Faction Welcome to 860

[Amaya Cardei]

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Welcome to the Future.​

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Welcome to the Sith Empire, we invite you to the Grand Crown Hotel in Ravelin, where anyone who's anyone within the Sith Empire is sure to attend. We're celebrating ten years of the Sith Empire, and ringing in the new year. The Hotel has set up some of its best for the Empire from the largest ballroom on Ravelin set just for the dance floor, to the hallway long buffet table and all the drinks you can get your hands on. We want all our fine citizens to enjoy themselves, all throughout the Empire, we'll be counting it down to the big light show bring in the new year! It'll be a grand event as we look back on ten years of history with the Sith Empire and look forward to ten more. ​

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Locations:​

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1. Vestibule: Once your speeder has pulled through you'll be guided to the vestibule the crossroads of the party, small tables line the walls while others gather around and talk. If you need help getting around staff and signage will be of assistance to direct you to where you need to go.
   
   
2. Ballroom: Where all the action happens, tonight's DJ will be spinning some of the best in Synth-Pop from across the Empire. It's straight ahead from the entrance and through the vestibule, a set of double doors lead into the ballroom. Ambulatories with tables and small resting areas line the first floor, while the second-floor ambulatories lead to private lounge rooms.
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3. Observation Level & Balcony: If you ascend the vestibule stairs to the second floor you'll find a quieter area away from the crowds, have a smoke, a drink or head out to the balcony that oversees the gardens below.
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4. Dining Hall: Once in the vestibule and directly to your left, down a small hall to a set of double doors that lead you into the dining hall. An enormous buffet with dining rooms to spare on either side of the hall. Some of these dining rooms are private, reserved for special guests and those that have opened doors are of course, open to the public.
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5. Monarch Bar: If you instead turn to the right in the vestibule you'll find yourselves inside the Monarch Bar. A royal-themed bar with comfort and luxuries befitting of royalty. Drinks are on the house, appetizers will have to be purchased separately, and the second floor of the bar has been closed. Reserved for members of the Sith Imperial military, where celebrations of service will be held.
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6. Library: In the library, the Sith Empire has laid out a beautiful series of holographical displays to highlight their ten years. Take a tour, read through the texts and rediscover the History of the Sith Empire in all its glory. The library can be accessed by going downstairs from the vestibule, where it is the first door on the right in the main hall.
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7. Theater: Downstairs and the third door on the left, is a small make-shift theater set for those interested in watching a Sith-Imperial News Network produced docuseries on the Sith Empire which is to include key battles, conquests, and profiles on the 'Faces of the Empire.'​

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[BobertEZ]

Festivals and parties were never Lorale's forte. The amount of mingling and conversations required to make an impression and actually fully experience the festivities was daunting, even for the Lord of Conquest. More often than not, he would rather dominate and assimilate entire star systems and cultures than deal with the meanderings of his fellow Sith.

Thus, he often avoided them and managed to keep a low profile in the social levels of the Empire, choosing to have name merely be spread around through his exploits rather than handshakes and politics. Yet, this festival was not one he could avoid for it was the ringing in of a new year and a new decade, so be unfortunately had to attend and attend in his most fashionable attire.

Anyone in the Empire who was a name to be spoken about would be present in their best garb and on their best behavior, seeking to earn favors and complete favors as the new decade of destruction roared into existence. Dresses, suits, masks, jewelry, all of it would be on display as the Sith and Imperials rubbed shoulders in search of power to start the year off with.

The level of fashionability and "professional" mingling that would be present at this festival did not mean that he wasn't allowed to have a touch of his own style of fun, however. While his choice of attire was markedly noble for a Sith Lord, being a custom-tailored four-piece green suit with gold plating and his personal signet emblazoned on the left breast-pocket, his physical form was less so. Choosing to appear in his newly developed Noxian form, tall and muscular with black scales and white eyes bleached hair that ran down to the small of his back, the Metamorphosis King would appear at this festival more beast than anything else.

While said appearance was hidden by his vehicle of choice, the growl of his red speeder truck still added to the aura of intimidation he naturally produced, doubly so as he drove through the commons of Bastion en route to the grand hotel. It was a deep, guttural sound that echoed in the dense air of Ravelin as the turbolifts of the vehicle sped the Phoenix through the blocks at a surprisingly swift speed uncommon for speeder trucks, akin to that of Krayt Dragon's snore. Strangely, this was such a calming sound to Lorale who nearly fell asleep several times at the controls as he drove, only kept awake by passing speeders or his own willpower.

The hotel came into view before long, fortunately for the increasingly drowsy Sith Lord who swerved his vehicle in front of the hotel, whereafter it was taken away by a valet to be parked amongst the others. Already, a crowd had formed outside the hotel, some seeking to gain entrance despite holding no merit to do so and some simply waiting to meet with those to guide them inside.

Just don't kill anyone, and you will be fine, he thought to himself as he was eventually lead into the vestibule of the hotel. There, he was left alone to choose where he would first visit and thus likely remain for the evening to avoid the mingling he so dreaded until it was absolutely necessary. It only took a few moments of consideration and the arrival of more partygoers for the Phoenix to make his decision of heading to the Monarch Bar wherein he immediately purchased a tray of Constable's Caps and received his free glass of Merenzane Gold, his favored drink. Taking a seat at a free booth before the bar inevitably filled up by the night's end, Lorale ate his food and drank his drink in silence, watching as the guests began to arrive en masse and immediately start chattering at unbearable volumes. It's going to be a long night.

 

[Keva]

Whilst not personally find much purpose in these gatherings, Keva in her usual cold and calculating way could always find a use in them. They were a gateway into the elders of the Empire, an Empire which while she had readily bled for was not one she had served for long. She needed to reach out and find allies in high places: usual babble that one would expect from the crushing ambition that made a proper Sith. These dreams were quickly dashed, and the Sithling learned how much she absolutely abhorred crowds. Where once it had been the simple awkwardness of a language barrier that had kept her secluded and conversing with her own mind, in the Empire it had simply been the fact she learned the prim and posh upper echelons of "mortal" society within the Empire annoyed her to no end.

Ambition was fine when it was her own, the ambitions of others was pointless babble. And after some meager attempts at conversing and finding them more boring than trying to speak with a Battle Droid, Keva had consigned herself to the Observation Level and decided to use her own thoughts for company. The irony of Keva acting as though someone was boring is, as usual, lost on her.

In typical fashion, the Chiss made no attempts to be gaudy: without a military uniform to wear to these gatherings she had instead consigned herself to a plain suit that was "close enough" to her usual dress attire, and as per usual her face remained plain; the only accent to her features the twirling and jagged scars on the left side of her face. The art of sociability was not something Academy had taught her. But there were exceptions to these rules, as there always was when dealing with the Sithling. One Anden Fancelo had also been present for this decade-ent celebration, and unlike most within the Empire Keva actually had some sort of relationship with the man, something few could actually lay claim to: for whatever little that metaphorical trophy was worth.

When he came into view, he was given a brief acknowledgement by the Chiss. A slight nod of the head, and then that same head returned back to looking down in a old and battered datapad. That glowing hunk of junk being the thing she actually held some sort relationship to, not like she had much else to do. No smoking, no drinking, a code she had lived by strictly for all 18 years of her life: boring as it was.

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

Early, perhaps, but not so early that her visage did not cause a chorus of attention in her direction. Photos were taken and questions thrown at her. It was something of a rush, and nothing her upbringing had prepared her for. Yet, with the self-importance only Sith of royal blood could muster, Darth Vornskr the Second exited the speeder that had brought her, and made her way up the red carpet headed up the carpet for the New Year's event.

The cape that clung to her shoulders swept out behind her and trailed the ground as she walked. The high heels of her footwear clicked against the carpet and hard surface beneath, counting every step. The dress was simple, elegant, and cut to highlight her features. The scars she had collected in battle were on display; unabashed. From her neck and ears hung corusca gems, glinting like fire framed in gold. On her head, the Wreath of the Sovereign nestled into her black hair.

Behind her walked a Crownguard, clad in a dress robe, yet as watchful as ever.

She did not expect trouble, nor did she believe trouble could occur that she herself could not handle. However, this guardian had saved her life before, and so Joycelyn Zambrano had bestowed her the honour of trailing her even when danger was minimal.

Besides, someone would have to hold her things.

The venue was spectacular: The vestibule itself was like a cornucopia of conversations. Some of which were of interest to the Princess. However, not so interesting that she stopped for anything but a welcome drink.

 

[Arador Terrix]

While Terrix didn't typically bother himself with parties, and especially after the Fall of the First Order there was hardly ever a cause for one, this was a special occasion. It was only recently that he had joined the Sith Empire, and he had been given governorship over a sector of space and made the leader of the newly formed Prefsbelt Imperial Authority. So, Arador figured, he would allow himself this occasion. The Moff was dressed in an immaculate black triple-pleated uniform, complemented by a matching armorweave cape. His black-gloved hands gripped a lacquered ebon swaggerstick, and the knee-high leather boots he wore rounded out his appearance. On his left shoulder his uniform bore the cog of the First Order; on the right, that of the Sith Empire.

As he had not been a member of the Sith Empire for long, the faces around him were ones of complete strangers. Though he made nice and shook hands, introducing himself when asked, he mostly kept to himself as he entered the Grand Crown, a white-uniformed agent following him as a bodyguard. Terrix held no assumptions, though, he knew that many of the guests could kill him with their minds if not with their hands. Not that he would give them any reason to do so.

 

[Fiolette Fortan]

New Year's the one party where Fiolette let herself dress a little more casual than usual. It wasn't a hardcore must-be-in-uniform party, although she knew some would be more than ready to show off their uniforms. She arrived at the party in one of her speeders, she adjusted her blazer as she stepped out. She turned to extend her arm out for her wife Taeli Raaf . Photographers took their pictures, journalists both good and bad launched a myriad of questions their way but a smile and nod would be the most they'd get. The night was young and the party was just getting started.

The doors were opened and the vestibule was already buzzing with activity. The bar looked good and the military party itself wouldn't be starting straight away. Parties were never Taeli's thing that much Fiolette knew even if these days the woman felt more like a stranger than her wife. "I hear there's a library downstairs might be worth checking out, nice, quiet out of the way of the madness."

The sound of the bass-thumping could be felt even from here. "I am going to go enjoy the music if you entertain the notion of dancing you know how to find me." From there Fiolette untangled herself from Taeli and disappeared into the crowd as she headed for the double doors at the end of the vestibule. Once inside the music drowned any notion of voice or even thought, a floating tray of champagne came round and Fiolette grabbed one of the flutes. "Goodbye 859, hello 860."

She could see the DJ up on the stage in the back just as he flipped the track and a new song came on.

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[Cara Dorniarn]

A New Year's party? And she was invited? Terrible.

Cara grimaced when she received the news. Previously, she was able to ignore the invitation of get-togethers from the Empire. Who was she but some engineer playing Sith on the fringes of space, assembling scraps of clues to find what mattered most? She was a drifter, a space vagabond fixated with her own affairs. That way of life ended with an offer that would have been idiotic to refuse, and she now finds herself making an appearance as one of Darth Morrow's apprentices.

Breaking off from the flow of traffic she parks the speeder away from the entrance and cuts the engine. A moment passes and she resigns to her fate, pulling in a deep breath. A quiet voice pipes up from the passenger's seat, "You too, huh?" The young woman was an Alder-Espirion, clad in some Imperial uniform with a kepi cap pulled a bit too far over her eyes.

"Well," Her wearied voice continues, "good luck." The woman begins climbing out of the speeder, one boot still hung over the edge before she looks back in a hurry, "Oh and, thanks. For the ride. Yeah. Good luck, again." Her brow furrowed at her own awkwardness she pulls her leg over the speeder and marches away with head down.

"Good luck," the late response is uttered with a soft chuckle. Cara had seen the woman at the speeder rental, the young Imperial looking as lost as she in the capital city. Learning they were headed to the same location Cara offered her a ride; they shared zero words on the way, something which both parties appreciated greatly.

Headed now towards the vestibule Cara carefully dodges the nosey reporters and their god-forsaken cameras. In no way was she ready to have her face broadcasted by these cretins, not while having businesses whose success relied on her relative anonymity. She wasn't a known figure, yet, and that's just how she liked it for now. The arrival of those popular in the Empire distracted the cameras, allowing her to slip in unnoticed. She spies a set of stairs-- "Up and away from here. How long will this last, anyway?"

She beelines for the staircase to the Observatory, attempting to scale them without interruption.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

It had been quite a long time since the Emperor had entered the public spotlight after the injuries he had sustained on Mandalore, that time having been spent healing and recovering. But at his wive's insistence, he again appeared personally at another of the Empire's magnanimous galas. The Grand Hotel was littered with Imperials and Sith making merry, celebrating the coming of the new year and the tenth anniversary of the Sith Empire's establishment on Bastion.​

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Though not the first to join the festivities, the Emperor's hover-car was one of the earliest to arrive. Out emerged a multitude of finely dressed ladies, the Emperor's primary consorts and their assorted handmaidens, followed by the Emperor himself. Forgoing the more formal suit, the Emperor instead wore a comfortable black and red gi sashed at the waist with an open-front robe hung over his broad shoulders. His hood was pulled back, revealing his scarred features and the gothic black respirator that clung to his lower face. Eyes burning with ever-present hate smoldered in blackened eye sockets, surveying all that laid before him with such intense scrutiny that made all who fell beneath its gaze wither away.​

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With wives clinging to either arm, the Emperor of the Sith made his way towards the entrance of the hotel. Supplicants paid homage to him as he passed, falling to their knees or completely prostrating themselves in his presence. No doubt his official entrance to the party would cause a similar stir, as was his appearance anywhere was want to incur. ​

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Salara Zambrano | Invicta Zambrano | Darth Morrow ​

 

[Irankir’as]

Her orders had been simple enough; keep out of trouble.

How terribly easy it all sounded, though as the massive creature wound it's way up the internal stairwell, her focus was not on how best to follow that particular set of instructions - instead she had found herself drawn to the scent of fresh air that wafted down from the mezzanine above. The party itself was fine enough, the patrons all arriving en masse and starting to sort themselves between the bar and the dancefloor... But already the air was becoming stifling, and her ears twitched at the synth music that poured from the main ballroom and bathed all but a few choice corners of the main floor in sound.

A reprieve... Just a few moments of calm and cool - then she could return.

As the beast crested the stairs and spotted the wide french doors that promised the cool night air she'd been hunting for, it was all she could do to keep from sprinting towards them. It helped, she supposed, that her handler for the evening had chosen footwear that made exactly no sense to her what-so-ever. She'd seen several other attendees in something similar, these shoes that forced you up onto the balls of your feet and balanced your heel on tiny sticks... It was a wonder that any of these women managed it without a tail, honestly.

Stepping out onto the terrace, the crisp, fresh air swirling around the parts of her that the poorly-fitted black dress they'd given her for the event did not cover... She never lacked for gratitude when it came to the simple things. Taking a deep breath in through her nose, the Maelibus-hybrid made her way towards several low benches that lined the darkest parts of the balcony and seated herself upon on. The stone it was made of was almost chilly, and she settled against it happily.

The gentle and constant thump of the baseline in the ballroom below was still a constant, but it was dull enough here that it didn't bother her ears nearly as much.

Claw-like hands lowered to carefully capture the leathery tail that was flicking awkwardly against the bench beside her and instead lifted it to lay across her lap, neatly folding her palms across its length and finding a modicum of peace there. Unsure of how long she'd have her few moments of privacy, the creature took liberties, closing her eyes and relishing the cool night air.

 

[Kaalia Pavanos]

Ten years.

Kaalia remembered how it all began like it was yesterday. As a Knight of the Sith she was there when the foundation of today's empire was laid. Now, ten years later, the Sith Empire was growing stronger still. The woman was proud to have been there from its humble beginnings and as the empire had grown, so had she. From Knight to Lady to Triumvir, Kaalia had proven herself to be invaluable.

And today was a day to celebrate those ten years. In their speeder, Kaalia and Ishana Pavanos approached the hotel. Both had become highly regarded members of the empire in their own way and had much to look back on, both individually and as a couple. They had gone through highs and lows, but one thing that never changed was Kaalia's love for Ishana.

The couple were greeted as they stepped out of the speeder and while it was getting parked for them they made their way towards the vestibule. "It has been a while since we went to an event with just us two," Kaalia remarked as they walked inside. While previous times they had brought their children along, this time Ishana's parents looked after them.

 

[Malsifera]

Sith Dreams are made of this...​

The best gossip is available in parties such as these. It is common courtesy that someone keeps track of the used dance moves in today's ballroom so as to give other Sith the up-to-date gossip about the most juicy blunders and greatest, most daring movements. Things like 'Who's seeing who' or 'Who's back-stabbing who and in which ways?' or even 'who's the latest idiot who broke the loving hearts of the Triumvir' remain questions which are due an answer. Likewise, when someone takes the words, 'Hell hath no fury...', in their mouth, certain unnamed shadows need to step in and finish the sentence with a 'like a Sith scorned' before the difference in fury between the 'common woman' and the 'sith woman' is missed. And who better than your friendly neighbour Saaraishash Knight Inquisitor to do that? Right. They are everywhere. Even, if not especially, in parties such as these.​

Vestibule​

Duty. That was all there was to this party for (Darth) Malsifera, identified here as 'Allysari Welcrux' for the sake of everyone's festive morale. The Witch formerly of Dhatomir-now-Nal Hutta actually felt out of place in such formal-or-fun festivities. As if the very notion of fun for fun's sake was a blemish on the grandiose plans of the Sith Empire. So unless tonight's hired DJ somehow succeeded in pleasing everyone's earbuds without fault, there was a chance some Force Lightning or Force Choke was about to shake up the night. Ironically, the woman considered it her duty to maintain order in an already orderly Empire. And all that in the middle of the notoriously, most volatile Force users of the galaxy. Perhaps it was exactly the fact that Malsifera Allysari was not entirely committed towards the corruption of the Dark Side that would allow her to maintain an air of control about herself and others. Perhaps. For some reason, she strongly doubted that even though she didn't mind believing it herself.​

Stepping out of a taxi, Allysari looked regal in her simplicity. A long black dress, partial open on one side of her legs for ease of movement. A minimum on silvery glitters to give it something festive for this once-in-a-decade event. Over that, a simple black cloak to keep her warm until she was inside the hotel, covered only by her ashen white hair. For the occasion, she had been 'so kind' as to hide her Force alignment and presence, passing off as a non-Force Sensitive easily. Perhaps a minor noble of sorts, considering the lackeys addressed her as 'Lady Welcrux'. It'd probably not fool the most established Sith in the house, but as long as it fooled 99% of the current party-goers, she considered it a success.​

Monarch Bar​

Leaving her cloak at the vestibule, she'd allow the lackey to guide her - or rather, direct her - where the bar was. The Monarch Bar. The name alone unlocked a faint smile as she thought back at her time on Dhatomir. The Nightmother, a monarch. Once she had stepped inside the bar, grey eyes took in the scenery. Its royal presence. The private section reserved for Sith Imperial military; the place where she wouldn't be found considering she liked to maintain the idea she was not of the Saaraishash, or a Sith for that matter. Instead, she'd walk over to the bar and request a cocktail for herself before she took place in an empty seat. Sighing softly as she let off the pent up stress of years of duty?​

 

[Telis Taharin-Zambrano]

VESTIBULE

Amongst the other finely-dressed Sith and Sith-Imperials that attended the great gala was the Coruscant capitalist, dressed to the nines in his general choice of garb, consisting of trimmed, gold-thread finery, which clung tightly to his body beneath the longer, darker black robe, emblazoned with a red-set sunburst pin over the breast. The entirety of his body up to his neck was traced with red glowing lines like vines, images of gold thorns displayed over the briars which matched his luminescent eyes. Overall, he looked quite at home amongst the highlife and revelry that was occurring, though in truth, the only reason he had come to the party was because Kascalion, his mentor, “subtly” nudged him towards going. So, when the hovercars began to pull up towards the hotel, so too did the chauffeur that he had hired for the occasion. Stepping past the crowds, he tried to get inside as swiftly as possible, avoiding the paparazzi with their cameras and their inability to keep media to themselves (of course, him being him, he couldn’t help but give at least one smile for the crowd).

Stepping into the hotel, Telis couldn’t help but be awed by the grandness of the structure. Sure, the building outside looked immense, but he wasn’t entirely expecting something so elaborate, though of course the Emperor was in attendance, but it was still a marvel of a building. He instantly felt right at home amongst the lavish vestibule and its lavish serving-staff, his hands behind his back as he slowly crossed through, passing and overhearing slight gossip from other attendees, but not paying them much mind - he had a goal, and that was to hopefully get to the Ballroom before the excitement died off.

BALLROOM

Which is where he found himself now, listening to the more upbeat music and the more-than-common play on words of the “Synth Empire.” He couldn’t help but be in good humor despite his reluctance of wanting to go - after all, parties of this scale were one of his favorite atmospheres, and he couldn’t turned down good music and good drink. As he mingled with the crowd, he kept up his formality and seriousness, but he loosened up the entire time, falling into the sway of the party. The past few months had been more than busy with new apprenticeships and new partnerships - he definitely believed he deserved to have at least a few hours to simply relax and enjoy himself, especially with how good he looked.

He stayed closer towards his own table, away from the dance floor while watching perhaps some other members of the Brotherhood or aristocrats taking the floor and dancing to the music. He didn’t consider himself much of a dancer, but he always enjoyed watching others hit the floor and fall into rhythm with a groove, like cogs in a machine. In his hand he held a glass filled with some form of sweet, exotic champagne, sipping it every now and then, and raising it in cheers when he saw somebody he recognized. He doubted he would meet many new faces while at the gala, but the night was (hopefully) still young, and he had a lot more he could do.

 

[Valessia Brentioch]

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Valessia smiled for the press and stopped to take photos but did not answer any questions that may have been fielded her way. Wearing a beautiful black gown the Sith Lady took in the opulence of the hotel it made her miss the old days when she was the one hosting these parties. At least now she could just enjoy them if only a little bit more than before. "Thank you," she greeted the waiter while taking a flute of champagne from the tray. The Brentaalan thought about moving right into the ballroom but recalled that she was meeting her daughter and instead moved toward one of the small tables in the vestibule. The night was young and people were still arriving, entertainment and political analysts and journalists were out in full force. ​

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The bass of the music vibrated beyond the walls of the ballroom. People were cheering hoping for another ten years of the Sith Empire. It was after all an achievement in an era of instability where nations rose and fall faster than the maps could keep up with. Allegiances changed one hand to another and yet there would always be another crop of Imperials, another fleet of wedged-shaped ships and the industrial war-machine of the galaxy kept on churning.​

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Taking another sip of champagne Valessia now waited for her daughter, Alessandra Creed .​

 

[Ishana Pavanos]

"I know." Ishana replied and she couldn't help but smirk, "just the two of us."​

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A night on their own, no children in sight it was truly a New Years' miracle she thought to herself just as they entered the hotel. It was already crowded. "Right so food, booze, dancing, where do we go?" On the one hand booze, but food first to help soak up the booze but then there was also dancing. She sidestepped to keep out of the way, Ishana guided Kaalia as she navigated the crowd. ​

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"Or maybe we can just sit and wait until everyone's like done doing the stopping and talking in the middle of the hall." She took the opportunity to sit up at the raised table along the wall. The music could be heard and it sounded just fine, but the question of food or booze was still there to be answered. Appetizer trays floated by and Ishana plucked a few of the blue shrimp cocktails from it. "So good," she said in between bites, "so good." The Air Marshal decided on going to the party in uniform, mostly because Kaalia liked it so much. But also so she wouldn't get any funny looks for the military party later in the night. ​

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Kaalia Pavanos ​

 

[Talger Gilham]

It had been quite some time since Talger had journeyed to one of the Empire's famous galas, he'd been so absorbed in his work with the Imperial Mission (and partially disenfranchised after his wife divorced him) that he hadn't found the time to go. Fortunately, this time he had something of a reason, an entirely selfish one. Wearing his resplendent finest, Talger Gilham arrived at the party entrance in the latest and greatest line of hovercars that money could afford. Accompanying him were two of his most eye-pleasing slaves; a Mirialan woman who had previously been a freedom fighter in the League of Voss before being broken by the Empire's slavers, and a Pantoran woman who had likewise resisted the Empire when they assaulted her homeworld.​

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Talger had paid good money for them both, rigorously testing the limits of their conditioning to ensure that they would not kill him in his sleep. So far they hadn't, which satisfied the Colonel enough to bring them along. Just to be safe, both slaves had electro-collars firmly tightened around their slender necks. The controller for both devices was built into the wrist-communicator on Talger's left arm, easily within reach should either of them act up. But as long as they were good and courteous slaves, they would suffer no consequences. Talger wasn't a brute, after all.​

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Passing through the doorway, Talger and his slaves paid their niceties to familiar faces and those unknown, paying each high-ranking Imperial their lip-service while receiving his own in turn. It wasn't until he spied Valessia Brentioch from a distance that Talger's heart quickened, a thin bead of sweat gathering on his brow. He bade one of his slaves wipe it away, and, after that, he double-checked his presentability and made his way towards the Sith Lady he had met on Stygeon Prime.​

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"Magnanimous greetings, my Lady. You look positively ravishing this evening."​

Valessia Brentioch ​

 

[Taeli Raaf]

As part of her bid to begin repairing their relationship, Taeli had acquiesced to Fiolette's desire to arrive at the 860 celebration in one of her custom old fashioned speeders. A classic apparently, according to her wife, and Taeli could somewhat admire its sleek design. While her wife had gone with a less formal style of dress for the event, Taeli as a high ranking Sith Lady just… could not bring herself to dress down for an occasion. She certainly hadn't heard any complaints from her wife on her current attire.

The speeder pulled up to the hotel that was playing host to the event, looking all the world more like a holofilm red carpet gala with the reporters and such all around than a gathering of the most influential Sith-Imperials in the Empire to bring in the new year. Smiling, she took the offered arm and emerged from the speeder.

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Not responding to the shouted questions, especially those about their two daughters, she was perfectly content to be led arm in arm to the venue's main hall. The music could be heard even from here and... it was utterly and completely complexing to the Lady of Secrets. Parties just were not her thing, never had been even when she was bright eyed and innocent college girl.

"That sounds like something we could do later," she responded when Fiolette mentioned the library downstairs, putting particular emphasis on the we part. As for her inclination to dance...

"I'll perhaps join you on the dance floor in a little bit, I'm honestly famished and the buffet smells divine," she admitted, although she was not sure how anyone could hope to dance to the current music playing. Synth-pop had been popular when both sets of her parents were children. She watched her wife disappear into the ballroom, a pang racing through her. Baby steps, she told herself, baby steps. One couldn't fix everything instantaneously.

Fiolette Raaf

 

[Fiolette Fortan]

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Food was great, sure but Fiolette was in a mood to lose herself. Champagne and music, the kind of music she listened to when she was a teenager and so she danced. Moving her shoulders from side to side, she found a young man to dance with or at least was interested in dancing with her. So she obliged, he offered his hand and she took it and the two danced as the music changed and a new track came on. Floating trays of champagne faded and appetizers appeared it was the only time she broke herself away. ​

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When she returned the young man had faded but the music kept going and thus so would she. Fiolette hadn't thought much about what Taeli had said when she said we. In fact, it was out of her mind as the alcohol began to work its way into her mind. Numbing away thoughts heavier than the immediate, she moved to the beat and noticed the Pavanos walk through the door. It may have been then that she felt something - pain, maybe but it was gone the moment she grabbed another flute of champagne. ​

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Taeli Raaf ​

 

[Kaalia Pavanos]

While Ishana pondered on where to go first, Kaalia wasn't very much bothered with figuring that out. Getting to spend the night together with her wife was enough for her to be content with, what they were doing was less important. Of course, an event such as this was always enjoyable, but any of the options mentioned by Ishana were equally good as far as she was concerned. The food was no doubt brilliant, she loved dancing, and even though the Force wouldn't allow her the alcohol to affect her, she rarely passed up on a good drink. But most importantly, whatever she would do, it was together with the most important person in her life.

Losing Ishana was an experience that had left its marks on Kaalia, but also taught her that nothing was to be taken for granted. She had her wife back by her side now, but neither knew when their last day together would be. Even more so now would the redhead to take any and all opportunities to be with her wife instead of anywhere else in the galaxy.

Following the Balmorran's example Kaalia took one of the appetizers, studying it for a short moment before biting a small portion off it. She nodded in approval as she tasted it and she wasted little time biting down on the remaining bit of shrimp she still had in her hand. "You're right, that is delicious." She now regretted not taking another before the tray disappeared into the crowd again.

"I'm happy with whatever you want to do first," Kaalia then noted. "After you."

Ishana Pavanos ​