A Feast for the Vain {Closed}

[Moonfire]

Theme

Ziost. A planet of dark, ancient forests and broken temples. It was here that the Sith's fall from grace in the centuries past was most evident. Ruined fortresses of failed empires littered the harsh, wild planet's surface. But this was a new Empire, a new Order and with it, a new fortress. Built upon bones of the dead, the past mistakes only proved to fortify the new Order, and a new citadel rises, a gleaming beacon of the future.

And with its completion, a celebration.

The grand citadel was decorated from top to bottom for the opulent display that was the Ball. Reds, golds and dramatic purples covered every surface, gold accents in silk and metal. Dramatic center pieces on every table of brightly colored feathers and jewels, the lights of old candelabras glittering across their surfaces. It was vivid, garish even, but tempered by the velvety blacks that draped across the table tops and in wide swatches across the walls and windows of the impromptu ballroom.

The round tables formed a semi-circle around a smooth, marble dance floor, the back of the room dominated by the entertainers. Humani with folksy instruments sprinkled amongst the classic strings, tinkled a simple yet elegant tune as the guests mingled, the night only just beginning.

Bellinda Maskrr, the newest apprentice of the Dark Lady Renata, was at the center of it all, flanked by the dark haired beauty that was Danica Liviana, her partner in this venture.

With a wave of her small, bony hand the red haired woman beckoned a servant, dressed in wild colors, his face obscured by the jester's hat and the fools mask. The sweet, light wine bubbled as she sipped it, smiling.

"I have to admit, Danica, the fools were a nice touch. Very Zeltrosian." She remarked to her companion, watching the slow trickle of guests, the Force users among them lighting up her field of vision, standing out from the aristocrats, corrupt business men and politicians.

Bellinda took another sip of her wine, enjoying the fruitiness of it as she scanned the area, picking up the force that whirled around the members of the Order. Some she recognized from dealings at the Temple, others not so much, though the hue of their auras was intriguing enough. No doubt she'd meet them all by the end of the night, it was her job after all.

With her free hand Bellinda's fingers trailed across the bodice of her gown, a intricate piece of blue and green feathers, small gems embedded between the fluff, shimmering when she moved. The little woman relished in the texture, feeling for the interspersed feathers are she thumbed at the flowing tulle that made up her long skirt before settling back on her silvery new cane.

"Not bad for a ball thrown together in less than a week, don't you think?" The tiny crippled woman asked, her voice pleasant and conversational. "I think we've done rather well."

[Poludnica]

A sudden storm of feathers appeared behind a small Miraluka – black and red dress draped on a tall, female form. Danica lifted her fingertips, decorated with elaborated manicure, to adjust a swan- like mask obscuring half of her surgically sculpted features. Luminous, verdreous gaze swept across the ballroom, trying to memorize every small detail, every guest and possible problems that could erupt from meeting between the Sith. Danica still considered them rather untrustworthy, unstable and capricious creatures that followed the free strings of passion. A part of her didn't want to have any association with those uninhibited creatures but something much more primal and deeper pulled the Coruscanti woman toward this taint. It might have been too late for her now...

Taking a deep breath, she looked up to see the brilliant and obscenely rich decoration hanging from the walls. One could think it was too decadent image not fitted for time of strife but Danica knew people didn't like to be reminded of war. This ugly reality that peered from out of most corners, showing its ugly mug in many battles. Lost lives. No, it wasn't time of war, it was a time of playful mirth. ”I am not sure your Initiates appreciate the honor.” The raven haired woman snorted softly, proud as a peacock though unwilling to show it. Her gaze, marked by vivid make up showing even behind the black mask, met the fiery headed Miraluka's features. It was a while ago Danica decided Bellinda was someone worth knowing but only recently the former heir to Livco empire thought of the other woman as someone closer to a friend.

”Not bad at all.” She commented, giving appreciative look to Bell's dress. They chose a similar theme as hosts but unlike the Sith's bird of paradise gown, Danica's dress was a black swan with swirls of crimson painting feathers marking edges of the material.

”You look absolutely stunning, my dear.” Danica complimented, already fishing for the nearest “fool” waiter who had some expensive brandy on his tray. The last week was nothing but constant stress, something the woman looked forward to vent. Somehow not forgetting this party was more work than anything else. A chance for her to become a part of this crowd.

”I think we should greet the most important guests.” The human finally stated, once again scanning the crowd, looking for one specific person if only to see if he was behaving. The ride on that ship of his was quite pleasant, at least very specific parts of it, but something about that Jack didn't sit right with her. Who was this guy anyway? Slowly, Danica's attention returned to the Miraluka, a fascinating creature in its imperfection, silently awaiting any decision on the matter at hand.

[Dire Wolf]

Among the first press of guests to enter the main hall was a rather notable woman. She was very tall; taller than a few men that walked along with her. The woman's skin was tanned thanks to exposure to the heat of Korriban's fierce sun, though she didn't take the time to lay out in it. Simply working, and training, in the much-loathed heat of the Sith Homeworld has given her skin a healthy hue. Her hair was unusually well combed, and eyes held a shade of blue that could freeze water.

There was even a dash of makesup upon the woman's face, though mentioning such trivial things would earn one a glare and a sharp remark. The woman wore a white dress with an open back and partially open sides, though it was still tasteful. The samite silk white dress had an outer layer made of strips that started at her hips and fell down to her feet. These strips began as white towards her waist but slowly became blue and had a floral print as they reached their end. The woman looked almost as if she were a flower ready to bloom in her dress.

This woman was a Sith Lady, and she took the name Vesperia upon her christening. Let it be known that despite her humble beginnings and status as a Sith Marauder, she rather enjoyed high class parties such as the one she found herself at. Though she would never admit it. Her fondness for such events had began fifteen years prior while she was under the employ of Luwen Sundar. He had hired her to not only be arm candy, but also offer her services as a body guard of sorts. At first she loathed the rich people who threw currency around at themselves. The credits spent on a small plate of rare fish could instead feed an entire less fortunate family for a week. Perhaps longer. As she attended them more, though, the woman grew to like them. She hated them for looking down at her for speaking in such a droll and boorish way, and perhaps that was why she forced herself to learn the sophisticated accent of the core worlds.

Vesperia just hated them in general.

But as the woman attended more and more of the high society balls and dances she found that she was able to tolerate them. Perhaps even enjoy them. There was something about living on the high-end of the spectrum that intrigued her. No matter how horrible things were going in the galaxy, they had their expensive parties and seven course meals who's cost could feed a family for a month. And she liked it. A small part of Vesperia enjoyed the fact that she ate with the privileged while the poor went hungry.

Though she wondered if that was the real reason why she had come to enjoy such expensive albeit superfluous social functions. It was Luwen. He may have been the reason why she enjoyed going to such events. At first she barely noticed his existence beyond the fact that she must protect him from harm. Though as time and the years marched on her heart began to flutter a his mere glance. She grew to enjoy the way his sharp tongue was equal to, if not faster than, her own. Despite all of this she found herself surprised beyond words when he not only professed his love for her, but asked for her hand in marriage after four years of her employ.

Fear took her then. Fear of being bound by the chains of matrimony. Those bonds being held by a man, at that. So the twenty eight year old pirate did the only thing she knew how to do when threatened with being bound: she killed him. Vesperia never knew why she did it, or why she had curled up into a ball and sobbed herself to sleep the days afterwards. Such thoughts crossed the Sith Lady's mind as she noticed a trio of arctic blue flowers in a glass vase of water and casually made her way over towards them. A moment latter one of the delicate stems had been taken by her delicate grasp and brought to her nose so that she could take in its scent. Its scent was that of lavender, and it brought Luwen's face to her mind. Luwen Sundar had offered Vesperia such a flower during one of their excursions to Naboo. The Sith distinctly remembered tucking it behind her ear. She had left it on his body.

Vesperia realized why she had been so distraught over the harsh murder and betrayal of Luwen Sundar: she had loved him. Part of her still missed him a decade and a half later, and still regarded her four years with him as the best of her life. Her eyes opened slowly and nose crinkled at the realization. That flower slipped from her grasp and to the floor as if she found its scent detestable. Before long she found herself nearing a pair of woman, one of them crippled. She recognized the non-lame one as Danica Liviana, who happened to be the one who set this whole thing up.

"Hm," was the best compliment Danica would pull from Vesperia at the best of times, "you must be Danica. I am Lady Vesperia." Her tone was apathetic and accent impeccable. Such was the minimum for the towering Nordic woman that stood before the woman and her crippled friend.

[Kella]

Sebastian Monroe was less like a fish out of water, and more like a fresh-water fish in the ocean. He was not out of his element -- in fact, he could navigate quite artfully -- it was just that this particular version of the element had the potential to become very deadly, very quickly. Perhaps the natural thing to do would have been seek safety in camouflage. Sebastian, however, had a general distaste for safety. Rather than indulge the excessive opulence that had infected the rest of the guests -- and surely Bellinda as well, for she had been a little too excited to not show Sebastian her dress -- the Corellian businessman had opted for a much more understated look. He wore a charcoal-colored suit, characterized by thin lapels, a two button coat and a perfect fit. His collared shirt was white and satin, his silk tie the rich and warm color of blood. The matching kerchief tucked into his pocket, diamond cufflinks, and perfectly polished leather of his shoes belied an acute attention to detail.

Despite the hidden lure, in all ostensible ways a party was a party, and Sebastian was Sebastian, and he made his way around the fringes of the room with ripples of greetings and twitches of small talk, until he spotted amidst the open water the one he was looking for. Bellinda had indeed embraced the gaudiness, but Sebastian could appreciate the way her body was just starting to take on a shape other than skeletal. She was, at least, more pleasant to look at than she had been when he had first met her, so many months ago on Korriban. Rather than progressively understand her over time, he had simply become more and more intrigued.

He walked with a confidence that did not seek to hide, but rather address, the fact that he knew any guest here with even the slightest inkling of curiosity would know that he did not, in fact, possess the same ethereal gift that they did. Let them wonder why he was here, and even moreso wonder why he did not tread on eggshells. Perhaps they'd appreciate the irony of the answer as much as he did.

"Lin," he lilted, coming up beside the woman and resting his hand on her waist. "There you are." He turned toward the two other women with a winning smile, the first who he could conclude to be Danica, the second lacking any obvious connection to references Sebastian had heard, though she was remarkably almost as tall as he was. Rather than introduce himself, he would wait and leave that courtesy to Bellinda, which was always far more amusing.

[Cavalry King]

Callidus was always fond of Ziost. It was one of those planets that connected one with the Old Sith. This Callidus appreciated greatly. The dark side energy here was invigorating. The millenia of darksiders that have dwelt on this planet have left their taint. Thus when Callidus heard there was to be a formal occasion on the planet, he took it as an excuse to go there. Additionally, he desired to meet more powerful elites in the Sith Empire. He had been very reclusive when he first joined the Sith, but recently he has been getting his name about more and more. Callidus was building his power base. Now that he was somewhat established, he felt ready to move about. He had allies ranging from Sith Lords to powerful pirate lords. He had vast wealth and resources available to him. This he knew would afford him more respect and possibly more protection wherever he went. Crossing him meant crossing many, many beings.

He arrived at the party in his formal robes, of course with his face still obscured by a mask, however this one had red painted decorations on it for a more formal look. He was flanked by several Trandoshan bodyguards, he could potentially have gotten a Sith soldier escort, but he did not like to rely on others within the empire. When he entered he saw some of the guests gathered, he looked over to investigate. To his surprise he saw Miss Liviana. He ordered his guards to stay close but to allow him some room while he interacted with the other guests. He walked over to the group, clasping his hands behind his back. He moved with the grace and poise of a man at home to these high society functions.

Callidus gave a polite nod to the group and cheerily said, "Greetings to all." He looked over to Danica and said genuinely, "Miss Danica, always a pleasure." He looked around at the small group gathered. Realizing he did not know all present he introduced himself. "Ido believe I have had to occasion to meet all of you. I am Lord Callidus."

[Rugs]

[Not the beeeest, but waiting for dat interaction to start]

We're Sith...

Having a... party...

To say the thought still somewhat baffled Nieraan would be a bit of an understatement. Yet, here they were, on the forested, secluded world of Ziost for a ball to celebrate the completion of a grand fortress.

In truth, Nieraan could understand some reasoning for it. Ziost was a lonely world, sparsely inhabited, if at all. The old, brittle bones of ruined structures were scattered about its surface, some the only physical remnants of Sith Empires that had once tried to rise, others the only shelter for artifacts of days gone for the Order to snap up.

Yet here, rising out of the forest, tall and stalwart, bright and wreathed in banners of red and black, was a new fortress for a new Sith. And that, was, with the continuing advances in the war, reason to celebrate.

It was all romantic, truly, and as he walked through the grand entrance, he had to admit that the new construct was impressive. But it didn't do much to make the Firrerreo think wonder if they could've been doing more important things instead of partying and making merry.

Or why he had to come.

But the invitation had been received, and it seemed anyone who had any sort of worth to the Order was to be along. And to his great surprise, he'd first received word of his invitation through none other than Danica, who would also be in attendance. She'd come along on the Nyoka on the trip over, riding with Jack and himself. She'd ferreted herself away off in the fortress quite some time ago, though.

He would've been content if he could have just let the night go on without having to go out and participate, but he had to be there.

And now, there was here.

He stopped briefly as a greet asked for his name and gave his Sith title, as he'd been signed up for. He passed through the door and waited for Makura to do the same before continuing along.

The corridor leading to the ball area was splendid, finely furnished and glistening with newness. Nieraan made a cursory check of his outfit. He wore a tailor-made black suit with subtle dark blue pinstripes. He had on a dark blue vest and tie beneath his jacket, and a matching blue handkerchief was folded into the jacket's breast pocket.

His blue-streaked-black hair, the inspiration for his suit's colors, was groomed and neat, with a light touch of gel to keep it in order at least for the night. He was freshly washed, clean, cologned, and pampered.

His matching lightsabers were hidden away on his person. The third, he'd left with his personal affects back on the ship.

Suffice to say, Nieraan was better dressed than he could remember being in years, if ever. It was an annoyance, but what else was there to do? Nothing but wait until he could partake in some of the whiskey Makura carried in hand.

The corridor passed along and all too soon, Nieraan found himself in the gathering place. This gathering place as it was, was massive, the decorations as rich and opulent as the guests that were already beginning to gather.

And here amidst all the wealth and slendor, striding in with his hands stuffed into his pockets was a Sith who'd spent the bulk of his life growing up a street rat.

Out of his element didn't--couldn't--begin to describe the feeling.

Even so, a part of him--the quiet shadow of a shadow that remained of the innocent child he'd once been--wanted to let loose. He wanted to, Force forbid, maybe let the attitude go for a few hours and enjoy himself.

Fat chance.

Instead Nieraan sighed, eyes scanning the crowd, occasionally nodding to those Sith he recognized, looking for Danica. He couldn't approach her--not with so many people there. But he just wanted to see her, to know that she was here and safe.

And that he did; she was with Bellinda, looking out at the guests assembled. That was good enough for him.

"So Makura," he muttered, glancing with a yellow eye at his friend, "how long 'til the bottle opens?"

[Jace]

Ziost. A decidedly miserable place. The Sith really do have terrible taste, followed the exasperated thought. Gabriella could not understand why all the places the Order chose to frequent were just plain awful. Korriban was a nightmare, Ziost was dull, and then there had been Rhen Var. It was now nothing more than a frigid rock littered with corpses, which was arguably a notable improvement to its previous condition. The Echani was slightly disgusted by the thought that she was associated with these people. She supposed it couldn't be help for the time being.

Gabriella initially had no idea where they were going to be holding the ball. She had thought Ziost was full of just rotting forests and fortresses of a forgotten age. Therefore her surprise when genuine when she found herself standing before a newly constructed citadel. Apparently it had been in construction for some time but the Echani had never really kept up with the Order's current events. Of course it hadn't helped that Gabby had been occupied for the last few months with a mission. The success of which had resulted in her promotion or at least that was what Zarene had told her.

The Echani's night had almost ended as quickly as it started. She had been hassled at the entrance because of her 'inappropriate' attire. Gabriella had not thought to dress up for the occasion and probably would not have either way. There was nothing wrong with fancy clothes but only when she felt like wearing them. She had simply decided to come to the ball in her normal clothing which consisted of a tank-top, shorts, and her white jacket. Twin lightsabers always at her side. Eventually the situation was sorted out which Gabriella thought unfortunate; murder would have surely improved her mood.

Wonder who paid for all this, was her first thought as she was hit with a barrage of extravagance.

She quickly realized that a number of eyes had been drawn to her, Gabby's entrance had caused somewhat of a stir. The Echani sent a smile back at all those disapproving glares. Politicians, aristocrats, and even other Sith; they did not approve of her evening attire. She took some effort to remember their faces. She would make them scream for forgiveness when the right opportunity presented itself. Surely no one would care if one or two guests went missing during the party. Gabriella tended to get bored easily and preferred a different type of music than what was being played.

Her eyes scanned the expanse before her in search of familiar faces. She noted a few female Sith whom she had seen around the temple. Gabriella had not really ever talked to them so she felt no need to go greet them. Plus, they seemed to be in conversation with a man wearing a silly mask. The Echani thought only the servants wore masks but maybe she was wrong. Her eyes eventually found a familiar sight though one she was not overjoyed to see. Still, she was bored and it was better than nothing for the time being.

"Oi Onin," called out Gabby as she slapped the other Sith square on the back,"I was hoping I wouldn't see you here but you can't always get what you want." An outside observer would almost guess that they were having a friendly conversation, "You've somehow managed to make yourself slightly less ugly than usual, I'm impressed."

In truth, the Echani had barely recognized the other Sith. Apparently Nieraan could clean himself up if he wanted to. Of course Gabriella still found the man deplorable but that was another matter entirely.

"I see you found yourself a date," noted Gabriella, hooking her thumb towards the other man standing with Nieraan.

[Squee]

The extravagance, while not completely up to par, was stunning. The “gatekeeper” ushered her in as her name was found on the list. Yes… tonight’s party would simulate a true luxury festivity well enough. Her eyes followed along the gaudy decorations and admired the glassware. And that marble floor…

Tesa’s fingers beckoned, and a jester character hurried forward, a tray of glasses balanced in his hands. Largely ignoring the man but for a glance, a tall glass nestled into Tesa’s fingers as she continued her graceful stride. A sip of the beverage confirmed it was very fine quality. Yes, she decided, she may not regret attending so much after all with such delicacies at hand. It may feel just like a real party yet.

It had been some months since she’d attended a party that accentuated a need to proper elegance. Though by the look of that Gabriella’s boorish attire, it was clearly not enforced quite enough. And then there was the slouching Nieraan, hands tucked rudely into his pockets. Makura… the name growled through her mind. At least his collar was folded down, but he looked bored. Typical. And… that man with the mask had brought his own escort. Obviously, someone is not confident in his abilities.

Of all the Sith, the aristocrats and a few select from the Order looked perfectly at ease, say one Danica, the Lady Vesperia, and an appealing man beside a Bellinda. Bellinda herself seemed more at ease than most of the rest of the Order. A half smile touched Tesa’s lips. I told her that dress looked spectacular on her.

Tesa exuded a grace that matched that of the aristocratic women. The sleek, gold dress shimmered with silky appeal, and trailed on the ground behind her. From the high side slit of her dress to the center of her bodice, black feathers jutted outward in a curving line. In the middle of that line glittered the white precious stones. On her neck sat a gold choker with a black pendant, and at her wrists were several bangles of matching color. Her hair was partially done up, some wavy locks remained free about her bare shoulders. A gold feathered hair adornment sat just above her ear.

“Nicely done,” Tesa commented fondly to Bellinda. She would share the comment with Danica, as well. Her fingertips lightly brushed against her… friend’s shoulder. The dress is very beautiful, just as I said it would be on you. This man… Tesa’s head tilted slightly to the man at ease beside Bellinda, a smile of charm pressed to his lips. He does not bother you?

[Cain]

The Sith Ball. Jack snickered at the thought. The concept in and of itself was an oxymoron. A gala for Dark Lords of the Sith to socialize and celebrate. What did they celebrate? The conquering of an uninhabited planet of all things. Laughable, but fitting. These Sith always did have a knack for lowering the bar.

It wasn't as though Jack was unfamiliar with such trivial affairs. He'd spent the better part of his life as a high ranking assassin for one of the most powerful Hutt cartels on Nar Shaddaa, after all. Superfluous celebrations of unchecked hedonism were a fact of life on the Smuggler's Moon. At least this event had a relatively low probability of descending into a blood orgy, unlike the parties thrown by Lagra the Hutt.

Most amazing perhaps was that Jack still possessed the formal wear he'd been given years ago by his late master. Somehow it fit, though Jack still couldn't figure out the bow-tie. His reflection staring back at him, the sight of himself in his tux had unearthed many memories Jack may have preferred left buried. Fortunately, the tux's plasteel container came with just the tool he'd need to shovel dirt back on those sour thoughts.

Corellian Whiskey, the label read. Jack grinned. I can only hope the Dark Overlord won't take offense if I start the party early.

The trip to Ziost was over much too soon. Jack barely had a buzz going. Facing this carnival of idiocy sober would take far more patience than Jack was capable of mustering. What's more, Nieraan had insisted on bringing an extra passenger on board the Nyoka. An untrained Force sensitive woman who fussed over Nieraan like a screeching Mynock over its brood. Even the Noghri could've figure this one out. It may have been funny if the Firrerreo wasn't slowly inviting his own destruction. Such a waste.

With a whiskey bottle swinging carelessly in hand and a cigarette on his lips, Jack strolled casually up to the bouncer working the entrance to the Sith's new fortress. Most of the guests streaming in before him were primmed and pampered, festooned in all the gaudiest attire the galaxy, and an endless supply of credits, could buy. Even Nieraan wore a sharp suit and styled hair.

Jack, on the other hand, looked as if he'd just woken up the morning after the party. For Jack this was normal. His tux was thrown on, the buttons on the sleeves undone and the jacket left open. His breast pocket held his Bloodstripes and his "lighter". His bow tie, of course, was left untied and hung limp from his neck. Jack's hair was unkempt, as usual, obscuring half of his face. What could be seen was pasty white flesh and black, bruised bags surrounding sunken, yellow eyes.

Jack huffed with audible frustration as the bouncer stopped him, rolling his head around to shoot the man a death glare. He had a solid build, but he was no Sith. Some low ranking Imperial bean counter feeling suddenly empowered by his pen and clipboard.

"My Lord, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to put out that cigarette."

"My name is Makura," Jack responded flatly, ignoring his request. "My name is on the list."

"Yes, of course," the bouncer stuttered. "The Overlord's apprentice. We've been expecting you..."

There was a few moments of silence and neither man moved. Finally Jack's eyes flashed up at the man who towered over the small emaciated Sith.

"Then get out of my way," Jack spat through a cloud of smoke.

Thinking better of arguing, the bouncer stepped aside.

The inside of the fortress was easily as grand and glitzy as any Hutt palace. With an indiscreet swig of whiskey Jack strut out through the crowd toward the marble dance floor, his free hand stuffed in his pocket and the other swinging the bottle as he moved. Nieraan remained close, though his attention was clearly divided between the Sith all around him and his squishy new pet.

"So Makura, how long 'til the bottle opens?"

Jack chuckled. "Party's already started, old friend," he commented, plucking his cigarette from his lips and exhaling a stream of smoke. "Might want to get your head out of your ass before you miss it."

Before Jack could get a response Nieraan was accosted by one of the Sith. An Echani by the looks of her.

"I see you found yourself a date," she quipped, motioning towards Jack.

Jack shot the woman a smirk and raised his whiskey to her before throwing back another shot. He considered breaking the bottle over her skull for a moment, but decided her not to be worth the booze.

Finally, out the corner of his eye Jack spotted a familiar face.

Tesa Yarum. His fellow apprentice caught the sight of Jack from across the room, her expression visibly souring at the sight of him. Jack smiled, instinctively reaching for his collar and popping it up before shooting Tesa a quick wink.

[sparrow]

She hadn't been sure what to think about the whole affair at first. Too many people in fancy dos watching, judging. Most of them would be members of the Sith aristocracy. The last time Zarene Yin had interacted with members of the Sith aristocracy was when she had ordered a carrier flown into Lord Ruuken Droknel fortress on Sernpidal, after the man had refused to back down from his talk of rebellion against the Order. It was a statement that the Order would be tolerating no disloyalty.

A sword in one hand, but an olive branch in the other. Now was the time for the Order to make nice with the Aristocracy. So at least that was what she had been told. The Order still needed the Aristocracy's money and resources, after all.

She supposed it wasn't so bad after all. It wasn't as if she had to give a speech or anything. She just had to be there. There was a certain amount of entertainment from just watch allthe men and women in fancy suits and nice dresses.

And speaking of nice dresses, it wasn't often that she had the opportunity to wear one. What girl didn't like to try and look pretty at least once in a while? Well, not every girl, Zarene thought to herself as she noticed Gabriella enter the room, looking like she had just rolled out of bed. And somehow I'm not surprised at all...

But Gabriella seemed to be the only one. She notice Jack Makura walk in with Nieraan Onin. Makura looked similarly disheveled, but at least he and Nieraan were both wearing suits. No matching though. Pity.

She looked around to see who else she recognized. Adara, a member of her own species, was there, showing quite a bit of skin in a dress with open back and sides. There was Tesa Yarum, in a gold-colored dress with black feathers. A miraluka who she had seen around the temple before but whose name she hadn't yet had the chance to catch was dressed in feathers of blue and green. There was Callidus, who for some reason had decided that he needed bodyguards even here. Several others were around them that she didn't know. A dark curly-haired man in a nice charcoal suit, a woman in a black and red dress, with (surprise) more feathers. Feathers seemed to be rather common theme this night.

Zarene's own dress was a royal blue, with a high neck, short sleeves, a floor-length skirt, and silver embroidery that created a peacock pattern. She wore a half-mask made of some ivory-like material that obscured the right half of her face. No sense in scaring anyone, after all. Nope.

She'd just sit here and people-watch for a while.

[Meira]

In all honesty, the Dark Lady was torn between two sentiments this night. On the one hand, this was all terribly vexing. Even though she'd delegated nearly all the responsibility, she simply couldn't help but feel annoyed that this had to occur at all. She had far better things to do, like jump off a building. These aristocrats knew very well that the Order merely tolerated their existence. And even then, that existence was not guaranteed. This was all a sham, one that she had to oversee personally.

On the other hand... Renata's black dress clung tight to her figure. The under layer of the skirt was a dark crimson, nearly dissolving into the black that lay over it. The slit in the left side ran nearly up to her hip where an arrangement of stones, clear as glass accentuated the otherwise plain ensemble. Strapless, the dress left her shoulders bare, allowing the diamond encrusted necklace to take prominence. It consisted of a rather large, round pendant surrounded by smaller stones and was a gift from one of the more ambitious guests at the event. Renata's face was partially obscured, on the left side, by a lace flower pattern which clung to her cheek and around her left eye. It was black, with fine threads of silver worked throughout to give it just the right amount of shimmer.

In all, her appearance carried with it an air of subtle luxury. Perhaps not quite up to the standards of such an extravagant event, but Renata preferred quiet allure over flashiness. There were plenty aristocrats giddy at the opportunity to dress themselves up to gaudiness, and Renata knew she would not be alone in subtlety. That is, of course, if any of her loyal Order members even bothered to show up.

As the guests began to fill the ballroom, Renata allowed her senses to extend from the overlook where she waited. She was pleased to feel the presence of many beings she recognized sprinkled throughout the otherwise dull pulses of life below her. Even if they felt put upon by being here, as she somewhat did herself, it was a necessary display. Wars were not won by blasters alone, after all, and if their Order wished to truly hold the power to rule a galaxy, well... they had to have the right people in their pocket. Vinegar and honey and all of that. In any case, it was time to begin.

Throughout the ballroom, lights slowly dimmed until the guests were all enveloped in near darkness. The music faded and the chatter followed until all seemed almost still. It was then that a warm light bloomed to life at the top of a grand marble staircase which served as the focal point at the front of the ballroom. There, above the mass of overdressed and overprivileged, Renata smiled.

"Welcome." she said, her voice no louder than necessary for polite conversation at a dinner table, yet it carried throughout the minds of those gathered. It was sweet, almost musical. Those within the Order would recognize the subtle play of the force that came with it, but in truth these words were not for them. This whole event was not for them.

"For too long, the people of this galaxy have lived under the oppression of a bloated, corrupt mockery called the Republic, a tangled, festering mess of bureaucracy and deception. But such sinful debasement could not be tolerated forever." she held up her hands now, in a gesture to those gathered before her. "The champions of the people have risen to throw off the yoke of oppression."

Slowly, Renata began to descend the steps. With each pace, the room seemed to brighten slightly. "It is through your strength that we gain victory. And in victory, all of our chains are broken." At the bottom of the staircase, a servant stepped forward with a single fluted glass upon a tray. Renata scooped it up fluidly and held it aloft. "So again, I welcome you, defenders of freedom. May your generosity be remembered for millennia to come!"

She drank. The masses followed. There was applause. The music began again with a flourish and Darth Renata's obligation was fulfilled. If she wished, she could retreat and be done with all of it. But that would be a waste of such a fine dress.

[Swamps]

Mercutio was impressed, very much so. When he had been asked to work the Sith ball he had expected what one does from anything involving the Sith. Instead the crooked house he had imagined, filled with gibbets and sabered corpses was a fortress that was nothing less than majestic and perhaps even a little beautiful. The walls were high and angled, their shiny black surfaces hung with a variety of vividly coloured banners. All blacks and golds and reds. And milling about beneath them were clientele of the highest sort, bankers and politicians, CEOs and entrepreneurs. All of them decked out in their finest, and no doubt most expensive, clothing. Sharp, striped suits and garish billowing dresses accompanied with numerous feathered, jewelled and scaled headpieces could be seen glittering in the light of many jewel-encrusted chandeliers and candelabras. He had become so caught up in the dark myths of the Sith Order that he had forgotten the sickening wealth of the Aristocrats.

But that wasn't all that was impressive. The room was almost silent, all conversation and small talk hushed by the melodic but powerful voice that echoed throughout the room. They were captivated, enthralled by the woman atop the staircase. A slender damsel with long, flowing red hair and words of great power. She talked of republics and of chains and of people, such words even made his heart stir. She was an incredibly talented orator, that was much was certain and he didn't doubt the use of the Sith's odd Force techniques.

That was indeed another reason Mercutio had accepted the contract. The sheer fantasy of it all, an opulent ball attended and organised by what were effectively witches. Dark, sinister beings of great power and greater subtlety. Most would have been terrified but Mercutio... Mercutio was thrilled. This people were peculiar and endearing in there peculiarities even if they wouldn't hesitate to decapitate him for speaking to them. The risk of death was all part of the fun, right?
As the red-headed woman reached the bottom of the staircase Mercutio became disinterested in her performance, her control was impressive but his time was valuable. With great care the Humani scanned the crowd, until his glinting eyes found somebody who piqued his curiosity. A Sith Lord no doubt, clad in odd-looking robes and an odder looking mask. It covered his entire face and was entirely black with crimson decorations swirling about its curved face. The Sith, despite his fearsome appearance, was backed by several bodyguards. Clearly the man was either a paranoid or unfathomably arrogant. Mercutio hoped deeply for the latter. It would make their encounter much, much more entertaining. For him.

As the powerful-looking woman finished her speech the masses raised their glasses in acknowledgment, throwing them back and gorging on their contents. Slowly the conversation returned to the room and with a quick pirouette Mercutio turned to the musicians.

"Play something light, perhaps with some horns? One of Lustria's pieces maybe? Such fragrant conversation needs mood music!"

Without waiting for a response Mercutio skipped from the stage and onto the dance floor, slipping through the crowds and admiring their clothing as he went. Great wealth did indeed breed great fashion. But he preferred his own style. He wore his vividly-coloured patchwork jacket as always, it's vast array of colours and shapes being the foundation for his attire that evening. On his legs he wore tight-fitting trousers of the same pattern, the multiple colours making him appear like a walking optical illusion or some sort of gregarious harlequin. Which, of course, was not far from the truth at all. Crowning the ensemble however was something rather special indeed, something that Karon had had sewn especially for this occasion. It was a curved-brim top hat, with a thick ribbon circling it's tall crown. The hat displayed the same haphazard array of shapes, colours and symbols scattered across his trousers and jacket but boasted a magnificent addition. Snaking about it's surface and across the ocean of colour was a majestic Duinuogwuin, a Star Dragon, complete with glittering segments and vigilant jewelled eyes. And much like the fabled Dragon Mercutio ducked, dodged, dipped and dived through the swelling crowds until he reached the masked Sith Lord.

The man held himself with such high regard, back straight and arms placed neatly behind his back as he strode towards a regal-looking woman that Mercutio recognised as Danica, and beside her Bellinda. The two were the organisers of this particular function and he flashed a smile at them both as he approached the masked man.

"Ah, a masked man at a masked ball! How mysterious that one such as you who clearly possesses such great power..."

Mercutio motioned towards the waist of his robes where he was sure a Lightsaber or two rested, waiting.

"...should hide behind a mask? Or indeed behind bodyguards? But forget that, I must applaud you on your theatrics! You made quite the entrance after all, had my heart all aflutter. Such a man should have an appropriately terrifying name? One, hopefully, as terrifying as the visage he conceals behind his mask?"

[Foxfire]

The last thing he would have to endure was a party. Many had thought him dumb and stupid maybe they were right yet did he care.... a little. But still when the invite came to him he was a bit more than shocked. For the date of the event was just three days after he got the message. The travel was not the problem he had returned to Zoist after the second major battle, Ordo and the Jedi blade's hold.

He had scrounged around for some thing to ware. The 'Temple of the Beast' was one of the beast training centers. Finally finding some anchent sith solider's platings. The chest piece had been chewed on by young teathing sith hounds. So he painted it with a high gloss black and polished it till it shined like a mirror. Other pieces he found getting them ready to ware. Strapping them over a formal sith military suit made of a flat charcole black matterial he looked at himself in a mirror. A monkey in a suit is how he felt and a bit more stupid looking too. Still he had to go not going would raise more questions of his loyalty. As he left two Sith hounds flanked him and followed to the new temple. Getting near to the temple he had thought that the sith hounds would stay back but these hound of the 'Temple of the Beast' seemed to show a bit more loyalty than anything else. They walked up to the front doors hissing and burmiling at those looking at Honog.

At the steps the sith hounds stopped Honog could not make himself move any further some thing like a force push kept him from taking that first step. His anger was trying to build but the gentle nudge from one of the hounds made the break he needed. Taking those steps he felt the need to hide. Dropping his anger and his force signature to nothing he felt better. Keeping his eyes lowered he moved through the now forming crowd. He heard the voices of many high level sith. The lords and lady sith were in their finery.

Honog moved to an edge of the room. A being in a jester mask came at him. His clawed hand had dropped to the saber at his side. the being stopped and said .... Drink my lord? Looking at what the being had on a plate he took the drink. The drink smelled fruity and overly sweet. Catching a reflexion of a strange and dorky being holding a glass like him made him feel better till he reliase that it was him. So down his mood went as well as the drink. Hoping beyond hope that the planet would explode and take him with it became the main thoughts.

The talk of the room was a buzz yet most of which he could not catch. What he could catch was the pointing and laughter in his direction. Lowering his head he let him mind wander to other things. Soon his legs were starting to get stiff and he found a chair against an outer wall. Sitting down he closed his eyes and let himself slip away once again. No one would miss him nor ever care if he died at the party. They would likely have felt greatful that he didn't ruin their evening.

[Necro Stormborn]

The sound of running water seemed quite soothing as Dark Lord Eurachis washed the blood from his hands, scrubbing quietly as the groans of a man in pain echoed into the washroom. Turning off the faucet, the dark lord turned to wipe his hands dry with a towel and swept his gaze into the adjoining room, filled by a dim green light. There lay a man, skin littered with black and blue and trailing blood down his cheeks and chin. A prisoner, captured in the Sith's last efforts at a surprise skirmish with the Blades. A major in the republic military, and had refused to give Eurachis the coordinates of two sizable Republic fleets. They had received intel that they were amassing a sizable strike force, for which the Sith military intelligence could only speculate would be used to cut supply lines and halt further Sith expansionary efforts. This would not be allowed to occur. Not on his watch.

"So, Major Walsh.....why don't you just do yourself a favor and think about lying to me again. I thought we had an understanding. If you lie to me, I hurt you. If something you tell me is inaccurate....I hurt you. If you do anything but cooperate, I hurt you. So, why put yourself through more pain?" Eurachis moved smoothly to the other side of the room and picked up a small bottle of cold water before turning silently on his heel and moving towards the durasteel plate, located in the middle of the room to which this Major was strapped against. "Water?....No?" Eurachis, opened the cap and took a swig, allowing the beaten man to watch as he coughed up blood. "I'm sorry... was that a yes?" The man hissed something unintelligible. "Ah.. OK. Here you go." The dark lord moved closer to the man and lowered the bottle to the split and bleeding lips, watching as the man chugged the liquid down as if it were the first drink he'd had in 36 hours---except that it was.

"So, Major Walsh, I'm going to leave you here on this thought, because unfortunately I have a previous engagement I must attend to. Silly thing really, there is a war going on, and I have to go put a smile on my face and convince our benefactors that we are using their money wisely." He paused to frown at the sad man strapped to the plate hanging from the ceiling at a 75 degree angle. "Anyways.... that's none of your concern. However, what is the subject of your thoughts this evening, is your future here and the unrest you are causing each day I don't have an answer from you. So... tomorrow, as I'm sure I'm going to imbibe myself into quite a stupor this evening, I will be seeking an answer to my question. Provide me the information I need, and I shall see to it that you are moved to a prison facility on muunilinst, where they treat the prisoners with dignity. Alternatively.... I will be strapping you to the Dreshdae starport landing platform, and we will see how long you last under tons of pressure as a ship comes down on top of you. The decision is yours, Farewell mister Walsh."

With that, their exchange was finished, and Eurachis moved to the door and lowered the lights to complete darkness before stepping out past the automated door. Outside was a most ravishing brunette, Rear-Admiral Vidal, and his date for the evening. She was of the brightest and most promising military officers the Sith empire had produced, and Eurachis had been keeping his eye on her lately for more reasons than that. She was really quite stunning, very defined facial features, wavy hair let down out from its typical ponytail look, and a beautiful silky gray and blue dress that flowed all the way to the floor and dragged a 2 feet behind her as she stepped. The quality he like the most of what she was wearing however, was the backless and exposed side portions. Not only was her curvaceous backside exposed enough to tease, but the sides of the chest were exposed too, enough to entice, but covering a necessary amount to leave room for imagination.

"You are looking most provocative this evening, Rhona." Her smile was telling enough that she appreciated his candor. "Always the playboy, I see, it's a wonder we win any battles with you around!" She exclaimed as she looped her arm through his and they set off down the hallway towards the ball.

"Oh come on, that's why we have you, Admiral." He retorted back fiendishly. She scoffed at him and raised an eyebrow, "For what? Winning your war for you?"

He leaned in to whisper as they closed on the ballroom doors. "No.. to look good doing so." He held back the urge to burst out in laughter as he pushed through the doors and entered the main hallway. He was very grateful he hadn't got blood on his white suit. The all white suit was simple, yet titillating, and paired with the deep crimson tie and white vest with matching crimson swirls...he gave off quite an eccentric appearance. "Well, lets go say hel-," the dark lord was cut off by Renata's speech. He listened and watched as he crossed through the threshold of the main entryway and entered the room. She was always the better public speaker, so he was grateful to her for not leaving the evening's greetings to him. He reached over and snatched a drink of some type of alcohol off a passing server tray; he cared not what it was only that he hurried the process of numbing himself to the endless evening of expected interaction. He'd gotten used to avoiding this type of stuff, but it wasn't new to him. He had once been royalty and this type of social event was as common to him as washing his hands. Eurachis watched as the Dark Lady stepped slowly down the stairs in the dark, the lights only raising slightly with each step, and he couldn't help but notice that his date and Renata looked surprisingly similar in formal dress. smiling inwardly he took Rhona's hand and gently kissed it before pulling her further into the ballroom. He recognized several of the officials and aristocrats they had been hobnobbing for credit to finance the war, and made his way to each introducing the Rear-Admiral to each, shaking hands and sharing in some comedic war stories.

His eyes caught Tessa, Iniquitous's apprentice, and he smiled at her the way he would a niece. He also caught Bellinda, a conversationalist he quite enjoyed exchanges with, talking to an abrasive but refreshing, Fererro named Nieraan. Further into the room he noticed Renata's old pet projects, though now they were quite capable and independent women, Gabriella and Zarene. To them he waved and flashed a smile, he'd make his way over to them in time, he doubted they were rushing to greet him anyway. However, on the far side of the room, Eurachis noticed his own pet project.

"....Yes of course, we are doing everything we can. Rest assured this is just the beginning of a long line of expansionary policies. I will most certainly task one of our more promising agents with negotiating your treaty." Eurachis smiled in the face of this creditor, a Sullustan wearing an orange robe...an awkward sight, but he came from money, and his money would sustained the fleet. "Speaking of which, I think I see our rising star now. Pardon us, Councillor Martog, I'm glad we got a chance to speak. I'm going to see about what you asked for right now, actually. Come Rhona, I want to introduce you to someone you're going to be seeing more of." He bowed and turned away moving in the direction of a tall Nordic woman. "I pray he's much more serious about our campaign than you are."

Eurachis winced playfully, "You wound me, Admiral. Firstly, I take our campaign plenty serious, I just prefer to add some color to what we do. Secondly, it's not a he, but a she." He stopped behind an attractive, yet intimidating woman. "Allow me to introduce, Lady Vesperia."

[Dutch]

The click of his polished shoes would sound in an even rhythm as his stride carried him. His eyes would look up at the fortress that loomed above all who made their way towards the entrance of the gala. There were few people that looked to not be of human or near-human descent, not unusual considering the racist reputation among the Sith. Colors and decadent looking fabrics clashed and combined among the people. Even outside there were ushers that greeted the rich and 'important' of the Sith, both Order and Aristocracy. Those vivid green eyes would check out many fine dress, and the bodies that wore them. They needed to do events like this more often.

Jessoin smiled smugly at any who looked upon him, the man barely able to contain his glee. He did so enjoy the finer things in life. Expensive booze, stunning women, a pile of sugar as high as he was tall, and fine clothing. And Jess was indeed dressed quite dapper for this evening. He had awoken to find the outfit set aside for him already with a note: Thought this fit you better than 'Dog'.- Bellinda Jess would never admit it, but that made him smile. Truly, genuinely smile. He counted himself grateful that Bellinda couldn't see the grins she caused him. That same outfit now was worn by the Zelosian, and apparently Bellinda had nailed his measurements without even asking.

His over coat with tails a richly textured Naboo cotton in pitch black color. Beneath that a vivid green vest with a scaled pattern. The scales outlined in gold with a slight shimmer to it, and the vest itself in a smooth silk. About his neck instead of a traditional cravat, an ascot of black with a tiny gold and emerald pin in the center of it, fashioned into the symbol of the Sith Order. White gloves complete the main outfit, obviously tailored to fit him perfectly. Clutched in his long fingers he held an ornate cane. Gold and black, the snake slithers and curls about the gleaming dark wood of the cane before forming the handle, the snake's maw opened wide a gleaming cut gem in sparkling green. Jess was already quite fond of the cane, and smiled to himself for a moment as his plan for it came to mind.

With a quick stride he ascended the stairs to the entrance. Jess noted some familiar faces from about the Order, but the majority he did not recognize. He truly never had an idea for just how populated the Aristocracy was until this moment. With the word of both Renata and Eurachis to show about, many people from both sides of the Sith would want face time with the Darths. He reached the massive bouncer and with a smooth smile Jess bowed his head and gave his name, only to hear a curse from behind.

He peered lazily over his shoulder to suddenly grin wickedly at the site of a familiar face. Short blonde hair, a snooty upturned nose. The child of one of the Aristocracy, also a Sith Initiate. Jess turned around slowly to take a couple steps down to his level all the while his gleeful green eyes never left the young man's. Weeks ago, Jessoin had shamed him in front of the Overlord and many other Sith for his insolence.

"You can't touch me Dog, my father is here and if he-"

The boys words were cut off as Jess backhanded him across the face (but not before removing his glove first). The blonde's jaw dropped and he clutched his face. His blue eyes glared up at Jessoin who smiled pleasantly down at him. He went to speak again but Jess held the same hand up to backhand him again, and the young man shut his mouth. Jessoin said nothing in response, only smiled that same smarmy smile before he turned around to ascend the stairs once more.

Jessoin entered with perfect timing as he noted Eurachis several folk before him. He looked around to see many familiar faces now. Bellinda, Sebastian, Makura, Gabby, Zarene, Nieraan, Tesa, and to his surprise, Danica. Whom he had met years before on Nar Shadaa, before he even was Sith. And so many more. A masked man talked with the group, Callidus with a bunch of nasty looking Trandoshans. He grinned as he began to saunter towards the group, and readily accepted a glass of champagne. He neared the group and laughed as the lights began to dim. Jess took this moment to slide and stride through the crowd. The lights would raise once more to reveal Jessoin among the group, smile wide and his arm now perched over Tesa's shoulders.

"So you did get my message about coordinating our attire!"

He beamed down at Tesa before he shot the group a wink. His eyes turned to Callidus. Jess understood the man liked to remain anonymous or something, but how was he supposed to drink at all.

"My Lord, I must ask, did you bring a straw for you to enjoy your refreshments?"

After Jess spoke he looked out to the crowd and noted Eurachis once more. He had only met the man once or twice, but couldn't help but grow fond of the Darth. Another man who truly did appreciate what life had to offer, and Jess tilted his head in greeting to the Darth, all the while that smarmy grin still plastered across his face.

[Moonfire]

”I am not sure your Initiates appreciate the honor.”

Danica’s voice was sultry, with a certain edge to it. It was more casual now, compared to their first meeting. Renata had brought the two women together to coordinate the event, Danica’s connections and ability to understand colors and décor coordination had been a life-saver to the Miraluka. She could schedule events and make arrangements and set times, but such things are red and blues and ‘atmospheric lighting’ were beyond her comprehension. Through their joining though the petite Sith woman found rare companionship, as well as get the Ball together and on in just a few sleepless, stressful nights.

“Serving your betters is the greatest of honors, Danica." She smiled cheekily, tilting back her fluted glass.

The sweet summer wine tickled Bellinda’s throat happily as it went down, the taste simple, yet so refreshing. It was a nice wine from Jaemus, though not quite the vintage they enjoyed at home on Corellia. No, no. Luxuries from the Core weren’t welcomed here, so the Jaemian wine would do. Bellinda couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all, her internally mulling over wines and their regions, when in the last decade she had been a Jedi, homeless, a dive prowler. Now she stood, with the help of an intricate and ornate cane feeling critical towards a drink she paid for with someone elses money. How things have changed.

Danica’s compliments brought a glow to the young woman’s face. The dress had been an impulsive pick, one she had commissioned after feeling the delicate texture of the feathers, the softness of the feathers beneath the lightest of touches. Tesa had helped, with colors and with ideas. Blue, oceans and sky. Green, grass and growth. She too was a good friend, a rare breed in a nest of hornets, and promised a surprise of her own with her outfit.

“Thank you,” The woman said, voice cheery and bright, though unable to return the compliment. Danica merely a silhouette, alive and glowing with the force against a stark background, blotting out those that mingled about her. She could always compliment on her figure, or the cut, but never could find the words that didn’t strike her as lame or awkward.
Just as the dark haired woman spoke of meeting with the most important of guests an overwhelming aura approached them.

“Lady Vesperia,” The name sang from Bellinda’s painted lips with a smile, nodding her head down respectfully to the master as she introduced herself to Danica. Her presence was as immense as her stature, and awe-inspiring. The way the force moved about her, aura swirling with both intense passion and cool, control. Bellinda extended a small skeletal hand to her, head still bowed. “A please meeting you, Mi’lady. I’m Renata’s newest Apprentice, Bellinda Maskrr. Danica did a fantastic job on the décor from what I’m told.” She smiled, wide and genuine beneath the curtain like mask that dangled from her intricate headdress.

The sheer power that emanated from one being all but consumed the area around them, and before Bellinda could apologized for her sudden introduction an arm wrapped about her waist, the nickname she secretly cherished dancing in her ear.

Sebastian Monroe, her date for the evening had finally spotted her, having wandered off towards the bar earlier in the night when she and Danica were still making last minute adjustments.

“There you are.” She echoed playfully, settling herself back comfortably in his grasp, enjoying the weight of his hand possessively holding her petite hip. Bellinda resisting the urge to press closer into him, the warm cologne and expensive and no doubt delightfully textured suit begging for a cuddle, but this was a business affair, she was by all accounts working. A few more drinks perhaps, and then she’d allow herself such freedom of excessive public affection.

Another Lord wandered forward, someone familiar with Danica once more, introducing himself. After making the necessary introductions for herself to Callidus, Bellinda turned up, as though looking into the face of Sebastian before smiling as the others.

“Danica, my lord and lady, allow me to introduce to Sebastian Monroe, CEO of Adega Airlines, and huge contributor to the war effort, as well as being a close personal friend of mine.” Bellinda beamed with pride. “Sebastian, this is Danica Liviana of Livco, Lady Vesperia and you’ve already met Lord Callidus.” The woman said with a smooth movement of her hand to each guest in turn.

Within moments another swirl of familiar aura arrived to which the petite redhaired woman’s ever present smile widened all the more. Tesa, her dress of molten gold and ruffling feathers stepped forward, a vision in and of herself.

“Tesa! I’m so glad you could make it,” twisting about on her cane, Bellinda regarded the others in the makeshift group. “Everyone, Tesa here is single-handedly responsible for the gown I’m wearing tonight. So, any compliments or complaints should be addressed rightly to her.” Motioning the near-human beauty that had joined them, before smiling again, silently addressing her dear friend’s concerns.

No, not all. This is the one I was telling you about.

And with that the room went quiet, suddenly hushed for no reason, and in its wake Renata’s voice, fluid and silky filled her mind. Focusing on the wild, erratic aura of her Mistress, Bellinda watched the grand entrance. The stirring words of chains being broken, of freedom and power for all. The Republic would fall, that was given, they could all feel it in their hearts and their souls. They were the heroes, here. At least, that’s how Renata made them feel.

And then Jessoin made himself known, wrapping himself about Tesa in the moment, his slinky, serpentine voice breaking the silence of Renata’s empowering speech. Bellinda refrained from a chuckle though, turning away before registering Tesa’s reaction to Bellinda’s brother-in-arms.

“Mercutio, the patchy ringmaster of the infamous Black Danse Troupe, fresh from Zeltros for your entertaining pleasure, ladies and gentlemen.” The woman said, motioning to the flamboyant man who had spent the better part of the moment all but mocking the masked Sith Lord.

Introductions finally done for the moment Bellinda pat her hand over Sebastian’s at her waist, asking in a soft voice all for him.

“Having fun dear?”

As he answered she watched as a new aura filled her vision, this one much more complex... depth even. The impressive figured man stepped forward, addressing the woman at his arm. He appeared at first a simple man, unremarkable in every way, but as he stepped closer and she looked longer, brow wrinkled in concentration something seemed to linger beneath the surface.

Beneath this veneer, this presence moved, like a living fire. A small ember, barely visible at first, but flickering, insistent. Locked away deep within this man swirled and moved a living monster in the force. Bellinda shuddered visibly against her date, feeling her stomach lurch, merely watching the dark creature before her.

Such rage and fearsome energy, if not contained as it was now, would have unsettled the ball, unsettled them all. But she was the only one who could see it now... The overwhelming aura of Darth Eurachis that was held back with such exquisite restraint. It was both frightening and enviable.

"Lord Eurachis, I hope everything here is to you liking." Bellinda bowed her head lightly, red curls moving as she did, respect evident in her voice.

This ball was going to be an interesting evening, that was for sure.

[Poludnica]

As the room filled with guests and mirthful noises, Danica felt her stomach twisting into a knot. So many important people, so many possibilities and dangers. The dark haired woman was not a novice to such parties but something different than usual hid in a soft rustle of expensive dresses and greeting murmurs. She could sense this tense thrill swirling in the air – new and exciting experience. So many Fore users in one place, allied with the darkside. A part of her wished to see the growing crowd through the fabric of that incomprehensible power.

Her green eyes vigilantly drifted toward the initiates who didn't look this happy with the sudden servitude. ”I am not sure I have it in me to do it.” Danica commented silently, reaching for a glass fill with thick, semi sweet Coruscant wine. She made sure it was very expensive, with a scent of luxury and decadence. The idly wondered how many of those people actually tasted such refine thing – most of the Order probably came from some kind of slums or the Jedi. Not the most genteel creatures, not someone she was used to seeing on such parties.

In before she could add something more to her unsuspected compliment, a rush of air made her look at the horrendously tall woman. Danica's eyes widened briefly and 'what did they feed you with' almost left the crimson painted lips. It didn't help the Epicanthix' dress was white, adding to her height and mass. It took the Coruscanti businesswoman a moment to react and pull away the awkward, surprise stare. ”Lady Vesperia, pleasure to meet you.” She bowed her head politely, ignoring rather bored and impassive tone that crept in the other woman's voice. Maybe after few drink Vesperia would become more fun and bearable company, though Danica still weighed with utmost care if she was someone worth associating with.

During this short exchange another person appeared near by, no one else but Bellinda's date. A well educated and sophisticated man with rather pleasant attitude. Strangely what in most eyes made him appealing strangely put Danica off. That made her think actually...Where was her own almost but not quite date? With a polite nod at Monroe, the dark haired women watchfully scanned the growing crowd, feeling rising anxiety that immediately faded away when she found Nieraan. Replaced by slowly smoldering anger. Danica saw no point in sneaking around, which made her feel ignored and forlorn. The Firrerreo wasn't even looking at her but from what it seemed at his ghoulish friend Makura.

Fine, if he preferred this company! The angry thought was proceeded with downing the rest of her wine.

Feeling her cheeks turning slightly crimson under carefully done make up, the woman shrugged dismissively with 'at least you don't look like a riffraff today' afterthought she returned her attention to others as well as now empty glass. Huh.. Where did the alcohol go? Danica quickly reached for another refill when her gaze caught an ugly lizard. ”What in the Makers name those slovenly creatures are doing here?” The woman asked with shocked abhorrence. A dark, detached frown formed between her raven, carefully plucked eyebrows and only after a moment she realized they were just bodyguards. Not to mention such racism wasn't really welcomed in the Outer Rim but old habits died hard. Smiling skittishly to hide the embarrassment, Danica greeted one of the few Sith she had really known there. ”Lord Callidus, I hope all is well.” The woman said, exhaling softly, praying no one heard the demeaning comment. Especially not Callidus.

To escape any further shame, Danica stepped away from the group that had gathered around them, flicking her over the room once more, to her utter displeasure finding an Echani woman draped in something that looked like bedsheets and pajama rather than a fancy dress. Something like that wouldn't happen on Coruscant parties Cassius had thrown. Such lack of decency and taste! Danica rubbed her temples behind which a stress induced headache nestled already. It was time to reach for the third glass.

One curious figure caught her attention – a woman with half of her face masked. By the look of it, an Epicanthix as well. But it quickly returned back to the nearest gathering, just in time to hear jeering comment from a Humani performer. Soft snort escaped Danica at this, mean as it could sound. She couldn't quite decide if hiring that particular troupe was a bad idea or not even if terribly entertaining. That was when Renata appeared, looking quite stunning. It was refreshing to see there were Sith that knew how appearance were important. In silence she listened to the speech that made her feel strange, stirring emotions which normally was never a case. Danica just loathed pompous speeches. That left her mildly impressed, the only other person that had done it was Cassius...Now that was a bad connotation, one better to drown in wine.

After the third glass she began to notice a slight buzz, which meant it was time to make some break. But that tasted so sweet...And bits of frustration with Nieraan were almost gone thanks to it. By now with bored indifference Danica could look at a really awkward Noghri making one of the chairs he was sitting on a particularly ugly view. If Trandoshans were here, why not a Noghri. Thankfully, there was also Tesa, a woman she hadn't met so far but heard from Bellinda – and for once someone pleasant to look at. Danica liked aesthetic things, like a proper snob.

During the feverish introductions the Miraluka took upon herself a couple approached them. Danica gave them a quick glance, not really recognizing the newly arrived. She would certainly remember a woman with such square jaw. ”Lady Vesp...” Dany turned to the towering Epicanthix, finally hoping to start some mingling when the bald man ignored her presence entirely, cutting in mid sentence. It made her whip her head and measure the rude...whoever that was...with burning, fiery gaze. One didn't have need Force to notice that anger.

”Speaking of introductions, I guess you are a man that can't wait for his turn.” Danica smiled, hiding a small jab behind sweet demeanor. Who the man thought he was? Then again, he did look better in white than Vesperia, at least that. The newly found layers of irritation began to boil under the carefully controlled surface. Until Bellinda greeted the irritating man with a threateningly sounding title and so much fearful respect that the air around them turned cold.

Oh crap.. The Coruscanti woman blanched ever so lightly in before her cheeks turned vivid crimson...This wasn't her night apparently. As she was pondering how to apologize and retain some amounts of dignity, a tall, dark haired man appeared in a flashy, well tailored suit. Looked like Tesa's date...That turned Danica's mood into much more sour than it had already been. She was alone at a fancy ball – unacceptable and downright infuriating. Even Callidus had few Trandoshans - whatever floated is boat. The CEO swallowed the bitter fact and decided certain someone would hear few unpleasant words afterward.

Idly, losing a bit of motivation to meet new people, her gaze slid to the tall man whose smile looked vaguely familiar. The new information took few moments to process through alcohol dulled neurons before all clicked into place. The woman's eyes widened and endless disbelief crept on her oval features. ”Jessoin?” Danica blinked, still believing it had to be some kind of mistake.

[Cavalry King]

Callidus made his way around the small group that assembled and shook hands with any who offered them. He spoke pleasantly and cheerfully. He noticed his "friends" were attracting some attention. He pretended to be oblivious to them, but they were getting his message across. He wished to make himself known to the rest of the order after spending much of the past year in seclusion, meditating, training, writing his book, and running his businesses. He usually preferred to run under the radar, but in recent times he decided he wished for a more overt presence and power within the order. How else to attain that except to make friends, allies, and let people know you exist. The bodyguards were there as a sign that he was not one to be trifled with and would never let his guard down. The guards were Trandoshan for a reason, so that their purpose could be easily spotted.

Callidus was a master of telepathic force techniques, unless someone was skilled and making a conscious effort to mask their thoughts, Callidus could usually read at the least the surface thoughts of most beings. This room teemed with the arrogance, disrespect, and foolishness that plagued the Sith order. Many here knew nothing of respect for their betters. They failed to comprehend the meaning and necessity of his ways. It was of no consequence. Their shortsightedness would be their own undoing. Callidus would maintain his extremely well polished diplomatic demeanor and pretend as if he did not know what they thought of him. He asked one of the waiters for the drink he previously had asked to be put on special reserve for him - it was imported Corellian Brandy. Granted it was distilled by Callidus' himself, only he did so as his alter ego Archduke Julius Magnus-Solo III. By having it done through the normal channels, his Callidus identity would have less connection with his republic identity.

The first one to address him directly was a strange looking man, dressed in what appeared to be a fool's garb. The man was strange. Callidus detected no force sensitivity in the man. Perhaps he was here as entertainment? Had this been in the shadows of the underworld where Callidus ran a criminal enterprise, he liked would have choked the man into quick submission. Callidus allowed the thought to pass, now was time to diplomatic. Callidus laughed at the man's comments, genuinely amused by the antics. As this was a formal occasion, Callidus spoke with all the bearings and accent of a highly educated, Corellian noble accustomed to such affairs. He was confident, yet not arrogant. His tone was smooth, calm, and friendly, "Well aren't you an interesting one. You are fortunate that I have a sense of humor. Truly it is a pity that many of my compatriots lack such senses. Sith can be so brooding sometimes." The fact that the jester had not introduced himself first before speaking to Callidus, much less asking for Callidus to name himself first, was extremely irritating. Callidus' aristocratic sensibilities were offended, but he would not allow it to show.

He looked the man over and nodded his head approvingly, "Interesting indeed. Unfortunately the visage I hide beneath this mask is quite plain. However, I have found that subtly has its uses. I am known as Lord Callidus." Callidus raised the glass of brandy to his mouth. As he did so the piece covering his mouth slid into the left side of his mask, exposing only a small area around his mouth. Callidus took in his drink and savored it for a few moments before replying in a friendly manner to the Sith to his side that he did not know, "Fortunately my mask is designed to allow me to dine and drink normally when I wish to. I do not believe we have met, I am known as Lord Callidus." When the glass was lowered, the mouth covering slid smoothly back into place.

Callidus suddenly found himself the object of several people's attention. He was being introduced to and welcomed by several. He was a politician in one of his alter egos and he fluidly shifted from conversation to conversation. He warmly greeted any and all. He laughed when Danica insulted his bodyguard detachment. It reminded him of her father. When it came to Danica, Callidus found himself more and more trying to fill the father role that Cassius had so destructively abandoned. Callidus smiled, "All is well with me, thank you. This is quite the gathering you have put together. Impressive. Truly. Perhaps I should have you and your associate help me coordinate an occasion at my place. If there is anything me or my slovenly creatures can do to help, please don't hesitate to ask." He teased her with his last sentence, knowing that his repetition of the phrase would embarrass her.

[Swamps]

Mercutio allowed a warm grin to creep across his face as he watched the masked man chuckle to himself before exhaling in relief. He had been banking on the fact that this man had the temperament to handle his jibes and had tried not to think about what may have happened if he had not. A skewered Humani would have ruined more than just the little Sith soiree. But as he had told himself earlier entertaining required nervousness, just an ounce of fear. It kept you on your toes and kept those toes a-thinking. If you felt safe you quickly became inept, unprepared. Fear bred spontaneity and improvisation as well as the most major sort of thrill.

"Well aren't you an interesting one. You are fortunate that I have a sense of humour. Truly it is a pity that many of my compatriots lack such senses. Sith can be so brooding sometimes."

He spoke smoothly and with a sort of clean friendliness that suggested great control and technique behind his mask. The mask that although covering every facet of the man's face allowed him to speak unhindered... A true man of mystery.

"Indeed, it's all the dark colours and nefarious deeds. Perhaps, as an Order, you could coordinate robes? Maybe some lighter colours or floral patterns would crack that brooding image!"

Mercutio joked, the Sith were certainly a mixed bag fashion-wise. Many would have attended such a ball in their humdrum robes whilst some stood out amongst the throngs in wonderful outfits. He spied a raven-haired girl all decked-out in a sleek, golden number with numerous black feathers swirling up its side, their centres punctuated with shimmering stones. Feathers seemed to be the name of the game, he thought as his eyes danced over to Bellinda and Danica's dresses. Bellinda wore a long, flowing frock of blue and green feathers with glittering stones worked into the fabric. He approved, even if she could not see in order to herself. Danica however boasted a far bolder affair, all deep blacks and blood reds. A louder and much more unavoidable beauty when compared with Bellinda's quieter and seemingly humble prettiness. He knew which he would prefer.

"Interesting indeed. Unfortunately the visage I hide beneath this mask is quite plain. However, I have found that subtly has its uses. I am known as Lord Callidus."

Lord Callidus, the name certainly fitted him. As sinister and as "pomp and circumstance" as the man who it belonged to. Mercutio was about to respond again but was caught mid-flow by another at his side. A man with a sparkling smile that, for Mercutio, felt like looking in the mirror. That same mischievous spark, the urge to test boundaries and cause upset. Glancing down at the man's emerald-scaled waistcoat, framed on each side by the pitch black curtains of his long-tailed overcoat Mercutio found attire that he most approved of. The man wore stark white gloves and in one of them twirled an intricately-constructed cane around which swirled and slithered a shimmering serpent. Mercutio's smile widened when the cane-twirling man poked fun at the Lord also. If he had just come in a black tuxedo nobody would have cared he was there but all hidden away and guarded? Well, the phrase 'tempting fate' came to mind.

Mercutio raised a hand to stifle a chuckle as a panel slid out of the mask and Lord Callidus drank deeply from a glass of amber fluid which looked like some form of brandy, perhaps Corellian. Brandy from the core worlds always had more transparency to it when compared to the darker, fuller sorts from further out. As the Lord turned to be introduced to a multitude of people so Mercutio turned to the cane-twirling man.

"Bravo. It seems we share a sport, mister..."

Mercutio held out his right hand to the man and waited for a name. Surely this was the beginning of a beautiful friendship...

[Foxfire]

The force sig mixed and swirlled with Honog's mind and visions. Then the watchful eyes of a sith fell upon him. The touch made him wake from his mediation. Focusing his eyes on who was watching him, Danica. A sith he knew little about but she felt the same as all the rest. Thinking themselves higher than the force they weild. He tried to get up only to find that a back plate had hinged between to slats of the chair. A bit of anger rose within him. Slowly entering back into the flow of the force at a minor level of power Honog directed a bit of it to the chair slats.

A 'snap' and one of the slats broke free allowing the noghri to turn in the chair and remove the rest of the slat. Getting up he looked around seeing the food at the far end of the room across from him and with the powerful sith between him and it. Sighing he move slowly with the grace of a noghri hunter. Lite on his feet and quick stepping Honog moved through the crowd. Getting near to the powerful sith he lowered his eyes and moved around them quietly shutting down his presonce within the force.

Quietly and silent within the crowd and in the force the noghri slid past them. On the other side of the group he picked up the pace to get to the food. Picking a plate he selected small portions of food. Grabbing another glass of wine he moved to a near-by window. Looking down, he was able to see the sith hounds below looking back at him. Looking back at the table he went back for a hand full of meat set aside for cooking. Gathering a small amount of the meat he moved back to the window. Opening it he tossed a few pieces out the window. Keeping his back to the group he watched them slowly eat.