Populate Where the Light Gathers | THR Populate of Siskeen

[Meri Vale]

Meri's shoulders lifted in a small, almost self-conscious shrug, one hand briefly tightening around the fabric at her side before she tucked it back into her pocket.

"I…don't really know anyone else here," she admitted quietly, a faint, shy smile touching her lips. "So…yes. When I saw you across the room, I thought I probably should come over before I lost my nerve."

She glanced toward the crowd for a moment, then back to him, studying his face a little more closely now that she wasn't focused on just surviving the room.

"And you did look a little…unattended," she added softly, trying for lightness. "In a tragic sort of way."

The smile lingered, but it softened quickly into something more thoughtful.

"What happened?" Meri asked gently. "You don't seem…okay."

Elian Abrantes

 

[Alina Grayson]

Alina caught Aiden's gaze across the ballroom and held it for a moment longer than simple familiarity might warrant. His smile quiet, real reached her before his nod did, and she returned it with a warmth that lit gently behind her eyes. The crowd moved around them like water, but she stood still in that glance, letting the moment stretch.

She turned to Lira with a conspiratorial smile and leaned down slightly, her voice low but playful. "I think he misses us already."

Lira lit up at that, practically bouncing on her heels.

"Well then," Alina said softly, offering her free hand to the girl, "We should probably go rescue him."

With a soft laugh, the two of them crossed the room Alina with composed grace, Lira with barely-contained delight. Alina didn't rush; she let Lira lead just enough to make her feel like it was her idea. As they approached, the din of the ballroom dulled beneath the quiet joy that lingered between the three of them.

Alina's steps slowed as they neared, her gaze flicking up to Aiden. "We brought snacks," she said lightly, nodding toward the plate in Lira's hands. "Though I can't promise she'll share."

There was something grounded in her tone, something steady in the way she stood beside him not as a guest or a curiosity, but as someone who belonged.

TAG: Aiden Porte

 

[Aiden Porte]

Alina Grayson​

Aiden's expression softened as they came to a stop in front of him, affection plain in the way his attention settled fully on the two of them. He knelt smoothly so he was eye level with Lira, his voice dropping into a teasing warmth she knew well.

"Are you sure that is enough?" he asked, eyes flicking toward the plate with mock concern.

Lira giggled and turned her body slightly, trying to hide the sweets from him. "Of course it is," she said proudly. "I am a growing girl. I need my sweets."

Aiden laughed, the sound easy and unguarded. He rose and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, lingering just long enough to make her smile even wider.

When he straightened, he didn't realized how close he now was standing next to Alina. Close enough that he could feel the quiet steadiness of her presence. He smiled, leaning in just a little.

"I am assuming this is your influence?" he whispered, the teasing tone was something, unmistakably him.

Warm, genuine, sweet...

 

[Dominique Vexx]

Grand Naboo Ballroom
Theed, Naboo
Objective II
Evening

Dominique smiled as Quinn excused herself. "As diplomatic as ever," she remarked after the woman had passed ownership of the conversation off to her Ambassador. Obviously, the Chancellor meant what she'd said in only the most gracious and uplifting of ways; and it wasn't at all a subtle, undercutting remark at how transparent the move had been. Offer a woman a chance for influence, and she turned her nose up at you. Strange considering her background. Just what was it Aether had promised the woman?

"Well, I appreciate your sentiment, Ambassador. More importantly, I look forward to our two worlds -- and interstellar governments -- finding common ground in which to build a thriving relationship. I don't want to talk your ear off tonight and deprive you of any opportunities. Can I count on discussing more at a later time? Who we are. What we seek. To form a foundation for long-term engagement?"

Or perhaps the man might insist they speak more now. Dominique was curious if Eshan had an interest in outreach. One that went beyond its Queen's disinterest. It would be a shame not to find someone to make inroads and demonstrate the Republic's commitment for the Mand'alor to see, but Dominique never made plans that relied on a single lynch pin.

If he wasn't interested, Emilia Locke was nearby. Graceful woman, kind enough not to abandon the Chancellor so readily. Obviously, Dominique would need to get the woman something for her patience and long-suffering. Sometimes a gift was just a gift.

As for the brief exchange regarding the Jedi, well, there wasn't much for Dominique to say as Mykel passed. True, the New Jedi Order had been a thorn in her side, but she hadn't taken it personally. If anything, the sacrifice of their number made at the battles called to account was lamentable. Such a waste of talent.

Feridade Parthi | Quinn Varanin | Emilia Locke | Colette | Mykel Dawson
Indirect: Ivalyn Yvarro | Adelle Bastiel | Renn Vizsla​

 

[Alina Grayson]

Alina’s brows lifted in mock offense, her eyes wide with exaggerated innocence. She angled her head just slightly toward Aiden, her expression the picture of composure.

“My influence?” she repeated in a soft, scandalized whisper, as though the very idea were unthinkable. “You wound me, Aiden.”

She gave a faint shake of her head, golden hair shifting slightly with the motion, catching the low light of the room. Her hand remained gently at Lira’s back, a steadying presence more than anything else, but her posture relaxed into something warm and conspiratorial as she leaned a touch closer to him just enough to match his tone.

“I would never corrupt a child with chocolate and mischief,” she said under her breath, lips curving into a subtle smile. “That sounds far too calculated for someone like me.”

Her gaze held his for a moment amusement flickering in the azure depths of her eyes, before she shifted her attention briefly to Lira who was still shielding her precious sweets like a treasure hoard and then back again.

“Besides,” she added, dropping her voice just a little more, “I simply… offered guidance. A little tactical advice, if you will.”

A delicate shrug of her shoulders completed the act elegant, amused, and entirely unrepentant. Her smile lingered, soft at the corners, as if to say what could you possibly be accusing me of?

TAG: Aiden Porte

 

[Ulysses Renoux]

H O U S E • R E N O U X​

Wearing: xxx
Tag: Sibylla Abrantes | Aurelian Veruna

Ulysses did not answer immediately.

The garden path beyond the doors curved away from the noise of the ballroom. Lanternlight caught on pale stone and reflected softly across the water beyond the hedges. He slowed to match her pace and let the distance from the hall settle around them. Only when the music faded into something distant did he speak.

“Jaemus is behind me,” he said at last.

The words carried weight without bitterness.

“It was a noble world. Feudal in practice even when it pretended otherwise. Houses bound by oath and expectation. Our industry was war, and we never pretended to be gentle about it.”

He let a quiet breath pass before continuing.

“The Galactic Empire pressed from one side. The Diarchy from another. The Imperial Confederation made the region impossible to hold together. Trade collapsed, alliances fractured, and remaining would have meant sacrificing my people to a war that no longer belonged to us. I chose to leave before Jaemus became a grave rather than a legacy.”

There was no apology in his voice, and no pride. Only fact.

“I am looking toward the High Republic now,” Ulysses continued. “A place stable enough to build again without asking my House to bleed for every kilometer of ground. I am still deciding where that foundation will be. A home base, if you prefer a simpler term.”

The gardens opened wider ahead of them, and the air felt cooler without the press of the hall.

“Naboo is different from the worlds I have known,” he said, a faint note of dry humor touching the edge of his voice. “Your people understand elegance as a strength. Jaemus respected strength, but rarely elegance.”

When she asked how Naboo or the Great Houses might assist, he inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment.

“I am not here to claim favors. Not yet. I am here to understand where I stand and whether the Republic intends to remain what it claims to be. If Naboo chooses to walk beside my House one day, I would welcome that conversation. For now, I prefer to listen and learn what your world truly values.”

He let the silence between them remain comfortable rather than empty.

“And you?” Ulysses asked after a moment. “Does fresh air make the game easier to bear, or simply more honest?”

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Bastila Sal-Soren //:

It was easy to forget that after this moment, after this dance, they both returned to their respective sides. Bastila, a Jedi, and Quinn, a Sith. Even without titles to further separate them, they were enemies. But that didn't stop Quinn from enjoying this or from seeking Bastila out when she could.

They moved through the dance, a reminder that both were taught these lessons. Even as a Sith, Quinn was taught and trained to be a diplomat, something her parents and peers often failed at. Most Sith gained through outright power, but for Quinn, there was more. Still, she hated the push and pull of what she wanted and what everyone else wanted from or for her.

It's why Quinn couldn't help smiling, hearing Bastila honor the small request. She just wanted to be Quinn — even if it was only for this dance, with the young Sal-Soren. The princess reveled in the closeness allowed alongside the banter.

She couldn't help but laugh when the woman mentioned Aurelian. Quinn had met the man, though she did wish it had been under different circumstances. Moreover, she still felt guilty about how things had gone for Weilu.

Bastila seemed at ease; her touch on Quinn's shoulder felt reassuring to that point. It was an incredible feeling, one that Quinn had hoped wouldn't end, but she could feel it — see it on Bastila's face. Reality began to creep into their small bubble of bliss… perhaps it was a bit of hopeful ignorance.

Quinn was quiet, letting Bastila's words linger in her mind. She knew this wasn't one of her brightest plans, but she was here as the Eshan Queen, not the Sith Princess, not the Heir to the Empire. Even if she could, there was no erasing the other titles, the other lives that she had to live. They would always be with her, even if she ran or tried to be someone else.

The things Bastila spoke of, the dangers and how those that she called friends would circle Quinn like vultures, were problems she didn't want to think of. Quinn wished to remain ignorant in this matter, but she couldn't.

At the end of it all, her protection from Mandalore as a Queen of one of its worlds could only keep the vultures at bay for so long. She stayed close, silently listening and thinking of these interferences. All she wanted was to dance and be near the most beautiful woman in the room.

"Mm, I know," Quinn responded, remaining close to Bastila as she did. If this was to be their first and last dance… at least she was going to enjoy it. She hoped it wouldn't be their last, but the first of many. With the agreements between the Mandalorian Empire and the High Republic, she could find herself appearing more often.

Bastila was worth the den of snakes.

"It's unavoidable really, my position puts me in their grasp — so I might as well enjoy what I can."

Quinn smiled, her eyes flickering towards Bastila, the emerald hue watching carefully the way Bastila looked at her. Hearing that she didn't want Quinn in danger meant the world to the Echani. Her words matched the delicate touch, something that only drew the woman in.

"I appreciate the worry," Quinn smiled softly, her gaze falling slightly, watching the bow of Bastila's lips. "But, I feel guilty," she chuckled softly.

"While you've been worried about my safety, all that's been on my mind is what it would be like to kiss you…"

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Objective II - The Grand Ballroom
Interacting with: Ulysses Renoux
Indirectly: Aurelian Veruna Adelle Bastiel

Sibylla slowed near the fountain, the quiet burble of water softening the garden's hush. She drew in a breath of cool air, letting it ease the warmth in her cheeks. It helped, if only a little, yet her thoughts still betrayed her, drifting back to Aurelian and that infuriatingly deliberate smile aimed at another woman. Not because she doubted him -- she trusted him fully -- but because he was being a brazen fool on purpose, poking simply to see how she would react.

Oh just wait, she would think of a suitable payback in time.

For now, Sibylla exhaled and turned her attention back where it belonged, offering the Duke a small, composed smile.

"The brisk air does do wonders for clearing the mind," she replied lightly, and honestly, settling into her role as Voice of Naboo, for his words about Janarus and the pressures of the Diarchy and the Empire had not gone unnoticed. To uproot a House to save its people before a world became a graveyard was no small decision, and it earned her respect.

"The galaxy is facing war on a scale few can ignore," she continued quietly with thoughtful and understanding musing belying her age, "Millions displaced and thousands of worlds affected -- the Republic has seen more refugees at our borders every day and we are doing what we can with the resources we have."

Hazel orbs turned to look up at Duke Renoux, with the sort of expression of one who had learned the lesson at a bloody price.

"It is only when people unite that such burdens become manageable. My role is to help bridge that dialogue -- between Naboo, the Republic, and the Great Houses."

Another faint smile followed.

"So yes, Naboo does value elegance, but also unity and resolve. There will always be wolves at the gate, and some may already be among us within the shadows... I have come to learn that a soft word must be balanced with a firm hand."

She met his gaze, pragmatic and sincere.

"So tell me, Your Grace, what does House Renoux hold its interests in? I understand that you wish no handouts, but perhaps there are connections I may assist with on your behalf."

Networking, after all, meant that the Duke could handle his own affairs at his own time and method, but at least know who would be best to approach with Sibylla's guidance.

 

[Vulpesen]

Vulpesen's feet moved to glide him across the floor, his eyes darting only occasionally from Ra to remain aware of the room around them. "He's a man of eminent patience to be sure. Though perhaps, I simply needed the proper motivation." Her words inspired a confidence in him that allowed the Valde to continue their dance, his arm even lifting to guide her into a gentle spin before recapturing her.

In truth, it was more than Lucas who had appeared to have a vested interest in these functions. Certainly the excelsus had mentioned some credibility issues as Vulpesen was stepping into a role meant for the head of diplomacy, but perhaps with a relative peace since leaving the Alliance, Vulpesenw as finding his officials and family far more interested in his personal time. Upon hearing of the gathering and who he'd been attending with, Vulpesen's daughter, Daella had practically thrown the excelsus into the role of impromptu dance teacher and locked her father into the studio until he could do a dance that didn't involve weaponry. "I should hope so," Vulpesen responded to Ra'amah's praise. "There were parties who were fairly insistent on my practice. You, however, are an absolute natural."

Ra'a'mah

 

[Aiden Porte]

Alina Grayson​

Aiden narrowed his eyes at Alina in playful accusation, the corner of his mouth tugging upward despite himself. He did not want to admit how easily she captivated him. He did not want to acknowledge the way his heart beat a little faster when she leaned in. And he absolutely refused to examine the very real impulse to close the distance between them entirely.

He took a slow breath, grounding himself in the present.

"I suppose we can just blame the chocolate then," Aiden said lightly, his teasing tone returning to safer ground. "It does tend to make us act a bit silly at times. I can forgive that." His gaze lingered on her just a fraction longer before he added, warmly, "And I cannot argue with guidance or advice. Especially when it comes from you."

He knelt again, bringing himself back down to Lira's level, his expression softening into exaggerated pleading. "Can I please have one?" he asked, almost pouting.

Lira giggled, laughter bubbling out of her with pure delight. "Of course you can, Dad," she said happily, eyes sparkling. In that moment, all the fear and loss she had carried seemed far away. She reached carefully for the sweets. "Here you go. And one for Alina too."

She placed two chocolates into Aiden's hand with great ceremony.

Aiden stood and opened his palm, holding the treats out toward Alina, amusement and warmth clear in his eyes. "Your pick?" he asked gently.

 

[Davik Haize]

OBJ. III
Casaana

Davik figured it was best not to prod further. Everyone carried some weight, some pain on their shoulders. Even Jedi. He'd learned it was best to let people share it when they were ready. Just give them time. He doubted he'd see Casaana again, let alone spend enough time with her, but you never know. It's a small galaxy. Somehow, he'd ended up with her in the middle of some noble procession, and turned out she was the right person at the right time to fill the blanks of his mind.

He snapped the scomp-link in place, right in the leg. Just like she wanted it. There was a smile on his face when he pulled out a card with comlink deets, and rose from his seat, saying, "Whenever you hit the stars -- on a freighter or a skyhopper -- you can ping me on this line if you're in trouble. It's on a secure HoloNet thread, can't be scrambled."

Now heading for the way out, Davik was no longer wondering if Casaana was real or not. He stopped midway, hands in his pockets, and half-turned around, said, "Hey, thanks," and drifted away.​

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Objective II - The Grand Ballroom
Tags: Renn Vizsla | Colette || Indirect: Aurelian Veruna

Vizsla caught her hand as she took a step away from the bar, leaning in with an aura of mischief. Adelle’s eyebrows twitched upward. She’d had two informal interactions with the Warden of Roon, but usually saw him in official capacities when she was brought in as an advisor. This was a side of him she hadn’t really seen before. He released her hand and straightened, offering his arm, even as a feminine voice spoke up behind her.

"Hey," she said and swallowed the worst of her nerves. "I overheard what you said about a dance?"

Adelle turned to look at the speaker—a young woman she still had to tilt her head up to look at, even in heels. Her attire was very informal but it reminded Adelle a lot of Na’an and her comfort in this kind of environment.

"I don't usually do this, but I'd be willing — if you are."

Nervous, self-conscious, but buried beneath a shield of nonchalance. And judging by her words, asking someone like this either didn’t come naturally to her or she hadn’t done it enough. Kriff. Their requests to dance came at very nearly the same time. She’d have said she was caught between a Nexu and an Acklay but the comparison would be uncharitable to both of them.

Adelle held up a finger to Vizsla, silently asking for a moment to resolve this. She turned fully to the young woman. Whills, she was young.

“Thank you,” Adelle said, trying to find her usual ground. She didn’t want to let the last ten minutes color her words. “If you’d be kind enough to wait, it would be my pleasure to dance with you. But I understand if you’d rather not. These events can be a bit much.”

She hoped the young woman would stick around—it’d be a nice change of pace to dance and talk with someone new, someone that didn’t wear power or authority like clothes. And she reminded Adelle of Na’an, albeit a much younger version. Adelle turned and took Vizsla’s offered arm as he led them onto the dancefloor with more confidence than she had expected.

He was the envoy to the Republic though, so maybe she shouldn’t have been all that surprised.

“I’m going to have to talk with my alor about teaching dance lessons,” she said, holding on to the numbing burn the Whyren’s Reserve had given to overpower her earlier irritation. She was starting to feel balanced again. “Can’t have Clan Vizsla outclassing Skirata.”

 

[Elian Abrantes]

Meri Vale Phillip Slate Isla Reingard Voli Cholrass
​

He let the word unattended sit between them, and a soft laugh escaped him, brief and almost grateful.

"Tragic," Elian repeated, as if testing the label. "That is generous. I was aiming for mysterious."

Elian lifted one eyebrow, the motion small but practiced, as if curiosity could pass for calm if he wore it correctly. He kept his posture loose on the stool, one arm resting against the marble, the other curled around the glass of whiskey.

"Why would I not be okay?" he asked, genuinely curious in tone, but careful with it too.

The amber liquid caught lantern light when he tipped the glass slightly, not drinking yet, just letting the scent rise like a shield. His mouth pulled into a faint smirk, the familiar one that usually ended questions before they got teeth.

"I'm fine," Elian said, and it sounded like the same line he had used a hundred times. "I'm just doing what I always do."

Then he took a slow sip of whiskey, deliberate and unhurried, as if that settled the matter.

 

[Fallon Draellix-Kobitana]

Location: Naboo gala
Objective: OBJECTIVE 3
Loadout: here
Tags: Cynan Obaith


Wearing this

The pink haired Lujoan didn't need to be asked twice, she barely needed to be asked once. She smiled, turned slightly and offered him the crook of her arm to lead him out of the hall and along the way. They could always come back and do more diplomacy later, she lied to herself. And this definitely counted as diplomacy anyway, he was a wealthy humanitarian noble who she was certain would fit in well with her foundation.

They didnt talk much as they walked. Fallon would pay attention to the fact that as an up and coming diplomat there was a level of decorum that needed to be observed by him. They even exchanged pleasantries with another pair of diplomats that were out catching the air. In public Fallon was the very definition of proper. Once the door closed, all bets were off.

 

[Aileni Ifor Xeraic]

Objective: BYOO - Teen Chaos!
Outfit: Suit
Tag: Pari Sylune

"Erm...Yeah...glad you agree." Aileni was surprised how much Pari could just stun him and block any attempts he made to be suave. It was something that drew him in more. If he could charm Pari, or make her blush, then he was likely to be able to charm anyone. Surely. But it wasn't just the challenge, the blunt force honesty, it was helpful.

If he ever crossed a line or said something she did not like then he would know instantly. Something he was sure he would need over the years.

Holding Pari's hands after she completed the twirl, "you...that was all you and you...you looked amazing doing it. Better than anyone else here." Aileni grinned still looking a little goofy. It was clear that the young teen did not smile too often.

"Lead the way! Your turn to suggest what we do next." Aileni mentioned, he had suggested the dancing so it was only fair that Pari selected what they did next.

 

[Meri Vale]

Meri didn't answer right away.

She shifted her weight slightly, fingers tracing the faint line where marble met metal at the edge of the counter, grounding herself the way she always did when she wasn't sure how much of her heart it was safe to show.

"I…I might be interested in reading ruins," she said quietly at last, a shy, uneven smile touching her lips, "and old maps, and broken temples, and things most people don't notice anymore…"

She glanced up at him, then back down again.

"But you're my friend," she continued, voice softer now. "And I think I can read you just as easily."

Her hands folded together in front of her, knuckles brushing.

"You're…one of the few people I can," she admitted, almost whispering it.

The words felt heavier than she expected. Saying them out loud made them real.

She looked away quickly after that, embarrassed by her own honesty, turning toward the bar as if suddenly very interested in anything else.

"Um…could I have some water, please?" she asked gently.

When she turned back, her expression was calmer, but her eyes still held that quiet concern.

"I just…" Meri hesitated, then went on. "If there wasn't something wrong, I don't think you'd be drinking whiskey."

Her gaze flicked briefly to his glass before lifting to meet his again.

There was no accusation in it. No demand.

Just care.

Especially at our ages, she thought, but kept it to herself.

Instead, she stayed where she was, close enough to show she wasn't going anywhere, quiet enough to let him choose if he wanted to speak, her presence steady and patient in the middle of the noise and light around them.

Elian Abrantes Phillip Slate Isla Reingard Voli Cholrass

 

[Renn Vizsla]

G U I D E

Tag: Adelle Bastiel | Colette




Renn felt the interruption before he fully registered the voice.

He turned his head slightly, eyes cutting toward the newcomer first, taking her measure in a single, practiced glance, then back to Adelle as she raised a finger to him. He paused without comment, arm still offered, posture relaxed and unthreatened. There was no irritation in it. No possessiveness.

Just patience.

When Adelle addressed the young woman and extended the offer with her usual composure, Renn watched closely. Not the words, but the intent beneath them. The careful kindness. The way she gave the other woman an out without diminishing her.

He approved.

As Adelle finally took his arm, Renn inclined his head once to Colette in acknowledgment, polite and unmistakably final. Then, rather than pulling Adelle deeper into the dancefloor, he changed course, guiding her instead in a smooth arc back toward where Colette stood.

“Actually,” Renn said, voice warm, carrying easily over the music, “I think that works out better.”

He stopped just short of the floor, turned, and gently took Adelle’s hand again, this time not to keep her, but to reposition her. His grip was steady, practiced, and careful not to crowd. Then he placed her hand into Colette’s with an ease that suggested he’d done far more difficult things than this.

“You two should dance,” he said simply. “There will be plenty more events for us to step on each other’s toes.”

A smile stayed on his face as he spoke, easy, disarming, ambassadorial. The kind meant for chandeliers and watching eyes.

But his eyes… his eyes told a quieter story.

For just a heartbeat, as he looked between Adelle and Colette, something sharper glinted there. Not jealousy, nor anger.

Protection.

Assessment.

The reflex of a man who had spent his life reading rooms for threats and exits, even when the music was loud and the lights were warm.

Then it was gone.

The walls slid back into place, smooth and practiced, emotions locked down behind years of discipline. Whatever had flickered there vanished beneath the familiar calm of Renn Vizsla, envoy, warmaster, Mandalorian.

He stepped back, offering a small bow, half formal, half teasing, toward Adelle.

“And for the record,” he added dryly, “Skirata’s reputation remains intact. I’ve just had more practice navigating hostile environments.”

With that, Renn gave them space, already turning his attention back to the broader ballroom, another battlefield calling, while the music swelled and the dance began without him.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

​

Vytal regarded the tall and imposing woman. "A little grin, then. To smile. But these are soft creatures and your teeth makes them think foolish thoughts." Dima wanted to 'fit in' with the galactic community, so the Witch sought to help her. Sadly it would require 'toning down' some of her natural inclinations when around less understanding creatures. "Do not worry over much of it, only be aware to attract the right attention." But not toned down too much. Far too few of them were worth the mighty woman feigning meekness, which they would take as servitude.

"Dima, do not try to be normal. Be yourself. But understand they may not of your mannerisms. You will still feel that divide between you and them when they shy away; but then in time you will find those that overcome their doubts and come to know you as I do." Normalcy was a disease. People often meant 'like me' when they spoke of normal. As a woman from Dathomir whose pale skin and deep tattoos stood out boldly in any crowd, Vytal knew just how deep the chasm could be at times. "And do not change just to appease them. Tis nothing wrong with you." To say nothing of how they would not recognize such effort or find her any more 'tolerable' for it. There were those Dima would find as friends. In time.

"You do not need to know any from here to visit," she added at last with a smile for her companion's sake. "And if you did, you know me and I will curse any guard that tries to bar you."

Two nods followed Dima's observation about the dangers around them now. "I do not like politics," the Witch grunted. "The blades are in their smiles, eager to plunge into you, body or soul. A people with the ability to command others to do their work. Those oft far from the front lines, hardly troubled by the horrors of the wars they oversee." Not that Vytal had any grievance with the High Republic in particular. A general statement of why she despised politics. There were always exceptions -- some of them might actually fight, as so many in charge of the Confederacy once had.

A soft exhale followed before Vytal reached over to take one of Dima's claws in her hand. "I would not mind if you grinned this night, Dima. These people do not celebrate about a fire as we, but you deserve to bask in this moment." The emerald eyes of the Witch peered up at the fierce visage. "I don't think I've ever seen you in such radiant glory before. tis beautiful on you."

Warpriest Prime​

 

[Alina Grayson]

Alina watched him with a soft light in her eyes, the affection there unspoken but undeniable. She didn’t move at first just stood close, arms folded loosely before her, the edge of a smile tugging at her lips.

“I think blaming the chocolate is a perfectly sound strategy,” she said softly, matching his earlier tone. “It’s terribly persuasive.”

Her gaze lingered on him a moment longer, studying the small shift in his expression when he knelt back down to Lira. The way his voice softened. The way he always saw the little things. It pulled at something deep and quiet in her, something that had less to do with the moment and more with who he was in it.

When he stood and held out the sweets, her smile widened not in amusement, but in something more tender. She looked between the two offered chocolates and then back up to him, not taking one right away.

“Decisions decisions.,” she said gently, fingers brushing lightly against his palm as she selected one. It was a small touch, insignificant by itself, but her eyes flicked up to his at the same time acknowledging it, sharing it.

“Thank you,” she added, soft and sincere.

TAG: Aiden Porte

 

[Colette]

Adelle Bastiel // Renn Vizsla

A brief shot of disappointment hidden under a respectful nod. Colette's jaw tensed for a moment to swallow the sting of rejection. As gentle as the 'not now' was, she would still kick herself for not having noticed that the other woman was with another man. She gave the man an equally respectful nod of recognition.

And as kind as it would have been to wait, Colette doubted she'd have that kind of patience for this kind of crowd. She looked to the floor for a good answer before she looked out at the crowd.

So much money, so little riches. The answer came not from them but the bar. Colette began to ponder a plan to have her cake and eat it too when the subtle sensation of skin on skin snapped her back to the conversation.

There was no denying the surprise in her face. Eyes wide, back slowly arching back like a cat faced with low-grade feed. The difference being that this wasn't that. This was almost quite the opposite. Colette looked the other woman in the eyes to gauge how she felt about this and then the man who had made it happen with a curious look.

He was sizing her up.

"Thank you," she said and looked at the hand that she held in her own for a moment before gazing back into the other woman's eyes. "I didn't mean to intrude."

"But I would still be really happy to dance with you."