Darth Avara had a penchant for infiltration, subterfuge and reconnaissance. It was natural that he would attend this ball - disguised, of course. Concealed by Quey'tek Meditation and his appearanced altered to look less like a Sith Lord and more like a regular upstanding citizen. No one would recognise his face, because no one had ever seen it; the benefits of always wearing a mask came to fruition. Avara could be anybody he wished, whenever he wished, wherever he wished. Anonymity was a must for such a man, and he made it paramount that every minuscule part of his outward appearance gave away nothing, yet told everything.
He entered the Lucky Lady, inspecting the surroundings as if he were a regular tourist; a new comer to the scene. He saw several Jedi, and one figure most notable among all; the Chancellor. Avara's lips curled into a smile, appearing courteous, yet hiding deception beneath them. He walked on, making sure to keep tabs upon the Chancellor. Dressed in finely tailored clothes, he looked as nobility should, and he had a smile that could cut through anything. He enjoyed playing charming gentlemen. Pondering on his next move, he placed himself at the bar, ordering a single juma juice, non-alcoholic. Such things were forbidden to him personally, and he didn't wish for his connection to the Force to be dampened. If he slipped, his concealment would be broken, and this night would end with a rather grisly chase through the Coruscant streets.
@[member="Carn Dista"] @Rehka Kaarde @[member="Jack Harkness"] @[member="Joshua DragonsFlame"]