Public The Way You Look Tonight - Fashion Week on Alderaan (OPEN)

[Claire Organa]

Belleau-a-Lir
Alderaan

Alderaan was known for many things chief among them was the environmental landscaping that married the cities to the land, sea and air around them. An excellent example of this marriage was New Crevasse City. A city built within the walls of the canyon, a city that flourished with kissed with sun and shadows it provided the setting innovation. But when someone wanted to be inspired by art, music, and culture there was only once place to go Belleau-a-Lir.

This city enhanced the relationship of the Alderaani Culture to the world upon which it sat. Here is where the great artists came for their own inspiration.

Now for one week Alderaan, and Belleau-a-Lir would host the fashion industry. Fashion its own form of art it called to people from across the galaxy and bid them to come and see what had been borne from the mind of those kissed by creativity.

Claire was looking over the lists of designers who would be showing this week, the Black Lotus and Blue Lotus Design houses were coming. Claire had only heard of their reputation she looked forward to see the designs, and meeting the artist behind the creations. (Isobel Nakano )

She had to chuckle when the media began asking for passes and interviews. Notably there was one Holly Starstorm a known reporter around the galaxy who would grace Alderaan with her presence. Media always made Claire nervous their short snippets of news often didn't reflect the whole story but then again it was enough to sell the story and increase interest good or badl.

She reciprocated an invite to those she had met at the last show, Baros Sal-Soren , Lady Marina DeVoe - let her come take some more pictures. She even ventured an invite to Mr. Andrew Lonek .

Then there were those who were coming because of the parties and the shows. So many names it was impossible to know them all. But there was a name listed, Senator Seto du Couteau from Empress Teta Claire would need to make sure to meet her and welcome her to Alderaan.

The kick off was tonight there were preparties everywhere across the city of Belleau-a-Lir. The Tradesman hawked their wares down in the market district, the Artists displayed their paintings, sculptures and other various forms of art, and then there was the business district offering opportunities for anyone interested to make a deal. Conference rooms, hotels rooms, and every restaurant was booming with activity. If no one bought a single gown or dress this week it would still be a good week for the trade.

Spoiler

Jonathon Patches Bright1 Osmund Krei A ARS VAMI Tegan Starfall - note this is an open thread anyone may join

 

[Seto du Couteau]

Seto Du Couteau, Senator of Empress Teta
Location: Hotel Lobby, Belleau-a-Lir, Alderaan
Action: Waiting, enjoying the prospect of new tailored outfits
Attire

Alderaan was always seen as a paradise world, a place without conflict but serenity and peace. Of course such a mythos never could maintain such a rosy appearance upon deeper inspection, but Alderaan was a unique planet within the Alliance. Seto himself couldn’t help but smile, his eyes gazing across the beautiful landscape as his shuttle descended into the starport of Belleau-a-Lir. The journey to Alderaan to attend this fashion festivity was a chance to grant himself some reprieve from all the dealings back on Coruscant. Seto made sure the distractions were categorized and only the most apocalyptic matter should reach his ears.

The young Du Couteau heir missed the times when he could simply escape for weeks on end. Without dealing with any consequences from any of his responsibilities. Am I growing old too fast these days. Seto sighed wearily as he stepped outside and into the Star-port, a speeder already awaited him while several droids carried out his luggage.

Even the city itself was made into a grand view, Seto had to admit to himself that perhaps he should venture to find the architects and hire them for a few of his projects. The journey to the hotel was quick, something Seto was thankful for as he stepped out and looked around the nearby streets. There was time to venture out and about the city, his scheduled meetings were going to be taken later in the day. The Senator had his mind set on finding another tailor or two to work on yet another wardrobe set. After-all, it’d be a shame if I can’t replace two seasons worth of clothes. A waste of a trip.

Seto grinned and gave a short laugh at the idea of returning back home and the look of all his family’s face. Clothes were one of the few vices that the young Du Couteau heir kept and passionately pursued despite all that had happened. He remembered telling a doomsayer that if the galaxy was truly coming to an end, Seto would meet it handsomely dressed. The flames of war could be smothered with enough fabric after all.

“Let’s see if I will need to expand my closet for the third time this month.”
​

|| Claire Organa ||

 

[Bright1]

IF LOOKS COULD KILL​

Location: Hotel Lobby, Belleau-a-Lir, Alderaan​

Tatiana was not one for fashion, well, not normally. But she knew there was a level of awareness a trained killer should have when it came to elements of clothing and what not to wear. Was it unusual for a Sith fanatical Mandalorian to attend a fashion show? Perhaps. But to her credit, no one knew she of her undying devotion to the Sith Emperor. They just saw a pretty red head with a hint of a crazy side, which was the bane of many a man; and occasionally women as well. None ever stayed around for long after all, Tatiana wasn't interested in dotting fans. No, she preferred people with power, and were worthy of respect. Sadly, those were few and far between. Which was part of the reason she had come as she had.

Clad in a Emerald gown, she had no weapons on her this day, other than herself of course. She was overdressed if you asked her, though in truth she didn't mind. The attention that was laid upon her satisfied her ego, though she longed for someone to chat with. There had to be someone she could get buddy buddy with, perhaps a senator or a noble man? It wouldn't be long in her mind that someone would take notice, after all, the hearts of men were so easily manipulated. Fine drink in hand, she sipped on the drink ideling around the main lobby as if she was waiting on a date. The fizzy sweetness of it appalling to her rather lacking pallet. If only they had some Mandalorian Ale to open up, now that would really hit the spot.​

 

[KRR]

N/A

 

[Jonathon Patches]

"Bomb?" asked Patches curiously as he was getting frisked - a bit vigoursouly in his estimation - by security.

"No one said anything about a bomb," he objected, though his words were calm and not one would expect from someone carrying a bomb.

Patches was here to observe, eaves drop a bit, maybe steal a secret or two. Lots of people with money and power would be attending an event such as this, which meant it was necessary for Patches to be here. A few of the guests were his clients, and a few others were his targets. However if security did not ease up, Patches would be getting nowhere with either party tonight.

The security officer - not officer handsy, whom was rummaging through Patches pockets like he was searching for the lost ark - but the other one with the datapad clearly in charge, did not believe him. "I have it right here sir, you talking to the gentleman behind you, saying you should put a bomb on it," she said, showing the datapad with a recording from a security camera, in what appeared to be Patches uttering those very same words.

"No no no," he said, his arms outstretched as sir hands-a-lot lowered his hands down Patches ribs, almost squeezing as he did so, "not bomb as in kaboom... balm... as in a medicinal..." he clarified, pulling his arms forward as he pretended to scoop some sort of cream out of container with his right hand and slather it on the other hand.

"SIR!" objected Mc Handsy, immediately straightening out Patches hands and arms, "Arms outstretched. Don't make me use binders," his voice trying to be authoritative.

"Oh I'd bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" quipped Patches, which received a glare from the handsy one, before he want right back to checking Patches for contraband.

"Look," said Patches with a sigh, "I was recommending a balm for his face... seriously... .have you LOOKED at the guys face behind me?" he asked, gesturing with his head to the individual behind Patches in line, whom clearly had come in to contact with some sort of chemical or fire leaving deep scars and burns on the right side of his face.

"Sorry," shrugged Patches a bit quietly, realizing he had perhaps brought unwanted attention to the man behind him, who simply nodded a bit sheepishly.

The female security officer with the datapad - clearly the one in charge, leaned around Patches and got a good look at the man behind Patches - whom indeed had more than his share of scars, before returning her gaze to her datapad. "Anything?" she asked Captain Handsy.

"Not yet, but if I just dig a bit deeper," he said with a grunt, checking Patches back pockets.

"You dig any deeper bud, and I am going to have to start charging you..." quipped Patches, then added, "Hand stuff don't come cheap."

The female security officer sighed, resigned to Patches story for the time being, before snapping her finger at her counterpart. "You're free to go, Mr. Ryder" she said, handing his invitation to Patches - his cover for the evening - and adding "we will be keeping our eye on you."

"I feel safer already," quipped Patches, placing his invitation in his breast pocket, and making his way through security.

Definitely could use a drink after that, he mused to himself, and headed for the nearest bar.

 

[KRR]

N/A

 

[Claire Organa]

Nat stood looking at the screen, then she looked over to Claire. This was quite the faux pas she didn't quite know how to tell her. "Claire" She whispered as she walked towards her.

Claire was quite distracted by the events around her, the planning, the hints the....whatever else was happening as more and more guests arrived throughout the City. Nat's quiet whisper pierced the chaos Claire looked at her, "something wrong, the dress not fit?"

"Claire...here....your notes to the Senator...umm..sweetie I don't know how to tell you this but the Senator is not a her.... Seto du Couteau is male. I don't know if his staff will notice and tell him...but....I hope you didn't send any dresses."

Claire stared, "Oh no....oh my....no thankfully I didn't...I have to apologize...I can't believe I did that...I must have...read ...oh by the goddess."

Nat felt bad for the young woman but...there it was.

Claire felt sick she ran over to the check-in list....oh goodness she thought he's here...."I have to go. I'll be back...get dressed...." Claire smoothed her clothes oh she looked a wreck for certain, her hair escaped off in small wisps, her make-up clean in her own mind she looked nothing like a sophisticated designer.

Arriving in the lobby she began to look for the Senator she did take notice of a striking young woman in an emerald green dress... how lovely she thought ( Bright1 ) ...there were no signs that said here..come here...but something told her where to go...she calmed her heart, took a deep breath and moved, "Excuse me Senator De Couteau....I'm Claire Organa....Welcome to Alderaan." She smiled..."I hope you had a pleasant journey..." oh please please she thought don't let them see how badly I....goofed.

 

[Osmund Krei]

ABSOLUTELY, POSITIVELY SMASHING!

AS SOON AS OSMUND ENTERED, he reached up and clapped quickly excited taps of his fingers to himself. His mouth opened, as he surveyed the entry and area beyond, the building for the occasion simply stunning. The Belleau-a-Lir, a masterful design that expressed influences in historical-yet-modern architecture, robust adroitness, with resounding artifice and abstractness... not to mention it was shiny; so, so wonderfully shiny.

With a small entourage of suited sentients in his wake, Osmund burst through the entryway of the Belleau-a-Lir, as he inhaled and ingested the aromas and sights before him. He was in a pressed five-piece suit, with an overlarge white fur coat that covered all of him save a small portion of his front. The fashion extravaganza promised to be amazing this year, and it had been with a deep regret that Osmund had been unable to attend the prior year, as his business dealings had demanded a more personal interaction.

But, alas!

With a wide sweeping gesture of his arms, the owner of GalaxiCorp - and by extension a number of other businesses across the galaxy, some quite considerable in standing - caused the fur coat to flare and spin with his movement. He stopped, before he locked eyes on a number of fantastically done up patrons ahead, and started to walk into the building further.

"Oh, the styling is simply divine, a perfect coalescence of opulence and taste," Osmund said aloud, as he motioned from the walls to the ceiling overhead. "I must have the holo-frequency of this designer. Renaldo, make it so!"

One of the suited sentients - his name not Renaldo at all - that walked in the humanoid's wake reached down to a small PDA and began to type a notation. "Yes, Mr. Krei."

"Hm? Yes?" Osmund paused, as someone looked his way and clearly admired the large white fur coat. "Oh, this old thing? I bought it last week from a tailor merchant who had dealings near Hoth, for whatever reason. It's pure Wampa fur! It's rough, itchy, smells terrible - and I love it!"

With a laugh and a big grin, Osmund reached out and cupped the woman's hands, before he moved on and continued to make his way toward the individuals that seemed to be the ones in charge. Whether they were, who could say, but there was a certain air about them - not to mention hints of panic, likely due to last minute adjustments or changes to the event - that caught the eye. However--

"Gasp, be still my beating heart," Osmund blinked, as he stopped and looked toward a sentient - Bright1 - nearby, who was dressed in a wonderfully fitted emerald gown. "My dear... you are absolutely stunning, I can hardly believe my eyes!"

Then, the obscenely rich and economically powerful humanoid offered his hand in greeting:

"Enchanté... an absolute pleasure, darling. Please, pray tell, what is your name?"

Claire Organa | Bright1​

 

[Jonathon Patches]

As Patches strode to the bar to wet his whistle, he glanced back at security with a look that said he won... though he was quite certain Sir Hands-a-lot had gotten himself a decent consolation prize with all the poking and prodding. Nevertheless Patches - 'scuse me, Flynn Ryder - had made his way through security mostly unharmed. Nothing a quick fix of his tie couldn't solve and the cool taste of a Corellian Ale couldn't solve.

As he approached the bar, Patches noticed his altercation had caused a bit of a stir, feeling more than a few sets of eyes on him. One such set of eyes even made a comment as he passed, “They could have at least bought you dinner first.”

He made his way up to the bar, not far from his audience, as he nodded to the bartender. "Corellian Ale..." he said, pausing for a moment as if deep in thought, "make that two actually."

While he waited for the drinks, he turned to his side so he could better look at the woman whom Patches situation seemed to have caused great amusement. She clearly was relaxed at this moment, a glass in hand, her posture one that was both at ease yet somehow elegant. Her mood was such that she even felt confident enough to play jest with the the bomb man. How did she know I don't have a bomb? he mused to himself.

"You know you're right," he said, pausing for a moment to look back at the security team as if sizing them up, "what do you think? Do you think he's into me? 'Fraid he might not like what he sees under all this," he said gesturing to his clothes, "not certain he would be satisfied with anything less than a bomb..." he quipped, his voice trailing off as he longed for the security guard... though his facial expression and tone were decidedly a bit more sarcastic than his choice of words.

The Bartender placed the two drinks upon the bar, which Patches received with both hands, flipping him a credit chip as he took two Corellian Ale. A moment passed, as if he was going to drink both of them right then and there, before Patches "accomplice" - Monsieur Scarface lets call him for the purposes of this story - had just gotten through his own ordeal with security and was making his way to the bar. Patches offered one of the drinks to his former 'accomplice" whom took it a bit sheepishly, as Patches could only mouth the words "sorry" and give him an equally awkward nod. Monsieur Scarface gave a final nod, clearly not wanting anything to do with Patches ever again, and made his way to what could only be accurately characterized as the farthest corner away in the room.

Fair, mused Patches.

"Tell me Miss..." he paused for a moment for them to share their name, returning his attention back to his jester, "do you often consort with alleged fashion terrorists?" he asked with peaked curiosity. "Looking to make contact with someone whom might just turn this party upside down with a bang? Or are you aiming to keep an eye on the trouble makers? I think I saw a person earlier wearing stripes with polkadots... should we alert the authorities?" he asked with a wry grin.

Katarine Ryiah A ARS VAMI

 

[KRR]

N/A

 

[Jonathon Patches]

“Ah...” mused Patches aloud, pausing for a moment as he offered His hand in a shake, ”then that would make you Mrs. Hands-a-lot now wouldn’t it?“ he asked with a straight face.

“You know you don’t exactly come as described either,“ he said, for a moment pretending to look her up and down with a slightly perplexed look on his face, then continued “somehow I thought you’d be taller with more shrew like features...” he quipped before adding with a grin, “and where is your tail? Swear he mentioned something about a tail.”

Patches shrugged casually, taking a sip of his ale as he casually glanced to the but of their jokes, poor Mc Handsy, before returning his attention to Miss Ryiah. “Ryder. Flynn Ryder“ he introduced himself - his cover for this evenings festivities - offering up his hand in a friendly shake.

Katarine Ryiah

 

[KRR]

N/A

 

[Seto du Couteau]

Seto Du Couteau, Senator of Empress Teta
Location: Hotel Lobby, Belleau-a-Lir, Alderaan
Action: Waiting, enjoying the prospect of new tailored outfits
Attire

Seto patted down his shirt, smoothing the invisible crease before turning around to greet Claire Organa. She introduced herself, matching his own smile as Seto himself bowed in formal greeting. Perhaps the young Du Couteau heir had some qualms with nobility, but for the most part he enjoyed the pomp and circumstance.

“The journey here was pleasant enough, but even if it hadn’t, this city and planet would have been worth it regardless.” Seto answered, his eyes glistening as he gestured around them with both hands. “- I must congratulate you in coordinating the festivities, I’m certain if there were even worse headaches than within the Senate chambers it would be the fashion world itself.” Seto laughed as his smile turned into a small grin.

I am pretty confident some tailors could give me run for my credit when it comes to complaints. Or perhaps Seto was doomed to only encounter the most fickle of tailors in the galaxy. He didn’t count his fortunes to see if perhaps fate would introduce him to someone different.

“But please, don’t let me take any more of your time! I’m sure you’re quite busy, my only question would be a suggestion of your favorite tailor here within the city.” Seto continued. After all, he couldn’t forget his mission to spend the pretty credit and fill his closet. I can always add another floor to my closet if it gets filled as well.
​

|| Claire Organa ||

 

[Claire Organa]

Claire nodded in appreciation of everything he had said, "Senator Seto du Couteau thank you. This place Alderaan it has it's own" She looked around the room, the room didn't really speak about how she felt. Everywhere in here visitors, designers, business representatives and who knew who else was there. He hadn't said anything about her mistake....and maybe he didn't know...so..yes she'd keep talking...

"airs about it. You can stand here at the heart of design, culture and artistry. Fly 150 miles from here and be in the heat of the desert strolling along the lines of the canyons. You have to experience Alderaan to really know her beauty, and why we fight so hard for it to remain a beautiful vital welcoming place in the core." Claire felt the ambassador in her rising up but how could she not be so vocal about her home.

How could she entice the Senator to look around..."There's a new designer Isobel Nakano from Black Lotus Designs...I'm dying to see her work...plus I hear there are some great after parties taking place all over the City. Can I interest you in any of these...or perhaps....a glass of emerald wine here....or...." dare she risk it...."talk shop about my own designs and the materials. I know it's pretty boring but if given the opportunity I think I can entice you with something made of of spider silk...it has some wonderful qualities."

She smiled....

 

[Jonathon Patches]

Katarine Ryiah

Steal a few secrets, lift a few datapads from a politician or two's pockets, gain access to a few new contacts... the usual, he mused to himself... though kept those thoughts to himself. No need to let a complete stranger in on his plans. Besides, people were either too trusting or not trusting enough. In Patches line of work, he preferred to lean towards the later. Most people were liars; and those that were not just didn't know any better, more often than not.

“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Ryder. Tell me, what brings you to fashion week?”

"And you as well, Miss Ryiah..." he paused for a moment, taking a drink surveying the crowd and his surroundings as if looking for something or someone, "Same as everyone else," he said, returning his attention back to Miss Ryiah, "Power... credits... namely looking to become some wealthy woman's trophy husband," he said with a casual grin.

An event such as this was always attended by the rich and powerful, and his story - just a story in his case with little truth - was not uncommon. There was opportunity to be had, and more than a few lonely widows looking to spend their fortune to fill the voids in their hearts.

"I may not be a first or second prize, but I think I have real potential as a runner up... to the runner up," he said with a chuckle.

A gold digger at an event such as this was not uncommon, though it was frowned upon. Patches was alright with this, as it probably wouldn't raise too much attention, though admittedly it was in a bit poor taste. Not my worst cover story.

 

[KRR]

N/A

 

[Isobel Nakano]

On the descent towards the planet, Isobel Nakano had decided that Alderaan was truly the best place to debut her new line.

The line was unlike anything Isobel had ever designed before. Perhaps it was reflective of her newfound status, separate and free from the First Order. Before, she had predominantly designed very structured work-wear. It was stylish, sleek, and beautiful, but it had a very specific niche. She hadn't gotten into designing eveningwear -- evening gowns and ball gowns, even bridal gowns -- until now. Instead of the sleek, efficient, structure pieces, her line was airy and intricate. There was an element of romance to it, in the flowiness of the skirts, the sheer of the fabric.

It was at once old fashioned and new. More than anything else she had ever created, it was art, and that made Alderaan the best place for its first view. Perhaps the only place. And to be allowed to show it at a Fashion Week organized by Claire Organa made it all the more exciting. Famous for many things across the galaxy, Isobel knew her primarily for the Contessa brand and for being the personal dressmaker to Natasi Fortan some years ago. It was, perhaps, what would be needed to launch the Blue Lotus brand in a galactic way.

Isobel oversaw the unloading of the collection for transportation to the site of the show, then went to her hotel to freshen up and change into her dress for the opening festivities, a cheeky bodycon of her own design, then went to the hotel lobby, joining the line of participants, eager to introduce herself to Claire Organa and thank her for the invitation.

 

[Jonathon Patches]

His reasons for being anywhere were almost always nefarious. Maybe not of the wicked variety; if everything went according to plan, everyone would keep all of their limbs. His intentions were usually more nefarious in the criminal variety. Stealing sensitive data, hacking into people's bank accounts, dealings and itineraries certainly wasn't always done with the most legal of intentions or ethics. But if people didn't want to be caught, keep it in your head. The one place I can't hack, he mused to himself, though admittedly he had tried it in the past on a Rodian... didn't go well.

“Well Mr. Ryder I think you might be barking up the wrong tree sitting here with me. I won these tickets on a cruise and believe me I never could have afforded to attend otherwise.”

"Don't be absurd," he objected at her notion he could find wealthier, "no man has ever won over any woman by barking... I mean I tried it once..." he paused as if reflecting on a past event, before his eyes widened a bit ,"Did... not.. go... well" he said, emphasizing the last word with a casual shrug.

"Women do not like to be barked at, evidently," he added with a grin, as if he had uncovered some long forgotten secret.

He turned his attention to the woman at the bar, one of which DID happen to be one of his targets for the evening... not in the trophy husband variety though... more so in the needing to lift the datapad she no doubt kept close to her in her clutch?... purse? Bag? Datapad sheath? Never could tell the difference he wondered to himself briefly.

He took a sip of his drink, studying his target for the moment, trying to weigh if now was the time to strike, with her flock so close by.

"Hmmmm..." he mused aloud, as if weighing his options, "but how does one choose? I mean we are talking a life long commitment here," he wondered aloud, then clarified, "well, I mean to be fair life long for them has a much shorter meaning than I," he observed, noting their advanced age.

"What should one look for in a good cougar? Aside from the obvious," he said, then realized he should probably clarify in case it wasn't obvious to her, "you know... one that has been declawed."

Katarine Ryiah

 

[KRR]

N/A

 

[Jonathon Patches]

"Sturdy is good," agreed Patches, nodding along at Miss Ryiah's assessments of the specimens before them. The whole consummating part did give him a bit of a pause.

"Consummate huh? I was just thinking I would have a headache... a lot..." he said, as if resigned to the fact that excuse wouldn't work in this fictional scenario they were playing out in their heads, "like most every night..." he paused for a moment, weighing out his options before clarifying, "except Bithdays..." he added, casting Ryiah a glance as he said "what? I am not a monster."

"The one on the left physically is probably the least likely to break," agreed Patches, narrowing his eyes to study her further, "but I think she is not quite near enough to her expiration date," he surmised, taking a sip of his ale, before adding, "if you catch my drift."

The one on the right did appear closer to an expiration date, but her level of trust in strangers was something Patches disagreed on, "the only thing that woman trusts is herself... look at her make up... she clearly did it herself... one does not have that kind of money and does her own make up unless she has serious trust issues..." he observed, before clarifying, "unless she paid a professional to make her look like the Racoons of Naboo... in which case... they nailed it," he said with a chuckle.

Katarine Ryiah