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

[Aren D'Shade]

Aren didn't interrupt him when he corrected her. She listened all the way through, eyes steady on his face, posture still, the way she always was when she was actually taking something in instead of preparing a rebuttal. When he finished, when the explanation settled between them, she let out a slow breath through her nose—not annoyed, not defensive, just… acknowledging.

"That's fair," she said at last, voice even. "And you're not wrong."

Her gaze shifted briefly, thoughtful rather than evasive. "I do control my surroundings. I have to. Things break when I don't. People get hurt. Systems fail." A pause, then quieter, more honest. "It's easier to manage variables than it is to trust them."

She looked back at him then, one brow lifting slightly. "That doesn't mean I think everyone needs to be controlled. It means I'm bad at improvising when I care about the outcome." A faint huff of something that might have been amusement followed. "You just happen to be very… improvisational."

His kiss caught her a little off guard—not enough to make her pull away, but enough that the corner of her mouth softened afterward despite herself. She didn't comment on the admiration outright, just let her thumb hook briefly at his belt as if grounding herself there.

"Impossible," she repeated dryly. "Yes. I noticed."

When he reacted to the crystal the way he did—careful, reverent, genuinely checking its authenticity—something in her expression eased. She hadn't picked it for spectacle. She'd picked it because she knew he'd understand what it was without needing it explained, and the way he held it told her she'd been right.

At his comment about the arms, she snorted softly. "No lightsaber claws," she said. "Tempting, but no. I was talking about articulation, clearance, and range of motion. Your current housing catches on to things they shouldn't. New ones won't." A beat. "Including me."

She let him pull her in without resistance, resting her forehead briefly against his chest. His warmth was familiar, grounding, and she stayed there a moment before answering his last question.

"I'm done freezing," she said plainly, glancing toward the cavern entrance and then back up at him. "I've seen what I wanted to see. I got you what I came here for." Her hand closed lightly around his wrist. "And I'd rather leave while this is still a good memory instead of pushing it until we're both miserable."

A pause—then, quieter, just for him:

"And if 'blowing the pop stand' means somewhere warm, with food, and no crowds?" The corner of her mouth curved again, subtle but real. "I'm very on board with that plan."

She stepped back just enough to meet his eyes, steady and certain.

"Lead the way, clone. Before I change my mind."

Sergeant Omen

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

It was kind of like a spark catching dry kindling when he saw Naniti's smirk. So, his own mouth suddenly curved without permission. In the past, that usually meant he lost some type of argument. But this was different. Contagious, really. Lysander’s head tilted as though he were seriously reconsidering the math. Green eyes slid back to her. “A fair correction. I was just.. operating on optimism? You’re clearly working with superior data.”

By the time they reached the counter, the cold was working its way through the layers. And his focus too. He listened as she ordered, brows lifting slightly. Caf with implications. Lysander’s mind spiraled through a long series of interpretations, like his brain was totally determined to ruin it for him. Too sweet. Too bitter. Both? Maybe medicinal. Maybe something local designed to teach offworlders a lesson!

Afterwards, he accepted the cup, warmth seeping into his palms. It felt nice. He lifted it too, but not to drink.. but to smell it. Curious loth-cat engaged. Steam curled upward, carrying something unfamiliar. That wasn’t to say it was unpleasant.. just.. loaded?

“Hm,” he murmured, “It smells like a decision I’ll stand by.” Better than saying it smelled like something about to teach him a lesson.

His grip adjusted on the ham as he angled away from the counter, moving toward a nearby table. Lysander set the caf down, one hand wrapped around it.

Naniti's question wasn’t answered right away. Gaze drifting back to the rink, he watched some of the skaters pass. The ground didn’t quite behave the same for him. His balance had been.. adequate at best. Form II he understood. Ice.. less so.

“I was thinking in Makashi. But.. moving like a beginner.” Amusement ghosted across his expression. “My footing was.. ambitious. That was an interesting combination for sure. And.. I think you could’ve pressed the advantage on a few occasions.”

Fingers flexed around the cup. “But you controlled the exchanges well and kept it inside the form. That tells me you understand it properly.”

He leaned back a fraction. “I don’t mind being outmatched,” he admitted. “I mind.. being overwhelmed.”

There had been more to the sentence; he realized it only when he didn’t say it..

“So yeah..” after a moment. “We did well.”

Lysander didn’t bother trying to hide the warmth in his expression. “You did better, Naniti.” He bit into the ham, blinked once, then gave a more thoughtful chew. “Alright. This was a good call.” Warmth was finally reaching his fingers again. "You looked comfortable out there. Where'd you learn to skate?"

 

[Sergeant Omen]

He couldn't help but smirk as Aren admitted her faults. Yes, she was a stick-in-the-mud sometimes, but he still loved her despite it. "Aka, I'm good at adjusting my ways to love you better. We are very different, so we filled in each other's weak spots. And I wouldn't want to be paired off with anyone else." The kiss would tell her that he meant it, and as she hooked onto his body, the Clone hoped this moment would never end.

Omen only shook his head and looked mock-asperated as her voice sounded like its usual desert tone. "Just for your enjoyment, Love." As he looked through the crystal, though, he seemed more and more impressed with her and her find. The Clone didn't think she would have an eye for minerals, but apparently, she had them in abundance.

Well, that cleared that up. "Sorry, you know how I get when you use big words together... But all of that sounds like good things, especially the part involving you." He was half-disappointed that he wouldn't be receiving laser claws, though. Those would have been cool to see. Thankfully, having her close made up for the feeling with the love she gave him.

When she said she was done, Omen leaned in to whisper his master plan teasingly in her ear. "How about this then. We see if we can find an Inn for the night. After we get settled and get your tummy filled up, we see if we can find a hot spring to bathe in. You get warm, I get to see you in a cute swimsuit, we all win." At her orders for him to lead her out, he let out a playful sigh and shook his head like he was disappointed in her. "Yes, Ma'am. Do you want me to carry you on my shoulders, too? So you don't have to walk?" Either way, he started holding her hand and walking them out of the cave, looking forward to spending some more quality time with her.

Aren D'Shade

 

[Kito]

//: Valaine Valentine //:

It was almost a perfect recreation of when they had first met; only now the roles were reversed. Kito had caught Valaine before she could fall back and crack her head against the unforgiving surface of Malachor V. The moment had burned itself into Kito's mind, a fond memory, and the instant she had fully realized just how beautiful the Sangnir truly was.

Now they glided together, and Kito felt her face warm — not from her own internal heat, but from a twinge of embarrassment mixed with the quiet enjoyment of being caught by Valaine instead.

The shock on her face softened into a sheepish smile as she righted herself with her partner's help. She hadn't expected the ice to be so slippery, a miscalculation as she was far too distracted on other things. One hand patted at her side, checking that her small gift was still secure. Satisfied, and with Valaine keeping her upright, Kito let out a soft chuckle.

"Steady~ You'll melt right through the floor if you fell over..."

"I think I'm a better swimmer than I am a skater," she admitted lightly. Her embarrassment faded as she joked, the image of falling through the ice and instantly melting it away flashing through her mind. It was a ridiculous thought — though not entirely impossible. She could already feel flecks of snow melting as they brushed against her skin.

Slowly, she felt the absence of Valaine's hands. They had been cooler than her own body, but she had welcomed the contrast. A flicker of worry surfaced as Valaine drifted back. The cold was real, and Kito couldn't warm her instantly if she moved too far away.

But Valaine knew her well. She turned the moment into a challenge, a goal set just out of reach. As Valaine glided backward, Kito slowed to a stop and steadied herself on the ice. A small victory, but a victory all the same. Hearing her words lit a spark in the Shaper's chest. If she figured this out, she could catch up. She could retake her hands. Things would be right.

The challenge sharpened her focus. Kito found her balance, awkward at first, but determined. She wasn't as graceful as Valaine, but with a few careful pushes, she managed to glide forward and catch the Sangnir's hand — settling into a stride that was clumsy, but functional.

After a few more passes, her confidence grew. She held Valaine's hand now because she wanted to, not because she needed it to stay upright. She let the warmth of her touch bleed into the Sangnir's fingers as they turned with the crowd. When they paused, Kito gave a gentle tug, drawing Valaine closer. She lifted her hands to cup the woman's face, noticing the red at the tip of her nose against pale skin and stormy grey eyes.

"Let me warm you up," Kito murmured. Her thumbs brushed slow, gentle arcs along Valaine's cheeks.

"Better?" she asked, smirking faintly. "I thought you said you'd never skated before… you're beautiful on the ice. A natural."

 

[Olyssandra]

Location: Ice Skating Cave - Ilum
Attire: Jumpsuit
Notable Equipment and Effects: Midnight Harmony (2)
Thread Objective: He was a Skater Boi and I was a Skater Gurl!
Tag: Tintinallë Nyxara Hyartë Vaelune

Olyssandra felt her cheeks go flush with heat as Tintinallë skated in front of her. She smiled at the display of ice skating skill as the blue-haired elleth glided backwards, her eyes lighting up with equal parts awe and excitement. However, before she could fully decipher her intentions, the elleth reached out an arm to draw her in close, pulling their bodies into an intimate dance hold that coaxed a girlish squeak from the assassin’s heart-shaped lips!

From there, Tintinallë pressed her lips up against a pointed ear, momentarily silencing the assassin with enticing whispers that painted visions of rituals too shocking for public contemplation. Although she had spent most of her life cloistered in the Sanctum of the Shikkari in the Sith Citadel, Olyssandra was not innocent. She immediately understood her meaning, to which she offered a playful giggle in turn.

“So you are ritualists, then.” Olyssandra commented in a tone akin to a silken melody. “Or perhaps...singers of the Siren’s Song!” She added, a coy grin teasing her lips. “I might like to hear it sung, at some point~” She purred.

And without warning, Olyssandra spun away in a graceful pirouette, her blades tracing chiming arcs across the ice. Then, as she came back around to face Tintinallë, she extended a delicate arm towards her in invitation. Whether the other elleth accepted it or not, she pulled away again, a smile dancing upon her lips. Then, she launched into a series of quick, waltzing steps. A hop, a twirl, and then a sudden stop that sent a fine spray of ice dust towards her companion!

 

[Eurydice]

As Varin fumbled with his words, Eurydice smiled. It was subtle and sad, the sort of aspect one wore in quiet amusement - and it reached her eyes, however faintly.

Expressions of humanity had been rare once she began living on Anoat. She hadn’t expected for it to make her feel warm.

"No, you were right the first time." Both hands clasped around the cup, she rolled the glass between her palms before adding: "Er, both times."

Eurydice peered down into the deep amber surface of the cider, her reflection washed in copper tones. "There were festivals like this where I grew up, but I never participated to this extent." Her head lifted to look at Varin, now. "We did drink wine on Life Day, though."

She watched Varin tilt his cup over the edge of the table, a solitary drop plinking into the snow.

"I could eat," she admitted while pushing her own cup toward him in a silent gesture. "What do you suggest?"

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

Varin’s eyes widened as he just processed her previous question. He palmed his forehead as he sighed.

“I just processed your previous question. About Ilum and the Alliance. The truth is, at least for me, is I’m not entirely sure. I haven’t really gotten to far in the what belongs to who, because in reality, nothing belongs to anyone. It all is reduced to dust and ash eventually.”

He watched her with a curious look in his eye as she rolled the glass between her palms.

He then looked around as she put her cup down.

“That’s an excellent question really. Looks like this event has most of the basics, almost carnival like if you ask me. Everything is either deep fried or candied, you may find a roasted leg or so.”

He cleared his throat a bit.

“I tend to cook quite a bit when I’m on my own, but I have long since practically turned off my taste buds. Eating questionable things tends to have you do that especially when living off of rations.”

He leaned back in his chair, thinking of what he could have.

“Truth be told I would like to see you surprise me on something.”

He looked at her as he waited on her to decide.

“Where are you from? If I may ask.”

Eurydice​

 

[Eurydice]

Eurydice nodded slowly - it was fine that Varin wasn't sure which jurisdiction Ilum fell under, but something else he said caught her by surprise.

“I haven’t really gotten to far in the what belongs to who, because in reality, nothing belongs to anyone. It all is reduced to dust and ash eventually.”

"P-Pardon? Dust and ash?"

As far as she understood it - which wasn't very far - most Sith seemed preoccupied with controlling the galaxy, rather than destroying it.

Perhaps destruction was a form of control? Or an emotional backlash against something that had hurt them?

Now that she thought about it, Eurydice didn't know what to do with the galaxy. She only wanted to survive it.

She drew cup closer to her chest, finding some faint comfort in its bleeding warmth. "I am from Ukatis. It's a small agriworld in the mid rim." Another sip was followed by a few quiet moments as she nursed the spiced drink. "I cook, too. Not since I came to Anoat, but on Ukatis, we prepared our own meals."

The Seers had learned to feed and mend themselves, largely independent of outside assistance. Nothing fancy, everything spartan. They lived cloistered, bleak lives. Even the taste of something as simple as cider was a revelation.

Eurydice wasn't sure what she wanted to eat, given that the choice had never been her own. While she thought on that, a pressing question rose to the surface.

"What do you mean that everything will be reduced to dust and ash…?"

Varin Mortifer

 

[Tintinallë Nyxara]

Objective: Zinder Skate Date
Location: Ice Crystal Cave, Ilum
Outfit: Cute Winter Attire
Accompanied by: Hyartë Vaelune
Hyartë's Outfit: Hunter Outfit with fur cape and boots
Tags: Olyssandra

Tintinallë giggled at being called a ritualist. Not that it was not an accurate description, but the Quendesh that Tintinallë and Hyartë grew up with didn't really consider them rituals. It was just a way of life that happened to please the goddess that they worshipped. For Tintinallë and Hyartë their worship of Lyshara was a mix. When starting a new mission the duo locked themselves in quarters and performed rituals for good fortune. When they met new people however, they did not pursue bonds merely to please Lyshara, but because that was how they were.

Tintinallë was quite pleased that Olyssandra was interested in the Siren's Song. She grinned from ear to ear. She was about to respond when Olyssandra spun out of Tintinallë's hold and started in a very graceful dance. Tintinallë bit her lower lip as she watched. The act of moving straight, navigating quick turns, moving backwards or side to side came with quick instinct to Tintinallë. But these movements that Olyssandra was performing were surprising.

When Olyssandra offered her hand Tintin reached out to grab it but found it pulled away at the last moment. A momentary stumble was followed by flailing of Tintinallë's arms resulting in Tintin finally regaining her balance and giggling as she chased after Olyssandra. She was able to watch all of the dancing assassin's acrobatics. It was again quite impressive. Then Olyssandra was heading her way. Tintinallë braced herself for a collision, not sure what Olyssandra's intent was. Then the other Quendesh came to an abrupt stop, ice spray from her skates up all over Tintinallë. "Why you!" Tintinallë giggled as she closed the distance between them. She hugged onto Olyssandra. "That was some impressive skating. Where did you learn that? And about the Siren's Song. You can listen all you like. Hyratë and I don't mind an audience. It pleases Lyshara. But at some point we will expect you to add your own voice…"

Hyratë now had her skates on, but she waited at the edge of the ice. She watched, leaning against the railing, as Tintinallë and Olyssandra playfully became acquainted. A part of the hunter was jealous at how easily Tintinallë brought others in. Hyratë had a tendency to act too aggressively. In social situations it had been a bit of a routine for Tintinallë to initiate bonds and then bring Hyratë in. It was hard to watch from the sidelines for someone who was very competitive. But the chance to bond with another Quendesh was an oddity without returning home. "Tintin will call me in soon. They are very good at skating though. It doesn't look like my thing. I'll let them have a little fun." When Tintin nearly fell after Olyssandra's trick, Hyartë had to hold tightly to the railing to avoid falling herself as she laughed. "Olyssandra seems to be able to tease just as well as Tintin does."