Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Public [Zinder Event] Ilum's Grand Life Day Extravaganza!!! [Zinder Event]


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Again, he asked what she would do to protect her child.

Again, she did not answer. Which was, in and of itself, an answer. No words, only a hard stare that would've pierced withered flesh if it could. The fingers that rested over her swollen abdomen curled into the fabric of her robe.

The motion of Cora's jaw tightening was subtle, but still hard to miss. The Force moved around her, slow and heavy.

Had she done more damage in trying to play by the rules? In walking the strict path of the Light? Politics and Jedi didn't mix well.

The tricky thing about Sith - the successful ones, at least - was that they knew when to tell the truth, and when to lie. The two were often blended together. Much of what Nefaron said was true regarding the decedent King of Ukatis, if embellished to make a point.

Then, with a clever preamble playing off of the perceived danger to her child, he approached. Extended his hand.

And made her an offer.

Cora stared down at the withered tendrils of his fingers. Did he even feel the cold? Did he even care? The sound of her breathing suddenly seemed to fill the space between them as her mind tried to spin itself in a thousand different directions.

"Ah," she said at last, "you intend to wield me as a puppet, as you did my father. An Elder Compact of two."

The notion was ridiculous, but not unheard of. Carnifex, Strosius, and Dorran were all threats in their own right - but none of them had harmed her as deeply as the skeletal Sith standing before her.

"Information finds its way through the little cracks in the Blackwall. You've stirred the anger of half the Empire with your stunt on Fiviune - and you ask me to defend you from them? You're all about making choices that better serve your goal, aren't you?" The purse of her lips was ever so slight. "So why would I not just wait for your fellow Dark Lords to cannibalize you themselves, and save me the trip?"

Her brows pinched, half in thought, half in frustration. Cora didn't step away from Nefaron's offer, but she didn't lean into it, either.

"You think I look at you in disgust - which isn't untrue - but you've been disconnected from your own humanity for so long that you cannot recognize the true strength of a familial bond, nor pity when you see it."

A hand lifted, but it brushed past skeletal digits. Her fingers curled toward her palm until only her index finger was pointed to Nefaron's heart - or where it would've been.
Her voice lowered, ruthlessly sincere and without warmth:

"Do you remember what it feels like to love? Did you ever know?"

Darth Nefaron Darth Nefaron
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What else were you supposed to do at a skating rink?

"…Skate, I suppose."

Oh. That came out wrong. It sounded…almost a little mean. But Eurydice didn't know what else could be done at a skating rink. None of it seemed appealing to her, particularly the part where you fell down.

Ice was slippery. Why would you want to balance upon it in a pair of knife-shoes?

The girl watched in silence as he pressed a palm to his own forehead, perhaps gauging whether or not his temperature was truly out of normal bounds. So this was typical for him? Among the creatures of the Sith, that trait seemed almost…benign. Until-

Eurydice flinched, stumbling back when from his hand, he produced flame. Just a little one - and suddenly, the girl felt embarrassed for having been so startled.

But to her, it was startling.

In a swift recovery, she crept closer, eyes wide. They followed the deft motion of Varin's flame as it slipped between his fingers, clearly under some sort of command. Then, it took the shape of a tree and the crisp scent of dried leaves and heat filled the air.

"I've… never seen fire do that," she whispered as little flower-like silhouettes unfurled among burning flame.

Eurydice was entranced. Even as the embers fell into his palm, she had a hard time shaking the awe out of what she'd just seen. Everything she’d witnessed among the Sith so far had been horrifying - and while fire could be a destructive force, it could also be used to light your path and give much needed warmth.

What did he use it for, she wondered.

"Do not answer if it displeases you, but…what is the nature of your affliction? Does it hurt?"

Varin Mortifer Varin Mortifer

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He chuckled as she responded to his question. Truly ice skating was wonderful in and of itself. Something so dangerous producing such elegance. The amount of skill it takes to maintain momentum and grace. It truly was interesting. Though Varin was far from graceful, he would not last a foot on the ice before falling and he knew that.

His eyes followed her as she stumbled back, slightly startled by the flame. It's clear that she has seen and possibly been through a lot. But slowly she brought herself forward, braving her initial fear, even through the embarrassment. He kept his eyes on her, almost lost for but a moment, before she responded.

Most people would take years being able to command flame. Even in such small motions, though, to control the flame in such a delicate way without it burning out of control or sniffing itself out, that's where most of the concentration comes from. But to Varin it was just second nature now.

She then surprised him with another question.

What was the nature of his affliction?

He paused for a moment as the flame maintained its shape.

Does it hurt?

He let out a soft breath, disguised as a chuckle. The reality of the whole thing would shatter her. But why would he care? Why now have somewhat of a conscience. He looked her in her eyes. Not with a harsh stare, but one of a more softer nature.

“Evrything beautiful comes from catastrophe and chaos. A volcano can level cities and continents. But from its ashes, from the dust of destruction, comes new life.”

He sighed softly.

“It does hurt from time to time. When pushed too far. I have hurt people with it. But only those who deserved it.”

He looked back at the flame in his palm as it shifted back to something of less form, once again dancing between his fingers.

“But I also use it for warmth and healing.”

He smirked as he looked back at her gently offering the flame towards her.

“Would you like to try?”


 

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CAPTAIN RONHAR TANE, TK-3301
OBJECTIVE III: LET'S GO TO THE STALLS!
ILUM


Again, everything seemed to be going to plan for the moment.

Prystill Oasay Prystill Oasay seemed quite agreeable to Ronhar's plan to go shopping and eating before anything else. It certainly made sense to Ronhar. Since they were going to exert themselves with physical activity, getting some form of sustenance made the most amount of sense. Granted, Ronhar didn't think the hike through the woods was going to be particularly strenuous, but he wasn't willing to take any chances, especially with the possibility of bad weather trapping them in a singular location for an extended period of time. If they were forced to take shelter, it would be far better to do so on a full stomach than an empty belly.

Ronhar thought about that particular scenario for a moment. Honestly, if it were to happen, however unlikely, it wouldn't be the worst way to spend the date. Just the two of them together, all alone, in an enclosed space, right on top of each other...

Ronhar began visibly blushing as he banished the thoughts from his head. Now now, there was no need to get ahead of himself. As lovely as Prystill Oasay Prystill Oasay was, this was still their very first date, and Ronhar didn't want to rush into anything unprepared. Better to take things one step at a time.

The couple made their ways to the marketplace stalls, arm in arm, and began exploring in earnest everything that the festival had to offer. There was a bewildering variety of different stores to browse, and plenty of different foods to try out. Prystill Oasay Prystill Oasay began to speak once again.

"Have you eaten Ronhar? I was quite nervous for our meeting myself and refrained from nourishment on the trip in…" , was what she managed to get out before she abruptly stopped talking, as a rather intoxicating aroma began drifting through the air. It wasn't a smell that Ronhar was familiar with, but whatever it was, it certainly smelled delicious! Prystill Oasay Prystill Oasay seemingly agreed as she began to drag Ronhar toward the stall where the smell was emanating from, rather adorably he thought.

"The smell is divine. Can we get one?", she asked him sweetly.

Now was Ronhar's time to shine. Among the many facets of a successful date, paying for your partner was a crucial one. It was a good thing Ronhar had asked for his pay in advance, because he was sure he was going to need it.

"Absolutely", Ronhar said readily as he walked up to the stall. The signage read "Wamapa Warmers", and Ronhar had to wonder if they were made with actual Wampa meat. Could one even eat Wampa? Ronha was going to find out firsthand.

"Excuse me", Ronhar said politely to the vendor. "I'd like two Wamapa Warmers please".

"You got it, boss", the vendor replied. He spent a few minutes creating the tasty treats and handed them to Ronhar, who paid for the food so quickly it left no chance for Prystill Oasay Prystill Oasay to even offer to pay. Not that Ronhar would have let her even if she offered, of course.

"Here you go, Prystill", Ronhar said as he handed her one of the Wamapa Warmers. "I'd be happy to get you another one if you're still hungry, but for now how about we find a place to sit?", Ronhar suggested. As the two enjoyed their meal, Ronhar began to make some small talk, asking Prystill all kinds of questions: was this her first time of Ilum? How had she enjoyed the trip? Had she ever been off world anywhere else? How was her job going? Ronhar did try his best to not get political, as he didn't want to say anything strange or offensive to his date. To be fair, he knew that Prystill was, like him, from the Imperial Confederation, but it was still best to not to bring up such topics on his date.

Plus, he had far more interesting things to talk about, like what his partner's interests were, what she liked and disliked, and if she was enjoying the festivities so far. Not only that, but Ronhar still had yet to put the next part of his plan in motion: finding a sentimental yet suitably costly gift to give to Prystill. The marketplace certainly had plenty of places to buy things, with jewelry, skincare products, knickknacks and souvenirs being present in abundance.

But which one should he get for Prystill?

As he and Ronhar continued to chat, Ronhar began to subtly stare into her eyes. What might be mistaken for a sign of affection (which was not entirely removed from the truth) was actually Ronhar trying to figure out which stalls caught her eye, after which he would suggest they visit said stall and Ronhar buy her a suitably appropriate gift.

In all his years of special operations work, this was perhaps his greatest challenge yet!

TAGS:
Prystill Oasay Prystill Oasay
OPEN

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The ice felt was slick and unforgiving beneath Lysander’s ice-skates. A handful of wobbles may have even sent a little jolt of self-consciousness through him, but he was quick to recover, finding a rhythm of sorts. Step, glide, step, glide. Might’ve even looked like he was inventing a new kata, though the ice would’ve disagreed. Ahead, a couple caught his attention, panic flaring as he realized his path was headed straight toward them. When they shifted, he was forced into a clumsy swerve.. but at least he managed to avoid collision. Then he tried to mask it with a chuckle. It was far too early to let himself be embarrassed.

Luckily, the rink was no cramped corner.. it was an open lake where the stretches allowed freedom. Carefully, he eased into a slower pace, stretching out every glide. A quick glance over his shoulder caught Naniti's movements, and a softer smile bloomed. Lysander thought he sensed her eyes on him.. or maybe only wished it. That quick thought alone sent another ripple of imbalance through his stance.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine after the warm up lap,” he called out.

Pushing a strand of hair back with a gloved knuckle, he tried to shake the thoughts pressing at the edge of his mind. He hoped his gaze had not lingered too long. He had seen her disciplined side, one that could be predictable, and he understood that well enough. But there was another side, the one from Jutrand, that refused to fade. It kept resurfacing when he least expected it, especially at moments such as this.

“While I try not to faceplant. Why don’t you show me something? Not your speed. Just.. control? The way you move when you’re holding a blade.”

A flick of his wrist, his hand tracing a series of invisible, graceful strikes and parries in the air. “Actually.. since dueling with real blades doesn’t quite fit the occasion.. and I do kind of enjoy keeping all my limbs,"
he hummed under his breath, "why not sticks?”

An arm swept toward her in an almost theatrical gesture. “You’ll even have an advantage, naturally.” A playful shrug lifted his shoulders. “And no real Sith would pass that up, right?”
 
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Nej Tane.

Lover.

Boxer.

Thief.

Notorious thief.

Really good thief.

Bad thief.

Bank robber.

Taxidermist.

Dentist.

Pilot.

Outlaw.

Nej Tane was a lot of things- so why was he here? Well it was obvious. Nej was stealing. He was thieving. Sneaking. Conniving. He had pickpocketed some of the greats, made off with a few rings, a holocron (idiot), a datapad, a picture of some girl in some guard's pocket, and at least four necklaces.

He was heading towards Ronhar Tane Ronhar Tane to snag something- anything from his pockets. As it stood, Nej Tane was one of the wealthiest around, but he just liked the thrill. His hands slipped down, low, fast and practiced-

He went to go for something, anything he could get off the Trooper while he was swooning. Oh the thrill!










 

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Location: Objective 1 - Ice Rink Cave
Outfit: Dress
Tag: Shan Shan

"That's...... My mother is called Rose...." Lily stated a little awkwardly since it was the one name that Shan could have stated that would make things weird. "It is a sort of family tradition from my grandmother's family to be named after flowers. At least, everyone in the family was named in such ways beside my aunt. Who my grandfather named after my grandmother refused to accept my aunt." It was not the perfect date conversation, but Lily felt the need to explain since Shan had some understanding of her family so knew that Kat was not a name that followed that tradition.

A blush deepened on her cheeks, "well... I. Yes, I understand." Lily couldn't deny that she didn't appreciate the gifts and if giving was very important to Shan then she would enjoy that. Just something that she would have to keep in mind around that.

"Well, sure, you would say that now!" Lily rolled her eyes, "but it is important for me to always look my best and to make sure everyone knows you are with the most attractive person here. Since you deserve that recognition. Because you are an amazing guy who only deserves the best." Lily stated firmly, it was a statement that she was not accepting challenges on. Shan had been there for Lily for a lot and she wanted him to be with the person who made him the happiest that he could be. If that wasn't her, then so be it. But as long as he believed it was her, then Lily was going to try and do whatever she could to ensure she lived up to the high standard Lily would set for anyone dating Shan.

Grabbing skates that would fit her size, Lily listened as Shan explained the lack of experience, she grinned, "well, if you are going to be on Eshan then you will need to learn how to do some things. Like ice skating. Great activity for a date as well as something to do with children." Lily mentioned as she laced her own skates tightly. Looking over to Shan, holding out a hand to help him maintain his balance as they made their way to the ice.

"Want me to check they are done up properly? Or feeling confident?" Lily asked with a big grin on her lips.
 

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Naniti followed at a distance at first as she got up to speed and scoped out the area. Her eyes did settle on Lysander more often than not though. Caution? Concern? She wasn't certain what it was she was feeling, but as they spent more time together she had come to enjoy it.

When he looked back at her, the Togruta had clasped her hands behind her back as her feet moved out to either side in fluid sweeps. A little talked about physiological feature of her people helped stay aware of people and their... creative movements on ice. Echo location was quite handy even in a fight.

A smirk tugged at her lips as she almost called out for Lysander to turn his eyes forward again with how much he was staring back at her. It was a nice feeling, but did he have eyes in the back of his head? He'd almost smacked into a couple already a moment ago and that was when he was paying attention.

As the gap between them shrunk, Lysander sought to prep the scene for his proscribed training regimen on ice. His thoughts turned quickly, but Naniti felt like indulging him all the same. Without a word, the violet skater simply turned one hundred and eighty degrees around to face the other way while still maintaining the same momentum alongside Lysander. That should be the 'something' hadn't wanted before talk of sticks came up.

"And somehow I feel I should remain on guard," she replied with the same levity. "I think there were some sports gear around the lake somewhere. Probably not a lot of wooden trees in a crystal cave." But who didn't like smacking small objects around a nearly frictionless surface? The gear was even built to handle abuse from being struck together from what Naniti knew.

"Let me know if I need to keep my feet on the ice at all times."

Lysander von Ascania Lysander von Ascania


 
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//: CT-312 CT-312 //:

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Quinn still never understood why 312 always hid her face. It was a frustrating thing about the woman, but she let her have it. There were times when she wondered whether, if ordered, the trooper would remove the mask or scarf from her face. But Quinn wouldn't want that; she'd want the trooper to feel comfortable enough to reveal it on her own.

While the trooper carefully removed her gloves, Quinn felt her breath hitch for just a moment — her mind wandering once more to thoughts she had only recently allowed to run free.

Luckily, today, the Princess was graced with just a momentary glimpse of the curve of the woman's jaw, the fullness of her lips, and —.

Her eyes flickered to the trooper who, this time, gave the order. Quinn brought her hands to the woman, who examined them. Unlike normal people, Quinn was able to keep herself warm. To complain about the weather's chill was unnecessary, and she knew 312 would figure out her farce. Still, she offered her hands as requested.

Quinn observed as 312 assessed the situation of her cold hands. She already knew the woman had figured her out, but was playing along. Quinn appreciated it. With each motion, her hands covering Quinn's, hands against the warmth of the trooper's face, and finally, the gentle breath along her hands — heat trapped by the worn gloves. All of it, Quinn watched intently, each one making her blush deep across her freckled cheeks.

"Mhm… much better." she answered, nodding as her fingers flexed in the gloves. They were old, Quinn could tell easily, and they didn't match her outfit, but knowing they were the troopers was enough for her. Enough for her to forget that she had her own pair tucked away in her small purse.

She continued to watch, letting 312 take care of her. Her boots were laced, and they both stood, heading towards the rink. It took almost everything for Quinn to look forward and not towards the trooper at her side.

It was interesting; she had always found 312 attractive and stalwart, but to be taken care of like this was different. A part of her was confused; she figured the trooper would fight her on this, demand that she take care of herself since she was competent.

It was nice. Quinn enjoyed it. At times, she felt she was constantly the one to look after others, to take care of them. But 312 was doing that for her. Smiling softly, Quinn could feel a warm happiness blossom in her chest — one that she hadn't felt in a long while. Her small thoughts were interrupted once more as her date spoke again.

"Hmm, a little, it's been a while." Quinn mused about the last few times she had gone skating. "Eshan has snow, so the lakes ice over and we tend to skate on that… but like I said, it's been a while."

There was a hint of sadness in her voice. Ever since the Alliance had taken control of Eshan and her sister, it had been harder to visit. She did hope, though, now that the Alliance was gone, staying would be made easier.

"I should take you to Eshan one time, I think you'd like it."

Slowly, she got on the ice, her legs wobbling slightly, but she soon found her footing. Her hand gripped the troopers as she asked the same question.

"Have you skated before?"
 
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FESTIVAL STALLS
ILUM

In the years Toby spent as a Jedi so far, very little of it was spent anywhere cold, least of all Ilum… and that was surprising. Ilum was host to a site of pilgrimage for many a padawan, as much in times ancient, as it was now. And he was still a padawan.

But this was no pilgrimage.

While heading to the festival stalls, his eyes wandered over the way the trail leading there was adorned, with the trees that lined it lit and ornamented, and other decorations bordering the path. His mind wandered through a range of thoughts that were anxious, and others that were curious; some questions would be easily confirmed the moment he saw the white-haired Braze… such as whether the other young man had grown any taller.

It would certainly make things interesting for a potential relationship, if the guy was still short.

Toby flowed in with the crowd, adjusting his scarf, tightening the wrap of it around his neck more as an anxious gesture than anything else: he’d just learned Tapas not that long ago, and the cold climate of Rimos had taught him well. He kept his eyes open and aware as he neared the entrance to the festival stalls, wondering if he’d be able to spot Braze amongst all the other attendees.

With how tall yet youthful Toby looked, it just might be easier for the guy he was here to meet to spot him, first! As far as Toby was concerned, they most definitely did not know each other well enough to pick up on one another through Force-given means, anyway.

Toby pulled out his pocket comm and opened the Zinder app to take another look at Braze’s photos, as if he could ever forget what the other guy looked like:, so pale, white haired, green eyed… quite handsome now. Toby looked up and there he was, as pale and jewel-eyed as the day they’d first met, just hanging around near the entrance. Yeah, pictures did not do Braze justice. And wow, yeah, short. And… happy?

Toby was staring.

 


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Objective: Zinder Event: Let's go to the stalls
Location: Festival stalls, Ilum
Outfit: Maroon Winter Dress
Tags: Ronhar Tane Ronhar Tane | OPEN

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The slow walk to the marketplace was pleasant. Though Prystill was not able to use the Force, she was very good at reading people. Despite Ronhar's military discipline, Prystill sensed a bit of excitement and perhaps even some nerves. Prystill, feeling a bit of the same, found this quite comforting and endearing. When they arrived at the food stand that had caught Prystill's sense of smell, Ronhar was quick to say they could purchase one of the treats.

Ronhar took the initiative and placed an order for two of the treats. Prystill continued to hold onto his arm, though one hand was ready to move to the small pocket in her dress that had a cred chit. When the food arrived Prystill's hand moved just a bit before Ronhar paid for both. "Thank you. I appreciate you being such a gentleman, but don't think I am here for a free meal. I will happily accept chivalrous gifts, but don't feel under an obligation." Prystill hoped that was worded diplomatically enough. She enjoyed being pampered and not having to worry about going into her pocket at each stall they visited. At the same time, she enjoyed having some independence as well. It was a thin line. One she herself was not sure where it truly lay. At the moment she was enjoying Ronhar taking the traditional male role in courtship. Hopefully he would be open to her suggestion if things changed.

"Wampa Warmers is a bit of a funny name don't you think?" Prystill said with a light giggle as they looked for a place to sit down and enjoy their treats. As they spoke Prystill answered Ronhar's questions about her history. This was her first time on Ilum, though she had traveled throughout the Outer Rim in her life. Most change of venues however came with change of ownership (she didn't mention that part, though her file would list her as being a slave of both the Hutts and Sith in her past). She asked about Ronhar's own travels and what Mahporeem was like. She explained that her job was quite different from what she had done for most of her life as a dancer and singer but being able to connect with people would be quite valuable as she grew into her job. So far, she was very much enjoying the new challenges.

Though she had gotten away from it as a profession, Prystill expressed her interest in music and dancing as well as other artistically creative hobbies. She wasn't particularly good at anything other than dancing and singing, but she still enjoyed them. She asked Ronhar about his own interests as well, while saying that she was very happy she decided to come to the festival, specifically because of the good company.

As they continued to walk looking over the other stalls, Prystill noted that some of the folks running the stalls were blatantly looking to profit off the "romance" of the event with overpriced generic stereotypical items that dates exchanged. Those were not of much interest to Prystill, but there was a particular stall that had what appeared to be handmade ornaments of some sort of small crystals. It was at this point that Prystill noticed Ronhar looking at her. Her cheeks warmed and she batted her eyes in a slight flirtation as she gave his arm a little squeeze.

As they shared their exchanged glances, however, Prystill saw something approaching. Or someone actually. Her eyes focused on the man; she relaxed quickly however as she recognized the face from the Zinder App. His presence was not out of place, but then she remembered she had swiped on him and got no reply. "Hey…Are you Nej Tane Nej Tane ? Is it possible you two are related?" Prystill asked, most likely bringing Ronhar's attention to the would-be thief.
 


That little twitch of his mouth? Not supposed to happen. He reminded himself quickly. Confidence was appealing, and maybe that was what made the hint of satisfaction in his expression so challenging to suppress. The Togruta pivoted in a way that looked like the ice was even accommodating her. Not the first time he watched her do something so effortless, and it wouldn't be the last time either.

“Wouldn't hurt to stay sharp.” Cold turned his breath to fog. ”Not until we're finished.. training.”

Training was probably the closest and safest word, even if it rang wrong. A little different than drills, the hierarchy, regardless of his comment earlier. But what else was he to call it?

On cue with her remark, his attention landed at the lake’s edge. Something long jutted from the snow.. two somethings, actually. From here, they looked like plastoid. It was hard to tell from the current distance though. Sports gear? The shape suggested as much. Hopefully sturdy enough to take a hit or three.. and certainly better than the idea of swinging a chunk of durasteel at Naniti.

“Yeah, those will work,” Lysander said, chin tilting toward them. “Figures you’d spot a substitute before I even finished suggesting it.”

Instinct drew his gaze down.. settling on her hand. Recalibrating as needed, he lifted, though probably not fast enough to avoid being read. Clearing his throat, he composed a neutral expression. “I won’t humiliate you immediately. I’ll even pretend you have technique for.. let’s say ten seconds. Maybe twelve if you impress me.”

Just shy of a full lap, an arch of a brow hinted at his amusement. “Very well.. I'll grab them. Don't get too comfortable, Naniti."

With a shift in weight, his skates cut an arc across the lake. Groups of other skaters drifted out of his path.. mostly out of self preservation. Then, the next challenge: coming to a stop. Lysander had already seen a few others handle it. But time pressed against him; the ice wasn’t going to wait. His legs flexed, adjusting, and with a soft grunt he nudged the edge of a snowbank instead of a clean stop.

Fingers curled around the nearest stick. Nothing elegant.. but solid enough. The second came with a tug. Scanning for the violet figure across the ice, he drifted back toward the center of the lake, where there was naturally more space.
 
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SECOND DATE: Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania

He was not rebuffed, per se. But he was placed on the back foot.
Word of what had occurred in the past weeks had drifted out of Sith space. The Tsis'Kaar, that bastion of subterfuge and intrigue, had fallen to the Corpse Lord amid a bloodshed between the rising power of Anoat and the forces of the High Prophet. Regardless, the Tsis'Kaar was no longer the third pillar of power within the Empire, a fact that the masses praised and condemned with equal ferocity. Cora was correct, Nefaron had made enemies with this move, but she could not see the broader scheme at play.

That's alright. She was clever. In time, she would understand.

But did she think she could unnerve him with her little tirade? An accusatory finger directed at his near-lifeless heart, Darth Nefaron's broken maw twisted into a grin. His arm fell back to his side as his eyes found the blue orbs that looked upon him with such disgust. She'd unknowingly walked into a trap of her own making, an opportunity Nefaon would not let pass.

"To love? Oh my dear, I knew love. Despite it all, I became what I was. You think your pity wasted on me when in reality it is I who pities you. Don't you understand?"

It was quick, but Nefaron's cold fingers wrapped around Cora's hand. He didn't move to attack her, nor did the force swell around them. Instead, he simply leaned forward, just slightly, to offer her a vision of a future she did not wish to imagine.

"What if your child ends up just like me?"

Nefaron's grasp fell away as he paced a few steps from the Jedi, to let her linger on the thought. But he had more fuel to add to that fire.

"Oh, rest assured, he will not look like me, but say your vast knowledge and motherly love fail to stem the whispers of the Dark Side? What happens when a Dark Lord stumbles upon your child on whatever picturesque backwater you usher him away to? They will twist your words, they will promise power and riches or a path to true knowledge, knowledge you keep from them. Perhaps it's me, perhaps it is another who is unknown to you, but that still leaves that uncomfortable truth."

The Coprse Lord spun his heel to face her again, his voice low and full of sadistic glee.

"Would you kill your child if they became like me? Like your cousin? Like Carnifex? Could you bring yourself to do that?"

Despite himself, Nefaron was not rescinding his offer. In fact, he'd only strengthened his argument.

"Yes, Corazona. I will use you in my schemes, but do not think yourself a puppet like your father. This compact is mutually beneficial; you aid me in destroying my enemies, and I will ensure your child is safe from rival Dark Lords. I would go so far as to teach you the secrets of the Dark Side, not to turn you to my banner but to better resist the sorcery that will be employed against you, the same that might tempt your offspring in the future."

As if to amply his point, Nefaron reached into his cloak to remove a handful of powder. He cast it into the fire, turning its flames to a bright blue flame on which, if one looked hard enough, visions could be viewed.

"War is coming, Cora. The Blackwall will no longer contain the Sith as we seek to gorge on the ruins of the Galactic Alliance. Have no doubts that Black Sun and the Mandalorians will rally to the Sith's cause if only to benefit from the chaos. The Republic will stand alone, so I ask if you can afford to brush away an eager ally? You saw how much chaos I caused by destroying the Tsis'Kaar, and that was merely an opening move in a long war."

So, with a strengthened offer in hand, the Terror Lord faced the Jedi Knight once more, hand extended with renewed vigor and glee.

"We are not allies, Cora. But until we can ensure we are both safe, we can be partners."


 
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Naniti smiled as Lysander remain inclined to keep the pressure on affirming she should stay on guard. Training? Practice? An amusing way of showing off that might come with some enlightenment by chance? All possible. Whatever it was, she wasn't showing signs of abandoning him out of boredom, annoyance, or fear. If anything her eyes remain clear and focused on what he'd do next.

The Togruta snorted. "This is my scene, Lysander. Even if I don't break your guard today, I'll have you admit that much." What ice skating rink or park wouldn't have someone with tools capable of beating one another with? Pucks. Discs. Balls. Didn't matter, someone knew how to have fun, and out here there was a good chance fun came with a little pain -- and the gear had to be able to take it. "You'd be surprised how much time I spent out here." And how many injuries she'd imparted on others during such sessions. They hadn't spoken in depth about her past. Naniti felt the ways they'd been brought up had been exceptionally different. Maybe that was part of what she found so intriguing about him. She couldn't easily anticipate his thoughts or actions.

"Then I'll just have to blow your mind," Naniti taunted as she leaned forward in Lysander's direction while still skating backwards. Twelve seconds if she impressed him, huh? Man certainly was trying to get her all riled up. If it was a competitive spirit he wanted, he needn't worry.

She watched as he turned to retrieve the equipment. Soon as he started, Naniti picked up a little speed to spin back around. There was no hesitation in her feet fanning out in large sweeps that shoved her down the ice. Lysander had only begun to think of slowing by the time the Togruta was weaving between casual skaters and budding couples alike. There was even a pair holding hands Naniti crouched down and flew under the bridge formed by their arms.

The sharp shiik shiik of skates was all that preceded an, "On your left," as the Togruta flew behind Lysander after completing a lap.

It appeared like he'd gathered the sticks, so Naniti only kept the speed up for half the circuit before she started to slow. She could go in at full speed and screech to a stop, but that wasn't respectful. Lysander wanted a challenge, but that didn't mean he was trying to lord over her as some others might. Curse of the pretty Sith Acolyte woman. At least she wasn't a Twi'lek.

Once the violet Acolyte slid to a stop near Lysander, she smiled. "Acolyte reporting as ordered."

Lysander von Ascania Lysander von Ascania


 



Another crisp little note of presence was all it took to soften the lines of his face with mirth. Then his gaze found her.. the violet blur moving across the lake. Back on Jutrand, he wore the composed mask well, at least until their dance started. Today, however, it was a struggle.. not that he minded. Lysander’s curiosity and intrigue toward the Togruta had grown steadily, fed by their interactions and a few observations made since then. Skating on ice, engaging in sport.. these were not areas he would have guessed. Yet there she was, moving with the grace of someone naturally athletic.

Both hands flexed inside his gloves, tightening around the sticks, something to anchor his wandering thoughts. Or.. at least, something to make it look like he was focused. A single lap had done little to fix that strange wobble beneath his skates. Better than before, sure, but far from graceful. One of them pressed to the side, angling his body into a slow circle around her. It was a ritual of motion more than anything else.

With emerald eyes drawn to Naniti, he raised his right arm and sent the stick sailing through the air toward her. Nothing careless or theatrical.. just a simple, thoughtful gesture, to make sure the acolyte was armed and ready. Unlike most Sith, he didn’t care about the illusion of control at that moment.

“Well, I suppose I should give a proper inspection.. we’ll see if your skill here actually translates into action. I hope you’ve been practicing!” Quippy enough to hide the increasing pulse of adrenaline. Then, almost to himself, born of ritual. “I do like a good challenge.” Part mantra, part affirmation.. something to prepare himself amid movements he had yet mastered.

Odd in his grip, the stick was far from the rhythm he knew so well of a curved hilt. Heavier, straighter.. almost like a quarterstaff? Two hands would be necessary. Twirls ran through his wrist, shoulders stretching through the motions. No problem; many situations in life demanded adaptation. There was always a way.

Lysander offered a duelist salute, possibly to hide the fact that his skates were sliding unevenly, to also hide awkward tension in his legs. Every muscle in his core worked overtime. Beneath it all.. it felt good. Alive and entirely unnecessary.. and perhaps a little fun.

So, he finally moved forward with intent. Lysander tried shifting onto his right foot, left following in with a slide. Naturally, power from a strike would come from the hips.. but he hadn’t quite figured out how to generate it while skating. Arms alone would have to do. The stick arced forward, aiming for her midline first, to test control, gauge her reactions, timing, awareness, the usual. Same as with a saber, really.. just a way to initiate the duel. Not a killing strike.
 

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Naniti managed to hold her ground, but her upper body twisted slightly under the weight of the stick Lysander tossed her. It was longer and heavier than she'd expected. Obviously, these weren't children's toys. The imbalance introduced by the length had put more pressure on her stance, but not enough to cause her footing to wobble. Silently she noted a little more practice wouldn't hurt to reduce the extra strain. Then again, she hadn't focused on how to lift people or heavy weaponry like an actual athlete duo in a performance.

At Lysander's prompting, the Togruta's lips parted, but then shut without a word. She just smiled. There wasn't any need to describe how she'd rise to the occasion; there would be plenty of opportunity to demonstrate it shortly.

A lighter weapon would have been better on the ice, but if you could choose your battlefield somewhere over than ice would be even better.

"Ant serjek." With that, she brought the stick up before her in preparation.

When he moved to strike, Naniti shoved off and forward only slightly with her right to move away from the strike to keep space open between them for the block. Momentum could easily carry them slowly beyond one another.

"You said it earlier, control. You have to have it to stay on your feet. To move where you must. But it's the one thing you don't have out here." There were no rapid changes in direction. Momentum favored one direction and one direction only -- the one you were already moving in. Not that 'tight' turns weren't possible, but in close quarters while fighting with a melee weapon? Took 'footing' to a new level. Not to mention balance as they stood on two narrow pieces of metal. "This should be fun," she added with a cheer.

Lysander von Ascania Lysander von Ascania


 

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// Miss Kirie Corsell //
// Objective // A walk in the snow
//
Focus // Lady Jorryn Fordyce
//
Attire // Little black dress


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<:Hello!:>

Kirie dipped her head in acknowledgement at Jorryn's signing. It was nice to see she had made an effort. Many of the Galaxy's elite, most of whom were humans, had no need to learn sign language unless they themselves were deaf or non speaking, and amongst those who could afford the latest in treatments that too was exceedingly rare. More a matter of choice than anything else. The fact Jorryn had made the effort was a nice gesture, but perhaps it also showed a willingness to ignore the divides of role and station that would usually separate them. Maybe.

Their hands linked loosely, Kirie followed Jorryn through the frozen jewelled forest. She pretended to watch the snow flurries as they swirled across the well-trodden path, but out of the corner of her eye she was watching Jorryn watch her, noting with some satisfaction the subtle blush colouring the woman's cheeks. Kirie wondered if Jorryn was thinking about later, about some private place under the mistletoe. That particular thought had struck Kirie too, but she had pushed it aside, too anxious about the present moment to linger long on hypotheticals.


"Soooo..."
"How have you been? Aside from being shot with a bean bag of course."

Kirie raised an eyebow and supressed a silent giggle. She had expected Jorryn to maintain her smooth and seductive affect. Kirie had been building her own wall of distance and etiquette to to compensate. For that reason Jorryn's question, equal parts genuine and awkward, caught Kirie off guard. She responded without really thinking. Something she never did.

'I'm alright. Happy to be here with you.' she shrugged. 'And you know, Arris came and apologised, in her way.' The comment about growing left her stumped, though. Was that what was happening, she was growing? That wasn't how it felt. It felt like she was sliding down a hill.

She cracked a smile as the Echani woman jostled her, glad for the distraction.

'You should see the bruise.' Kirie replied. 'It's unbelievable.' She held up her free hand to trace a circle the size of her palm, then placed Jorryn's the spot she was shot gently. 'And before you go ripping my dress, just know you'll be paying for it.'

This was better. The back and forth, the teasing. Genuine questions made her think. They made her remember. Kirie didn't want to think. She wanted to have fun.

She drank in the way Jorryn looked her up and down, and, growing bolder, she returned the look. But, like Jorryn, she looked away quickly, instead focusing on the rich scent wafting over from the stall nearby. Her mouth watered, and she allowed Jorryn to guide her to an outdoor table with a cushioned bench cleverly installed with heating chips, and watched her date fill their cups while she waited for her butt to defrost. Maybe she had been a little overambitious with her choice of dress after all.

As it turned out, the hot, sweet beverage was just what Kirie needed, filling her belly with a pleasant warmth that spread through her chest. They sipped their drinks and Jorryn's arm wrapped around her waist and it felt very natural. Without really thinking about it, Kirie placed her hand on the woman's thigh, her manicured fingers absentmindedly playing with the material of Jorryn's stockings.

'You are warm.' Kirie agreed. That wasn't really what Jorryn had been getting at, but whatever. It was nice to have her arm around her.

Kirie pulled back a little and gave Jorryn a funny look.

'You're not like I imagined you.' Kirie told Jorryn. 'I read about your history, the power you had, and I imagined you just another Sith.' She looked up at the green spring dangling above them, strung between two trees and secured with a pretty red bow. Jorryn hadn't noticed it yet.

'Why did you want to come with me tonight, Jorryn? Wanted to know what everyone else sees in me?'

 
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Location: OBJECTIVE 2 ICE RINK
Objective: Dance, maybe chat to someone cute
Loadout: here Wearing this
Tags: Saul Whesai Saul Whesai



"I guess a six pack? I've got Mum's sweet tooth so its safely wrapped up." she was very fit, but she wasnt zero percent bodyfat fit.

She walked to the edge of the ice and pressed a button to retract the blades to allow her to walk more easily on what were now snow shoes. They smelled the sweet stands before they saw them and she picked up speed walking slightly ahead fishing her credit chip out. It was a lovely traditional wooden shack with a heavy set four armed alien behind it. Two of his arms worked the chocolate urn whilst another reached over to dump fresh batter mix into the donut conveyor. They sizzled and popped as they made their way along into the hot oil.

"Two hot chocolates.... oh... I assume your all biological on the inside right?" she quickly checked with Saul before completing her order. "and a bag of four sugared doughnuts." she paid, there was a little look of "how much?" On her face, but it wasnt news to anyone that these places were priced for the tourist budget. She wouldnt complain.

Her chocolate steamed and the marshmallow began to melt. "Cheers!" she offered her mug to Saul to tap with his.



 
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//: Riven Riven //:

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As Rio looked for the woman she was supposed to be on this date with, someone walked up to her. A rare and dangerous choice, but whoever it was, Rio would respect. It was at that moment, as Rio looked for the source of the voice, that she finally looked down. Looking straight up at her was Riven, the woman from the app.

Everything seemed correct: crimson gaze, pale skin, and elongated ears that classified her as a fellow Eldorai. The only difference was that there were a few feet of height missing from the Elf. Rio blinked a few times, then her subtle frown curved into a grin. This was unexpected, but in her mind, it would be interesting nonetheless.

Luckily, Rio didn't have to clarify anything; the little Elf had already decided to introduce herself and offer her a hand. An interesting gesture, but one that was appreciated. In most situations like this, people assume there is a need for hugging.

The handshake was returned, and Rio nodded.

"Pleasure is mine, and yes, I'm Rio." Again, she examined the woman; she was cute, particularly in the little cardigan.

Rio didn't let go of the woman's hand for a moment, but then let it slip, making sure her fingers laced for just a breath with Riven's. Potentially to tease or to draw something more.

"Have you had a chance to look around? There are several stalls with food and treats," Rio mused as she looked around with her height, "Drinks and other items are also available."

She hated the next question, but her curiosity was starting to wear on her.

"You're also Eldorai? Same as me?"
 
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Normally, with duels, Lysander’s body went on autopilot. Today, though, the unfamiliar feeling beneath his blades made him conscious of the smallest shifts. Just another element to make it feel alive.. unpredictable in the best way. Other skaters on the lake drifted past, casting curious looks at the pair.

The freeze was biting at his cheeks. And his skates were desperate to find a rhythm in the ice. Control was a prized word, especially for one of his upbringing, but here on Ilum, it was more elusive than ever.

“Control isn’t just about the body, though. It’s the mind too, Naniti. The calm in the storm that keeps you upright when everything tries to fling you off course.”

The edges of his skates bit just enough to hold and allow a pivot. He wouldn't rush; Form II also taught that a duel was just as much about patience. Rushing only meant losing information.

Fingers tightened around the stick.. a promise that another strike could soon follow. “And control..” Lysander’s words curved gently, for they were an echo of the cheer she’d offered. “Lately.. I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s about acceptance too.” Another breath broke free. “Accepting that sometimes.. you have to let go of the illusion of order. To trust the flow, yourself.. and maybe..” His gaze fell somewhere between the ice and the sky, “.. to trust someone else, too.”

There was another wobble as he cut in a straight line toward her. “Fun is one word for it. Challenging could be another.. but I think I like this version of fun. That doesn’t mean I’m going easy on you, though.”

Drawing the stick up over his shoulder, he swung it in a diagonal arc toward her side. It would serve well to test her own balance; this time, his hips engaged to fuel the motion.. possibly encouraging her to think and decide how far she wanted to push this too.
 

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