Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private The Lights That Weren’t On (BIRTHDAY BASH!!!!)

As the laughter dwindled and the silver cutlery slowed, Kael rapped his glass with a fork — missing once, then hitting it twice for effect.

"Alright, alright, listen up, you reprobates."
He stood from his chair, shirt open halfway down his chest, glitter dust on one cheek, holding a flute of something bubbling aggressively. "There's only one queen in this castle, and she hasn't said a damn thing yet. Sommer, floor's yours."
 
(Gilded Veil)- Founder / C.E.O.
Applause. Whistles. A few "take it off!"s from a very drunk Zeltron guest.

Sommer rose, barefoot on the marble floor, dress clinging to her frame like black smoke. The stim was still in her system — but now it buzzed like confidence instead of chaos. Her hair was loose, skin radiant with drink and dancing.

She looked over her crowd — her family, chaotic and gleaming.

"You know…" she began, swirling her drink, "I spent most of my life surviving rooms like this, not being the reason they existed."

Silence swept the table.

"I danced for scum, for kings, for no one. I lied to survive, kissed to distract, and smiled to keep from breaking."
She paused — eyes sweeping across Kael, Lismand, In, Arq… Andrew.
"But here? Here, I built the stage. I choose who eats, who drinks, who watches, and who's seen."

A breath.

Then she raised her glass high.
"To the misfits. To the monsters. To the ones who don't belong — but make the galaxy more beautiful because of it. This place is ours. And it always will beeeeeeee....."

The toast echoed like thunder. Glasses clinked. Cheers rang.
 
(Gilded Veil)- Founder / C.E.O.
Suddenly, the dining room dimmed.


One of the Veil's dancers, perched on the edge of the table with cake in one hand and a datapad in the other, gave a sly grin.


"We've got something for you, boss."


The walls flickered with soft light as a holographic video package booted up — projected across the length of the room.


It was chaos incarnate.


Clips from backstage rehearsals: dancers falling during spins, Kael getting hit with a feather boa, Arq trying to twerk and pulling a muscle, Andrew accidentally igniting a small flame while adjusting the lighting rig. Intercut were sincere clips of her dancers talking directly to the camera — moments of laughter, praise, love.


The last clip? A grainy shot of Sommer herself, caught off guard, staring at the club from the balcony with soft awe.



The lights came back up.


Her dancers beamed.


"We love you, Boss!!!"
"You made this home."
 
The room barely had time to breathe before Arq bounced up in a shimmer jacket, carrying a sleek black case.

"Okay, okay, it's my turn."
He opened the case dramatically — inside, a silver-plated award shaped like a dancer mid-spin, and a sealed crystalline bottle glowing faintly.

"First, for operational excellence — because somehow you run the Gilded Veil like a spice ship, and it's still sexy in here."

Laughter. Whistles.

"Second — introducing… No. 0. The official fragrance of the Gilded Veil. Patent submitted. Ingredients classified. Smells like sin, sex, and power. Just like you."


He kissed her cheek and stepped back.
 
Andrew rose slowly. He didn't smile right away — not the showman smirk he usually wore. He looked at her, really looked, and then gestured to the staff at the door.

Three assistants rolled in a massive velvet-lined trunk.

"You said I never spoil you," he murmured, circling her. "So I figured… it's your birthday. Let's go big."

First: a pair of black and chrome heels — too deadly to be legal. They had built-in repulsor lifts, concealed microblades, and a setting called "Silent Stride" that muffled footfalls completely.

Second: a set of miniature weaponry — compact, elegant, uniquely modified. One had a kiss-mark engraved on the handle.

Third: a vacation chip — a holo stamped with three galactic destinations, all luxury, all off-grid. Each one tailored to her tastes.

Then he turned to her, glass in hand.

"You're the only woman I know who can outfight her shadows and outshine the stars at the same time. You built a kingdom, and somehow still left room for the broken things. Including people like me."

A pause. His voice lowered.

"Sommer, if there's ever a rebellion against you — I want to be the last one to surrender."

The room fell into stunned silence.

Then erupted.
 
The party was ending the way all real ones do — slowly, in waves.


Laughter echoed down the stairwell. Someone shouted that they'd lost their jacket, and Arq* Arq* promised to "burn it ceremonially." Lismand Bripear Lismand Bripear kissed Kael on the cheek and vanished into the speeder with two dancers and a dessert tray. In left with glitter on her temple and a sly smile, giving Sommer a wink that said: you did good, boss.


And then — stillness.


The doors slid shut. The lights inside dimmed. The stars outside took over.


Sommer stood barefoot on the balcony, the cool stone kissing her skin. She wore only Andrew's half-zipped jacket and the sheen of moonlight. Her curls were wild now — untamed, free. Her body buzzed from the stim-slip, the wine, the love.


She didn't need to look behind her. She felt him there.


Andrew stepped up beside her, shoulders relaxed, hands tucked into his pockets. He didn't speak right away. Just watched her. Let her breathe.


Below them, Nar Shaddaa's oceans whispered against the cliffs. The Veil's exterior lighting painted gold halos on the water.


"You throw one hell of a party," he finally said, voice low.
 
(Gilded Veil)- Founder / C.E.O.
Silence.

And then: she turned to face him. Slowly. Thoughtfully.

"I used to think love was a weakness," she whispered. "Something to be exploited. A leash. A trap."

She reached out — ran her hand down his chest, over the zipper of her borrowed jacket.

"But you…" her voice faltered slightly, eyes suddenly bright.
"You make it feel like armor."
 
(Gilded Veil)- Founder / C.E.O.
Sommer took a step forward, closing the small space between them. Her chest pressed lightly against his, her fingers now clutching the fabric above his heart.

"I love you."

Three words — dropped like a match into silence.
They burned everything in their path.
 
This time, his kiss was slow — a thank you, a surrender, a promise. His fingers tangled in her hair. Hers gripped the lapels of his coat like she'd fall without them.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless, he whispered:

"Then take me to bed, my Queen."

And she did.

No shadows followed.

Not tonight.
 
(Gilded Veil)- Founder / C.E.O.
The morning was warm before the sun even rose.


Light crept across the ocean like honey — slow, golden, sacred. It spilled through the wide windows of Sommer's cliffside penthouse, casting gentle beams over silk sheets tangled like forgotten gowns. The room smelled of perfume, sea air, and skin. Last night lingered like a heat, not gone but folded into the softness of now.


Sommer stirred first.


She blinked into the sunlight with sleep-glazed eyes, stretching slowly as her bare leg slid across the cool sheets and brushed against Andrew's.
 

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