Dominion TINY UMBRELLAS || ME Dominion of Zeltros

[Renn Vizsla]

Tag: Adelle Bastiel | Sibylla Abrantes | Aurelian Veruna




Renn leaned one shoulder against the railing, the wood warm beneath his palm, the sea breeze tugging lazily at his open Palm-Tree ridden shirt. The laughter from the other Mandalorians on the far end of the yacht rolled across the deck like a familiar stormfront, loud, chaotic, and entirely predictable. Compared to that, this corner of the party felt almost… calm.

Adelle’s smirk held just enough bite to be genuine, and Renn returned it with a slight tilt of his head, as if acknowledging a hit well landed.

“Expert on Mandalorian courting rituals?” he echoed, the corner of his mouth lifting. “That’s flattering, but dangerous. You say that too loud and some fool on the other side of the ship will appoint me to another council.”

He caught the flicker of hesitation in her eyes when his stare had lingered earlier, and his tone softened by a fraction, not apologetic, but clarifying.

“If you’d crossed a line,” he said quietly, “you’d know. The Chancellor’s still breathing, the cat hasn’t declared war, and nobody threw you overboard. You’re fine.”

The effect of reassurance was somewhat ruined by the fact that he was delivering it in swim trunks covered in cartoon Basilisks. But such was life on Zeltros.

When she claimed to only catch grenades on battlefields, he huffed a low laugh.

“Good,” he said. “Means I don’t have to file a report for ordinance misuse at the beach.”

And then it was just the two of them, a spukami reclaiming her seat, the ocean stretching out in star-speckled indigo, and the faint scent of citrus drinks mingled with sea-salt.

He didn’t mind the quiet. Mandalorians didn’t always need conversation. Sometimes standing beside someone was enough.

But Adelle’s voice broke through the silence, easy, steady.

“Enjoying the vacation?”

Renn let his gaze drift to the waves far below. Lanterns from the yacht cast shifting trails of light across the water.

“As much as a man can,” he said. “It’s rare for my work to bring me somewhere the only explosions are fireworks and poor life choices.”

He sipped his drink, some Zeltron concoction that glowed faintly like bioluminescent algae, and added, “The galaxy’s heavy enough. Nights like this remind you it doesn’t always have to be.”

There was something thoughtful in Adelle’s posture, chin lifted slightly, shoulders relaxed, her scars catching faint reflections from the torches. He didn’t stare, but he noticed. A Mandalorian noticed everything.

Her next question pulled a real laugh out of him. Not a rumble. Not a smirk. A laugh.

“The trunks?” He looked down at them as if re-evaluating his life choices. “If I say no, the Zeltros delegation will think I’m rejecting a cultural gift. If I say yes…” He gestured at himself, a warrior in a floral shirt and basilisk-print shorts. “This becomes part of my reputation.”

He lifted his drink to her in mock salute.

“So congratulations, Bastiel. You’ve just witnessed the moment my dignity surrendered.”

His eyes, unshielded tonight, a sharp steel-blue rather than visor-black, met hers with a dry warmth.

“And you? Are you surviving the Mandalorian beach traditions, or should I alert someone to ready a medbay for cultural shock?”

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Yacht Party
Tags: Renn Vizsla | Open

He laughed, openly. Not something blanketed with composure until it was little more than a low thunder, an actual laugh. Adelle had only really seen him at the feast on Nessantico, armored by beskar'gam and ceremony. He hadn't been among the wounded flooding the medbays on their return from the wargames-turned-assault on the third Death Star. It eased the coiled tension in her chest, the worry and habit of strict restraint in the face of those that wielded more influence than she ever did. Adelle smiled, bringing her drink up again.

"I'll mark the day down in history," she said, draining the last little bit of her drink. "I doubt very much it'll happen again. You don't seem the type to surrender much, if anything."

When he mentioned readying a medbay for her culture shock, she scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"I work those medbays, they're not equipped for that." She set her glass down gently on the table with an array of other beverages, tiny umbrellas fluttering in the sea breeze. "It's . . . not all that different from the shore leave the CorSec agents I worked with would do. A little less restrained in some ways. You got dressed-down if you even thought of explosives."

A stronger gust of wind rushed over the yacht and Adelle closed her eyes briefly, letting the smell of salt and the sound of waves wash over her. The ocean always reminded her of Coronet City and the quiet months of recovery she'd been allowed. A loud cheer came from the other group, shattering whatever stillness there had been. Adelle smiled to herself and opened her eyes.

"I should go join the party. It is why I came," she said, more to herself. "But I doubt there'll be many more quiet moments in the future. I do wonder if the Empire will get the brilliant idea to try a fourth Death Star, since it's always worked out so well for them."

 

[Renn Vizsla]

Tag: Adelle Bastiel | Sibylla Abrantes | Aurelian Veruna




Renn watched her drain the last of her drink, the faint curl of her smile reflected in the soft lantern-light drifting across the yacht’s deck. Her ease now was different, less guarded, more natural, and he found himself appreciating that far more than any political decorum she might have felt obligated to offer him.

“Mark it in history if you want,” he said, the amusement still tugging faintly at his voice, “but don’t go carving a monument. If word spreads that I laughed at a beach party, half the warriors on Roon will assume I’ve been replaced by a changeling.”

He shifted his weight along the railing, elbow resting atop the polished wood. The wind tugged the Hawaiian shirt away from his frame again, the bright floral pattern clashing almost offensively with the scars crossing his chest and ribs. He didn’t bother adjusting it. Zeltros had a way of unmaking even the most committed stoic.

“You’re right about one thing,” he added with a nod toward her earlier jab. “I don’t surrender easily.”

A breath.

“But even I know when a battle isn’t worth fighting. The trunks, for example. That was a war I lost before it began.”

Her eye roll at the mention of medbays earned a quiet chuckle from him.

“CorSec shore leave, hmm?” Renn hummed. “That explains the way you size up every exit and the liquor like they’re both potential weapons. Old habits die hard.”

The breeze strengthened, rustling her hair and his shirt alike. For a moment, neither spoke, just the ocean hissing against the hull and the distant chorus of Mandalorians cheering some poor fool into a splash too loud to be anything but spectacularly painful. Renn followed the sound with a tilt of his head, lips twitching.

“They’re going to start a competition if I don’t intervene,” he muttered, half to himself. “And I swear if someone yells ‘For Mandalore!’ before launching off the side of this yacht, I’m assigning sobriety drills tomorrow.”

Her voice drew him back, softer for a moment as she talked about quiet moments and the future.

Then she invoked the Empire and the possibility of,

“a fourth Death Star.”

Renn stared at her.

Then he brought a hand to his face and dragged it down slowly.

“Please don’t put that into the galaxy,” he said. “With our luck, someone somewhere just felt inspired.”

He pushed off the railing then, straightening to his full height as he glanced toward the louder half of the yacht.

“You should join the party,” he agreed.

A beath.

“But before you do,”

He shifted his stance slightly, angling toward her, voice lowering just enough to cut through the surrounding noise.

“Bastiel… you handled yourself well tonight. With the Chancellor. With Sibylla. With all this chaos. Not every warrior can switch from battlefield discipline to social diplomacy without losing themselves in one or the other.”

His gaze softened, a rare thing for him.

“You manage it. Don't underestimate that.”

He stepped back then, giving her space to move toward the festivities.

“And if a fourth Death Star does appear,” he added dryly, “try not to catch that one with your bare hands.”

He gave her a small nod, respectful, wry, and unmistakably Mandalorian.

“Enjoy the night, Adelle.”​

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Yacht Party
Tags: Renn Vizsla

She had to smile at the idea of a rumor of Renn Vizsla, Warden of Roon, laughing making it very far among the Mandalorians. "I really doubt that a talltale like that would go anywhere but don't worry. Your secret's safe with me."

The sun-warmed railing felt nice in juxtaposition with the cool breeze blowing off the ocean. Adelle leaned against it, listening and staring at the decking absently. She did have a habit of locating exits and firing lanes when entering a building and sitting in a place she could watch the entrance. Granted, none of that kept her safe from the unfathomably bad luck to have a fight of some kind break out in nearly every bar she frequented. It was like he said, old habits died hard.

And paranoia kept them alive and well.

He mentioned something about the other Mandalorians starting a competition and she raised an eyebrow at him. Start one? They were more than likely in the middle of one. A splash punctuated the thought. By the sound of it, it was more than likely a diving competition. She could hear Aurelian's voice, all charm and mischief and a touch more distant than before, among the Mandalorians. It was probably a safe bet that he'd join in before the night was over.

Adelle winced when Renn pointed out her error in calling out a fourth Death Star. With her luck especially, the Empire would see fit to sic it on the Mandalorians first and hit her apartment first. Renn straightened, agreeing that she should join the party.

The compliment that followed blindsided her.

She'd been called many things in her old Jedi Order and in CorSec. Reckless had been one. Dangerous, another. Trouble. Skilled. A weapon. And once, a miracle worker. Someone that balanced discipline and diplomacy had not been among them. Adelle had never thought of herself as particularly capable in political situations. But Renn said it with that Mandalorian ironclad certainty, she couldn't help but believe him. She gave him a nod, acknowledging the compliment but not quite able to form the words 'thank you.'

His parting snark brought back some of the sass she'd felt earlier.

"I make no such promises," she said with a smirk and picked up one of the beverages with a tiny umbrella. "You as well, Renn."

~exuent, pursued by a bursa~​

 

[Aselia Verd]

Wearing: A black bikini
Objective: Relax

Aselia listened without interrupting a rarity for a Mandalorian, rarer still for someone who’d seen Reina’s brutality firsthand. She didn’t flinch at the buried anger, or the quiet fracture lines running through the girl’s voice. If anything, her posture eased, shoulders rolling back just slightly.

When Reina flushed, stumbled, folded in on herself defensively, Aselia’s features softened by a fraction a tiny shift, but real. The kind of look someone gives a wounded animal they don’t want to spook.

And then Reina said she looked good.

That earned a brief blink and a low, almost surprised huff of laughter the first genuine sign of mirth she’d shown all day.

“Relax Mesh'la,” Aselia said gently, voice low and steady, the kind that calmed rather than pressed. “You’re not offending me. I’ve been called far worse than ‘unexpected.’

A memory flickered behind her eyes Atrisia burning, disruptor fire painting the air, Reina drenched in ash and fury like a spirit of vengeance.

“You fought like hell that day. And you kept civilians alive.”
Her gaze held Reina’s, unwavering. “That stays with me. In a good way.”

She let the compliment settle without dressing it up, because sincerity was something she never wasted.

Aselia listened to Cali's enthusiastic explanation with a small, quiet smile the kind that softened her usually sharp features. Zeltros' energy was… a lot. But she found that she didn't mind it.

"Always like this?" Aselia echoed, glancing around at the colorful chaos of the beach. "I can see why outsiders try to take it. And why you'd want someone holding the line for you."

Her gaze slid back to Reina as Cali went on, the Zeltron practically bouncing through her list of conversation starters. By the time Cali reached favorite sweet, Aselia huffed a soft laugh warm, understated, entirely genuine.

"The correct answer is all sweets are good." she said gently, though the fondness in her tone. "So introductions." he offered a hand to Cali "Aselia Verd." she then turned and offered the same hand to Reina. "Would you two care to join me for a drink? And maybe some sweets for our Zeltron host. First round is on me."

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TAG: Cali Ziiva Reina Daival

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[Reina Daival]

Tag: Cali Ziiva Aselia Verd
Objective: Beach

"Mhm...You say that. But sometimes, it's better to be special. There are people in this Galaxy who deserve better than a no-body with nothing to their name. Who deserve better than a failed Padawan. Than a run of the mill mercenary...but forget about it."

Reina didn't want to dwell on it. The more she thought about it, the worse her headspace got about it. Reina had never been ambitious. Not for herself. But recently, she had felt the need to prove herself. To be someone instead of a no-one in the Galaxy. Even though she knew it was more peaceful to be a no-one, she didn't want to be that. She wanted to be someone to know.

"Mesh...Mesh what? Sorry. I only speak Basic...and Mon Calamari. Long story."

Even as Reina spoke, still doing her hardest to control the melody that came out, it was hard for her to hide the musical lit to every word. Almost as if she could burst into song at any moment. Not that she would. She was still...somewhat serious in this moment, even if somewhat vulnerable.

"...I only fought like that because I was looking for someone."

A lie. Why? Reina wouldn't know herself. Was she lying to herself? To Aselia? Who knows. In reality, she couldn't stand by and let people suffer under the Empire like that. An irony, considering the jobs she held under the Black Suns and the Sith...but that was different. She didn't go after innocents in those jobs. Sure, the people she worked for did, but it wasn't her.

Either way, she didn't have to focus on that as Cali spoke to the Mandalorian. There were talks of what someone could call politics, and whilst Reina didn't want to pay attention to it...It would be somewhat important for her to listen to. The state of the Galaxy would be important for a mercenary. Especially with what jobs could be coming up. Yet she was once again snapped out of those thoughts as Cali spoke, seemingly putting emphasis on the fact that Reina and the Mandalorian didn't have time to introduce each other. Important things, like names. And less important things...like shared pastimes. And then Aselia introduced herself.

"...I'm Reina...I'll have a small drink. Nothing too heavy. I'd prefer to keep my mind clear."

In the past? She'd have happily drunk like a sailor. But with her tolerance for alcohol being severely reduced...Reina didn't fancy the idea of being drunk amongst a pair of strangers. Especially two rather good-looking strangers. For her, that was a nightmare waiting to happen.



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[Cali Ziiva]

Reina spoke up and the pink woman among them couldn't help but look at her. "But you are special."

Cali turn and grinned at Aselia. The beaches of Zeltros were a magical place her people spent every day making stay that way. Why there were great ecological stewards of their world. Which was a bit ironic since they were so busy being hedonistic, but things still managed to get done. "Doesn't hurt for a even a Mandalorian to kick back every now and then between jobs. Lots to do on Zeltros." Yes, even family entertainment. They were known for adult entertainment, but Cali always said that said more about the visitors not the cuties just helping people enjoy themselves.

"Oh," the Zeltron perked up as Aselia introduced herself as though unexpected, "I'm Cali Ziiva, but I think I already said that." Part of it. She'd already forgot what she'd said. Remembered everything everyone else said though. "And we have lots of drinks that don't have alcohol," she added for Reina's benefit. "Not all entertainment options are better drunk, ya know?"

People were free to drink, obviously, and they did. Cali wasn't certain why though. You could get so drunk you wouldn't remember all the fun! Well, if people enjoyed getting drunk it wasn't like the Zeltrons were going to tell them to stop. Unless it became obvious it wasn't "fun" they were having.

"Come on," the pink one reached out to take both women's hands to lead the way to the nearest serving station. "So many things to try! And talk about! Have either of you ever gone surfing?" A beat. "Above the waves." No cheating by their local under-the-sea Mer.

Aselia Verd | Reina Daival

 

[Aselia Verd]

Wearing: A black bikini
Objective: Relax

Aselia listened without interrupting, arms loosely folded, posture relaxed in a way that would have looked impossible on her in armor. The beach had softened her edges just enough sun-warmed skin, black bikini stark against her pale tone, red hair pulled back into a practical ponytail that still caught the light when she moved.

When Reina finished, Aselia's expression shifted a silent recognition.

"Being special is overrated," she said plainly, voice calm, grounded. "It gets people killed. Or used. Or worshipped until they stop being seen as people at all. Being someone to the people you care about? That matters. Everything else is noise."

Her gaze softened slightly, but she didn't look away.

"And for what it's worth," she added, "no one who walks into hell looking for someone else is a nobody. Failed Padawan, mercenary, whatever labels you're stacking on yourself they don't erase your choices."

Reina's confusion came next, and that finally drew a faint, genuine smile from Aselia.

"Mesh'la," she repeated, just a touch of amusement creeping in. "Mando'a."

She leaned in a fraction, a bit conspiratorial. "It means beautiful. Not 'nice to look at.' More like someone who leaves an impression without trying."

Her shoulders lifted in a small shrug. "And no, you don't get to argue with it. That's not how it works."

Then Cali chimed in again, ever-bubbly, ever-moving, and Aselia let herself be tugged along, allowing the Zeltron to take her hand without resistance. She glanced back at Reina as they started toward the drinks, tone easy now, lighter.

"For the record," she added, "You don't need to watch your words around me. I'm the black sheep of House Verd"

A faint smirk formed on her lips.

"And if you're keeping your head clear, I'll do the drinking for the both of us. Just don't leave my passed on the beach somewhere."

She let Cali lead them the rest of the way, sun, music, and salty air washing over her.

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TAG: Cali Ziiva Reina Daival

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[Reina Daival]

Tag: Cali Ziiva Aselia Verd
Objective: Beach

Was she special? Did people care about her? Was that why she was out here, alone, wandering through the Galaxy? It was too much for Reina to think about. It was hard enough keeping her composure amongst strangers. With too much assaulting her senses, she tried her hardest not to think. Which would be a lot harder than one might have expected as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

"I only went looking for them, because if it wasn't for me, who would? I didn't choose to do it. I had to."

Because if she didn't, what was her training for? It would be a waste, if she had retreated with Ayame. Reina had the skills. The training. So she had to save them. Even if she hadn't even managed to do that. Luckily for her however, Aselia managed to distract Reina from that thought when she revealed what Mesh'la meant. Causing a slight blush...that only grew into a much brighter one at the clarification...

"Well...then...it fits you as well! Mesh'le...Mash'la?...You get my point!"

...Perhaps in time Reina would get a better understanding of Mando'a. After all, Ersansyr were meant to have a talent with picking up new languages. Though as they walked together as a trio, the conversation moving towards drinks, Reina couldn't quite figure out what to discuss...so she decided it would be best to just answer Cali's question.

"A few times. In the past. When I was still human. People always used to try and get me to race...but that's not why I'd surf. It'd be to clear my mind. Now I do that just be sitting under the waves. Watching them crash over me. It lets me feel...invisible.""

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[Cali Ziiva]

Cali giggled as she led the ladies to a hut to get some drinks.

"Feel free to drink as much as you want or not. Hey," she looked at Reina wide-eyed, "you ever had a Strawberry shake? It's cool, and creamy, and delicious." A quick wave had one of the serving gals over to take their orders. If either of them needed any help, their local guide would happily point out a few tasty treats on the menu.

"Ya know, you can be invisible surrounded by people too. Well, mostly invisible, except to a few. I mean, you know, people'll want to get to know you. You don't have to talk to all of them, but you get to choose!" The Zeltron looked at the Mer for a moment. "I'm talking about parties. Zeltron has countless parties and clubs. Plenty of parties elsewhere in the galaxy. I host some bangers on my own ship -- Most Explosive Party in the Galaxy! Point is, I think you should try chillin' among so many you get lost in the crowd like the sea. Maybe find someone you can talk to."

A peek at Aselia followed. Reina seemed interested in the other woman, and she in turn wasn't exactly giving off cold shoulder vibes. Still, didn't hurt to encourage Reina to experiment. Find even more people. As a Zeltron, Cali couldn't begin to imagine what being totally alone would be like. Just didn't compute.

Aselia Verd | Reina Daival

 

[Aselia Verd]

Wearing: A black bikini
Objective: Relax

Aselia slowed her pace just enough to stay beside Reina as they walked, sand warm beneath bare feet, the distant surf a steady hush beneath the music and laughter. Without armor she moved differently—looser, shoulders relaxed, one hand absently hooked into the strap of the bag slung at her hip. The black bikini was practical in its own way, simple lines, nothing ornamental. Her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail that swayed when she turned her head, catching the sun in copper-gold strands. For once, there was no helm to hide the small expressions that crossed her face.


Reina's words landed heavier than they sounded.

"I didn't choose to do it. I had to."

Aselia glanced over, blue eyes thoughtful rather than judging. "You always have a choice. Regardless of training or expectations, you made a choice, to get up, get on a ship and fly into a warzone. Whatever motivated that is irrelevant, you made the choice."

When Reina stumbled over mesh'la and then promptly turned it back on her Aselia let out a quiet laugh, low and warm. "Close enough," she said, teasing but gentle. "You'll get it eventually. Mando'a likes to trip people on purpose."

She listened while Reina talked about surfing, about clearing her mind, about being invisible beneath the waves. Aselia's gaze drifted out toward the water, watching the sunlight break across the surface in shifting shards.

"Yeah," she said after a pause. "I get that too. Being somewhere big enough that it doesn't care who you are." Her shoulders lifted in a small shrug. "For me it was space. Stars don't expect anything from you. They just…are. My father casts a large shadow."

Cali's enthusiasm washed over them like a tide, strawberry shakes and party wisdom included. Aselia chuckled softly at that, letting the Zeltron's energy pass through without resisting it. When Cali mentioned being invisible in a crowd, Aselia nodded once, slow.

"She's not wrong," she added, glancing back to Reina. "Crowds can hide you just as well as the ocean. Difference is you get to decide when you surface." A pause, then a sideways look. "And who you talk to."

She tilted her head, expression open, unguarded. "You don't have to be special for the whole galaxy. That's exhausting." A hint of humor crept in. "Just…be special to a few people who actually see you. That's plenty."

As they reached the hut and the shade cooled her skin, Aselia leaned lightly against the counter, clearly at ease. Work mode was far away here no HUD, no threat overlays, just sand and sun and two women trying to figure themselves out.

"And for what it's worth," she added, voice quieter now, meant only for Reina, "people don't go looking for others the way you did unless they already matter. Whether you want to admit it or not."

She smiled then easy, sincere. "Now. Strawberry shake, huh? I'm trusting you both on this."

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TAG: Cali Ziiva Reina Daival

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[Reina Daival]

Tag: Cali Ziiva Aselia Verd
Objective: Beach

"...It must be nice to have a family's shadow to be in sometimes."

Of course, that wasn't what Aselia had meant about her father having a big shadow, but it was how Reina saw it. A shadow meant identity. And Reina had spent so long, without a shadow of her family. Marking her own way through everything. And even if she had found her family, that didn't mean she was in their shadow. She was still in her. She was in the shadow of a nobody.

"...I'm fairly familiar with parties. Masquerades. Been to a fair few. Just stood off to the side, watching. You say people want to know me? I've very much seen the opposite. Which...is fine by me I suppose."

It wasn't fully fine by Reina. She wanted to be someone. To have people want to walk up to her and know who she was. It was almost ironic in a way that she used an alias for some of her work. None of that mattered however. Strawberry shakes were what mattered right now, as Reina raised an eyebrow, glancing over towards Aselia.

"Hey. Don't trust me. I've never been big on milkshakes until recently."

She raised her hands up somewhat defensively at that, breaking out into a small smirk. Reina may not have been overly social, but she was slowly learning how to relax. How to get comfortable with strangers. Every day was a new learning experience.

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[Cali Ziiva]

​

"You're gonna make me hug you, ya know?" Cali looked over at Reina with bright eyes. "So, better brace yourself for it." Cali grinned.

With a fist thrown into the air, her fingers shot open in a high wave for attention. "Three strawberry shakes! With cream, and that little cherry on top because we can." The others were being timid and wary about the whole thing, but the Zeltron of the group wasn't going to wait on consensus. Not that they were lacking it, really.

"So, about those parties," Cali turned back to the pair of women, "ya gotta get in there. Like, out there in the center of the group. And start moving." The Pink One's hips started swaying side to side. "Just a little at first. Give your groove. Then maybe add a little," she started twisting her shoulders forward and back. "Add some steps." Her feet half-stepped about in the same general area. "And get those hands moving too. All small movements at first. Get comfortable. Then just kind of improvise from there. Hopefully someone joins in. Oh," Cali's eyes widened, "uh, make sure there's music first." Nearly forgot the prereq.

Aselia Verd | Reina Daival

 

[Aselia Verd]

Wearing: A black bikini
Objective: Relax

Aselia let out a quiet huff of amusement, the kind that slipped out before she bothered to stop it. One arm rested easy at her side, posture relaxed in a way that had taken years to learn—guard down, not gone.

"A shadow isn't always shelter," she said lightly, glancing sidelong at Reina. "Sometimes it's just… something people expect you to stand under forever." A pause, then a faint smirk. "Trust me. You step out of it once, and everyone suddenly has opinions."

Her gaze flicked to the shake order being enthusiastically declared, then back to Reina's raised hands. Aselia teased. "Milkshakes can't be worse than battlefield rations."

Cali's impromptu dance lesson earned a raised brow and then, unexpectedly, a soft laugh. Aselia shifted her weight, mirroring one of the simpler movements without even thinking about it. Subtle. Minimal. Enough to prove a point.

"She's not wrong," Aselia admitted. "You don't have to be the center. Just… present." Her eyes softened a touch as they lingered on Reina. "People notice more than you think. Especially when you stop trying not to be noticed."

She gestured vaguely toward the beach, the music, the riot of color and motion. "Worst case? You hate it, finish your shake, and we leave. Best case?" A small shrug. "You find out you're not as invisible as you thought."

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TAG: Cali Ziiva Reina Daival

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