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."

 

[Naniti]

For some reason she'd hoped for something more... personal. Naniti knew she shouldn't. A clinical assessment to help improve her technique was objectively the best outcome. But that just didn't feel like what she'd really wanted. And it was Lysander's fault! He caused it. He didn't answer her question the way she wanted (not that she knew what she wanted). And he should... do... something!

The Togruta bit down on the ham in an effort to keep her mouth busy. Don't interrupt. Don't say he should be talking about them together instead of how they fought. Listen to what he was saying. Really listen. Try!

Her expression lightened a bit, curious what he meant at being overwhelmed. In what way? An opponent with a matchless strength and ability? Despite her own desires, the idea he might mean being emotionally overwhelmed by his opponent didn't occur to her. He'd been talking about her form a second ago.

A short nod followed Lysander biting into his own ham. "Warm, savory, but with a sugary glaze for contrast." Still could have been cooked a little less, but she wouldn't complain about that again. Lysander knew her preference by now. Didn't he?

"In the arena. I knew I couldn't match the raw strength of my competitors, so I explored how to be more agile." Naniti paused to look out at the ice rink. "I didn't have a lot of time on ice, but hoverskates are even less forgiving. Actually, the ice held me back." A beat passed and then her blue eyes were turned back to Lysander. A soft throat clearing followed a thought. "Which was probably a good thing. I... lost control for a moment. It got a little too familiar. If it weren't for you saying we were focusing on Form II," the Togruta shrugged. The urge to go all out had taken hold of her earlier; a wild dance had filled her belly and set her blood ablaze with the desire to win.

She took a moment to bring the steaming caf to her lips for a slow sip. Her eyes lingered on the cup a moment longer than a drink ordinarily deserved; it was a full flavor with hints of sugar and some kind of spice. Helped to return some of the warmth back to her core that'd begun to cool since their spar concluded.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Varin Mortifer]

He looked at her at her first question and gave her a slight smirk and a nod, almost oblivious to her reaction.

His gaze turned more into curiosity when she mentioned Ukatis. Why would she go from Ukatis to Anoat? Perhaps taken and then sold as a slave at first? Its not exactly uncommon.

“That is quite a drastic change. From Ukatis to Anoat. Why did you decide to go there? Last I heard that planet is barely survivable to most. And, no offense, you do not strike me as one who would willingly stay there.”

He began to look over one of the menus that was sitting on the table, looking at the different drinks and items that were offered.

“That’s right. Everything eventually becomes dust and ash. Nothing lasts forever. Just as plants sprout, grow, bear fruit and seeds, they wither and die. Kingdoms rise and fall. It has happened since the very beginning, but in the end, it is all always reclaimed by The Force itself.”

He took a slow breath.

“Death is a necessity to life. Without it, life cannot feed.”

He cleared his throat as he caught himself begin to ramble.

“Does your master stay on Anoat?”

Eurydice​

 

[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 giggled at Tintinallë’s reaction, her blue-hued eyes lighting up with impish delight as her companion closed the distance. It was then that she was brought back into an intimate hold, at which point the assassin-priestess fell silent when the elleth asked about her skating abilities before speaking further on the tantalizing promise of the Siren’s Song. Her reaction was one of equal parts excitement and flustration, in which she batted her lashes while biting her lips.

“I learned ice skating as part of my training. I am a dancer.” Olyssandra replied, knowing that it was a half-truth. Nevertheless, dancing was a fundamental component of the martial art that she specialized in. “Kuati and Imperial ballet.” She clarified. Another half-truth.

“And I would be delighted to join in the Siren’s Song with you both! I expect there is also a...dance to it as well, yes?” Olyssandra added, a playful grin tugging at her features. “However, I must admit...” Her smile faded slightly then, even as she guided her companion in a slow, intimate spin on the ice. “I have never done such a thing before. I know that we Quendeshi have a need for bonding, no matter if it is romantic or platonic, in the same way that we also need air, water, and food. Unfortunately, where I am from, friendship of the depth I require is sometimes difficult and I am not allowed to keep a pet. I have stuffed animals and even a toy droid, but they do not adequately fill the need. And so, I resort to other means to fill it.”

She leaned into the glide, her next words flowing softly from her lips. “I throw myself into my dance training, but always with a partner. They always outmatch me and sometimes I am even embarrassed by it, because I am not a strong dancer. Not by professional standards, at least. Nevertheless, I still dance with them because I need the intimacy provided by the act.” A tentative smile touched her lips as she finished, her shoulders easing as if unburdened by the confession.

“That said, I do not expect that you will fully comprehend my meaning, as I can not tell you everything that I do. I am simply…happy that you are someone I can share this with and who might understand!” Olyssandra’s smile widened then, at which point—should Tintinallë allow her—she deepened the embrace, wrapping her arms around the other elleth as they drifted together along the ice.

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

Lysander glanced down at the skewer in hand, turning it slowly between his fingers. The glaze caught the lightning from a lantern. A corner of his mouth lifted before realizing it, an unconscious thing it so often was. That was.. it? Well, he’d expected more.. bracing for a full report. Naniti was rather meticulous with her opinions on food. Nothing escaped notice. Not a bad thing, really. The Wheel slipped into his thoughts without asking too, remembering when she’d dismantled the food court’s flavors. Brief as that moment was.. the shared experience was a memory he found himself holding onto.

Another bite was taken; the meat cracked beneath his teeth. Heat bloomed as his jaw worked lazily. When the Togruta mentioned the arena, Lysander leaned in without even meaning to. Both forearms rested against the table. The caf sat below him, steam coming upward, carrying the spice. He breathed it in slowly. What she offered wasn’t a lot of information.. but it was something. None of those pieces were ever offered so freely. Drawing them out of her never seemed to come easily.. which made it all the nicer.

His emerald eyes met the blue of hers. “That’s okay. The ice alone is a challenge. Add skates, unfamiliar footing.. that’s a lot to manage at once."

Fingers circled the caf again, thumb brushing the rim. “It’s better we let the mistakes happen in training instead of the real thing. That’s the point, after all, right? So we can learn where those lines are.. before someone else decides for us.”

Lifting the cup, he took a small sip before lowering it again. “I’m always open to training Form II.” The hint of a smile emerged. “It's always been my favorite. Outlasting someone's impatience has always been.. kind of appealing.” A slow exhale through his nose. “I fenced on Ukatis for many years at my academy, and most days it was all about repetition. Advance and retreat. Lunge.. then reset. Over and over until it became habit. Hours on footwork with only lines on the floor and my instructors not bothering to hide their disappointment in my wobbling.”

The memories filtered through. “They didn’t care so much about winning exchanges as they did about where our feet landed. We drilled distance before speed. If we couldn’t measure the steps correctly, then we weren’t allowed to advance. That's no different than Makashi. If our stance collapses, then everything else follow. So yeah, the hardest part is learning control.”

Years later, he was still guilty to that edge; it had a way of feeling like home.. for better or worse.

Amusement softened his features. “I’d like to try hoverskating someday. With you. It sounds like one of those potentially dangerous activities best attempted in good company.”

 

[Naniti]

Naniti wasn't sure what to say. Admitting her weaknesses aloud was... uncomfortable. Learn where her lines were? She was fairly certain she knew already, but it didn't help her deal with it any better. Maybe she should be more straightforward with Lysander about it. Tell him. It was something she needed work on badly, but to admit it... what if someone heard and used it against her?

Then Lysander spoke of Form II and outlasting the adversary's patience. How footing and distance came before speed. Well, Naniti understood, but she had tried for speed at the end since using his unstable stance along hadn't worked. Maybe he had outlasted her "patience." Though she didn't really think it was impatience that got to her in the end. Overly competitive, maybe. Embarrassing to think he was someone she wanted to beat, and she'd lost control trying to get it at any cost, which wouldn't be terribly satisfying in the end.

"Break fewer bones that way," Naniti replied with mild amusement at his interest in hoverskating.

"Lysander," the Togruta paused, eyes downcast for a moment, "you know... you could ask. If you're waiting on me to volunteer something... I'm just not good at that. I've been taught how to kill well enough, but not how to just talk. Not about things that aren't battle and power, anyway. So, if you want to know something..." Even saying that much took a lot out of her. Naniti would be happier not to talk about it at all even if it was the single most important thing she could ever do.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

The skewer was placed aside momentarily, becoming mindful of what Naniti just placed between them. Leaning forward, one arm braced against the table while another found the cup, fingers curling around it and nudging it further back. Plus.. it gave his hands purpose while his thoughts worked themselves into order, something he could trust, a way that would not ask for more. Polished reassurances for one of his background was too easy; he had no interest in those. And the vulnerability in her voice wasn’t something he took lightly. It was recognized because in truth, he occupied a similar space often, except Lysander shaped it differently.

“I wasn’t really looking for you to volunteer anything. If there is something you want to share.. then I’m happy to listen. If there isn't, that is okay too.”

Then his hands lifted and met the side of his cheek, before his face rested against them. His gaze dropped to a small place on the surface of the table between them. For a few seconds.. that was where it stayed. It was there his own exposure was recognized; not discomfort, but.. an awareness he couldn’t ignore now.. strange how it arrived so calmly.

After that, his eyes found her again.

“I.. just wanted to be clear.. and thought it might help you understand. That’s all.”

Sure, many knew his name, and the version of himself that was easy to read. One that was also very difficult to reach. It had worked too well, perhaps. Because most people knew who he was supposed to be. No one ever really wondered who he was when nothing was demanded of him through the Covenant and beyond. The impulse had been small, a careful one, but still there, to offer her something more real of his past. Just a truth as shared time together deepened recently.

“I’m not asking for anything from you.”

There was a breath, then another. The word Lysander needed was not one used often, nor did it come naturally.. but he let it surface.

"Naniti.. I'm just glad you chose to come. I've had fun out here with you."

 

[Eurydice]

Eurydice opted to remain quiet instead of answering his first question, letting a thoughtful silence settle between them as Varin started to look over a menu. She copied his motions, flipping a laminated page. Her eyes glazed over the pictures of food and their accompanied descriptions.

"Death is inevitable," she agreed softly and without complaint. "But it is as natural as life. Why does it all have to end with dust and ash?"

There was a field on Ukatis that had been burned during the Sith incursion. The ash left behind had enriched the soil, acidifying it for a crop of grapes. Now, earth that was once barren produced wine.

Nothing much grew on Anoat, foul as the world was.

Does your master stay on Anoat?

It was now when Eurydice recognized that, in mentioning Anoat, she'd made a mistake. It wasn't a populous world, nor was it a desirable one. It was a fortress of rot and despair, governed by one man. The only families that lived there were those huddled together in the slave pits. No one went there voluntarily, and no one left without Nefaron's permission.

"Yes," she answered simply. "I was procured during my Master's raid on Ukatis."

There was no bitter tinge to her words, her tone strangely conversational. Maybe she was hiding her sorrow – or maybe, she'd grown used to being used as a tool. Eurydice took a sip of cider, letting the tart notes linger on her tongue.

"Where are you from, if I may ask? I've never seen someone quite as tall as you." Not even the royal knights, who often boasted some of the largest physiques on Ukatis.

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

“Nothing stays vibrant and full of life forever. Eventually all things decay. The only constant in this world is ash and dust. It will outlive all of us.”

His eyes fell on her again. A strange word to use. Procured. A nice way of saying taken. But taking an apprentice was really common amongst Sith. Even the Jedi do it too, usually asking nicely first. If they refuse, it's likely they just use their cowardice Jedi mind tricks, too spineless to take them themselves.

Well…most of them. A few of them would rather cut down any they view as “Sith” instead of doing thorough investigations. He realised he had trailed off in his head a bit when her question came up.

A quiet exhale left his lips as he put the menu down.

“Thats…uh…thats complicated.”

He started off, and was ready to explain why he was not going to tell her, but she did tell him of her origin. Fair was fair.

“I uh….I’m from a planet that had been well hidden for hundreds of years.”

He tapped his finger on the menu, as if he were somewhat nervous.

“Carcosa. Most of our technological advances are severely lacking compared to most of the galaxy, even some of the poorer ones. But only most of our tech is that way. We believed true manual labor bred a stronger people, ones who were not dependant on mundane tools to make the jobs so easy we wouldn’t have to do it. If we needed wood, we cut it. If we hunted an animal we butchered it with our knives. Most of our transportation was on the backs of animals.”

He paused as he thought of his home.

“But our military. That's where our real tech was used. My father, The King, Lord Mortifer was upwards of eight feet tall.”

He sighed deep.

“But I can’t return for now.”

Eurydice​

 

[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

Hyartë tensed just a moment as Tintinallë moved towards Olyssandra. They really had no idea what their date's life was. Hyartë heard the giggle coming from Tintin and knew there was no malice, but a trained warrior…But Olyssandra accepted Tintinallë's newest embrace. Tintinallë listened holding on as Olyssandra stated that ice skating was close enough to dancing that she could translate the movements between activities. Tintinallë's mind drifted imagining Olyssandra in a cute ballet costume.

"I suppose there is a good deal of dancing that goes along with the song," Tintinallë finished the thoughts about the Siren's Song. Again her thoughts roamed away from the ice rink. She still held on to Olyssandra's waist and knew that there was no danger of something going awry even if her attention was elsewhere. Her balance was instinctive, as was her navigation. If an obstacle appeared in her way the Force would tell her to avoid it.

Tintinallë expression changed into a frown just as Olyssandra's did. Tintin wondered what it was that Olyssandra would admit, and why it had changed the aura of her new friend. Tintinallë hugged tightly as she felt the spin taking place. She moved her feet on instinct, but her focus remained on Olyssandra waiting for an explanation for the frown. There was nothing Olyssandra could say that would change Tintinallë's intentions to form a new bond.

Tintinallë gave a confused look when Olyssandra said she "had never done this" before. Tintinallë had so much in mind to do, so the possibilities were sort of endless. Her hand gave a gentle rub to the small of Olyssandra's back waiting for more. The concept of isolation for a Quendesh was not something Tintinallë could fathom. She instantly felt sorry for Olyssandra, even with the presence of a droid.

Tintinallë's hand moved from around Olyssandra's waist, along her side, then cupped Olyssandra's cheek. Tintin locked eyes with Olyssandra as she explained that dance practice was attempted to fill the hole made by a lack of personal interaction. Olyssandra managed a meek smile and that made Tintinallë hum pleasantly. Tintinallë was glad to hear that she was not expected to comprehend Olyssandra's loneliness. "Hyartë and I are lucky. We both felt the pull to leave our conclave. We could do so together. I hope to understand your situation in time…" Olyssandra continued stating that she couldn't say all that she did to fill the void of loneliness. Tintinallë nodded as she was pulled into a tighter embrace.

Tintinallë leaned forward and kissed Olyssandra lightly on the cheek. She wanted to do more, but the admission of loneliness made Tintin move a little slower. "You have found us now. Olyssandra. You don't need to settle for stiff dance partners any longer when you yearn for contact. Even now before we share song and dance you are a bondmate. If you need me, I will come." Her lips moved slightly and she kissed the corner of Olyssandra's mouth. A soft guttural sound of need came from Tintinallë as she held back the urge to drag Olyssandra off the ice to somewhere private.

 

[Naniti]

"I appreciate that. You know," Naniti glanced to either side out of habit and a flicker of insecurity of someone listening in, "we don't often talk about... where we came from. So, really, I like hearing about Ukatis. What you were taught." The Togruta paused to chuckle. "I wasn't taught how to fence, but footing, balance, we did that. Those that failed to learn suffered the most." A finger stabbed back at him. "And I'll have you know, Mister Makashi, I've trained more on balance than most Acolytes do their whole lives." Her words were never harsh or sharp; if anything the violet woman's voice had a whimsical color to it.

A nod accompanied Lysander saying he wasn't asking anything from her. Though a part of her wished he would. Maybe they both had the same problem of not knowing where to begin? What the other really would want to hear? Though, honestly, anything would do. And... that was probably the same for him, but he should start the conversation! Or maybe it was enough if he listened.

She perked up a bit as he expressed gratitude at her coming. Fun...? It... had been fun? Naniti hadn't associated the act with a word until then, but it did seem to fit. Her lips parted slightly before they closed and the Togruta just smiled for a moment. "It really was, wasn't it? Ah," a brief chuckle, "including going full tilt toward the end there." He'd weathered the bullet-train run, which was pretty impressive given he'd been struggling to stay upright until that point. "We should do things like that more often. Training in different environments, I mean." Not trying to seriously lay into Lysander. Though that was a different sort of training -- one with extreme stakes.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

Lysander’s hands were still folded as his cheek rested against them. An unconscious choice, really. A glance followed the line of her finger. When he looked back up at her, green narrowed just a touch. Curious and amused.. he found himself feeling many things all at once as they sat there together.

“Your balance isn’t..” The words hesitated, smiling to themselves. “.. well. It’s not terrible.”

An understatement, for sure. The Togruta’s balance was excellent, capable of holding when everything else went sideways.

Even with the invitation, he was gentler than before. Just a quiet effort to not rush or crowd Naniti. He finally lowered a hand, fingers uncurling as he reached for the caf. A small sip was taken before glancing back to her. The flavor had mellowed as it cooled; it was still unfamiliar, but not so sharp. The heat lingered in his mouth before swallowing, and steam brushed his face.

“How did you train it? Was it a lot of drills.. or more situational? What did it look like?”

A breathy laugh was earned from her jab. Mr. Makashi?

“What if it’s more Mister Djem So these days?” he countered. “I’ve noticed a lot of negotiations are simply.. off the table these days..”

With Naniti he was more comfortable though recently. A thought he might dissect later.

The mention of Ukatis always had a way of softening his expression; memories of his homeworld were usually safe to touch.

“Ukatis isn’t as advanced as people might think. Some folk still rely on animals for transport. They always have.” Lysander’s eyes were noticeably brighter. “I’ve still got a horse back home too. Her name is Nari..”

Something in him eased as he sat there, the heat of caf in his palm. Happy wasn’t a word he reached for often, but the feeling was brushing close enough that he wouldn’t bother to push it away..

Maybe it would be easier to find footing on some of these things when not done alone. More thoughts were slowing catching up with him. “I’d like that.. a lot. Maybe sand. Moving platforms. Somewhere with uneven gravity just to keep things exciting.. or makes it feels like it resents you. As long as crashing into you doesn’t become some required technique.”

Warmth crept up his neck and the tip of his ears.

“I’m not really trained for that kind of recovery. None of my instructors really prepared me for that.”