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Makiro
I have to say, you always do come up with the most interesting posts, Makiro. Thanks - assuming the word ?interesting? wasn?t meant sarcastically, of course.
404 posts
1 like
I can has first Galactic Empirez, for safes and sekyur sossi... soca... pplz?
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last online Jul 15, 2010 16:48:09 GMT -5
Knight
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Mar 6, 2010 18:46:24 GMT -5
Post by Makiro on Mar 6, 2010 18:46:24 GMT -5
Nestled amongst the foothills of a rugged, wooded mountain range in Naboo’s Lake Country lay a sprawling, green-roofed villa. Beautifully tended gardens clung sumptuously to the house’s many verandas and balconies and a perfectly manicured lawn flowed down towards the pristine waters of a placid lake. The smell of flowers and fruits drifted on the cool evening breeze as the sun sank slowly behind swathes of silken clouds, stained orange in the star’s dying light. In the tallest of the villa’s many golden turrets, Avirod Escara – or Prince Sarala of Keren, Ambassador for High King Benadu of Naboo, as he was more formally known – checked his hair in the mirror for the umpteenth time, and sat down heavily on the edge of his ornately carved bed. The sumptuous blue silk sheets felt comfortingly cool, even through the thick velvet of his formal robes, and Avi had to fight hard to keep his eyes from drifting shut. A chill breeze blew in from the floor-to-ceiling windows arrayed around the semi-circular room, which had been flung wide open earlier on to cool the mug of a humid Nabooan summer. Avi yawned widely and watched the silk curtains of the windows directly in front of him flutter hypnotically in the breeze, fighting the urge to fall into a much-needed sleep. Then again, where was the harm in… A sharp knock at the door roused him from his brief slumber, and Avi, now feeling worse than he had before he had drifted off, scrambled to his feet. Enter! He called. A servant, not much older than Avirod himself and clad in the turquoise and yellow livery of the Escara Family, hurried into the room with a large pile of flimsiwork, his feet making no sound on the thick blue carpet. Your Excellency, he said, bowing deeply, I have the flimsies you requested.Avirod motioned to a desk on the far side of his bedchamber, and sat down once more on the edge of his bed. He would certainly be glad when his ship had been prepared and they were on their way to Onderon. Oh, and Ifan? He called, as the blonde-haired servant bowed out of the room, Bring me a pot of stimcaf, would you?At once, Sir.Waiting a few moments to gather his thoughts, Avi rose from the bed and made his way over to his desk, breathing in the perfumed aroma of the evening air. Picking up the first hair-thin sheet of flimsiplast, Avi glanced at it. It seemed to be nothing more than a factfile on Onderon, no doubt filled with facts he, as a seventeen year old ambassador, was expected to learn during his voyage to the same. Glancing down the list, Avi yawned as he scanned over some of the information; it was nothing interesting, just planetary coordinates, heads-of-state (present and past), major settlements (of which there seemed only to be one), a brief history et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. Avi was just about to place the flimsi back on the desk when he caught sight of something far more interesting. There was an Onderonian princess, and, what was more, she was only two years older than him! Sali Hyria it said her name was, and come to think of it, Avirod was sure he had heard that name mentioned before. Well, perhaps this trip was not going to be quite so boring as he had expected! There came a sharp knock at the door – Ifan, returned with the stimcaf – and Avi dropped the flimsi back onto his desk. If the blonde-haired servant noticed Avi’s reddening cheeks, he showed no sign of it, and placed the silver stim-service onto an ornate sideboard. Thank you, Ifan. That will be all. Said Avi. Oh, but be sure to notify me thirty minutes before departure, please.Very good, Sir.The servant bowed deeply and backed out of the room, closing the door behind him. ******* Staring out at the swirling maelstrom of Hyperspace was supposedly enough to make a man mad. Avirod, however, thought it looked quite pretty. As the Republic-liveried Hammerhead Cruiser streaked through the dreamlike tunnel of Hyperspace, the young prince tried desperately not to remember the fact that he was, in fact, looking out upon an alternate universe, in which the normal laws of time and space did not apply, and tried simply to treat the undulating shapes outside his window as the single most spectacular work of art in the Universe – or outside of it, as the case might have been. Returning to the small desk, wedged into the corner of what was supposedly the RSS Horizon’s “stateroom”, Avi looked once more at the pile of flimsiplasts with which he had been presented what seemed like an age ago. He understood what his mission was; a simple diplomatic visit to the Inner Rim world of Onderon to strengthen ties between the Royal Houses of Thyria and Escara – extranabooan relationships not being something the previous monarch had much cared for. He knew a lot was weighted on this mission, but having read the Onderonian factfile, he hoped that the Onderonian city-dwellers would be eager to make friends; allies in the fight against the savage beast riders. Avirod had never visited Onderon, but he had seen holovids of her impressive walled capital, Iziz, and had read many books about her history – including accounts of Darth Revan’s visit to the world over three hundred years ago, before Avi’s ancestor’s had even colonised the verdant paradise of Naboo. Outside the window, the purple whirlwind of hyperspace suddenly clarified. Stars stretched out of the ether and then shrunk to the sparkling pinpricks of light Avi found so beautiful. There was something about seeing the Galaxy from a new world that always sent a thrill of excitement coursing through the young Prince’s veins. The way the stars and the nebulae hung differently in the velvet void stirred some primal urge to explore and to discover, and the promise of a world full of new sights and sounds and smells made him almost dizzy with anticipation. The intercom pinged and a crackly voice drifted into the cabin. All crew and passengers are informed that we will be planetside within the hour. Customs officers will not be boarding, as we have diplomatic immunity, however we will be required to wait for clearance before we can land in Iziz.Avirod smiled before turning to his small chest of drawers. What in the Galaxy was he supposed to wear? What was appropriate for a visit like this? For that matter, what would Princess Sali like? After rifling through his many robes, he settled on a silvery-blue shimmersilk one, trimmed with fine gold thread. The material was cool against his skin, and he shivered slightly. He furrowed his brow as a brief feeling of unease washed over him. The feeling left as quickly as it had come, however, and Avi sat down at his desk. He may as well do a little more reading about his destination whilst they waited.
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Squee
The Keeper
2,286 posts
95 likes
I am Deception, and I defy your holiest moralities.
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last online Oct 24, 2016 0:33:56 GMT -5
Master
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Mar 24, 2010 1:31:04 GMT -5
Post by Squee on Mar 24, 2010 1:31:04 GMT -5
((I'm sorry with how long this took, and I found writing this post a little awkward, so, sorry for any strange, unnatural moments.)) “I swear, someone needs to teach the princess to stop going AWOL. It gets so frustrating.”“Well now, Galanita, you really can’t blame the girl. She’s only nineteen. Besides, there’s other things that have to occupy her mind.”“Like what?” the elderly woman snapped at the younger one, who was only just beyond her prime. The younger woman cringed at her elder’s harsh tone. “She’s still young, barely out of the terribly confusing teenage years. Sali is still rather reckless and… she still misses her father.” That comment earned a daggered glare from the older woman. “Just listen through, Galanita. You cannot tell me you don’t remember how confusing it was to be nineteen.”“Sali’s royalty.”“That does not mean she’s not human!”Galanita and the other woman stopped arguing as they flew around the corner, in hot pursuit to seek their princess, only to see the young lady sitting in the garden. The princess sat on the lush grass, her gown circling her, giving her the appearance of sitting on a lavender platter. One foot, clothed in a soft slipper, poked out from the folds. Princess Sali herself leaned against the gardens fanciest fountain, an arm propped on its wide edge. Her hand seemed to dip over the edge and her head rested against that arm. The other lay splayed in her lap, loosely holding what appeared to be a possibly writing tool. Flimsi lay in her lap. The princess’ eyes were elsewhere, in some other word, seeing something the two women could not. She was busy daydreaming while her hand stirred the cool waters. That simply wouldn’t do for Galanita. Together, the two crossed the distance to their mind wandering princess. Their motion disturbed the princess, who blinked and looked at them in a flighty moment of confusion. Then knowingness dawned in Sali’s dark eyes. Her hand came out of the water and she swept her arm off the fountain’s edge. She glanced guiltily down at her lap, where the flimsi was being wrinkled by her sprawling arm. There would be no sympathy for her, Sali knew, about her lack of knowledge that was written on these sheets of flimsi. Perhaps she knew just enough, but the princess doubted it. “More doodles?” Galanita said sharply as she got close enough to see the sheets. Sali didn’t look up but only bounced her drawing tool in her hand. “Did you read any of the information on there? It will be important for your meeting. The queen has said this engagement is one you can handle by yourself.”“I know.” Sali stared down at the corners of her sheets, where she had brought her tool over them. Little birds grew from words. Vague scenery was outlined coming from the corners. Sali flipped the sheet, revealing flowers. “I will be fine. I have a day left. Was there something specifically wanted or did Mom just send you to pester me into reading?” There was a brief lecture from Galanita, Sali’s mentor in diplomacies, about the importance of being well informed of what was being asked of her. To ensure there were no tricks or underlying, hidden truths. Sali understood all of this and after the lecture, as the two women left, Sali propped her arm up again, fingers dabbling in the water. Her head tilted skyward, toward the sun, with eyelids sealing her sensitive brown orbs. The sun felt good and the birds were singing as the water fell in a musical trickle. When the princess opened her eyes again, she stared down at the flimsi and stroked her writing tool over it. A moment later, she slowly turned the sheet over, exposing the blank area unrestricted by words and doodles. Avirod Escara… The thought drifted drowsily. Her wrist curved to add a subtle angle to the oval-shaped circle she had just applied. She drew another, curving but horizontal, completing her crosshairs. Two curves above the horizontal line made the guiding outlined the tops of eyes. More nicks represented the nose and lip and chin angle. Or Prince Sarala of Keren… Whichever name you do go by… I do wonder what you look like…--- “No, no, no! Nevermind! Enough pulling my hair. Just go find me the wrap that matches this gown.” The helping girl, that was not older than Sali, nodded quickly and dropped the princess’s long dark locks. Sali sighed, watching the girl flee in the mirror to find her wrap as she picked up the brush. It was whispered that her hair should be nicely done for this meeting, however Sali did not want to follow modern opinion today. Yes, she was about to truly annoy the advisors and her mentor. What did her mentor know about royal diplomacies anyway? Arrogant woman. Thought she knew whatever there was about dealing with politics. Sali was nervous, and she knew very well that she was. She was trying to bury it under the weight of sharp temperament and an angry tone. To spew out little thoughts, effort going into each one to make them bitter, to try and be rid of such nervous jitters. It was failing. Sali sighed, feeling the thick coils in her chest loosen with the leaving hiss of breath. This was the difficult part, where she doubted herself. Sali had observed so many of these diplomatic meetings, had been asked once her opinion on some matter once upon a time ago, and had only done a handful of meetings herself. This was her first time greeting another from a different planet. Naboo. How far away was that? Sali couldn’t remember. Did she ever know? Of course she had! No… Sali stroked the brush once more to smooth out the nonexistent tangles. The young girl had returned and together both the handmaiden-in-training and the princess fixed Sali’s hair into a simple arrangement. Once fixated with a spray and a couple of ornaments added to Sali’s ear, they adjusted the wine-red colored wrap around her head. When Sali stood, she was a pattern of gold and red, and she rather liked the traditional feel of the head cloth. It was time to go meet this representative from Naboo. Though he would not be landing for little while yet, Sali knew she would take her time steeling herself enough. Little pecks of doubt, Force curse those betraying thoughts of evil, spattered over Sali again. No, she would do just fine, as she had been told earlier today and yesterday. There wasn’t much to worry about. It was simply deciding what was, in the end, the best course of action for her planet. Then she had to present everything, from the information to what the visitor said, and her own opinion and idea to her mother, the queen. Yikes. Many details were deadlocked with nerves, Sali realized as she glided down the hallways. It made it frustrating to review those details that might mean so much when trying to understand her visitor. That was key, she knew, to quickly adapt to the visitor’s way of being. This implied traditions, since different people hailed from varied cultures and had their own way of doing things. There could be a specific way to greet someone to make him feel more welcomed into the home, and that was by doing it their way rather than her way. If there was a difference, Sali couldn’t remember it now. Another thought betrayed her then: Avirod Escara… what appearance do you own? More twitching nerves pulsed out and startled her already fluttering heart. Why would that matter? Sali felt suddenly disgusted with herself. Of all things to be thinking, she was thinking about the appearance of a boy. She certainly hadn’t grown out of her teenager ways as much as she claimed to have. Moments later, she was overcome with the thought again, fascinated with imagination and fantasy, molding an invisible face into all kinds of shapes and silly poses. Her curious mulling over what this visitor could look like flowered over her nerves. This continued past the receiving halls and she hardly recognized as the guards thickened and then she had escorts. Out the door, a servant came up with a shading device in his hand, intending to follow the princess. Sali wasn’t allowed to linger in the sun. Force forgive should her make-up melt. Sali came up to her ring of advisors, who would be standing to observe their princess’s engagement, as she grew closer to the royal landing pad. There had been swift decision that it was the quickest way to begin any sorts of negotiations. One of the advisors, Sali saw as she approached, spoke into a device. Now the visitor was clear to descend. All Sali could hear was the thump of her heart.
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Makiro
I have to say, you always do come up with the most interesting posts, Makiro. Thanks - assuming the word ?interesting? wasn?t meant sarcastically, of course.
404 posts
1 like
I can has first Galactic Empirez, for safes and sekyur sossi... soca... pplz?
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last online Jul 15, 2010 16:48:09 GMT -5
Knight
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Mar 28, 2010 16:05:38 GMT -5
Post by Makiro on Mar 28, 2010 16:05:38 GMT -5
The diplomatic shuttle swept gracefully out of the cloudless sky above Iziz, the Onderonian capital. Dipping down towards the crowded landing pad, it came to rest almost too delicately for a craft of its size: testament to the skill of the pilots of the Republic Navy.
Inside the small yet sumptuously decorated cabin, Prince Sarala checked his robes for the fiftieth time and gathered together his datapads. Handing these to his Aide, he made his way to the rear of the craft and waited. Slowly, almost agonisingly so, the landing ramp swung downwards.
As the ramp touched down onto the golden stone of the landing pad, Avirod took a deep breath of the warm air which flooded the cabin. One of the Prince’s favourite things about travelling to a new world was taking that first glorious breath of exotic atmosphere; letting the scents of an entirely alien culture permeate ones body – welcoming, embracing.
Onderonian air, Avirod noted, was not far removed from that of Naboo; both worlds were dominated by nature, with little evidence of sentient colonisation, and subsequently both worlds smelt wild and untamed. Whereas Naboo’s air, however, was dominated by hints of flowers, sweet pears and grasses, the air here was characterised by the scent of spices, exotic fruits and the ever-present fragrance of the dense, moist jungles which encircled the city in their verdant grasp. Avirod smiled.
Walking down the ramp, Avirod stepped down onto the landing pad, a small thrill of excitement shooting through his body at the prospect of his first physical contact with this new world. Behind the young prince a small entourage of aides, assistants and guards trooped down in a very orderly fashion, perfectly embodying the Nabooan attention to – almost obsession with – form and detail.
Avirod came to a halt and smiled graciously at the crowd assembled to meet him. He glanced around at the faces, looking for the woman with whom he was supposed to be meeting. Seeing one woman who exuded a definite air of authority and nobility, he turned to her. This was certainly the royal personage with whom this historic meeting had been arranged.
Your majesty. He said, bowing deeply to Galanita. His entourage, too, dipped their heads in respect to the elderly woman. It is an honour and a pleasure to be invited to your most beautiful world. I do hope your world and mine shall become close friends in the future, as well as, of course, the Hyrias and the Escaras.
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Squee
The Keeper
2,286 posts
95 likes
I am Deception, and I defy your holiest moralities.
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last online Oct 24, 2016 0:33:56 GMT -5
Master
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Apr 7, 2010 1:34:23 GMT -5
Post by Squee on Apr 7, 2010 1:34:23 GMT -5
Her gown was disturbed and Sali caught her flying, unraveling scarf as the ship swooped in and caused the air to be ruffled. The shading fan suspended over her head rattled loudly and it shied away as the servant pulled it away as a safety precaution. It had seemed dangerously close to striking the princess. Sali had only noticed well enough to recognize her shadow was gone, and then it was returned as the young servant caught his nerve. She carefully, though hurriedly, fiddled the light scarf back into stylish place.
All right, if you have any blubbering, stupid mistakes to make, make them within the next, oh, five minutes because then you won’t be able to. No pressure! Easy pressure! … There better be a good dinner coming out of this, Mom. Sali motioned to her gathering when the transport landed and the sound of the engines died off. The Onderonian congregation surged forward like an ocean’s tide of rich and flashy greeting wardrobes. Sali smirked at her metaphor, and then dropped it. Beside her, Galanita stood to act as an overseer and to, more than likely, be an imposing presence to tempt any failure to dare walk abroad during this meeting. The elderly woman’s sudden position certainly did help Sali’s smirk fall.
Sali halted a decent distance from the ramp and could almost feel as the advisors and aides behind her spread out. The more space there seemed to be the less claustrophobic feelings were impressed upon the guest. The space allowed a more welcoming and ensuring aura to radiate.
I do wonder what you look like… By the time that curious thought had once again impeded her head, the ramp was lowering steadily. A handful of yards away the edge scraped distastefully on the ground, sending a cold shiver down Sali’s back. How awful that sound was! Her eyes lifted to the top of the ramp and she took a final breath to still her nerves. It was presentation time and there was no room for error.
Her first thought of the ambassador as he strode down the ramp was he was rather cute. Would that be considered an error? Sali hoped not, as she felt herself become more relaxed, especially noting that the man did have a young face with a rather excited atmosphere that bubbled him. There was youth in his eyes as much as there was youth in her own. This might not be so bad.
The prince from Naboo let his eyes wander for a moment as if searching. He was looking for the people he was meeting. That would be me. Sali realized too late, however, as the young man’s eyes had locked on a body, and it was not Sali’s. Though he approached toward her, he did not look at her, he looked at… Galanita. Oh no.
Your majesty.
Oh yes. Sarala Escara even bowed formally and easily to the advisor.
It is an honour and a pleasure to be invited to your most beautiful world. I do hope your world and mine shall become close friends in the future, as well as, of course, the Hyrias and the Escaras.
Those behind Sali had drawn in a great breath and there was a hush settled onto the landing pad. The Onderon people could not breathe. The pause continued a while. Galanita looked as awkward as she felt. Glances were shared between the aides and other advisors. Sali thought she heard someone smothering a snicker.
“Oh my,” Galanita finally uttered out, quite strained. “I cannot appreciate that honor as it is not mine. As you see, I am but a Salyonvar, not a Hyria or of royal lineage, Your Highness Prince Escara.” The elderly woman cleared her throat, cautious and awkward.
Sali couldn’t help it. She giggled. It seemed the break the frozen statues her entourage. Relieved gasps mingled with confused and airy laughs, mostly not quite sure to follow their princess’s example. Sali knew it had been the wrong thing to do, and her hand came up swiftly to cup around her mouth. With the smile gone, the twinkle of merry amusement rested in her dark eyes. Galanita gave her a stern look, but Sali couldn’t deny her smile this time.
“I pray you’re a forgiving person, Prince Escara,” Sali said quickly through her smile, “because I apologize for that. It was not proper. I am Princess Sali Hyria and I extend greetings of my own and from Queen Hyria, who could not make this appointment.” She gave a fair bow with her congregation mirroring her like there was a puppet master behind the stage, pulling all the strings. “This is one of my advisors and closest mentor, Galanita Salyonvar,” Sali gestured to the woman beside her. She placed her hands mockingly on her hips and stared up at Galanita. “I’m sure if she would slouch a little instead of carry herself like the powerful giant she is, there wouldn’t be bizarre mishaps such as this, would there?” Sali grinned as a couple of the others chuckled behind her and she earned a frown from Galanita. As her hands feel from her hips, Sali returned attention to Avirod, still smiling. “I hear you go by two names. By which one would you like me to say?”
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Makiro
I have to say, you always do come up with the most interesting posts, Makiro. Thanks - assuming the word ?interesting? wasn?t meant sarcastically, of course.
404 posts
1 like
I can has first Galactic Empirez, for safes and sekyur sossi... soca... pplz?
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last online Jul 15, 2010 16:48:09 GMT -5
Knight
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Apr 8, 2010 17:07:46 GMT -5
Post by Makiro on Apr 8, 2010 17:07:46 GMT -5
Avi straightened, his face reddening.
I do apologise profusely, Miss Salyonvar; the fault is entirely my own.
Turning to the source of that giggle – that surprisingly amiable giggle, full of a life and energy unusual for a politician or a diplomat. He was amazed to see a young woman, not much older than himself, with long black hair and beautiful dark eyes. Avi surpressed a gasp, and his face turned a little redder.
Considering his faux pas, Avi realised that Sali had not been wrong to find it amusing. Suddenly, Avirod found himself laughing, too. His laugh surpassed in its youthful joy only by the princess’.
I pray you’re a forgiving person, Prince Escara, said Sali, because I apologize for that. It was not proper. I am Princess Sali Hyria and I extend greetings of my own and from Queen Hyria, who could not make this appointment.
She bowed.
Avi returned the bow, glad to be offering the formality to the correct individual.
You are most forgiven, Princess; I, too, found that little misfortune to be most amusing! Although, I fear my father may not see it as such if ever word reaches his distinguished ears!
This is one of my advisors and closest mentor, Galanita Salyonvar. Sali continued.
As she placed her hands on her hips, Avi saw in the princess a delightfully playful spirit, in which he was sure he could have found a charming companion, were this trip not intended to be strictly formal.
I’m sure if she would slouch a little instead of carry herself like the powerful giant she is, there wouldn’t be bizarre mishaps such as this, would there?
The Princess’ smile was enchanting, and Avi could not help returning it, his sparkling eyes demonstrating the sincerity of his grin.
I hear you go by two names. By which one would you like me to say?
Avi’s grin broadened.
I do apologise for the confusion, Princess. Nabooan culture is yet young, and our formalities yet unresolved. As such, there is much of it about which we ourselves are still unsure!
Avi longed to tell her to call him “Avirod” or even “Avi” – under different circumstances he would not have hesitated to do so. At this time and place, however, that would have been entirely inappropriate, and although their meeting had not begun entirely as custom and formality dictated, he intended to restore at least a little propriety to the proceedings.
What I can tell you, however, is that you may address me as Prince Sarala. How, may I ask, should I address your Highness?
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