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

[Eurydice]

"Oh."

The sound slipped from her and was carried away on a gentle breeze. Of course, it would've made sense if she'd stopped for moment to think about it - the glowing runes etched into his skin, while perhaps not out of the ordinary for the Sith, were otherwise strange. And though there was nothing inherently offensive about the patterns, Eurydice did not understand what they meant, nor how they'd been acquired.

But it was clear that Varin was uncomfortable with them.

"You should wear it, then," she offered. "If you feel better doing so."

His slow movement towards her drew Eurydice's gaze upward. With her large, frightened eyes and tensed shoulders, she looked like a nexu ready to dart. The girl watched him carefully, the extension of his hand, then the fingers he brought to his temple.

"You have nothing to fear here, Eurydice."

She wanted to believe him. Something in her desperately wanted to believe that this man was safe, but ever since she'd been snatched from Ukatis, Eurydice's world had been only suffering and lies.

Yet…

Surely it wouldn't hurt to spend just a little more time with him? At least until Nefaron concluded his business, and she could scurry back to her Master's side.

"Where would we walk to?" Oh, that sounded like a stupid question. "I mean it…maybe we'll only get more lost."

Eurydice slipped her hands into the wide-mouthed sleeves of her robe and blinked. Why was she trying to talk herself out of this? Instead of simply voicing her agreement, she began walking. Slow, tiny steps. Then, she looked to Varin as if to say: you coming?

A paragon of communication.

Fingers, still warm with residual heat, fidgeted with those wide sleeves as she wracked her brain for something that made this a little less awkward. Seers never needed small talk, and there was no one on Anoat she could speak with who did not terrify her.

"Did your Master make you come here too?"

Varin Mortifer

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti ​

Lysander’s arms began to rotate for another counter as each adjustment felt like a whispered argument with the ice.. a tug here, a slide there. Always that trust between balance and muscle. Options pinged in his mind.. pivot, retreat, redirect. But none of them promised clean execution. If he were to pivot, that would risk overshooting. If he retreated, he gave the line of control. Redirect? Maybe.. but at what cost? His thoughts were quickly tangled.

Another ping ran through his mind like the edge of a vibroblade along metal. His mind was moving faster than the skates. Definitely not a good sign during a duel. Possibilities stretched ahead. There was also the risk of injury. The kind that came not from necessity, but from training. Those he’d normally deem avoidable.

By the time his partner dropped to the ice, his balance betrayed him further. But not before the awareness hit him. Something about misjudgment and danger. There was no time, no way to fully stop. His skates skidded, the edges biting harshly as his legs tried to pivot around her, but momentum only carried him forward.

One arm thrust out, claws searching for solid purchase.. but only found the Togruta’s arm. After.. a sharper catch, his leg suddenly entangled with Naniti’s, throwing both bodies into chaos. Scramble mode was engaged, but ultimately he surrendered to physics. And omehow, he landed on his back, the icy chill pressing through his jacket. Lysander’s chest rose and fell, breath forming small visible puffs.

Rasps of skates still teased his ears, accompanied by laughter carrying over the lake. He wasn't sure of the source, nor did he really care. At least he didn't feel fractured or defeated. In fact.. he felt anything but. Gradually, he turned his head to steal a glance, unsure how she had taken what just unfolded.

The thought circled once more in the quiet of his mind, before slipping free. “Some things.. are easier to show than to speak aloud.”

 

[Shan]

Location: Ice Skating Cave
Tag: Lily Decoria


"Tulips...I see. I'll need to make a note of that. I'll be honest, I've never thought much of flowers myself. It's hard to get a favourite when you're grown on a barren moon, just filled with metal and buildings."

Of course, there were a few plants on Nar Shaddaa, but they had been few and far behind. And Shan had always been more focused on helping people than taking in his surroundings. It was mostly a recent thing for Shan to be able to relax and take in the beauty of the Galaxy, like he had been with Lily. A soft smile spreading across his face as he brushed some of Lily's fringe out of her face before giving the Echani a quick peck on the cheek. Physical affection in public was...still something that Shan couldn't quite wrap his head around. An irony, when his master had been Kahlil.

Either way, they were heading out onto the ice, as Shan tried to work on his balance. Shifting it from side to side as he moved the skates along the ice to try and get a feel for it. It felt unnatural to Shan to an extent. Part of him wanted to walk normally, but each step was more similar to a glide than an actual step. There was a small amount of embarrassment in the back of his mind as he stuck to the outside of the ice, but if he was going to fall, he'd rather do it somewhere he'd be able to get back up easily, as opposed to the middle of it all.

And then Lily reached out to take his hand, with him bringing his hand up to respond. At least this way, if he fell, Lily would be coming down with him. A small grin spread across his face at that thought, before Lily asked how things had been, bringing up her Knighting at the same time.

"Mhm. Sorry for not chatting to you during that. I just thought it'd be better for you to spend it with other Jedi. And before you say I still count as one, that doesn't count. I can catch up with you about your Knighting whenever. Not every Jedi there could. And I'm glad it meant a lot to you. You mean a lot to me."

With that however, Shan seemed to avoid the question of how things were going...At least until he spoke up again, after a few moments of thinking.

"Things are as well as they could be. I'm treating more people. Don't really have any family to be spending life-day with. Grabbing a few gifts where I can. Honestly...life is a bit boring when you're not doing Jedi duties. Not that I'm complaining."

 

[Varin Mortifer]

He chuckled a bit louder than before at her suggestion for him to wear it as he unhooked the jacket from the branch and brushed off the residual frost.

“I’m not the one who is more prone to the cold.”

He gently placed it over her shoulders and walked beside her.

“I would much rather you be warm over my comfort, besides..”

He looked down at his arms that now had a steady pulse of warm light.

“It doesn’t feel as bad right now.”

He offered his arm to her to hold as they made their way through the snowy trail lined by trees and small lights.

“I’m really good at knowing where to go and where to turn up. Besides, I heard there is a little market place nearby, and you could use something warm to drink.”

He thought for a moment about Lady Revna Marr , and the amount of freedoms she had gifted to him.

“My master…lets me wander. I always find my way back to her when it is needed. To have the freedom to travel and learn by my own experiences is some of the best knowledge I have ever obtained.”

He looked down at the trail, almost at his feet. He wanted to ask her the same thing, to prod further. But if she had shown evidence of a pained past he did not want to remind her of it. Just to enjoy the present, for it was a gift.

He shuffled with her keeping with her pace through the trees as the sounds of voices and people started to travel to them. Ahead he could see more lights, smell baked goods and some sounds of music.

“Do you…”

He stopped himself, his index finger and his thumb began to rub against each other almost like a nervous tick.

“Do you want dinner? I’ll buy, of course.”

He looked down at her once again, a smile came to his face as he realised his ridiculous question. Who would have dinner with such a brute of a man such as he? His eyes drifted back to the ground as he grew quiet again, waiting for her answer.

Eurydice​

 

[Naniti]

Naniti groaned. What the Nihilus had happened? Just before she'd dropped to pass between Lysander's legs... Had he grabbed her? Wait, had he been looming over her or, no, had he tried to use her to steady himself? Was that way her arm and shoulder hurt? There were a few other bruised spots as well, but none nearly as sore as her arm. Probably from them tumbling on the ice.

At least her face wasn't planted in the snow. In fact, it was relatively comfortable discounting the calm air movement in the cavern. With a few blinks of her eyes, the Togruta tilted her head back to figure out where she'd landed.

That's when she caught Lysander rousing in search for her, and their eyes met.

A blink passed before she quickly slid a knee beneath her to lift her upper body off the man under her. A knee that'd stopped precariously short of his jewels -- an unplanned threat and happy avoidance. Both of her hands gave his ribs a light three-strike drumming (nothing serious) as Naniti straightened up. "Sho--? Oh, shut up, you nerf-herder," came her strangled cry as she fought to keep her voice down.

A sharp grunt followed as she glowered down at him for just a moment. "Are you alright?" She winced as her brief pat-strikes just a moment ago aggravated an already bruised arm. It'd survive. She'd live. Pain was just another source of... motivation.

As for everyone else nearby, the Togruta deliberately avoided looking at them. If she saw them snickering, Naniti might just be tempted to wipe the smile off their faces. The sort of threat few ever acted on, but fewer still were Sith Acolytes. Anger overruled pain; she'd give them all a sound beating and not regret it later. Best not to notice in the first place.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Ronhar Tane]

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

As Ronhar stood there, his hand extended toward Nej Tane , he felt a slight bit of pressure tugging on his other arm. Glancing over, he saw Prystill Oasay clinging onto him, making it abundantly clear that the pair was currently together and very much enjoying each other's company. That gave Ronhar no small amount of satisfaction, and he could feel himself starting to loosen up again. So what if this fool was trying to interrupt them? So what if Ronhar had been momentarily distracted? Who cared at this point? He was having a great time with a lovely girl, and nothing short of some sort of absolute disaster could put a damper on things.

Prystill spoke up to break the awkward silence.

"If we can do something for you, we'll be looking over the wares of the market", she said as she began leading Ronhar away from Nej. Ronhar withdrew his extended hand to follow her, and as they walked toward the markert, Ronhar couldn't help but glance back one more time, a smug grin plastered all over his face as he gave Nej the last bit of attention that he was going to give him all night. He turned back around, feeling much better, and began looking at the wares that Prystill was interested him.

Laid out before him was a rather eclectic collection of various kinds of ornaments. Each had a different style about them, though all were quite well made and enjoyable to look at. Prystill took her time mulling over what piece she might like to buy, before settling on one particular example. It was fashioned in the visage of a snowflake, the light of the marketplace stalls reflecting off the piece as it glimmered and sparkled in the darkness. It was a rather nice piece, Ronhar had to admit.

"This one is just beautiful. Don't you think Ronhar?", Prystill asked him, clearly interested in acquiring it for herself. This was it, Ronhar's big chance to truly make a lasting impression on his date. The next words that he spoke would be of critical importance if he was to see Prystill again after the end of tonight. Ronhar took a quick breath, looked Prystill dead in the eyes, and said:

"It certainly is beautiful. Though not as beautiful as you".

Nice one, Ronhar!

He then turned back to the vendor, who was practically staring Ronhar down himself, and said to him:

"We'll take it."

Ronhar gave the man his credits and he boxed the ornament up, placing it in a small bag before handing it to Ronhar. Ronhar thanked the man and turned back to Prystill.

"Allow me, I'll be happy to carry out. How do you feel about taking a little walk? I hear the forests of Ilum are quite lovely this time of year, and I'm feeling a bit...restless, at the moment. What do you say? Unless you'd rather do a bit more shopping, of course?", Ronhar asked. Honestly, either was fine with him, as long as he could continue spending time with Prystill...

TAGS:
Prystill Oasay
OPEN

 

[Sergeant Omen]

OBJ 3

Omen was busy looking through the kiosks and stalls, trying to find something for his partner in crime among them. Thankfully, he had time since Aren would arrive later after she finished one of her tech consulting gigs. Even after the time they had spent together, the clone still had a hard time knowing what she would want. Everything here wasn't Aren's style... The Clone couldn't imagine her enjoying a snowglobe of all things or one of those Singing Yodas that sang Life Day songs when you hit a button on its feet. Unfortunately, these stores didn't exactly mechanic tools either... Still he had to choose something. The last thing he wanted was to greet her empty-handed.

Eventually, Omen managed to choose a snowflake bracelet out from all of the rest of the tourist trash that she might actually half like. He knew Aren didn't usually wear jewelry, but maybe she would make an exception in this case.

Putting in his earbuds so he could hear over the hustle and bustle, he quickly left Aren a message on his communicator.

Hey, are you on-world yet? My hands have been missing holding you, and maybe my lips have missed yours, too. I'll be in the tourist trap that is this marketplace, and I'll try to find you once you give me your location.

With Love, Omen

Shutting his communicator off, all that was left to do was wait for her and hope that her shuttle was a flaming wreck on the spaceport's tramack.

Aren D'Shade

 

[Aren D'Shade]

Aren stepped off the shuttle with her usual unhurried precision, boots crunching into Ilum's snow as if she'd landed in the middle of a warzone rather than a Life Day festival engineered by a man who clearly hated peace and quiet. Her breath curled in the cold air, her eyes tracking the dizzying array of lights strung between makeshift stalls, the crowds already gathering, the sound of holiday music echoing off crystal walls.

It was all… a lot.
Too bright.
Too loud.
Too cheerful.

But there was one reason she was here — and he had just left her a message full of longing and sentimentality so offensively sweet she almost turned around and boarded the shuttle again.

Almost.

She thumbed her communicator on as she walked, weaving effortlessly through the crowd. "Omen," she said, her tone a familiar mixture of flat and fond, "I'm planetside. And no, my shuttle didn't crash and explode like you were clearly hoping. Try not to be too disappointed."

A beat — the sound of her exhale brushing across the mic, more warmth in it than she'd ever admit.

"And don't say things like your hands and lips 'miss me' while I'm standing in public. People can hear, and I'm not carrying you out of here if someone gets ideas."

A pause, quieter.
Truer.

"…but yes. I missed you, too."

She lifted her gaze toward the chaos of twinkling stalls and drifting crowds. Finding him by sight alone would be impossible — he always stuck out in the wrong ways, and yet somehow blended into trouble like he was designed for it.

"Send me a ping. I'll head your way."

She pocketed the device and started forward, her expression unreadable except for the faintest curve at the corner of her mouth — one that appeared only when she was walking toward him.

Aren D'Shade did not like festivals.
She did not like crowds.
She did not like Life Day.

But she liked him.
Enough that she was here.

And that was saying something.

Sergeant Omen

 

[Sergeant Omen]

Having found a bench to sit at in the Food Court-like area of the market, Omen quickly glanced at the communicator, shaking his head with a tired chuckle as her message played over its speaker. "Well, it's certainly her..." He quickly gave his own message back as well as gave out his location to her, his voice starting to sound as dry and ironic as Aren's usually was.

"Well... there goes that life insurance plan I took out on you... Thought you said you liked it when I'm impossible? And I think you should be glad I only said those two things instead of other parts of my body you like. Still, glad your heart beat a little bit faster thinking about me as much as mine did thinking about you with that murdering glare that melts me into a puddle. "

"Meet you in the Food Court. We can go wherever you want after that."

With a shake of his head, he wondered if Aren would ever get used to him giving affection in public. Maybe he should put a Loth Cat charm on that bracelet; it certainly would represent her attitude most of the time. Either that... or a very angry Acklay ready to strike... The sight of a silently seething Aren was enough to send a shiver down his spine. Better use the most of the minutes to calm down before she got here.

Aren D'Shade

 

[Kito]

//: Valaine Valentine //:

Kito's face lit up the moment she saw Valaine move towards her and wave. She shook her head, answering the first part of the question. Carefully, she did her best to hide the box for now, but figured she was too late. The Sangnir was quick to notice things, and Kito realized she might have done better to surprise the woman if she had tucked it away.

"No, not long — I got here a little bit ago myself." Still smiling, she offered the skates to the woman as she reached for them.

"Should be your size, if they're not, I'm going to feel a little silly for being so confident." Kito chuckled as she undid the laces so that Valaine could have an easier time fitting them on.

"I saved a spot for you," she said, pointing to the bench behind her and moving aside slightly so they could switch positions.

Looking up at the crowd, Kito shook her head and shrugged, "It's for some app, a gathering for Life Day." Kito had a general idea of what the app was for, but at the end of the day, felt it was silly. Though it was nice to have access to fun events such as this. She would only keep it for that reason.

The compliment, though not unexpected, did catch her off guard. Even little things, such as that, always brought a blush to the Shaper's cheeks.

"As always, you look really great yourself…" Kito cleared her throat, her gaze caught in the swirling storm of Valaine's grey eyes.
Then, she blinked, bringing herself back to explaining the event…

"I got tickets for it through it, thinking it would be fun to hang out again…" Her lips pressed together slightly, "I've missed you." She left it at that and found an opportunity to shove the box into her pocket, hoping that Valaine was too occupied with the conversation and the skates.

With her hands free, she offered them to her friend. "I can help you with those if you want?" A hand patted her thigh, indicating for Valaine to put the skate there so she could help tighten and lace the boot.

"Have you ice skated before?"

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

He couldn’t quite figure out whether the pain in his back came from the impact or Naniti collapsing onto him. Her hands left a memory on his ribs; he found himself strangely grateful for it, too. The cold pressed along the edges of his coat, seeping through the sleeves, but now he found himself caught up in the Togruta’s rhythm.

So, he let himself linger.. half reclined. He’d been called many things over the years, some worse than others, but nerf‑herder.. that was a first. A quiet shift graced the teen's mouth. “Your vocabulary is improving,” Lysander murmured, “Though I must confess, I was kinda hoping for something slightly more melodramatic, such as.. ‘you’ll pay for this, Lysander’.”

Something between a scoff and laugh pressed in the air next. “Mostly,” he answered. “But I’m convinced you used me as a landing pad on purpose.”

He lifted his head just enough to look around, noticing attention from a few onlookers here and there. None of them mattered during their duel, and here, now, with her, it was all the same.. not the faintest trace of embarrassment was present. It certainly wasn’t the worst way to lose his footing.

“I’ve taken worse hits,” his head settled back against the ice. There was no point in calling out the knee that could’ve ended his lineage; it wasn’t a direct assassination attempt.

His breath fogged before him, between them. Silence opened for a few heartbeats; it was comfortable in a way that became more around common Naniti recently. After the danger of their training.. or after a fall, it was always there he felt the truth of things.

Aside from his back, there was an ache in his quadricep too, but it was easy to ignore. This was just part of the path they navigated daily, and it would be strange to have a day where nothing hurt.

His gloved hand floated over, lightly brushing her arm as she shifted. Lysander was conscious that the gesture carried a note of affection. But given he was an idiot, he gave half-mocking and curious looks like he was conducting some kind of scientific examination. Bruises under some imaginary microscope? A brilliant notion. For science, of course. A finger skimmed the length of her forearm, for even if disapproval was written across Naniti's face, his own was lit with amusement and admiration.

A low hum slipped from his lips. “I’d say your durability is pretty impressive.. looks like you’ll live to fight another day!”

 

[Aren D'Shade]

Aren didn't slow as Omen's reply filtered through her earpiece — his voice half-teasing, half-sincere, and somehow always managing to make her want to roll her eyes and pull him closer in the same exasperated breath. She threaded through the crowd with the ease of someone who had spent most of her life slipping through tighter and far more dangerous spaces. Lights flickered across her jacket, reflecting off patches of frost still clinging to her sleeves from the shuttle ramp.

By the time he finished speaking, she had already spotted the food court ahead — lines of benches, steam drifting from vendor stalls, and far too many couples taking pictures under glowing ornaments. She thumbed her mic on again, her tone as calm and deadpan as ever.

"…Omen."

Just his name — weighted enough to make her point before she even continued.

"For the record, if you start listing body parts in the middle of a festival, I'm leaving you here. On Ilum. With nothing but your charm to keep you warm. Which means you'd be dead within the hour."

A faint exhale — the closest she ever came to a laugh in public.

"And stop pretending you're afraid of my glare. You walk toward it every time."

She paused just long enough to sidestep a group of excited tourists, then added more quietly:

"I'm almost there. Don't go anywhere."

She ended the transmission and pocketed the device, her pace shifting subtly — not rushed, but no longer leisurely either. She could see him now from a distance: slouched on the bench, shoulders relaxed but eyes scanning the crowd every few seconds, as if hoping she'd already be close enough to touch.

It was ridiculous.
And warm.
And very, very him.

Aren approached without calling out, letting her presence speak first — the familiar weight of her footsteps, the cold bite of Ilum's air still clinging to her clothes, the steady, unflinching way she moved.

She stopped beside the bench, looking down at him with that expression he always insisted was a glare when really it was just… Aren.

"You survived without me for an entire hour," she said dryly. "I'm impressed."

Though her voice stayed cool, her eyes softened in a way they never did for anyone else. She didn't sit yet — she let him take her in first, as if silently checking that he still wanted her here.

He did.
Obviously.

"Move over," she added, nudging his knee with hers. "I'm freezing."

And only then did she sit beside him — close enough that their shoulders touched, closer still when she let herself lean the smallest fraction of her weight into him, as if slotting back into place after being apart for too long.

Sergeant Omen

 

[Naniti]

Her vocabulary...! The Togruta harrumphed. "Oh! Oh, you will pay for it, Lysander." Naniti leaned forward to poke him in the chest as he remain 'reclined' before her all comfortable like. "Just because I like you doesn't mean you're getting away with this." Her tone was seriously, but her expression lacked the murderous intent that usually went along with it. After all, she had no intention of killing him.

"And you deliberately caught my arm when you fell! I think you got the better end of that deal. And it was all your fault." If only there'd been any time to react at all maybe she would have used him as a landing pad. Though she would have tried to land a little higher up his chest. Maybe feign not being able to move...? Look what he had her thinking!

Blue eyes shifted slightly as she made sure Lysander didn't show signs of major injury despite his claim he'd suffered worse. Near-death was worse, so that wasn't exactly reassuring as a statement. Fortunately, as it turned out, he did appear to be physically fine. Relatively. Like herself.

His touch drew a glance, but not before her attention returned to his face. She didn't disapprove. Not really. It was starting to feel a little less awkward these little totally-not-affectionate touches. Someone really should teach Acolytes how to handle social moments like these. 'I will murder you' was far more common and something everyone knew how to deal with given its regularity. This...? Well, it was surprisingly nice.

"As much fun as it is to hover over you like this, Lysander, my knees are getting cold." And so was his back, she assumed. There were far more comfortable places to lay down tog-- Naniti worked on getting her feet back under her before her hand extended back down to help Lysander up. "If you deliberately pull me back down, I'll bury you in this lake," she warned him in case he was getting any humorous ideas.

She was totally going to pelt the back of his head with a snowball later. When he least expected it.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Sergeant Omen]

The way she said his name... in the sort of way that sent shivers down his spine, and made him think she was coming to come to skewer him... was enough to drive him wild. The Clone didn't know what it was; maybe it was the thrill it gave him to know he was being hunted... wanted by someone, but it always made his heart beat faster. Aren was coming, and that was enough to make him soar.

Aren would hear a quiet chuckle over the comms. "It's kinda hard to avoid walking towards you when you show how much you want me. And if I didn't have any charm, you wouldn't be here right now. And you can't say you are doing this against your will because we both know that isn't true. I'll see you soon, Love."

The Clone looked over to see Aren stopped beside him, looking at him with that same look that Engineers used when trying to dissect a machine. Guess she was still getting used to having somebody wait for her, even after a couple of months of them starting to go out. Giving her his "Really?" face as she sat down. "You do know I survive for days on end when you go to work, right? It shouldn't be such a big feat." Thankfully, in all her teasing, she didn't notice the paper bag he was hiding under his arm yet.

As she said, she was freezing; she would feel a knit hat slip over her head, and a scarf wrap around her neck. The bracelet hadn't been the only thing that Omen had bought, and both would have the same designs of different colored furred Loth-cats playing in the snow covering them. Maybe Aren would be too shocked by them to feel the bracelet being clasped around her wrist. "Happy Life Day Aren," was only Omen had to say, and she could tell the Clone meant it.

Looking at her all dolled up for the weather, the Old Republic Creation resisted the urge to pull her onto his lap and give her the body warmth she wanted. Omen knew it would only last a couple of seconds before she squirmed her way out of his grasp. "So... What did you want to do? I'm guessing skating isn't your thing, so that leaves a forest walk or looking around here. And if you just wanted to go back home, that's fine too. I maybe will even get a private cabin for us." Saying that last sentence with the right amount of seduction that was required, Omen hoped the Tech would want to stay around for a little bit. This was his first time on the Ice world, and he wanted to experience all its wonders while they both had a chance too.

Aren D'Shade

 

[Eurydice]

Before the girl could kick up a fuss, Varin draped his cloak over much smaller shoulders. Residual heat still clung to the fabric, and before she knew it, Eurydice was pulling the dark cloth tighter to her.

It felt...nice. Like what she imagined a hug to feel like, almost. When he offered his arm, she stammered and looked away. Touch was not her forte.

"O-oh, I-"

Eurydice's other hand occupied itself by gathering the dark fabric that dragged at her heels in the snow. "I don't want it to get dirty," she murmured. Walking with him was one thing, but taking his arm? That was something that she'd seen the courtly men and women of Ukatis doing. Such gestures were not meant for her.

"Your Master lets you wander?" There was an incredulous note there, but even Nefaron let Veradun go about his own business. The Nagai-turned-Sangnir was much further along in his training than she, and therein laid a spark of potential freedom.

Who knew how long it would be until Nefaron saw it fit to extend her leash, though.

"You must have done well under her tutelage for her to allow you such freedoms. Where have you traveled to?"

Only now did she notice that Varin had slowed his much wider stride to match her pace. It was a subtle, but thoughtful gesture. One that made the warmth enveloping her simmer a little brighter.

Dinner?

Since she'd arrived on Anoat, her meals had largely been taken alone. Eurydice was used to that, and the idea that she could be lonely had never crossed her mind. When was the last time she'd eaten among company? It took her a few long moments to recall the event Nefaron had her attend very early into her servitude. Veradun Sharr had been strangely decent towards her where he was usually antagonistic. Had he been mining for information then?

Was Varin doing the same now?

Eurydice hesitated in answering, but not for the reason he'd likely thought. Absently, she buried the lower half of her face into the nape of the cloak.

"I…would not be against sharing a meal," she admitted.

Because even if it was a ploy to exploit her or probe for information about her Master, Eurydice was lonely. If this was a trick, if his kindness was just a ruse to get her to trust him, then she'd let herself enjoy it for just a little bit longer.

Varin Mortifer

 

[Aren D'Shade]

Aren went still the moment the knit hat slid over her head. Not dramatic, not startled — just still, as though her body needed a split second to process the fact that someone had put something cute on her without warning. The scarf followed, and she blinked once, very slowly, like a predator realizing someone had draped tinsel over it.

And then she looked at him. It wasn't anger, not even close. It was the kind of silence that suggested the gears in her head were trying to compute whether this violated a treaty. "…Omen." Just his name — low, flat, carrying that particular weight she used when she didn't know whether to threaten him or pull him closer.

She lifted a hand, touched the edge of the hat, and pulled it down slightly to cover her ears. Her fingers brushed the embroidered Loth-cats playing in the snow. She didn't comment on it. She didn't have to. The faint, involuntary softening in her expression said enough — a shift so slight no one else would've noticed, but for Omen, it was unmistakable.

Then he clasped the bracelet around her wrist, and her posture changed again — not freezing this time, but quieting, the way she did when something caught her off guard in a way she couldn't immediately deflect.

She looked down at the delicate snowflake charm resting against her skin.

"…Happy Life Day," she murmured back, not looking at him yet — as though the words were easier to say to the bracelet than to his face.

After a moment, she sighed and leaned into his shoulder with the weight of someone who rarely allowed herself to relax, but who had decided, somehow, that this was safe enough to do so.

When he asked what she wanted to do, she finally looked up at him again — her eyes steady, thoughtful, and just a little amused at his seductive offer of a private cabin. "Skating," she said first, deadpan. "It's not happening. Unless you want to drag me across the ice like a malfunctioning droid." She allowed a beat of silence — and then added: "And the forest is full of people kissing under plants. If you take me there, I'll end up throwing someone into a snowbank. A faint exhale—her version of a laugh.

"So that leaves the stalls. And walking. And maybe getting something hot to drink before my face freezes off."

She nudged his knee with hers, subtle but unmistakably affectionate. "And if you behave…" her voice dropped just enough for him alone to catch the implication, "we can discuss your cabin idea later."

Only then did she tilt her head slightly, letting the hat slip low over her brow. "And stop smiling like that. I'm wearing this because it's warm." She was not wearing it at all because it was warm.

She stood, offering him her hand with the barest upward twitch at the corner of her mouth. "Come on. Before you buy something else covered in Loth-cats."

Sergeant Omen

 

[Varin Mortifer]

“It can wash. Besides, I can’t have you tripping in the snow, you will end up getting your outfit dirty. Just something to hold onto until we get to more stable ground.”

He chuckled lightly, keeping his arm offered to her in a small gesture. Yes he was a Sith, but his parents still raised him with some form of decorum and manners. The smaller steps did take some getting used to as they made their way closer to the Stalls. The sounds only getting a bit louder and the lights brighter. It stirred a light excitement in Varin, seeing such lights on trees and small vendors. It reminded him of some of the smaller villages on his planet. Humble living held together by rough work and calloused hands.

“Your Master lets you wander?”

He was quiet for a moment as he thought about the previous events, and the main reason why he wandered.

“She..Didn’t really have a choice in the matter.”

His voice softened, almost as if in mourning.

“She had to leave at one point for a bit, something really important came up, and when she didn’t return I assumed the worst. I thought she had fallen. So I traveled. I took up residence in an abandoned Ashlan Jedi temple where I slowly turned its lightside presence to darkness. A very…difficult time. All I could do was wander, because I felt lost. Truth be told, I don’t really remember a lot of that time.”

He took a slow breath as he thought about where he had been.

“I honestly did not travel that far. Not like my battle brother Lysander. He is definitely the one who has more travel under his feet. Something told me to stay on Korriban and explore more of the planet itself. So that is what I did, with some other planets sprinkled in like Dromund Kas and Jutrand.”

The sounds of people and the view of lights were upon them. As he looked around he heard her accept his offer for dinner. His eyes widened.

“Wow…I uh…That’s…thank you. I have never really dined with another person on another planet before. Point at whatever catches your eye first.”

His pulse quickened ever so slightly at her acceptance. He stumbled slightly as he had just remembered he would get her something warm to drink.

“Oh! There's a hot cider vendor over here. Have you ever had hot cider? It's something frequently practiced on my home planet, but they would ferment theirs.”

His gaze fell upon her again as a grin crept up on his face.

Eurydice | Revna Marr​

 

[Sergeant Omen]

Omen softly smiled as he watched her clam up, admiring her as she tried to comprehend why he was giving her these things. At least she wasn't protesting too much, or he had just stunned her into submission. The Clone took the chance to kiss her cheek when she wasn't expecting it. No words needed to be shared between them to tell him how much these gifts meant to her. He could already tell just from looking at her face.

The Clone kept the smile up as Aren went through their options. While seeing her trying to skate would be fun, he probably wouldn't be much better at it, and he didn't want to leave here injured and miss the fun on the ride home. Her denying the second option made Omen chuckle as he imagined what she was describing. "You make it sound like you want to burn the whole forest down. Hell, you might even be jealous that I'm not kissing you under the foliage." Bracing himself for her scoffing, he grunted as he stood up with his cold bones. "Finding a Hot Coco stand it is then."

The Clone only smirked as she tried to defend herself, looking at her and wondering if her ears were burning under that hat. His thigh rubbed against hers as Omen wryly commented. "Mhm, sure. It's not like you think it's cute at all. It would ruin your image." Letting her help him up off the hard picnic table's seats and starting to walk with her, Omen only had one question. "So... what are you planning to give to me for Life Day?" She probably had the answer in the deepest crevices of her mind, where he could never obtain it before it was time. Hopefully, his asking would ruin the chances of that night together, as this date was done.

Aren D'Shade

 

[Aren D'Shade]

Aren didn't answer him at first.

She kept pace beside him, hands tucked into her pockets, breath drifting pale in the Ilum air. Snow crunched under their boots in a steady rhythm, and for a few moments the cold, glittering world around them felt far louder than either of them were willing to be.

But Omen knew her rhythms by now—the way her silence wasn't avoidance, but a sharpening of thought. He could almost feel it, the subtle shift in her focus as she angled her head slightly, the faint crease forming between her brows.

She wasn't ignoring his question.

She was dissecting it.

"Your Life Day gift," she echoed, not mocking, not dismissive—just thoughtful, as though the words themselves had flipped a switch behind her eyes.

Her gaze drifted to him then. Not a soft, romantic glance—nothing so simple. It was the kind of look she used when evaluating a piece of machinery she planned to modify. A quiet sweep over his frame, lingering not on aesthetics but on hidden places: the joints that sometimes tensed in the cold, the arm that still didn't move with perfect fluidity when he was tired, the faint stiffness along his shoulder where old wiring met bone.

To anyone else, it would've looked like she was simply studying him.

Omen knew she was reading him like a blueprint.

And then—almost imperceptibly—the corner of her mouth shifted. A faint spark softened the severity of her expression, not quite a smile but something close enough to warm the icy air around them.

"You're easier to shop for than you think," she murmured.

His brow lifted, amused and intrigued, but she didn't elaborate. Instead she nudged her shoulder lightly against his, a quiet brush of warmth through layers of fabric.

"And you'll like what I have in mind."

That tone—calm, assured, just a shade too pleased with herself—made a slow heat unfurl in his chest. Aren didn't get that tone unless she'd already solved a problem before he knew it existed.

And Force help him, he loved her for it.

They walked another few steps before her hand slipped free from her pocket. She reached out—not for his hand, not for affection—and let her fingers glide across the inside of his wrist. Right over the scar he never talked about, where a Kaminoan neural regulator still interfaced just beneath the skin.

The touch was feather-light, gone almost before he processed it.

But the implication landed like a pulse of heat beneath his ribs.

Aren wasn't thinking about trinkets.
Or charm bracelets.
Or playful, sentimental gifts.

She was thinking in circuitry.
In skeletal reinforcement.
In neural conduction and modern wiring.
In fixing what the galaxy had never bothered to update.

A gift shaped with clinical precision…
and startling intimacy.

A gift from a woman who didn't express affection with words, but with a soldering iron and a vision of what he could become.

"Don't worry," she said, as though she hadn't just set his heart hammering, "I already know what you need."

And then—just like that—she pulled her hand back and nodded toward a vendor stand ahead where steam rose into the frigid air.

"Come on. Hot chocolate. Before your teeth start chattering."

It should have been a tease—but something in her eyes softened when she said it. Not out of pity, and not out of romance either. It was something steadier, more grounded. The kind of warmth she only ever allowed him to see when no one else was close enough to witness it.

The kind of warmth that told him, without a single word:

She wasn't planning a gift to impress him.
She was planning a gift to keep him alive.
To strengthen what had been broken long before she ever touched his life.
To rebuild the pieces of him with the same hands that could dismantle a starship engine in her sleep.

A gift no one else could give.
A gift only Aren would dare.

Omen felt the realization settle deep inside him, warming him more than the scarf around her neck ever could.

Whatever she was planning…
it wasn't small.
And it wasn't simple.

It was hers.
And it was for him.

And for a moment—just one—he let himself lean into the quiet miracle that someone like her wanted to build a future he could survive in.

Sergeant Omen

 

[Sergeant Omen]

Aren seemed to know him better than he knew himself. His arms were relics... Relics that hadn't been looked at by an expert in a long time. They were mostly functioning, sure, and Omen knew enough to keep them that way, but they still weren't 100% and especially weren't after his prison stay. Still, that look in her eye scared the nerf out of him. He only hoped she knew what she was doing before she touched his body.

Omen didn't nudge her shoulder back or move to hold her hand at this time, still trying to keep himself from wetting his pants. Because as much as he loved her, that look still shook him to his core whenever she looked at him like that. Maybe because the Clone didn't know what she wanted to change about him. Her talk about already knowing what he needed made him feel like one of the downtrodden people she picked off the street. And that really wasn't a good feeling...

Thankfully, they got to the Hot Coco stand, and Omen was able to relax somewhat as he paid for a mug for both of them. Trying to change the subject from whatever that strange moment was, the Clone asked a simple question as they sank into the snow. "So... Your work going alright? I know you had to finish up your current project quickly to get here." He wasn't asking for any details, just that she hadn't found a work husband while she was away.

As the two talked, Omen saw the flash of movement out of his eye and quickly pulled Aren close as some happy children of various species passed by, followed by their tired parents who quietly mouthed their apologies before carrying on. Omen smiled and waved, mouthing "No problem" before looking down at Aren as he let her go. "Sorry about that. Ready to keep going?" Hopefully, they could move somewhere they wouldn't be run over.

Aren D'Shade