Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Dominion TINY UMBRELLAS || ME Dominion of Zeltros



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Y A C H T * P A R T Y
Interacting with: Aurelian Veruna Aurelian Veruna | Adelle Bastiel Adelle Bastiel | Open
Items:
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"As this is a vacation, I suppose one is obliged to indulge in a fruity drink or three," she added with a graceful little lift of her shoulder as she took another sip. At the same time, she tried valiantly not to let her gaze wander back toward Aurelian and his maddening shamelessness. Truly, the man seemed to believe the sun existed solely to admire him.

Then he winked...and any hope for her complexion vanished entirely.

Yet nothing compared to the moment he murmured that she looked good like this. Sibylla froze, warmth blooming swiftly along her neck and rising over her cheeks. Her heart skipped a beat, its quickening thud betraying how absurdly delighted she was by something so simple and sincere.

She had spent far too long choosing an outfit that felt like her, and not just what people expected her to wear, but one that made her feel beautiful without artifice. To hear him appreciate her now, enjoying and relaxing without the stress of maintaining composure... well, it mattered more than she cared to admit aloud.

"Well... I should think the company and the scenery have something to do with it," she confessed softly, and what she did not say shimmered plainly in her eyes when they lifted to meet the amber in his again. "And... thank you. For coming with me."

Her fingers gave his forearm a gentle squeeze, but it wasn't long before Sibylla gave a small, wry huff of a chuckle as she looked at him with mock astonishment.

"Although I must admit, I am rather astonished. House Veruna without a yacht? I had imagined your family kept a fleet of them lined along Parrlay's coastline, ready to whisk unsuspecting guests away at a moment's notice."

The harmless teasing steadied her pulse, and conveniently spared her from any commentary he might have made about her constant sidelong glances -- at least for now.

"Although..." Her voice softened as she turned her gaze toward the glittering water. The warmth of the sun kissed her skin, the sea breeze threading through stray chestnut tendrils dancing across her shoulders.

"...the idea that we might simply take an airspeeder to Kadaara whenever we pleased and drift out on a yacht is one of the most tempting propositions you have ever offered me." A faint smile curved her lips at the thought.

She tipped her glass toward him with pointed emphasis.

"And let us be perfectly honest, Aurelian... if anyone is working himself straight into an early grave, it is you."

It wasn't just House Veruna and Farstine he had to deal with, but also haggle with all that came with the Republic and beyond.

"I have heard the murmurs in the Senate. That you ought to take assistance in the form of a Magistrate...perhaps call a special session regarding the matter."

Before she could elaborate, a woman's voice called across the water. Sibylla turned, leaning slightly to catch sight of the approaching Mandalorian vessel drawing near the yacht.

"Oh. It seems our guests have finally arrived," she said, flashing Aurelian a bright smile even as she leaned closer to tuck a wayward dark forelock back from his eyes. This time, it was she who flashed Aurelian a wink.

"A conversation for later then."

There would be time for the more intimate matters. Right now, they have guests to welcome. And perhaps it was time to discover just how legendary Aurelian Veruna's parties truly were.

Sibylla rose gracefully to her feet, lifting her hand toward the approaching ship as it slowed near the yacht's rear deck.

"Su cuy'gar! Welcome. Please come aboard, we have been expecting you!" she called warmly over towards Adelle Bastiel Adelle Bastiel , intending to greet her personally.

Yet before she proceeded, a deliberately skeptical look slid Aurelian's way in incredulous unmistakable mirth. She tipped her head closer, her voice pitched low in playful accusation to Aurelian.

"Truly. You make me wonder what could possibly qualify as unprofessional for you."

 
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Beach Party

The ocean breeze was cool enough to keep the heat of the sweltering sun from being too harsh. A fact that Taryn was definitely grateful for, and even more so that she had decided to leave the jacket for her outfit behind. Plus said jacket had enough crevices that it would have been horrible to wear in the sand anyway.
The serenity of the breeze was shattered when her space was suddenly, and (not quite) violently invaded. The offending ball was blocked with a quickly reactive raise of Taryn arms, which only sent the ball back towards the offender and unimpressive distance. It left this stranger plenty of distance to close to retrieve his ball, and he did just that.
The look on the blonde's face was hardly impressed, and there was definitely a guarded look to her eyes. “Not sure the sand is anyone's natural terrain.” She paused, then lofted a brow before she continued. “Not this sand…” Tar knew there were plenty of planets and places overrun with sand, but this beach stuff was damp, soft, and stuck to everything.
Another voice cut in and caused Taryn's lofted brow to crease with the other. She looked in the direction of the speaker, and while some part of her wanted to be threatened- by both of these intruders- nothing came of it. Both of them seemed too calm, too relaxed, and enjoying themselves. It was enough to spark a memory that briefly lifted one corner of her mouth into something akin to a smile, but it didn't last.
“Pretty sure Arden here isn't made of glass, and I know I'm not.” She replied. It wasn't snippy, or rude, just a responding statement. Strange how she had come here hoping to find familiarity, and already she had come across not one, but two people to talk to. Even if it didn't last long.
“Something more melty though, maybe. Rough sun and all.” Tar added as her gaze shifted back to Arden. “I'm Taryn.” She finally revealed. “And I wore the wrong shoes for the beach.”
 




The Direwolf descended through Zeltros' misty upper atmosphere, neon light glancing off its hull as if the planet itself were trying to impress its new arrivals. Siv Kryze stood in the cockpit with Veyla Krinn Veyla Krinn beside him, both silent as crystalline towers of rose-gold shimmer rolled into view beneath them. Zeltros pulsed with color and emotion like a living heartbeat—too loud for some, interesting enough for others.


After landing on a violet terrace, Siv and Veyla stepped out into warm, fragrant air humming with Zeltron energy. It didn't take long for the noise and excitement of the Entertainment District to pull them toward the racing complex—a structure that looked grown, not built, bioluminescent veins pulsing along its walls like it were alive and expecting them.


Inside, neon constellations wheeled above roaring bettors and swirling holograms of beasts from half the galaxy. The scent of ozone, sweet drinks, and adrenaline filled the air.


That's where Siv spotted him.


An armored figure— Ajalurk-Chaidth Kryze Ajalurk-Chaidth Kryze —stood before a massive crystal race board. The man radiated the kind of quiet focus that marked warriors, mystics, gamblers, or all three. Siv didn't know him, didn't recognize the armor or the presence around him, but the stranger clearly had intent.


The board shifted.
A name flickered.
OLD SCRATCH SNUGGLESHINE.


The armored figure seemed fixed on it.


Siv stepped up beside him, Veyla just behind, both studying the shifting odds.


Siv's helm tilted slightly.


"Old Scratch Snuggleshine?" he said, voice carrying a dry edge.
"That's not a racing beast. That's a bad idea with legs."


Siv looked back to Ajalurk, a faint hum of amusement in his tone.


"If you're putting credits on that thing, you're either the bravest soul in this hall… or the most optimistic."


He nodded toward another name appearing across the neon crystal—a creature with far better odds and a reputation even Siv recognized.


"That one'll actually finish the race."


He didn't force the suggestion.
Didn't dictate.
Just offered it, the way warriors tested each other's judgment at the start of a mission—or a gamble.

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Siv Kryze Siv Kryze Ajalurk-Chaidth Kryze Ajalurk-Chaidth Kryze

Zeltros hit her like a warm, perfumed blast the moment she stepped off the Dire Wolf. The air shimmered with neon reflections, music thumped from half a dozen directions at once, and Zeltrons waved at them with an enthusiasm so radiant it almost felt weaponized.

This world didn't walk.
It swayed.

Veyla stepped beside Siv, helmet hooked casually at her hip. The humid breeze swept through her red hair, catching the brighter strands and tossing them across her cheek as the city's glow reflected off every curve and line of her armor.

"I swear," she murmured, watching a trio of Zeltrons dance down the steps of a glowing lounge, "if they start floating drinks to us through the air, I'm turning around."

Siv didn't reply, but the minute shift in his expression said everything.

The sound of cheering pulled them forward to the racing complex—a pulsing bioluminescent structure that looked grown rather than built. Inside, hologram beasts thundered overhead while bettors shouted over one another, the air thick with adrenaline and glittering lights.

And that's when she saw him.

Ajalurk-Chaidth Kryze.

Stoic as ever, standing before the crystal race board. Even here, drenched in neon chaos, he carried the same quiet, grounded aura she'd recognized on Mandalore. Clan blood ran strong in him—strong enough she felt it before she even reached him.

Siv stepped up first.

"Old Scratch Snuggleshine?" Siv said with dry disbelief. "That's not a racing beast. That's a bad idea with legs."

Veyla let out a warm, low laugh—her red hair shifting again with the movement, catching violet light along its length.

She stepped beside them, her green eyes flicking from the board to Ajalurk with unmistakable recognition.

"You again," she said, amusement slipping into her tone as she dipped her chin in greeting. "Didn't expect the clan's path to cross ours in the middle of Zeltros'…whatever this is."

Her gaze rose to the neon name:

OLD SCRATCH SNUGGLESHINE.

She blinked once. Twice.

"If you're actually betting on that thing," she said, voice warm and teasing, "warn me. I want to stand at a safe distance when it charges the spectators."

Her arms folded lightly, the picture of relaxed confidence as she stepped closer to both men. "Good to see you again, Ajalurk." A subtle nod, clan to clan. A deeper warmth beneath it.

"Seems the Kryze fire follows us everywhere—even to places drowning in neon, bad decisions, and questionable beasts."

The race board flared brighter. The crowd roared. And for the first time since they landed, Veyla felt entirely at home. Even here. Especially with the clan nearby.
 

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THE JADE DRAGON, ZELTROS

For Aether, saying her name felt as natural as breathing. The syllables left his tongue with a calm familiarity that he could have easily blamed on shared hardship, on the memory of the two of them quite literally holding back a storm together. None of his warriors had stood with him in that way, not his kin, not his oldest comrades. If anyone pressed him on it, he would point to that...or to his Basilisk's preference and the fight for agrocite when the Diarchy marched on Eol Sha.

The truth ran deeper than that, and he did not have words for it. Every time he strayed too close, his own mind bared its fangs, promising to devour him if he stepped wrong. Do something foolish, it growled, and see what happens.

So when she called his being civilized debatable, he seized the easier ground. The Mand'alor lifted both hands in a broad, mock victory, palms open as if he had just claimed some grand prize.

“A win is a win.” he said, the humor in his voice smooth and unforced.

The brightening in her eyes did not escape him. It was a small shift, subtle as the easing of a tightened strap, but some long held tension in his shoulders loosened in response. It felt like his body had been holding an invisible breath and only now decided it was safe to let it out.

Her sigh about lozenges and heroic medic duty only deepened the smile that had already settled across his features. He dipped his head in a theatrical bow over the low table, cloak shifting at his back as if he stood on some palace dais.

“I am nothing if not a gracious king,” Aether declared, tone playfully grand. “May Zeltros enjoy its surplus of lozenges, at least until the winter comes. Who knows what sniffles await me then.”

The quiet chuckle that followed chased the last of the stiffness from his posture.

Then came her laugh when he named himself her Padawan in the noble Order of Tea Knights. Not a polite exhale or a contained little smile, but something melodic and unguarded that filled the small shop with warmth. He watched it happen, felt something in his chest answer it, and when that tiny, ridiculous phrase slipped out of her, he knew he would keep it.

“Oh-ee-no-ee...” Aether repeated, tasting the sounds like a rare spice.

The deep laughter that rolled out of him in the next instant was impossible to disguise. It rose from his chest in a booming peal that turned a few heads in nearby booths before settling into a softer rumble. The expression was absurd, yes, but it was also, in his private estimation, entirely and undeniably...cute, and that realization only fueled his amusement.

When the laughter finally faded, she threatened to introduce him as her apprentice, warned him about Mandalorian gossip, painted a picture of their Mand'alor demoted to scrubbing poultice pots. Aether pressed his palm flat against the center of his breastplate as if taking an oath, his grin bright and easy.

“Well, do not be surprised when you are suddenly ruler of the Empire,” he replied. “If you are mighty enough to tame me so thoroughly that I am scrubbing poultice pots, they will place a crown on your head by the next business day.”

The jest carried no distance from the fondness that underpinned it, and the bemused smirk that lingered on his mouth made it very clear that he liked the story he was spinning.

The host returned in a gentle swirl of motion, then retreated, leaving kettle, leaves, and cups arranged like ritual implements between them. When Persephone reached for the kettle, Aether found his focus sharpening without conscious effort. He leaned forward just enough to show his attention, forearms resting on the table, helm at his waist forgotten.

Until this moment, his approach to tea had been blunt and entirely functional. Boil water, drown a teabag, hurl in enough sugar and honey to turn it into medicine instead of a drink, then suffer through until the fever broke. Watching her work was something else entirely. Every motion had intention behind it. The angle of her wrist. The timing of the steep. The careful choice of additions. He did not know the forms, but he recognized mastery when he saw it.

He listened while she spoke of lesson one and lesson two, of good tea having no need to fight for its place on the tongue, of preferences not being sins to hide. He nodded slowly, then gave those lessons back to her in his own words as she finished pouring his cup.

“So if it is good tea, it stands on its own merit.” he said, voice low, reverent to the simplicity. “If it needs rescuing with half the pantry, it is not worth the sip. And if I have preferences, I am allowed to have them.”

He lifted the cup with both hands, honoring the moment more than the object, and brought it to his lips. The first sip was careful, testing, then his brows rose a fraction as the flavor unfolded across his tongue. Lemon, lavender, warmth that soothed without smothering. It was not the desperate brew of a sickbed. It was something crafted to be enjoyed.

“Oh wow...” Aether murmured, before setting the cup gently back upon its platter.

His gaze found her again, steadier now, unhurried.

“I can only imagine our usual lines of work are not the best places to treat tea with this kind of respect.” he said. “So how do you manage a decent cup in the field. I am assuming your method is a little more refined than nuking a mug of water and throwing a teabag in.”

The question carried genuine curiosity, but also something softer. An invitation. To talk about routines that did not revolve around triage and battle plans. To share a piece of herself that existed outside the roar of alarms.

There was so much beyond these walls that demanded his attention, so many wars waiting to be born or reborn. For the length of a kettle’s life and the span of a shared pot, he chose to set it aside. In this small, candle lit corner of Zeltros, he let himself be only a man learning how to drink tea properly from someone he trusted, and for now, that was more than enough.​

 

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BYOO - Yacht Party​


Location: Zeltros
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes Sibylla Abrantes | Adelle Bastiel Adelle Bastiel | OPEN

Aurelian blinked at her, genuinely affronted in the most theatrical way possible. "Me? A fleet of yachts? Sibylla, please." He pressed a palm to his chest. "I don't own yachts. I just maintain excellent friendships with people who do. It's far more economical."

His gaze drifted over her, lingering on the sunlit curve of her smile, the relaxed ease she rarely allowed herself. A slow, appreciative smirk tugged at his lips. "But now," he murmured, lowering his voice so only she heard, "I'm beginning to see the value in having one of my own. Clearly I've been missing out." His eyes flicked briefly toward the horizon, then back to her. "And a private slice of Kadaara with you? That might justify the expense."

She then pivoted into politics. Aurelian groaned, letting his head fall back against the lounge cushion. "Please don't remind me," he muttered. "I stepped in for five minutes during a tragedy, and now half the Senate is sharpening knives about the power." He lifted his drink and sighed dramatically. "Let them fight among themselves. I'm busy." He was busy relaxing and admiring her, pretending the galaxy wasn't on fire. Temporarily.

Thankfully, Shiraya spared him further discussion by delivering guests. Mandalorians clattered aboard the yacht, their chatter carrying over the music. Aurelian sat up, running a hand through his hair as Sibylla rose to greet them. Before she could walk away, he reached out and caught her wrist lightly, leaning in.

"Act normal," he whispered, mischief glinting. "Try not to look like you were two seconds from kissing me."

He released her with a grin just as the nearest Mandalorian, Adelle, approached. Aurelian pushed to his feet, tossing out the greeting he'd practiced purely to annoy her. "Su… cuy'gar," he said, the pronunciation passable but undeniably not Mandalorian. Close enough.

Then he flashed the dangerous smile that had ruined far too many negotiations. "Welcome aboard. I'm Aurelian Veruna. Help yourself to anything on this vessel: drinks, food, sun, questionable decisions." He snapped his fingers, summoning an aide hovering nearby. "Get her whatever she wants. Strongest or sweetest, it's Zeltros. We don't judge." He spread his arms wide, the very picture of decadent hospitality.

"Enjoy yourself. Tonight, the galaxy's problems can wait."

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“And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon‘s that is dreaming. — Edgar Allan Poe


Objective - Have Fun?
Tags -

Siv Kryze Siv Kryze / Veyla Krinn Veyla Krinn


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[


Ajalurk-Chaidth tilted his head toward the two Mandos, a cosmic gleam of disdain threading through his unseen eyes. "Careful how you speak of Old Scratch Snuggleshine," he drawled, "for he's faced horrors in those tracks that would leave the pair of you whimpering like hatchlings in a gravity well."

Folding his arms, he let slip a muffled chuckle. "You two mock the underdog as though victory alone writes the song of the cosmos," he said, a wry spark in his voice. "But the universe has a habit of flipping its own dice when no one's looking, and the smallest...the most tiniest of creatures can topple titans if given enough stubbornness and bad luck to weaponize."

He stepped closer.

"Besides," he continued, leaning in even closer as confiding in them some great majestic secret, "credits aren't won by betting on the favorites; those brutes are predictable, dull, practically begging the fates to humble them. True profit lies with the scrappy ones: the long shots, the cosmic misfits, the little sparks that refuse to snuff out no matter how much the universe stomps on them."

He straightened, released his arms, and took a couple steps back. "So show some respect," he finished, gesturing broadly as if addressing the stars themselves before erupting into laughter. "Not everyone can be worthy of being a Kryze."

As his laughter subsided, he turned his gaze back to the racing board, its flickering holographics casting shifting constellations across his armor. "Veyla, Siv...champions of chaos and casual disaster...what summons you to this humble racing track?" he asked, voice rich with cosmic humor, his helm tilted in playful suspicion, "don't tell me...let me guess. You two are merely here to either grace the place with your radiance, to cheer feverishly, to gamble uncontrollably, or to witness the universe's latest attempt at comedic timing?"

Ajalurk-Chaidth politely tapped the board. "Tell me," he rumbled, pointing toward the roster names in particular, "what do you two make of an underdog bold enough to call himself Nebulous Fizzlestomp the Third in the second Heat?"






 

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WARBAND REBUILDER
ZELTROS
TAGS: Taryn Alvor Taryn Alvor | Jonah Jonah

Arden blinked at Taryn as if she'd just spoken in a dialect he hadn't learned yet.

"Melty…?" he echoed, his brow furrowing. He hadn't been called that before, and wasn't sure if it was an insult or some kind of beach compliment. Before he could even think of a reply, he followed her gaze downwards, straight to her shoes.

"Why would you…" he began, then cut himself off. Questioning a stranger's footwear probably wasn't the smoothest conversational move. He cleared his throat and rubbed at the back of his neck. "I mean. Yeah. Wrong shoes. Sand's… uh… everywhere."

Perfect. Nailed it.

Just as the awkwardness settled in, salvation arrived. A grinning Zeltron woman, who had already claimed one of his arms earlier, thrust a neon-orange drink up at him. "More for the brave warrior!" she announced enthusiastically.

Arden lit up like she'd handed him treasure. "I love these," he said, accepting it with both hands. He remembered his company, then offered the second drink to Taryn first, hopefully, before holding the other out toward the man with the same eager energy. "You want one? They're… really good."

He didn't mention how many he'd already had. Or that they went down like juice but came back swinging like a sledgehammer. He was young, and smart enough to keep that to himself.

When the man took the cup, Arden's eyes caught on the man's face. It was familiar in an echoing way, reminding him of stories. He thought of the quiet tales traded by tired soldiers near dying fires. He didn't stare or ask, just held the moment for a heartbeat before shifting his weight back toward the conversation.

"So, uh…" he tried again, glancing between them. "If the sun's 'melty,' does that mean I'm supposed to stay in the water or something? 'Cause I'm already kinda pink."

He lifted a hand to his reddening shoulder in demonstration, half-grinning, half-wincing. "Didn't know a star could try to cook you alive while you're relaxing. Zeltros is… really something."

 


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Tags: Sibylla Abrantes Sibylla Abrantes | Aurelian Veruna Aurelian Veruna | Open





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Sibylla rose gracefully to her feet, lifting her hand toward the approaching ship as it slowed near the yacht's rear deck.

"Su cuy'gar! Welcome. Please come aboard, we have been expecting you!" she called warmly over towards Adelle Bastiel Adelle Bastiel , intending to greet her personally.

Yet before she proceeded, a deliberately skeptical look slid Aurelian's way in incredulous unmistakable mirth. She tipped her head closer, her voice pitched low in playful accusation to Aurelian.

"Truly. You make me wonder what could possibly qualify as unprofessional for you."



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BYOO - Yacht Party​


He released her with a grin just as the nearest Mandalorian, Adelle, approached. Aurelian pushed to his feet, tossing out the greeting he'd practiced purely to annoy her. "Su… cuy'gar," he said, the pronunciation passable but undeniably not Mandalorian. Close enough.

Then he flashed the dangerous smile that had ruined far too many negotiations. "Welcome aboard. I'm Aurelian Veruna. Help yourself to anything on this vessel: drinks, food, sun, questionable decisions." He snapped his fingers, summoning an aide hovering nearby. "Get her whatever she wants. Strongest or sweetest, it's Zeltros. We don't judge." He spread his arms wide, the very picture of decadent hospitality.

"Enjoy yourself. Tonight, the galaxy's problems can wait."

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The hosts rose to greet them, each speaking the Mandalorian greeting. The young woman had her pronunciation on point, and Adelle couldn't help but feel a little jealous. It was taking her a while to speak the language with any amount of fluency and her Corellian accent often sent her clanmates into un-warrior-like giggles. They could pry it from her cold dead fingers. However, the young woman's voice made something click in Adelle's head: this was Queen Sibylla of Naboo. She remembered the monarch cheering for the Iron Champion, Bastila Sal-Soren Bastila Sal-Soren .

The interim Queen and the interim Chancellor on a yacht on Zeltros. How the HoloNet tabloids would talk if they knew. Not that they'd ever make it past all the Mandalorians in and outside of armor.

Adelle raised her eyebrows ever so slightly at the Chancellor's greeting. Passable, yes, by the rest of the galaxy maybe.

"Our thanks," she said with a crooked grin, letting her Corellian accent thicken and take over. If they'd spent any significant time on Corellia, they'd probably be able to pinpoint it to Coronet City. "You've set my expectations high, especially from you Chancellor Veruna. You've already done the impossible. Somehow, your Mando'a is worse than mine ever was."

A good-natured tease, and a bit of a test to see how much of a sense of humor these politicians had. If they didn't have one, well, Adelle would be best suited elsewhere where she couldn't cause a diplomatic incident. His mention of questionable decisions made her smile that little bit more and she couldn't not respond to it.

"Be careful offering 'questionable decisions' around Mandalorians. They'll try to find the limits," she said. She turned to the aide he'd snapped his fingers at, nodding her head respectfully, her accent lessening significantly. "I'd like an Ionic Blast, thank you."

That had been a hell of a drink the last time she had been able to visit for pleasure. A little minty, a lot of citrus, a good bit of creamy vanilla, and a crackling effect from some crystalline sweetner stuck to the rim. It went down easy but hit like a star destroyer later. If their hosts were offering questionable decisions, who was she to turn them down?

That did remind her of something and she frowned thoughtfully. "Are you well-equipped with sun block? Some of my vod haven't experienced sun like this and I know I'll have to remind them. I'll probably lose my voice before they get it through their skulls."



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Y A C H T * P A R T Y
Interacting with: Aurelian Veruna Aurelian Veruna | Adelle Bastiel Adelle Bastiel
Items:
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Sibylla felt the clasp of Aurelian's hand at her wrist with a spark, the kind that stirred entirely too much awareness for her liking. The prospect of spending future time with him on a private yacht had already set a pleasant flutter over her, but his whispered, shameless comment nearly robbed her of breath altogether. Her jaw parted in surprise before she caught herself and pressed it firmly shut.

Shiraya preserve her; the man would be the end of her composure.

She shot him a small glower, though the bright spark in her hazel eyes spoiled any attempt at severity. He found that expression endlessly entertaining, and that alone made her wish she could school her features more effectively.

Normal. Act normal. Perfectly normal.

She repeated the mantra with the optimism of someone who absolutely knew better. Perhaps the warm Zeltron sun could be blamed for the flush that insisted on coloring her cheeks. Yes. The sun. Certainly not the Interim Chancellor whispering provocations as if it were his preferred sport.

Thankfully, Adelle Bastiel provided her with the perfect excuse to redirect her attention. While Aurelian's attempt at Mando'a was thoughtful, it was also just inaccurate enough to earn a roast from a Mandalorian. Judging by the grin on Adelle's face, his effort had been appreciated all the same.

Perhaps private lessons would be in order. She could certainly ensure his pronunciation was… acceptable.

"We have sunblock and suntan lotion for anyone hoping to gain a bit of color," Sibylla chimed in smoothly, slipping easily into hostess mode. A perfect explanation for her blush. "I myself have already had plenty of exposure."

She dipped her head politely.

"Ambassador Sibylla Abrantes. Or Interim Queen of Naboo, if one insists on formalities, though I much prefer Sibylla while on Zeltros. I intend to enjoy my vacation as any reasonable woman would."

And while her tone was open and welcoming, there was an unmistakable undercurrent: she was here to relax. Titles could rest for a time.

The mention of questionable decisions and Mandalorians testing limits drew a quiet, knowing laugh from her. Oh yes. Four words perfectly suited to Aurelian Veruna. He would lean into that sort of chaos with absolutely noshame.

"So, whom do we have the honor of entertaining today?" Sibylla asked with genuine curiosity just as an attendant slipped away to collect the Ionic Blast Adelle had ordered.

As Adelle had been armored at the Joust, and with the commotion of each match and her brother being… himself, Sibylla's mind did not immediately connect the dots. She had no idea that Adelle had been among the medics tending to Elian.

But the voice. Yes. The voice was familiar.

"Have we met? Your voice is familiar," she asked thoughtfully, brow lifting in polite inquiry.

 




Siv's stance eased—just a fraction, but enough to shift the air around him from iron-clad Warden to clanmate at ease in bright chaos. The neon reflections played off his armor as he glanced from the board to Ajalurk, the corner of his mouth tugging in something dangerously close to a smirk.

"Alright, alright," he said, lifting a hand in mock surrender.
"If Old Scratch survived cosmic horrors, then maybe he deserves… half a credit of respect."


He shot Veyla Krinn Veyla Krinn a sideways look as if to say don't encourage him, though the humor in his eyes betrayed him instantly.


Siv stepped a little closer to Ajalurk-Chaidth Kryze Ajalurk-Chaidth Kryze , letting the noise of the track wash comfortably around them.

"Truth is, it's good to see another Kryze face here."
His tone softened—not stern, not formal, just honest.
"Zeltros is… a lot. In every direction. Having clan around helps keep the place from swallowing us whole."

He nodded at the race board where Nebulous Fizzlestomp the Third pulsed in bright pink lettering like it was daring someone—anyone—to take it seriously.

"And that one?"
Siv let out a short, warm laugh.
"If he wins, I'll buy both of you a round… because clearly the universe is trying to send me a message."

He hooked his thumbs casually on his belt, settling in beside them.

"We're here to unwind. Have a little fun. Maybe lose a few credits—preferably not to anything named Snuggleshine."

Then he gave Ajalurk a firm, friendly tap on the shoulder plate.

"And you? You look like you came here to challenge the cosmos itself. Figured I'd at least be the one sane Kryze in the building."

A beat.

"But if you're placing bets…" he added with a grin, "we're in."

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BYOO - Yacht Party​


Location: Zeltros
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes Sibylla Abrantes | Adelle Bastiel Adelle Bastiel | OPEN

Aurelian arched a brow at Adelle's tease, his grin widening as if she'd handed him a challenge wrapped in ribbon.

"Rough?" he echoed. "Absolutely. It's a primitive language meant to be shouted over artillery fire. I'm only learning it to maintain diplomatic relations." He quickly tried to cover his embarrassment.

Her warning about Mandalorians testing limits sparked a sharp gleam in his eye.

"Finding limits," he mused, swirling his drink, "sounds like the best offer I've heard in weeks. Please, by all means... educate me." He lifted his glass in an unrepentant salute, already deciding he liked her.

As Sibylla shifted into polished hostess mode; sunblock, titles, warmth delivered with effortless grace... Aurelian stood beside her, useless but entertained. He watched Adelle with open curiosity, unable to resist nudging Sibylla with his elbow.

"Note she says 'plenty of exposure' while wearing something designed to encourage staring," he murmured about Sibylla, just loud enough for Adelle to hear. Sibylla's exasperated glance only brightened his grin.

But when Sibylla asked, Have we met? his attention snapped back to Adelle. Aurelian studied her with fresh interest, lips pursed in thought.

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Yacht Party
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes Sibylla Abrantes | Aurelian Veruna Aurelian Veruna | Open



The Interim Chancellor fired back a shot at Mando'a while the Interim Queen slid in smoothly as hostess and answered her question. Good, they did have a sense of humor and Adelle wasn't going to start a diplomatic incident being smart-mouthed. Que-- Sibylla introduced herself, leading with Ambassador followed by her title as Queen. Word choice mattered and being an empath helped. Adelle picked up on the unsaid preference, as much as she'd been able to clock the tension between Aurelian and Sibylla.

The Chancellor, for his part, invited the Mandalorians to find the limits of allowable questionable decisions with a salute of his drink. Oh boy. Adelle was already listing the amount of possible injuries of all the possible ways the Mandos could test those limits. And the image her mind was painting would absolutely make HoloNet news. Incredible property damage, at best case.

He also made a comment about what Sibylla was wearing, which was relatively modest compared to the swimwear she had already seen on some of the Mandos. Honestly, without all the trappings of royal regalia, she looked incredibly young. They both seemed young for being the powerful politicians they were. Had the galaxy gone and got young somehow when she hadn't been looking? Adelle raised an eyebrow and gestured to her own swimsuit, white shirt notwithstanding, her crooked smile still in place.

"I have no room to judge," she said. "But unlike my fellow vod, I at least had the good sense to douse myself in sunblock."

Sibylla asked for an introduction, citing that her voice sounded familiar.

Ah shab.

"Adelle Bastiel, of Clan Skirata," she said. "I haven't had the pleasure, I'm afraid. At least, not directly. I was among the jousters on Nessantico and one of the many Mandalorian Healers that suffered a heart attack after certain... events. You may have heard me swearing in three languages."

No need to mention her own defeat or head-ringing injury. She hadn't been among the medics that escorted Elian Abrantes Elian Abrantes off the field but she had checked in with the medics after the jousting had finished and a champion declared. Head injuries were no joke, and a Healer was often quicker than bacta. Fortunately, it seemed he'd gotten away with minimal injuries from a fall like that. Lucky shabuir.

An insistent furred head nudged at her hand and Adelle rubbed Phantom's small black head absently. "This is Phantom, my service animal. A spukami, so incredibly intelligent and fiercely independent. I hope it's not a problem she's here."

"I must warn you,"
she said, turning to Aurelian and omitting name and title. Sibylla might have asked for no titles but that didn't necessarily extend to all parties. "A lot of testing of limits does include finding things to explode with Mandalorians. Even if you think there's nothing that could explode."



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Entertainment District
Tags: Open
Wearing: [X]

Zeltros, one planet that had always been an annoyance, yet remained a favorite since it pandered to the tastes and pleasures of all kinds. The oddest desires, the darkest needs, and it wasn't too often that Cordelia came across others with desires darker than her own. This was a place that happily quenched the burn that ravaged the redhead’s throat regularly.​
As it stood right now, Delia was not on the prowl for her favored, coppery drink. It had been a while since she had ventured to the planet, and while joining her people on a celebratory visit gave her the perfect opportunity to stretch her fangs, there was more to the city life that she wanted to get involved in.​
What exactly, she wasn't so sure yet. Gambling was only fun when in a group, wandering about would become boring quickly…​
The thumping of music was fairly common in a place like this, but a particular pulse caught Delia's ear and had her wandering in that direction. The music grew louder as she drew closer and a smirk tugged at her lips as she reached the source. The doors of the building were open and welcoming and through them the view of dancing bodies was unhindered.​
Cordelia strode the distance between her and the building and made her way within. How easy it was to slide past these people, those who were completely oblivious to her, and those who pawed and requested she stay and dance. But for now she declined and reached the bar with that smirk still in place. Once she had a drink in hand, the redhead turned to rest her back against the bar. Gray eyes swept across the dance floor of this club she had found while her amusement continued to build.​
People watching would keep her entertained for now, right up until she found something or someone worth joining in on the frey for.​
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Wearing a bright yellow swimsuit and surrounded by a hue array of other Zeltrons, Cali Ziiva glided onto the beach with giggles and cheers. Her entourage split off in every direction to see what was happening and where the fun could be found. Left her one her own for a bit to survey the scene. It was important to make sure people felt happy. That was the whole point of Zeltros! Everyone. Happy. Always. Simple philosophy and no one was allowed to leave unsatisfied. Except for the really twisted people -- a cutey could only do so much.

It was good to see so many Mandalorians chilling. A few looked a little stiff here or there, but eventually they'd get a drink or something, right? Maybe end up in a chat with someone? Cali would like to think the heat or standing all day would tire them out but she knew better. Mandalorians could suffer for ages without breaking a sweat. They were almost the anti-Zeltron (minus being Elemental Evil), but then you saw them actually cutting loose for a bit and they weren't so terrifying after all. At least on Zeltros.

A short while later, the bubblegum pink Zeltron was seen sitting atop a box with a cone of shaved ice in one hand. Her feet kicked idly in front of her with her bright gaze pointed out over the water. That's how Cali came to spy Reina venturing up toward the mobile tiki-stand nearby where she'd gotten the treat.

Without saying anything, Cali waved at Reina Daival Reina Daival with a big smile on her face.

If Reina walked by, the Zeltron remained seated there with her eyes forward until she heard the woman place her order. That's when she hopped off the box and slowly ambled in her direction. "Heya. I'm Cali. Nice to meet ya. Which flavor did ya order? I like cherry. Normally I'd say chocolate, but chocolate shaved ice just isn't the same as real chocolate, ya know?"


 

Tag: Cali Ziiva Cali Ziiva
Objective: Beach

Was she being waved at? Reina glanced behind herself to see if there was anyone behind her...but there didn't seem to be. Well. That was a surprise. Reina raised a hand in response to Cali Ziiva Cali Ziiva giving an awkward smile in response. Talking to strangers wasn't exactly her forte...but it seemed that either fortunately, or unfortunately depending upon how you looked at it, she wasn't going to get a choice in the matter.

"Reina. I've ordered strawberry. I was fancying something red."

For a moment, Reina hesitated. Did she try and make an effort to be more energetic? To be more friendly than she normally would? There was...something about Zeltros that was mellowing out the Ersansyr. It was perhaps something in the air, or seeing other people being happy. She shook her head for a moment, rubbing the back of her neck.

"Y'know how it is. Need to eat something red to keep my hair colour. Makes up for a nice change from eating fish."

Okay. Maybe humour wasn't exactly her forte either. It was ironic in a way. Ersansyr were meant to be these extravagant and social species, experts on socialising and making friends!...Whereas here was Reina, being awkward. At the very least, it was more of an...adorable awkwardness as opposed to the kind that would put people off.

"Pretty nice place you have here...I mean, I'm not implying the beach is yours...but that it looks good. Always been a fan of a good beach. I probably wouldn't be able to do any fishing nearby from all the noise...but it's nice to take a dip in."

At that, the Ersansyr brushed flecks of sand off herself. It was no surprise that there was quite a bit stuck to her after going from a swim. In a way though, the golden sand did seem to go with her scales. In the past, she would have felt far too awkward to be seen in public, and shifted back to looking more "human" like whilst she was in the water...but she was doing her best to be as comfortable as she could with who she was.
 


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"Ooh, tasty!" Strawberry was good too.

Cali's eyes widened and her head tilted a bit to the side. "Is that how it works?" Well, Reina's hair was certainly red. "Doesn't work for me, otherwise my hair would be brown from all the chocolate I eat!" A face-splitting grin followed suit afterward.

She turned to look out at the beach and then back to Reina as she complemented the scene. "You really like fishing, huh?" Reina sounded like she ate a lot of fish. "There are beaches along the coast for that. Calm, quiet places where people aren't even supposed to get frisky. Innocent romance can disturb wildlife too. Uh, so I hear." A soft melodic laugh intruded. "I don't often fish, myself. I mean, I'll eat a fish, but not often. Strong smell. I'm more of a sugar gal, myself."

"Do you need a towel? Brushing away sand with your sands is tricky business. Just likes to cling to anything damp."
Cali'd would snatch one up from nearby if Reina wanted one. "Guess you're pretty good at swimming. I can manage not to drown, but I don't think I'd win any marathons. There are groups for that around here, if you ever want a little exercise between a relaxing dip too."

Reina Daival Reina Daival


 
Veyla let the bright, shifting glow of the racing board wash over her for a moment, the neon colors reflected in the emerald of her eyes as she listened to the two men volley their philosophies about underdogs and divine comedic timing. Zeltros always felt like a world built from excess and sensation. Still, standing between these two Kryptonic opposites—a cosmic wanderer with star-strange humor and a Warden carved from iron and quiet conviction—she felt strangely grounded. The chaotic music, the roar of the crowd, even the sugar-sweet scent of Zeltron cocktails drifting from the bar all faded into a kind of rhythm she found unexpectedly easy to slip into.

She stepped a little nearer, folding her arms loosely, letting her red hair spill over one shoulder as the absurd pink lettering of Nebulous Fizzlestomp the Third pulsed again with almost mocking confidence. A breath of laughter threatened, though she kept it restrained, letting the wryness reach her eyes instead.

"If that creature wins," she murmured, the dryness in her tone unmistakable, "I'm dragging both of you to the nearest altar on this planet and demanding the galaxy explain itself. Thoroughly."

She felt, rather than saw, Siv's subtle shift beside her, that familiar steadiness of his presence brushing against her awareness, like a hand briefly placed on her back. She allowed herself a glance toward him, one that softened at the edges, before the humor in her gaze sharpened with quiet challenge.

"And I expect that round you promised to be the good stuff, Siv Kryze. Not whatever watered-down tourist brew they pour for offworld diplomats who can't stomach a proper drink."

Then her attention slid back to Ajalurk, and the look she gave him was assessing but warm, the kind she reserved for clan—recognized or newly discovered. She let her eyes sweep him once, head tilted with interest.

"And you," she said, her voice gaining a low, amused edge, "defending Old Scratch Snuggleshine like he's some underdog prophet sent to enlighten us all? That's dedication."

She reached out and tapped the board lightly with two fingers, right beside the name, her smirk deepening. "If he's half as mighty as you make him sound, then fine—I'll give him his due." A brief pause—just long enough to let the tease breathe. "But I'm still not betting on him."

The hall erupted with another burst of cheers as a new racer flashed across a hologram. Still, Veyla stood comfortably amid the noise, her posture relaxed, her presence quietly steady as though the bright, chaotic world around them bent just slightly around their little pocket of clan gathering.

"We're here to breathe," she said at last, her voice softening into something honest without losing its warmth. "Even warriors need an evening that isn't carved from fire and steel. Zeltros may be loud and ridiculous, but… it has its charm. It reminds you that life can be more than survival."

Her shoulder brushed Siv's—light, familiar, grounding—before she looked toward Ajalurk again with a spark that was equal parts curiosity and invitation.

"So go on, Ajalurk Kryze. You see meaning where the rest of us see chaos. You speak like you've walked half the galaxy backward to understand the way it breathes."

A faint smile tugged at her mouth, equal parts challenge and play. "Tell me what you see in these lost-cause racers the rest of us don't." She tipped her chin toward him."And don't you dare say 'the universe whispered it' unless you plan to buy the next two rounds."

Siv Kryze Siv Kryze Ajalurk-Chaidth Kryze Ajalurk-Chaidth Kryze
 

Tag: Cali Ziiva Cali Ziiva
Objective: Beach

"Hm...Brown hair could suit you. I've always been a white hair fan."

Reina's smile seemed to grow ever so slightly. Though she gave a short nod at Cali's statement about Reina liking fishing, as the redhead turned to look over towards the sea, resting her hands against her hips for a moment.

"Fishing used to be my life. I was raised around it. Made a living from it. Now...it's just a hobby though."

Well, it was more than just a hobby in a way. With Reina working as a mercenary and moving from planet to planet, fishing was one of the main ways she could have a stable food source sometimes. Though Reina's eyebrow raised at the mentioning of...friskiness and innocence romance. A flush coming over the redhead's cheeks, as she tried not to think about some very recent memories for her...and the moment she found out that desert doesn't always mean desert.

"I've...became more of a sugar lover recently. Used to eat very bland. Mostly fish. Or whatever the Order recommended."

She took the towel from Cali, giving a small nod of thanks before working on brushing the sand away with it carefully. It was perhaps a waste of energy, considering the fact that Reina was going to go back into the ocean sooner or later...yet she raised an eyebrow at Cali's comments about swimming.

"Might be a bit unfair if I do some marathons. I'm...kinda built for the sea nowadays."

At that the Ersansyr tapped her neck a few times to bring attention to her gills. As much as she wouldn't mind showing how well she could swim...There was still a part of her that didn't like the idea of having an unfair advantage. Yet that wasn't the part that Reina was focused on...

"If you want, I can always help you work on your swimming. It's a valuable skill to have. An even better skill to have confidence in. Think how many people would come down to the beach, if they could get rescued by a Zeltron lifeguard."
 


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"Ooh. We have several Zeltron lifeguards on duty just in this area alone. Lots and lots of them." Cali beamed for a moment. "'Cause, ya know, they tend to get distracted, so we have to make sure there's enough coverage at all times." What could you do? Zeltrons just weren't built for standing still. "Though I wouldn't mind if you showed me a thing or two! Sounds kinda fun."

"Wouldn't hurt. Been a few close calls out in a sea or two. Like, one time, I was at the bottom of this really deep ocean submersible thing while an invasion was going on. Had to get the power station back online for the defense system. Place was a mess! But if things had gone wrong I would have had to tread water; and there wasn't anything else nearby to swim too, so I don't know what that means far as technique, but I still think learning is a good idea."

"As for marathons, if you like doing that kind of thing, you really should check it out."
Cali looked up the beach a bit and then back to Reina. "I think it's one of the huts that way about ten minutes. Anyway, they can take all kinds of things into account to keep it fair. Lots of different species in the galaxy, and this is all about having fun." Reina's gills had gotten a quick peek, but not any kind of prolonged stare. Some Zeltron might have stared a little longer, but not much. Cali just happened to be well acquainted with the galaxy and lots of species. Many Zeltrons never left, on the other hand; but they still got plenty of diversity in guests coming to them instead.

"So, what kind of sugary treat do you like?"

Reina Daival Reina Daival


 

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