least for the moment. After several heartbeats, she returned to the surface for a breath of air before she found a place nearby to lounge and continue soaking.

Here, she silently observed all those around her who were nearby, content to rest in peaceful silence but willing to engage with others should they wish to do so. Most, actually nearly everyone here, was new to her. Except for one individual, the one known as the ‘Mand’alor’.

He greeted everyone, asked how everyone was faring. Torva silently agreed that this was, indeed, just what the doctor ordered while she watched to see who responded and who decided to mind their own business. In a lull of responses, she chose her moment to respond back to the man. “Not too bad, I suppose. Especially now that I’m here.”

It was clear that she was still uncertain about being surrounded by people she didn’t really know, but at least she was willing to try. Bright blue eyes turned to take in the scenery around the Fortress; the mountains that rose to touch the sky beyond them all, the wilderness, and the way the steam curled off the warm water’s surface.

“...hot spring is nice. And you can’t beat that view…”

​

 

[Talohn Atar]

Talohn had been interested in the forge, personally. But given this was their first proper date since he got back, and she did miss him so, Zlova got the pick of where they went this time around. He knew what that meant. While the market was a viable option, he knew where he was going to end up. If there was a beach or anything akin to it, that was going to be her pick. The hot spring fit those qualifications exactly.

He typically avoided water. It was in the nature of his race to do so. Whether it was their dense bodies making the task of swimming not ideal, or generational trauma from the great drowning years ago, it was anyone's guess. But it was only waist deep, right? He'd deal with it. For her. Though admittedly, it's not like he could turn down the prospect of Zlova in swimwear. On top of that, with how long they'd been apart, any time spent with her was a joy.

Thus, he found himself in an odd circumstance. A fair amount of the mandalorians attending the baths probably wore their armor there and then took it off when they arrived. Talohn was not going to lug his set all the way there only to take it off. He was already in a simple pair of blue swim trunks and a pair of sandals as he emerged from his ship. A white towel hung from about his shoulders. The typical attire he wore hid it, but it was a tad baffling how much of a thin creature he was despite his level of strength 6'2 with well formed lean muscles and every so slightly lank limbs, covered with grayish blue fur and black stripes along the sides of his body that matched the ones on the back of his neck and cheeks.

The cathar made his way down the ramp of Zlova's ship, his home for the duration until he found another ship that struck his fancy like the crimson wolf had before the crash, and made his way towards the entrance tunnel. He leans on the wall beside it. He looks up at the sky beyond the jagged peaks, taking in a deep breath of the cool mountain air while he waited for Zlova to emerge from the ship as well. Once she makes her way towards the tunnel, he grins, showing off those long incisors. "Think they got drinks in there?"

Zlova Rue

 

[Jonah]

BAZAAR, MANDALORIAN FORTRESS

Jonah couldn't help it. The moment the blades rang out in harmony, his smile broke free, unguarded and genuine. The sound was clean and confident, the kind of song only beskar could carry. He had heard it before, plenty of times, but something about the way she struck them together gave it a texture all its own.

He took the offered knife with a low whistle and turned it over in his hands. It was a thing of purpose. Not flashy, not ceremonial. Just solid work. Real work. He drew it in a smooth motion from his side as if it were already sheathed there, then angled his wrist to catch the light across the mono-edge. The weight sat just right in his grip. A little forward-heavy, but that was the point. It was meant to come down hard and end things quick.

As she talked, he let her words fill the space. Kestri foundry. Vibro-motor. Duranium. Gangs fighting under domes. It was the kind of story that earned respect...not just because of the specs or where it was forged, but because she believed in it. It wasn't some shelf-sitter made for tourists. It was made for people like them.

When she finished, Jonah gave a satisfied nod and glanced at the second blade laid out beside them. His finger hovered just above it before he met her eyes again.

“I’ll take them both,” he said, voice warm with conviction. “Name your price.”​

Tag: Ranna Sejast

 

[Zlova Rue]

Roon. Again. Mandalorians could never help themselves. The Twi'lek had been ambivalent at first until she remembered the hot springs. A Sith Lord was the last person people imagined relaxing, but what was the point of unlimited power if you could soak in a hot spring? Crushing little people under your heel and shooting lightning from your fingers tips only remain exciting if you changed things up now and again.

Talohn hardly looked thrilled at the idea, of course. Hardly a surprise. Cat never had been one for deep or wide pools of water. It was the fur and lack of giant oceans on Cathar. Then again, the man had gone and gotten himself stranded on a planet and Zlova had been tearing the galaxy apart looking for him. Why shouldn't they take the opportunity to relax for once? She'd clutch the feline to her bosom in the water until he relented, if need be.

Unlike her feline, the Lethan had no such problems figuring out how she'd get from the ship to the pool. Armor was only for extremely special occasions to satisfy Talohn and not because of either culture nor protection. Red women didn't walk around in tin cans. People were meant to look at them, and always know they couldn't have them. It was the literal point. Unless you were a cute, insane cat that hadn't gotten the memo about dating crazy Sith Lords.

Wearing a sleeveless black top and shorts, Zlova strode down the ramp to the planet's surface. "Of course." She strode straight over to the man, her chin tilted up to regard him with her bright, golden gaze. "There will be a lot of thirsty people around once we show up." So they'd better have something for the guests to quench their thirst. No one needed Zlova to be the one "quenching" anything.

Talohn Atar​

 

[Talohn Atar]

"Hope you're right. I'll need cold drinks. Not like I can sweat. Us cathar pant, but I'd really like to avoid that. It gets me weird looks across the board." He huffs, tapping his chin. "Probably gonna see if I can get myself a smoothie. Or a slush." As she steps up to him, he leans in to press his forehead to hers, a chuckle leaving him. "Let's get this over with, shall we?" Despite the words he used, he was smiling bright as could be, merely giving a bit of wit to go with his obvious happiness to be there with her.

As they would begin to make their way down the tunnel, he'd put an arm about her waist to hold her close. He'd been very affectionate since he got off that rock he was stuck on. Not that such was too different from how he was before though. Either way, who could blame him? He'd spent every day listening to a holorecording of her voice. It was all of her he had in a universe that, for two whole years, seemed so unfathomably far beyond the atmosphere of an inescapable planet. "It's not as hard as I was afraid it would be, but..." He looks around at the various others going through the tunnel towards the hot spring as well. "It's sorta weird to be seeing this much sentients at once again, even now. The smartest thing on Kammia were the nexu. I'd go whole months without saying a word. Not that you'd believe it with how much I'm talking now." He snickers.

As they entered the steams of the bath, which made it somewhat hard to see who was present, he overheard the voice of Aether echoing across the spring, asking how those present were faring. The cathar, a cheshire grin on his face, responds. "Help! You're aunt's making me get in the water," he cackles, leaning in to give Zlova a peck on the cheek before he sits down at the edge of the water, plunging his feet into the pool. Water was...exactly as he remembered it. Wet. Ugh. The warmth was somewhat refreshing, but it was the steam rising that he enjoyed more. The way rose and drifted through his fur was a much more pleasant feeling than the water. He was going to take a few moments to enjoy it. He already knew he was on a timer before Zlova would drag him in.

As his eyes finally adjusted to the steam, he was able to see the others more clearly. He whistles. "Lotta new faces." The cathar gave a wide grin that made that incisor accented maw visible. A somewhat intimidating sight to those who did not know of his jovial nature. "Name's Talohn Verd. Feel free to introduce yourselves, should it please you. Been looking to make new friends since I got off of Kammia."

Aether Verd Zlova Rue Zel Sharratt Kirae Orade Zee Caromed Incitrix Sibylla Abrantes Torva Vikar

 

[Persephone Halcyon]

​

Location: Hot Springs [Roon]
Objective: Relax
Tags: Aether Verd | [Open]

_____________________________________________________​

The steam curled lazily around her as she leaned back against the smooth edge of the stone hot spring, bare shoulders kissed by the lingering warmth of the late afternoon sun. Her golden hair was piled into a loose knot on the top of her head, little streamers escaping, framing a heart-shaped face. Hazel eyes that were half-lidded, tracked the drifting clouds overhead, guessing what animal shapes they made.

She hadn't seen the Mythosaur some foundlings were giggling about, but she was pretty sure the fa,t puffy one overhead at the bare minimum resembled a bantha. Regardless, she exhaled a peaceful breath. How was it that life was calmer, more nonviolent now than it had ever been before? Persephone had spent much of her life sequestered in enclaves that were not quite of the Mandalorian variety…But no one needed to know that.

The tanned young woman didn't want anyone to look too deeply at her past.

Not because she'd done anything wrong or illegal, but because she was pretty sure the whole community would look at her differently. Clan Solenya had adopted her wholeheartedly, but it didn't take much to make people suspicious, especially while she was still learning the culture and occasionally made mistakes. Her skills in healing were valued when everyone came home with wounds and diseases that few knew how to cure. She could do that. She could help, in this way, without drifting back toward the person she had been. She was…

Tired of war, but most importantly, she was tired of being on the wrong side of it.

Persephone could at least help others within the Mandalorian Empire—There was no shortage of need.

Today was a rarity; rather, this whole week had been. Time off from the clinic to rest and recharge. The silence was a balm. No wounded to tend. No slugthrower fire. No orders barked over comms by a very, very mean senior medical staff member that just liked to see if she would put up with it or quit. Just the hush of water, the soft chirp of distant insects, and the rare, sacred moment of being alone with herself.

She let her fingers trail across the surface of the water.

"So…This is what vacation feels like."

Honestly?

Not half bad.

Persephone might have been born for temples and traditions, but the galaxy had taught her boundaries and how to enforce them. There was nothing wrong or dishonorable with living a simple, quiet life.

She reached up and tightened the back of her swimsuit before crossing her arms on a towel that lay on the edge and rest her head in the cross they made. It was snuggly, warm, and not at all scratchy.

It was nice.

 

[Velda Nar-Donna]

​

WEARING: xoxo | WEAPONS: 1x lightsaber (hidden)

TAG: Jonah | Ranna Sejast

OBJECTIVE: THE BAZAAR
​

Roon,

A world held in the unyielding grip of its sun, Roon spun in a silent, cosmic pirouette, one side ever bathed in eternal daylight, the other perpetually veiled in twilight. Yet, unlike the brutal extremes such a bond often wrought, Roon defied expectation, its surface kissed by a surprising, gentle temperate breath, a testament perhaps, to the deep atmospheric veils or the generous, unseen embrace of its ozone layer that softened the sun's fiery kiss and held back the chilling depths of the long night. Even so, its very nature had long invited shadows, making it a frequent, secret haven for the galaxy's underground currents, its rich history whispered through illicit deals and the silent, heavy tread of those cloaked in the darkest power, often brushed by the very hand of the Sith themselves.

On this day, Roon hosted a kaleidoscope of Mandalore's finest, a convergence of warrior spirit and a shared legacy. Within this vibrant tapestry, Velda found her steps guided toward the pulsating heart of it all, the Bazaar.

It throbbed with a life of its own, a sprawling labyrinth of stalls and faces, alive with the rustle of beskar and the low hum of shared camaraderie. The scent of exotic spices mingled with the tang of forged metal and the fainter, cleaner scent of Roon’s unique flora, a heady mix that spoke of both tradition and thriving trade. Mandalorians in their varied, magnificent armor moved with an easy confidence, their guests a diverse current flowing through the same stream. Each step Velda took was a brush against countless stories, untold sagas etched in armor and worn faces. Yet, her focus, sharp as any honed blade, cut through the throng, seeking out one presence in particular – Jonah

She spied him, a still point in the chaotic swirl, at a stall laden with blades. Rather than announcing her arrival, she let the soft, natural shroud of the Force remain undisturbed around her, a gentle veil that would not betray her presence. Her gaze lingered, taking in the easy way he moved, the thoughtful tilt of his head as he examined the weapons. This quiet observation was quite a luxury, a privilege to witness his unburdened self amidst his chosen brethren. He had walked a path of thorns and fire, his journey through the Force a testament to a spirit forged in defiance. And here, among the Mandalorians, a home had been carved, a brotherhood solidified, and the quiet pride that swelled in her chest was a testament to his tenacity. So much accomplished, a mountain already scaled, and yet, the grand peak still beckoned in the distance. And she, with unwavering certainty, knew he was more than ready to conquer it.

Her approach was deliberate, a slow, unhurried closing of the distance. As she drew nearer, the glint of polished edges drew her eye to the magnificent array before him. An impressive display of sharp intent. None were mere trinkets to decorate a wall or encased in gleaming transpiristeel for display. Each bore the unmistakable mark of purpose, of function over form. They were, in their stark utility, works of art, each curve and edge singing a song of honed lethal efficiency.

She reached his side, a soft, smile gracing her lips as she made eye contact with Ranna Sejast then her gaze drifted to Jonah, her voice a low, knowing tone that carried above the market’s din. “I see you are expanding your collection.” Her eyes flickered to the blade he held, a brief, appreciative sweep before rising again to meet his. “Impressive…”

For the first time since their paths had intertwined, she stood before him uncloaked, unhooded. The shadows that so often clung to her, a natural extension of her power, had been cast aside for the occasion. It felt… rather appropriate for this new stage, a clear demonstration of trust in their shared ventures. As her words hung in the air, she slowly, deliberately, began to unmask her presence in the Force, letting her signature bloom from a tightly leashed whisper into a clear, undeniable resonance. “It’s good to see you again…”

​

​

 

[Aether Verd]

Assets: Beskar'gam | Basilisk
Darksaber | Resolute Dawn​

HOT SPRINGS, MANDALORIAN FORTRESS

Aether leaned back as the warmth of the springs worked its way through the battle-worn knots in his frame. His muscles were finally starting to loosen, his thoughts no longer racing with the demands of the throne. For a few rare moments, he could simply be a man among others. But that peace was soon tempered by a presence he recognized immediately: Acier.

His brother stood at the edge of the pool like a soldier staring down the edge of a cliff. That teal jumpsuit was a dead giveaway he had not come dressed for the occasion. Aether raised his brow and let a dry smile touch his lips.

"Busiest day I've had in awhile..." he said, voice rich with sarcasm. Then he nodded toward Acier's boots. "If you're not going to dive in, at least kick those off and get your feet wet. Let the Springs do their work."

Aether then turned his attention to a nearby form easing into the water. Zee. The Caromed youth had proven himself many times over. Not just as a capable warrior but as a cousin who understood the weight of both blood and duty. Aether met his eyes and offered a quiet nod of acknowledgment before leaning back once more into the water.

He nudged Acier with one elbow and tilted his chin toward Zee. "That’s our cousin, Zee. Great medic and an even better human. Be sure to say hi before you head out, yeah?"

From the corner of his eye, a ripple caught his attention. A familiar face rising from the water. Kirae. Her answer was short and sharp.

"Doing well."

That earned a real smile. The kind that touched more than his lips.

"Any way I can turn well that into a great?" he asked, tone light and teasing. Then he looked back to Acier. "That’s Kirae. Mandalorian Knight. One of Ketaris’ heroes. Her shield held the line when not much else did."

Before he could say more, another voice stirred the quiet. Or rather, several in rapid succession. The historian, Zel, had arrived. True to form, he was already mid-ramble before Aether had even turned his head. The Mand’alor returned the salute with a small incline of his head, then chuckled quietly as Zel launched into a one-sided archaeological analysis directly into Kirae’s ear. Aether made no attempt to hide the smirk that formed. Some things never changed.

He was about to settle again when the balcony caught his attention. His name, not called but spoken. His gaze shifted upward. He hadn’t meant to listen in, but the words carried. Something about a monstrous fish, spices, and a feast? Aether arched a brow.

Sibylla Abrantes of the High Republic turned her attention down to him, offering a formal yet warm greeting. Aether responded in kind with a smile that was both respectful and amused.

"With a chef in our midst, I can’t say I’m surprised," he said, gaze flicking toward Alyvia with a grin. "Though I reserve the right to be the taste tester for anything you whip up. Just to make sure what we serve the Naboo is up to snuff. Totally not because I want to pig out."

The grin widened, followed by a short laugh that echoed lightly off the stone.

Then, with a gesture, he motioned to Acier.

"This one here is my younger brother. Still new to the fold, but I’d wager you’ll be seeing more of him about. Acier, this is Alyvia, one of ours. And that is Sibylla, the High Republic’s ambassador to Mandalore."

Before any more words could pass, another familiar presence made itself known. Aether turned as Torva emerged from the steam. The recognition came easily. One of the survivors of Ketaris. He had seen her among the refugees who had survived the Firebreathers' attack. To see her here now, standing and whole, meant she was still fighting for her place.

He smiled warmly in her direction.

"Glad you made it. The Springs are one of the perks of the job!" he said. Then his eyes tracked movement behind her.

Two more figures approached the waters. One lean and furred. The other red as blood and twice as bold. Aether nudged Acier again, this time with more urgency.

"There. The tall one is your uncle, Talohn. And the woman beside him? Zlova. Your aunt. Talohn’s got a sharp tongue and a sharper sense of humor. Galaxy traveler, too. You two should rub elbows."

When the Cathar called out with his usual dramatic flair, Aether waved and called back.

"If Zlova’s making you take a bath, it’s probably long overdue!"

He shifted, standing fully as the steam curled higher around him. Nearby, protocol droids were weaving through the area. Some carried trays with decorated cocktail glasses. Others bore coolers filled with more practical drinks. His eyes found the latter.

He stepped toward the closest one, lifted the lid, and retrieved a can emblazoned with the sigil of Mandalore. Without a second thought, he tossed it underhanded toward Acier.

"Here's a taste of Mandalore - it'll put hair on your chest." he said. "Enjoy it!"

He reached back in for one of his own but paused when his gaze landed on a face he did not yet know. Or rather, one he had seen but never formally met. Her features were familiar. The healer. The one who had worked alongside the medics on the front lines, patching up warriors on the edge of death. She had always remained on the periphery, quiet and constant. He had never caught her name.

But he was standing. And he had a drink in hand.

Aether turned, plucked a cocktail glass from a nearby tray, complete with a tiny umbrella, and walked the few paces to her side. His steps were casual, his presence unhurried. When he reached her, he stopped with a quiet smile and extended the glass.

"Hope this is to your liking," he began. "You've more than earned it."​

Acier Moonbound , Kirae Orade , Torva Vikar , Sibylla Abrantes , Alyvia Toss , Zel Sharratt , Zee Caromed , Talohn Atar , Zlova Rue , Persephone Halcyon

 

[Zlova Rue]

Zlova wasn't much of the empathetic, hand-holding, it-will-be-alright type of woman. But she did smile and stroke Talohn's cheek as he sought to gather the will to venture forth. A Sith could appreciate someone willing to forge ahead despite the challenges, even if they came from within. It had been important her feline companion did get some exposure around people again, but more important they spend a little time together outside of the ship.

"You always did like to talk," Zlova replied warmly, "and I'm glad that hasn't changed. You always knew how to say things I never would." She was well aware of how disrespectful she could be when she wanted to be; and how cheerful the Cat could be, disarming the masses. "Just remember, sentients aren't any different. They just know how to deceive you with words instead of body language." The Twi'lek chuckled in turn.

He protested, but took a seat before the water regardless. The Twi'lek knelt down behind him and rested her hands atop his shoulders. Lidded golden eyes watched him as he seemed to adjust to the water about his feet. Slow, deep kneading of his shoulders followed suit in silence for a short while.

Once his eyes adjusted, Talohn introduced himself and the red woman behind him pressed forward. One hand slid down from his shoulder while the other slipped under his arm and up his chest. Breasts pressed against his back, she stared out at those around springs. He wanted to be friendly. She wanted to make sure everyone knew where the line was -- Talohn was her's, and a nice day at the hot spring wouldn't stay her hands if they thought to take him from her. A smile graced her lips as she regarded each of them present.

"Zlova Rue."

Talohn Atar ​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Roon - Eastern Mountains

Equipment:
Training Jumpsuit | Lightsaber | Modified DL-27

TAGS:
Sibylla Abrantes Alyvia Toss Niijima Izumi Incitrix Kirae Orade Kayte Toss Aether Verd | Zee Caromed | Talohn Atar | Zlova Rue | Persephone Halcyon ​

When Aether introduced him to Alyvia and Sibylla - an ambassador of the High Republic. Something about them lingered in his mind a moment longer than expected. Alyvia's poise. Sibylla's voice. He wasn't sure what it was, exactly. So instead, he kept them moving.​

​

He offered the two a smile and a nod followed by "Hey." ​

​

A little less than a year ago he was barely given a second look by folks on Bonadan. Now he was brushing shoulders with Jedi Grandmasters, High Republic politicians and was related to the Mand'alor. It was strange how things could change so fast.​

​

Acier gave a short, dry laugh as he caught the can against his palm. "Who says I need hair on my chest?" he muttered, eyeing the label with a skeptical squint.​

​

His dry retorts came easy, but it was a reflex. The warmth in Aether's tone, the way he eased into introducing him to others without pressure, it helped. Just enough to cut through the tight coil in Ace's chest.​

​

He let out a resigned breath and finally kicked off his boots, followed by the rest. The jumpsuit was off, peeled down in silence, leaving him in a pair of dark briefs. His frame was lean, honed by long days of training, and longer nights running into, and through danger. He didn't carry the bulk of a warrior raised for war like Aether, but there was strength in the way his shoulders rolled back and the faint scars that traced his body. Survival was its own kind of discipline.​

​

Stepping into the spring was like stepping into another world. The heat climbed his legs, wrapped around his spine, and tugged loose the tension he didn't even realize he was still carrying. He sank to his shoulders with a soft exhale, tilting his head back as Aether moved on to speak to someone else. Busy man.​

​

Then, one by one, he let his gaze flick to the people Aether had pointed out.​

​

To his cousin, Zee, he offered a nod. It was respectful and curious. To Kirae, a faint smile that vanished almost as quickly as it came. The names Talohn and Zlova echoed in his head. Uncle. Aunt. Still strange. Still distant. But he met their presence with a subtle glance and the quiet gravity of someone who was listening, even if he didn't yet know what to say. It was strange to know he had family after being alone for so long.​

​

He cracked the can open and took a sip. It was colder than expected, a shock against the heat of the water. His expression scrunched briefly.​

​

"…You really drink this stuff?" he muttered to himself.​

​

His fingers drummed on the can for a moment, before glancing up at the balcony. To Alviya and Sibylla, they seemed similar in age to him. He figured he'd try and make conversation with them first. Ace called out to Sibylla.​

​

"You're an ambassador? Aren't you kinda young?" ​

 

[Zee Caromed]

HOT SPRINGS, MANDALORIAN FORTRESS

The springs were filling up. Zee wasn't horribly surprised by that. They were rather nice, and as the feasting and fighting continued there were bound to be people who wanted to transition to a more relaxed, quiet sort of vibe. In his experience there were more folk who'd start active and go to a restful action than people who began restful and moved to a more active. And the number of bodies in the pool would only increase now that the big man himself was here. Even among the Mandalorians, there were sycophants, power-chasers, and entourage members following people in power like remora on a whale. Anyone who thought otherwise was, Zee figured, probably delusional or too religious to see the world clearly.

Aside from acknowledgement of orders in combat or the transmission of medical information at request, Zee could probably count on his fingers the number of times he'd exchanged more than a few words with his cousin Aether Verd . One of the few relatives Zee had outside of his clan, possibly the only he had through his mother's side. Aether was a strong, capable leader who seemed to have a good rapport with the people he worked closest with. None could question his skill or efficacy as a warrior. He'd never once questioned or even looked twice at Zee's fluid presentation, or doubted his abilities. So, overall, while they weren't very close? Zee had a positive opinion of him - typical Caromed caginess aside.

Aether met his eyes and offered a quiet nod of acknowledgment before leaning back once more into the water.

He offered a warm smile and waggled his fingers in greeting. He maintained a distance from the general group that were enjoying the hot springs, appreciating the ambiance of conversation without the pressure of having to participate in it. it was nice to be acknowledged without being singled out or having a spotlight put on him, and Aether seemed to understand that that was what Zee was going for tonight. Zee appreciated that.

To his cousin, Zee, he offered a nod. It was respectful and curious.

The younger man with Aether wasn't known to Zee. He knew him to be a Verd, but that was about it - and that much could be deduced from his position at Aether's side and the way he was being shown off and introduced. Social obligations followed one even into the baths. Zee answered the respectful nod with a slightly brighter smile than he'd offered Aether, propping his chin up on his hand as he leaned on the side of the bath. Aether was, after all, the Mand'alor and due the formal consideration of a respectful greeting in public. Acier Moonbound , however? Well, he was just family. He warranted a smile with teeth and a wave.

​

 

[Zayid the Lion]

R O O N​

War Forge - Mandalorian Fortress

Zayid watched as Adonis emerged from the stairwell, the heat clinging to him like a second skin. The war-born lines of his approach were unmistakable, each step speaking of purpose rather than hesitation. The Lion of Mandalorian turned fully toward him, the visor of his helm catching the forge-light in brief golden hues. When Adonis drew near, Zayid returned the warrior’s clasp without reservation, gripping his forearm with firm respect.

“It is good to see you as well,” he said, his voice low and gravel-worn, but laced with warmth. “May the Manda’s peace walk with you, vod.”

His gaze fell then to the blade between them, the beskad he had laid down with such reverence. For all its beauty, for all the echoes of glory etched into its steel, it bore the unmistakable signs of failure. He looked upon it not as a trophy but as a lesson.

“It was a fine blade,” he murmured, as if to the weapon itself. “Still is, perhaps. But I failed it. I carried it into battle and gave no thought to what came after. When the edge dulled, I pressed it harder. When the hilt cracked, I held it tighter. That was not strength. That was pride.” His head tilted ever so slightly, the gesture measured and somber. “Once it is whole again, I will carry it as it deserves to be carried. With care. With discipline.”

His gaze shifted back to Adonis and the wreckage now spread across the nearby bench. Zayid studied it, noting the marks of fire and violence, the residual stink of conflict not yet washed away by time. His helm tilted forward slightly, interest kindled by the warrior’s intent.

“You said you would forge two things. One for yourself. The other for another,” he said. “Who is this comrade of yours? Would I know the warrior who earned the right to bear your steel?”

Before the answer could come, the forge-master’s voice rose like a crack of thunder. Zayid turned to face the armored figure, the song of hammers giving way to instruction and command. He offered no words in return at first, only a firm shake of the head to the question posed. He required nothing more for himself.

But purpose did not let him stand idle.

“I do not know the first thing about forging beskar,” he admitted plainly, lifting his hands for the smith to see. “But my hands are strong, and I have no other use for them while my blade is being made whole.” He stepped forward, slow and deliberate. “Put me to work. Whatever you need.”

The forge was a place of doing, not watching. If fire and sweat were the rites of the day, then Zayid would not shy from the altar.

Tarre Priest + Adonis Angelis IV​

 

[Ranna Sejast]

Objective 2: THE BAZAAR
Tags: Jonah Velda Nar-Donna

She appreciated him appreciating the Kal. The smile and low whistle as he looked the larger knife over. Her only hesitation was in him wanting them both. To her they should be spread across more Mandalorians, but at the same time he appreciated them, the second might be a gift or spare, and who was she to judge if he wanted to wield two knives at once? Besides, there was no guarantee that she'd sell off the second today, so she nodded back and gave him a reasonable price, Mandalorian to Mandalorian, far less than what someone could get selling Beskar knives like these on the open market but still costly.

Then a real beauty of a woman approached, giving her a smile before turning her attention to Jonah and the blade still in his hands. There was some indescribable quality about her that immediately drew in Ranna's attention, but she eventually put it down to her model-like looks and dress in a sea of natives and Mandalorians and their armors. "I'm glad you appreciate them." She said on Velda's 'Impressive' comment. This newcomer had her feeling like a dumpy third wheel as she moved in on her customer, but it sounded like they knew each other, and she didn't want to push further into their reunion. Instead, she resisted the urge to turn away or busy herself with something else.

 

[Adonis Angelis IV]

Objective I​

Tag: Tarre Priest Zayid the Lion​

Adonis gave Zayid a short nod as he unwrapped the scorched metal on the bench, the scent of slag and burned oil rising from the twisted plates. He ran a gloved thumb along a cracked edge before speaking, his voice steady but low.

"She's a Journeyman Protector. Solid in a fight," he said, visor locked on the metal. "We took down a walker on Onderon. Clean hit, she timed it right."

That was all he offered. Enough to explain the wreckage and the intent behind it.

"I'm forging something from what's left. One for me. One for her."

The sound of hammer and steel broke for a moment as the forge-master's voice cut across the floor. Adonis turned toward it as the man approached, his armor sealed, movements tight and unhesitating. He commanded the attention he brought to himself.

When the crushgaunt landed on his shoulder, Adonis held position. The pressure wasn't cruel, but it was deliberate. He adjusted his visor, nodded once, and got to work.

He grabbed the heavy plate and fed it into the press. The wedge drove a clean crease down its center. He reset the piece and pushed it through again. There was rhythm in the task, and a kind of quiet weight to it.

He wasn't raised for this kind of work. House Angelis had trained him for war- ceremony, precision, honor- but not for the grind of steel or the heat of the forge. Still, he knew his body was built for more than titles. He had the arms, the back, the frame of someone meant to swing a sword, shape armor, and die in a ditch somewhere if that's what the fight called for. The nobility in his blood didn't change the weight he could carry or the sweat it cost. He might not have been born to labor, but he had grown into it. This felt like something honest.

Each piece split under the press and dropped cleanly onto the pile. He worked methodically, hands steady, movements stripped of flair. The forge burned behind him with a constant roar, filling the space with a heat that pressed down on everything like a slow, smothering tide.

After a few more passes, he paused long enough to glance toward Tarre, keeping his tone level but not impersonal.

"That song," he said, without looking directly at him. "Was it from Dha Werda Verda?"

 

[Incitrix]

HERE’S THE THING

Objective: Refresh - Hot Springs (Roon)

Tags: Sibylla Abrantes / Aether Verd / Niijima Izumi / Kirae Orade / Talohn Atar / Zlova Rue / Kayte Toss / Zee Caromed + Others I may have missed


Her thoughts would wander off as she almost forgot that she was in the hot springs after a few minutes. A quick shake of her head brought her back into reality. Once again, she couldn’t quite grab the concept of relaxation. Thoughts of training and future efforts to support the empire drifted through her mind. What else was one to do that was never truly taught how to enjoy time off or luxury.

The Mand’alor’s voice cut through her slowly repressing thoughts. It wasn’t a place Incitrix thought to find the man. Seeing the Alor without a suit of beskar wasn’t something she thought she could fathom. Once upon a time, she didn’t even consider wearing armor. Now she sports beskar’gam every day of the week. Sometimes it was hard to remember what her face looked like. Of course she wasn’t the only Sith Pureblood within the Mandalorian Empire. Though, she definitely stood out like a few other aliens within the faction. A couple of lightsabers hanging off your belt also brought some unwarranted attention from time to time.

Only a simple head nod was presented toward the liege. She couldn’t really bring herself to say anything. Probably would have gotten lost in the mass responses to his arrival. Not too soon after that another Verd appeared. His name wasn’t too familiar to her, but was recognizable. She had caught subtle glimpses of him in the past. In tow with the Cathar also came a red Twi’lek woman. Red skin and Sith tattoos caused her to slowly watch her carefully. It wasn’t out of fear, but out of curiosity. A fellow Mandalorian Knight that she didn’t know too much about. One that also walked the path of Sith. To her, it seemed like Mandalorian “royalty” had seemed to all enter at once.

Incitrix’s eyes would move around the hot springs until she noticed Niijima Izumi with dark hair and fairer skin than herself. A brief moment passed before Incitrix decided to approach her. Maybe it would help pass the time. Just watching her, she could tell that she was definitely… different from the rest of them here. This wasn’t something that was aligned to her personality, but building rapport with others was something that she needed to be better at. Guess this could be a rare practice run.

Slowly moving toward the woman through the water, she purposed to keep herself mostly submerged as she went. Moving to about a meter or so from Niijima Izumi, she would speak. A tone that was firm entwined with kindness. The next words that would emerge from her felt strange passing through her lips.

“Enjoying your time? It’s quite a fine day to relax. My associates call me Incitrix. I’m of the Mandalorian Knights. How are you?”