Dominion TINY UMBRELLAS || ME Dominion of Zeltros

[Adelle Bastiel]

Yacht Party
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes | Aurelian Veruna

Sibylla's composure cracked almost as soon as Adelle had finished speaking. A snort, followed by mild choking--as long as she's making noise, I don't need to intervene--which devolved into laughter. It was the infectious kind, especially after strong drinks. Adelle felt her crooked grin widen, feeling quite pleased with herself that she'd made the Queen of Naboo choke with laughter.

Adelle watched as Aurelian waxed into a tragic figure worthy of a Coruscanti stage play. Truly, Naboo loved drama.

When he opened his shirt a little more, mischief gleaming in his eyes, Adelle raised an eyebrow. "Careful, Aurelian. You'll have Mandalorians asking you to joust them if you open that shirt any more."

She raised her glass in return, her own smile nothing but sass. "This time, make it a challenge. It was all too easy that last 'round.' After all . . ."

Adelle knelt a moment and Phantom leapt nimbly up onto her shoulders, draping herself around Adelle's neck like a stole and purring.

"You are going up against a professional at being impossible to ignore. I'd hate for the war for Naboo to end so . . . anticlimactically."

Somewhere else on the ship there was splashing and cheers, mingling with the music. Mild curiosity arose to see what her vod were getting into now, but so long as she didn't hear anything exploding, she assumed things were fine. And she'd already warned them plenty about sun block so if they got burned, that was on them as far as she was concerned.

"I will say, in another life, you could have done quite well as an actor."

 

[Renn Vizsla]

Tag: Sibylla Abrantes | Aurelian Veruna | Adelle Bastiel




The shuttle skimmed low across the darkening water, spray misting up and clinging to Renn’s bare shins. Ahead, the yacht floated like a drifting lantern, gold lights strung along its rails, music spilling softly across the waves, silhouettes moving on the upper deck. Laughter carried faintly over the sound of engines.

Renn stood in the open side door, red Hawaiian shirt snapping in the wind, the flower lei bouncing lightly against his collarbone. The tiny Basilisk-patterned swim trunks were bright enough to shame the stars. He still wasn’t sure how he’d been talked into them.

Zeltros. It always won its battles.

As the shuttle angled in, he spotted familiar shapes on deck, postures he’d learned to recognize even at a distance. The way one figure lounged with practiced ease, the elegant tilt of another’s head, the relaxed poise of a third with something small and furred draped across her shoulders. Their laughter had an ease to it he could feel even from here.

It was… good. They deserved that kind of evening.

The shuttle kissed softly against the yacht’s hull. Renn stepped off onto polished decking, the wood warm beneath his bare feet. The lantern light washed over him, shirt, lei, trunks, sea salt still drying on his skin. He caught the lingering scent of fruit from his earlier drink, or perhaps from the glass still clutched loosely in his hand.

The deck’s gentle sway surprised him. No armor. No boots. No weight dragging him into the earth. Just the rhythm of water and the bright hum of a party somewhere behind him on the shore.

He paused near the railing, taking in the scene without interrupting it. The yacht felt different from the beach, quieter, warmer, a space carved out for conversation instead of chaos. Lanterns flickered in the breeze. Someone had set out drinks with tiny umbrellas on a nearby table, their colors almost mocking in their cheerfulness.

Renn felt the tension in his shoulders loosen another fraction.

This wasn’t a battlefield. Not one he needed to fight, anyway.

He adjusted the lei, still not used to the sensation of flowers brushing his sternum, and stepped forward onto the deck proper. He didn’t announce himself; he didn’t need to. His presence carried far enough on its own. Instead he let the moment open naturally, let the others see him when they did, let the shift in attention roll over him like another gentle wave.

A Mandalorian Warmaster arriving to a yacht party in a ridiculous shirt and worse swimwear.

Stars help him.

But the breeze was warm, the night was young, and for the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel like he needed to brace for impact.

Whatever came next, conversation, drinks, teasing, diplomacy wrapped in laughter, he’d meet it head-on. The way he always did.

Renn crossed fully into the lanternlight, the yacht rocking calmly beneath him, and felt a rare, honest thing settle in his chest.

He could do this.

He could allow himself this.

The galaxy could wait.

Just a little longer.​

 

[Reina Daival]

Tag: Cali Ziiva
Objective: Beach

"I mean...the Black Sun isn't all that bad. There's criminals everywhere you look. If you think about it, they at least keep crime more organised. In a way, that makes the "little guys" safer, right? A big organisation like that isn't going to care about some store. But a small-time gang? They'd do plenty of smash and grabs."

Of course, the only reason why Reina was even saying that was because of the jobs she was occasionally taking for the Black Suns. It wasn't as if she was doing the jobs as Reina. She had an...alternate identity she used for those kind of jobs, alongside a disguise. At the same time however, she could understand the dislike towards the Syndicate. All in all however, she saw the same fault with the Syndicate as she did with most of the other Galactic Superpowers.

"I don't really...do friends. I push people away. Be it directly or indirectly. It's a struggle honestly. Part of me wants to know people. Whereas the other part wants to close myself off. It's like a game of tug of war, with me being the rope."

The bubbly tone Cali had was...something Reina still wasn't sure if she'd be able to get used to it. In fact, she might be the most energetic person Reina had spoken to. Not even Everest was this bubbly. Though Reina tilted her head in thought at Cali's question, raising a finger to her chin.

"Training. Be it with swords. Lightsabers. My hands. Exercise. Fishing. Been tryin' to get into cooking. There's...more that I'm probably not thinking about. What about you? What does Cali like to do? You said you enjoy mechanics, right?"

​

 

[Aselia Verd]

Wearing: A black bikini
Objective: Relax

The shuttle touched down with a low hum, and the scent of salt and sun-warmed air hit Aselia before the ramp had even finished lowering. For once, there was no metallic tang of ozone, no blaster fire in the distance just the rhythmic crash of waves and the hum of laughter carried on a soft sea breeze.

She stepped down slowly, blinking against the light. Zeltros was surreal. Even after all the battlefields, ruins, and endless stretches of cold space, this planet had a pulse that was entirely its own alive, indulgent, impossible to ignore.

Aselia had left her armor behind. Her hair, usually bound tight under a helmet, was tied back in a loose ponytail, the golden strands catching the sunlight. The black bikini she wore was simple functional, but flattering with a light, sheer wrap around her hips that fluttered in the warm wind. Her lightsaber was tucked away in a small canvas satchel slung over her shoulder, buried beneath a towel and a bottle of sunscreen. Just in case.

The idea of a “beach party” felt foreign but after everything on Atrisia and beyond, a break wasn’t the worst thing in the galaxy.

She made her way down the path toward the beach proper, the music growing louder with every step. Laughter, the faint chime of glasses, Zeltrons dancing barefoot in the surf it was chaos of another kind, bright and harmless.

“Zeltros really doesn’t do quiet, do they?” she muttered, half to herself.

Her commlink buzzed in her bag Kes, her droid, pinging in with a single chirp. She smirked faintly, lowering her voice. “Relax, Kes. I’m not getting into trouble. Yet.”

A Zeltron in a floral shirt waved from one of the tiki huts, calling out with infectious enthusiasm, “Hey there, gorgeous! First time on Zeltros? You’ve got that ‘fresh off the ship’ look! Drink’s on the house if you promise to smile!”

Aselia laughed softly under her breath. “We’ll see about that,” she said, making her way over, bare feet sinking into the warm sand.

For once, there was no battle waiting. No mission. No orders.

Just the ocean, the laughter, and a galaxy that for one rare, fragile moment wasn’t trying to kill her.

​

TAG: OPEN

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[Cali Ziiva]

​

Beach!

"Uh, I guess, but I'm concerned about their Slave Market, honestly." Cali turned her head to look down the length of the beach again. "There are a lot of cuties here that some Boss might think to sell into slavery. Any time a galactic government in the Rim fails that's usually what starts to happen with the Twi'lek. I gotta make sure no one stops smiling on Zeltros."

Bright eyes swung back to Reina when she followed up regarding friendship. "Ooh, yeah. I kinda understand, but not really. I'm a very outgoing gal, I'm told, but I know not everyone is." Cali paused and looked up toward the sky for a moment with a hum. "I think, what's important, is that you try, you know? Not every day, but often. Maybe slowly at first. Sure, I mean, there'll be mistakes. It might even feel extremely weird or embarrassing with little butterflies in your belly. But keep at it. Treat it like any other skill -- the more you use it, the less you have to think about using it."

"Me?" Cali asked as if she hadn't thought Reina would ask. "Ooh, well, yeah, mechanics. I fix anything that involves technology. I've even invented or built a number of droids, generators, transportation systems... Thankfully I don't sell a lot of weapons any more. Used to be a thing long ago back when I was getting started in the verse. And then, sometimes, I practice with the lightsaber too. You'd be surprised how often a cutie like me has to whip it out to defend herself or others."

"If you want to spar with a sword later, I'm down. Nothing says that can't be fun with the right partner!"

Reina Daival

 

[Reina Daival]

Tag: Cali Ziiva Aselia Verd
Objective: Beach

"What about teaching them to train themselves? I know it won't solve everything. And...there's probably a fair few Zeltron who wouldn't even dare to wield a weapon...but it's better than being helpless. Trust me. I know a lot about being helpless to fight against something."

There wasn't any elaboration. Reina didn't want to go into it, just saying that she could understand the feeling. The way that Cali was explaining how to be more social made sense. That didn't make it any easier for her unfortunately. Treating it like every other skill was easier said than done. Reina was good at what she was good at. Bad at what she was bad. There was no inbetween for her. Though it seemed that Reina was much better at being social than she expected, going off the fact that Cali seemed surprised that Reina had asked what she liked.

"Yes. You. And...I can get not wanting to sell weapons. I found my sword in some underwater ruins...The only thing I plan on makin' myself is a pair of earrings...to give it to someone as a present."

The idea of having another sparring partner was one that brought an honest smile to her face...before Reina stopped mid-step. There was a voice. A familiar voice. Another benefit of having became an Ersansyr, tunes and noises came far easier to her, as the Ersansyr's head snapped over towards a...not familiar sight whatsoever. The sight of Aselia Verd . Could it be?...In the past, she would have ignored the idea in her head, but there was something about being on Zeltros, and having Cali's bubbly nature next to her that made Reina decide to investigate.

Grabbing the Zeltron by the wrist, Reina dragged her off in the direction of the other redhead. Sure, she could have just told Cali to follow but...Reina wasn't thinking about that. She was on a one track state of mind as she stopped right in front of Aselia, looking down at her.

"You. I recognise you. Well...Not you. Your voice."

​

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

BYOO - Yacht Party​

Location: Zeltros
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes | Adelle Bastiel

Aurelian went still at the word joust. He set his drink down with ceremonial gravity.

"Adelle," he said slowly, "I need you to understand something vital. I will absolutely, without hesitation, get myself challenged to a Mandalorian shirtless jousting match if you keep saying things like that."

He paused, considered, then added with a frown of self-awareness: "And worse, I'll win. Which is dangerous, because then they'll want a rematch, and suddenly I'm part of some ancient cultural rite involving spears, fire, and… probably feathers? Mandalorians have feathers somewhere. I'm certain of it." Her smirk said she was certain of him, which was somehow worse.

"You wound me, Adelle of Clan Phantom. I gave you my full tragic suffering and the cat barely even had to try." Phantom, sprawled across her shoulders like she owned both of them, flicked an ear at him. Aurelian squinted at the creature. "You're enjoying this too much." Phantom purred louder.

He huffed, leaning closer with the practiced ease of a man who'd been born knowing how to be looked at. "You think you've beaten me?" he asked, voice dropping into that dangerously smooth hum. "You think the war for Naboo is already over?" He jerked his chin toward the distant cheers. Mandalorians were definitely competing over something involving a rope and a floatation device shaped like a bantha.

"My people invented drama," he reminded her. "We breathe it. We season our food with it. Children in Theed learn to fake-cry before they learn how to walk." He lifted his glass again, eyes glittering with challenge. "Round two won't be polite." Then, because he couldn't help himself, he added with a smug little hum: "And if Mandalorians want to joust me, fine. But I expect flowers afterward. I'm old-fashioned like that."

​

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

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

The half-dressed Chancellor set down his glass with such gravity that, if Adelle hadn't been an empath, she might have actually thought he was serious. As it was, her eyes glittered with amusement as she took a drink.

"So it's that easy?" she said. "I'll keep that in mind."

He then went on about his imagined future, delving back into the dramatic again. Adelle quietly took another sip, thoroughly enjoying whatever tragic suffering Aurelian seemed to think necessary. What good was cleverness if no one reacted to it? And he reacted so well, this was rapidly becoming an addictive game.

Aurelian's eyes narrowed as he accused the spukami of enjoying herself too much. Phantom purred louder and as if to add insult to injury, opened her mouth in a wide, lazy yawn, stretching out one paw. Adelle felt a vague impression come from Phantom, of watching something small and dumb prance about, oblivious to the predator watching.

"You have no idea how much."

"Over? No, I've had many a battle of wits with men like you, although I hate fighting unarmed opponents," Adelle said, the heat of alcohol now warming her veins. "They never know when to concede and tend to draw things out. Sure, Naboo might have invented drama. But my people invented trouble and the Mandalorians have only perfected that."

She felt Warden Vizsla's approach more than saw it, turning and giving a nod in greeting. Adelle supposed she should be more diplomatic with more important people showing up, but she couldn't help herself.

"Sorry, we're fresh out of flowers. I hope a bouquet of vibroknives will do. Or explosives, but those are usually reserved for proposals."

Wait, was Warden Vizsla wearing swim trunks with tiny Basilisks on them?

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Y A C H T * P A R T Y
Interacting with: Aurelian Veruna | Adelle Bastiel Renn Vizsla
Items: x x x x x

Sibylla wiped at her hands with a damp napkin one of the attendants hastily offered, still laughing beneath her breath as she stepped toward the bar. The Zeltron sun shimmered off the water, bright enough to make the yacht's polished chrome gleam, and the sound of Mandalorian voices mixing with music made the entire deck feel effortlessly alive.

The bartender, already familiar with her earlier order by Aurelian, lifted the bottle in silent question. Sibylla nodded, amused at how quickly she was becoming predictable.

While he prepared the drink, she glanced back toward the others. Aurelian was still edging away from Phantom as if the spukami were a tiny, elegant vornskr. Adelle looked far too entertained. And Phantom herself had seated primly in the perfect spot to observe everything, regal as any Naboo monarch.

Sibylla shook her head, biting back another small laugh.

The bartender passed her the refreshed drink. She took a careful sip, then turned back toward the group, weaving through sun-warmed Mandalorians already exploring the deck and having a good time.

She slowed mid-step as a familiar tall figure drew her attention. It was Warden Renn Vizsla . She waved her hand at him, welcoming and saying hello.

It was just about that time that another attendant drew her attention. Her expression turned serious for a moment, and she gave a subtle nod.

Returning to Aurelian and Adele, while Sibylla could not hear what they were saying, she could certainly see the silent comedy of it. Aurelian pointed subtly toward Phantom, gesturing with the grave solemnity of someone acknowledging an enemy far more powerful than anticipated. Phantom responded by grooming her paw in absolute indifference.

Sibylla's lips twitched, and she had to press her fingers to her mouth to try not to start laughing all over again.

As she stepped closer, she caught only the final snippets of Adelle's voice drifting her way:

"…in another life, you could have done quite well as an actor."

Sibylla stopped, staring at them for half a heartbeat before a soft, helpless laugh escaped her.

"Well.. you are not wrong. He is built for the pomp and drama of the stage." Sibylla declared as she approached, giving Aurelian a side eye glance that said she noticed the extra flashing of skin.

Really? Her expression shot at his direction in amused exasperation.

None the less her gaze warmed as she inclined her head toward Adelle.

"Thank you for keeping him humble," she murmured, her tone light and grateful. Then she dipped her head toward Phantom, offering the regal spukami a respectful smile.

"And you, my lady, seem to be enjoying your newfound influence."

Phantom blinked, slowly and imperiously.

Sibylla turned back to Adele with a soft laugh, brushing a loose chestnut curl behind her ear.

"Alright. I apologize, but I must take the Chancellor away to mind the rest of the festivities... A slight matter came up that requires our attention. It has been a pleasure, Adele, and the same to you, Phantom."

She turned and gestured over towards Warden Vizsla.

"Warden Vizsla! Do come keep Adelle and Phantom company! I'll see if I can get an attendant to get your a drink."

 

[Warpriest Prime]

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O B J E C T I V E | Party on The Beach
L O C A T I O N | Manda Shore Camp
S W I M S U I T | [X]

Vytal Noctura

O P E N​

Dima nodded along to Vytal's remarks about gods and desserts as if the Witch had just spoken some profound cosmic truth. "Mmhm...yes, yes... they don't need them at all! Which means more for us!" she agreed, even as her tongue slowly swept across one fang in hungry anticipation of the sweets she'd demanded from her servant. Her tail thumped once in the sand, heavy, content, serpentine as she reclined deeper into her nest of cushions. The massive appendage instinctively burrowed into the warm beach like a burrowing beast claiming the heat for itself.

She took another long, indulgent drag from her hookah. The smoke came out shimmering and iridescent, drifting lazily into the Zeltron sky. But even that soothing exhale couldn't hide how distracted she'd become, how often her five eyes kept darting toward Vytal and then away again as if caught doing something scandalous.

Dima very nearly tied her tail in a knot trying not to be obvious.

She noticed Vytal's hesitation when the Witch eyed the pipe. Immediately, Dima brightened, eager to reassure, eager to be trusted, and slid it gently into her hands. "O-oh no, nothing spooky!" she insisted, ears flicking. "Just smooth, relaxing. Very normal. If anything weird happens, the gods can smite me right here~" She struck a playful pose and then immediately ruined it by sneaking another full-body glance at Vytal in her swimsuit. Her eyes lingered a little too long before she forced them up at the sky, at the waves, at a random cloud, anywhere but directly at the Witch's hips.

Her fluster didn't escape Vytal. And when the Witch leaned in, close enough for Dima to feel the brush of her aura, her breath caught. The teasing question 'Only stare?' hit harder than any Echani strike ever had. Dima blinked, all five eyes widening as her ears fluttered like startled butterflies. She bit her lip, cheeks warming into a deep blue. "W-well...y-yes," she admitted, voice dropping into something soft, honest. "No one ever really...asks. I always have to take theirs first..." And there it was. The truth. Heavy as a starship, fragile as blown glass.

So when Vytal offered her hand, Dima lit up like a reactor core. A pleased chittering rumble slipped from between the side-teeth that lined her jaw as she reached out with careful, reverent claws and laid her hand into Vytal's. It was delicate, shockingly so for ones whose claws were capable of tearing steel in half. She held on as if the gesture itself was holy.

And then-

"OKAY I'M BACK!"

The moment shattered like a dropped vase. Dima jerked so violently she nearly inhaled the hookah coals. The clergyman marched in, arms overloaded with cinnamon buns, chocolate-dipped berries, three varieties of ice cream, and what looked like an entire bakery's worth of additional sweets. He announced each one at volume as if briefing a war council.

Dima froze, horrified.

Then her face went bright blue.

"OH MY! GIVE ME THAT! I SWEAR ON THE GODS!" In a flurry of limbs she snatched all the trays out of his arms, dumped them unceremoniously into the grasp of another passing clergyman who had not asked for any of this, and then flapped all four hands at the intruder like an enraged seabird. "GET. OUT. YOU'RE RUINING OUR MOMENT!"

The poor man fled for his life.

Silence.

Then Dima sank straight down into her cushions, all four hands flying to her face. Her tail curled around her like a mortified python as she practically folded herself in half beside Vytal.

"O-oh sugarsnaps..." she groaned through her claws. "I karked it all up again~"

Her voice was small, muffled, and very dramatic.

 

[Cali Ziiva]

​

Cali stared over at Reina for a moment before she just smiled. "There are some Zeltrons that fight out there, but for the most part... my people don't do well with it. You could call training a kind of fun. Make it competitive. But real warfare?" Her eyes slid aside for a moment. "No. I've seen war zones, Reina. Preparing my fellow Zeltron for those would scar so many of them. I just couldn't. And I let the Mandalorians know that too. Protecting Zeltros won't get them soldiers, but we on Zeltros have plenty of other skills they can use. Besides just recreation, of course." Okay, maybe not as many as an industrial world, but skills all the same. Empires weren't built solely on industry and military. Well, those were undeniably crucial, but there was more to a people than that even if they were war-zealots.

Fortunately, the Mandalor of Iron understood this, which is why he focused so hard on consolidating his people at the Empire's founding.

"Ah, how much do you know about Zeltrons, by the way? I mean, do you know we're an empathic people? Not capable of empathy -- most sapient life is -- but we can actually sense the emotions of others. We sense each others' emotions all the time. It's why everything you see is designed to make people happy. Someone else is happy so you're happy, and if you're happy someone else is happy. Everyone's happy. Being on the frontlines, even to defend ourselves, would just be so..." Cali looked up at Reina and tilted her head a bit to the side. "Imagine what you've felt, but tens or hundreds or thousands of times worse because you can literally feel it from everyone around you? My people just weren't made for that sort of thing. Not that... many are."

A bob of the head accompanied Reina appreciating her desire not to sell weapons as her primary source of income any more. It had been useful. Got to meet lots of people. But even if she wasn't there when the weapon was used someone was. Once the Confederacy of the South had stopped there just wasn't much point for her to keep doing it. Sell it to some random government that had some random agenda that might cause untold suffering? Uh, no.

"Earrings?" Cali chirped with excitement. "Have you tried already? Got everything you need? I could help hook you up." Now that sounded like a worthwhile venture to support! Making some earrings for someone as a present. That could be a great way for Reina to socialize.

Suddenly, Reina grabbed Cali's wrist and the pair was off on an adventure. The Zeltron in Reina's grasp didn't offer the least bit resistance either. There'd been no sudden surge in negative emotions. If anything there was a sense of... expectation? Excitement maybe?

They came to a stop just as abruptly and Reina declared to know the person...'s voice. Cali peeked around at Aselia. A pink hand came up in an enthusiastic wave. "Oh, hiya. I'm Cali. This is... well, I'll let her introduce herself. I don't know why, but sounds like she really wanted to meetcha. You're from the Empire, right? Welcome to Zeltros! If you need anything, just ask... well, anyone, really, but me especially if you're worried about some of the others getting a little too snuggly. Most of them haven't been off-world." Cali like to snuggle, herself, but she'd long learned not to go around hugging everyone she saw just because they were there.

Now if they were feeling bad she'd totally be down to hugging them, but that was beside the point.

Reina Daival | Aselia Verd

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

BYOO - Yacht Party​

Location: Zeltros
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes | Adelle Bastiel | Renn Vizsla

Aurelian's mouth parted in quiet offense when Adelle declared Mandalorians the perfected descendants of trouble. Before he could retaliate properly, she offered vibroknives as a bouquet substitute. He blinked, then grinned.

"I accept vibroknives," he said solemnly. "They say 'romance' in every language." He lifted a finger. "Explosives, however? Too forward. And if anyone proposes to me with them, I'm sending a strongly worded letter to their mother."

Just then, Warden Renn Vizsla appeared, notably in swim trunks. Aurelian froze, staring as if witnessing the galaxy's strangest diplomatic omen.

Before he could dig himself any deeper or say something that would spark an interplanetary incident involving swimwear, Sibylla returned, looking warm, amused, and entirely too pleased with herself. Aurelian straightened slightly under her gaze, as if caught mid-crime. Which, to be fair, was usually accurate.

Her comment about him being built for drama made him flash a brilliant, unrepentant smile. "I can't help my nature," he said. "Some of us were born for the stage. Others were born to put cats on thrones." Sibylla then thanked Adelle for keeping him humble. Aurelian scoffed. "I am perfectly humble. I have award-winning humility. People speak of it, often tearfully." Phantom blinked at him like she highly doubted that. He pointed at the spukami. "You stay out of this."

Sibylla then slipped her hand lightly around his arm and announced that she must take him to handle some pressing matter. Aurelian looked from Sibylla to Adelle, then gently leaned closer to call back, loudly enough for Adelle and half the deck to hear: "There is no important matter. She just wants me all to herself!"

Sibylla tugged him with greater urgency. Aurelian laughed, letting himself be pulled away, raising his glass in one last farewell salute toward Adelle, Phantom, and Vizsla's treacherous swim trunks. "Round three soon!" he promised over his shoulder, disappearing with Sibylla into the sunlit chaos of the yacht.

-Exit-

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