Welcome to the Club (Open)

[Kressara Thryn]

The tension between those two was stifling. If Kressara hadn’t been accustomed to temperamental sith and the ’appropriate training methods’ many of her peers practiced, she might have backed out of the conversation entirely.

“And that worked for you both, did it?” The dolled up assassin mused, tapping her finger on the bar to order a drink. “Sparkling sunrise, please. Heavy handed~” She purred to the bartender, who smirked back at the familiar blonde and teased, “Starting early, boss?” A blush peaked out from underneath her mask. “I’m not drinking too much tonight! Not until the guests leave, anyways.” Winking, she returned her attention to the feuding pair.

“Aliclair, I know you don’t have much reason to listen to a washed up glitbiter, but the professor really isn’t bad people. He’s just…socially inept. Really? Drugging her? You’ve been hanging out around me too much, Sa’ato. We don’t forcibly dose comrades, my friend, that’s how you get students like me.” She was joking around, as always. Still, there was always a hint of truth behind the careless manner of her speech. Noticing another familiar face entering the gala, Kressara took up her drink once it was slid over the bar top and stated, “It’s done now and you’re both at a lovely party. You might as well forget your tiff for a while and enjoy your time. Otherwise, what’s the point of looking so lovely?”

Stepping between them, she softly bumped Ali with her hip and nudged the professor with her arm. “You both really do look splendid and it’s a beautiful night. Don’t waste it, hmm?”

Saunter off, Kressara’s heels clicked through the partygoers to find Kita and a new face sitting at one of the tables. Announcing herself, she approached with a sunny expression. “Well, look who we have here! It’s not every day I get to see Kita in red.” She pulled out a chair next to them and extended a gloved hand towards Vidaa. “I’m Kressara! Welcome to the gala! You’re both looking dreamy tonight. Maybe the classiest duo in the whole club. Who’s this?” She’d wait for an answer before thinking to add, “Are you both comfortable? Having fun? If I can get you anything, let me know.”

[Darth Fett]

“You may announce my arrival now,” she said, holding a tiny disc that erupted in blue light, with pre rendered message in a rotating display of Aurebesh characters.

The young man to which she presented the request did not in fact work for the venue or for their host. He was the date of one fellow guest, a Viscount for some unsubstantiated colonial claims on one of the lesser “-tooines.” The sheer offense of being mistaken for the help turned him shades previously unknown to him; in fairness, there were certain hues of skin he prefered not acknowledge in general.

He dressed her down with a condescending ocular pat down. She wore a brilliant shaw made of the finest silk, with intricate patterns depicting the great battles of the Hyperspace Wars, in an abstract and highbrow art style. She had amazing bone structure and perhaps it was his aversion to making eye contact with those he didn’t consider his betters, but he only just made the discovery that he could not have made eye contact regardless. The woman had shallow, smooth recesses where eyes normally resided. What was more, she wore a mask that served only to emphasize her lack of eyeballs.

“Of course, I will compensate you for your troubles,” she extended her free palm to her left, expectantly. Just like that, her own companion placed an extravagant wallet made from Neti bark into her glove. The object bloomed, giving a hint of what awaited inside. Pure beskar. Albeit thin cards, but more than enough to raise an eyebrow. And so it did.

The Viscount stood at attention and cleared his throat before displaying the fruits of all of his years of elocution lessons.

“Lady! Aya-me! Ru-ya! Prophet of the Ancient Ones! Owner and Practitioner! of the Prestigious! Academy! of! the Dying!”

She smiled, expectantly. He hadn’t earned a tip yet.

He glared at her, having previewed the following line. His eyes pleaded with her for far too long before remembering she was blind, to the best of his understanding.

“and. her indentured student and plaything, who doesn’t receive a name, for he hasn’t earned one.”

He had properly died inside.

“There’s a good lad.”

She tilted her head and her companion reached into the purse. The Viscount was practically drooling, before he was presented a single Imperial Credit. Righteous indignation struck him, but before he could act on it, Ayame’s companion placed his hand on the Viscount’s shoulder, causing his knees to buckle and all air to flee his lungs. To a casual observer, it would have appeared as if the companion was helping the man regain his footing after an unprovoked dizzy spell. Before he could collect himself, the pair were already deep in the venue and he was far from their minds.

Ayame had shed her shaw, wrapping it effortlessly around her companion’s neck like a leash.
Beneath the shaw there had been an elegant grey gown with gold accents and trim. Her companion’s suit was a matching material and color. Both had black masks with gold embellishments, but where hers served to accentuate the unique features of her face, his entirely obscured them. Even where eye holes existed, black fabric lined his mask to ensure anonymity.

Now they were inside.

Ayame was determined to enjoy herself, a pleasure that in no small measure was enhanced by abuse of her manservant.

[Yarkar Edetar]

Yarkar sat in deep thought. Struggles that felt like ancient callings rushed through his head. Cruel thoughts of vengeance rushed through his head like water. Yet, with the beating of a hand against a door, Yarkar was startled out of it all. Suddenly he jolted upwards, grabbing his weapon. No one should be disturbing him, especially at this hour. It was early in the morning, and Yarkar had not yet finished with thinking upon his next move. He hadn't found anyone yet who dared to knock upon his door, that was, at least in his mind, until now. The door rose, revealing a tall man with shark-like teeth. He looked a little grumpy, but so did Yarkar. His hair had frizzed up in the rude awakening, and his saber danced in his palm as he scowled.

"Now what brings you here? Don't you know that I'm busy? I'm not here to settle petty squabbles or deal with minor inconveniences, so do make your request brief. I need to get back to my meditation."

His eyes looked upon the hybrid shark with a hint of tiredness mixed with a twinge of animosity. They definitely hadn't gotten off on the right foot with loud banging on his door only an hour or so after day broke without announcing themselves. Anyone who was strong enough for him to bother using formalities with would not have bothered knocking or would have announced themselves much more clearly. This man did nothing of the sort, how strange.

[Aliclair Austjor]

At first, the feline hybrid rolled her eyes. All Sith had something to gain from another torment. Or, from her thoughts and experiences. But, seeing the Neti's face tell a different story caused a slight ping of guilt to claw her chest. Her ear briefly flicked as her features softened and turned to stare at the bar counter as her mind wondered. Of course, what the Professor had offered was a lesson. One she couldn't forget even if she tried. But, it was between the trials she had to endure; almost being eaten alive, traversing a hell storm when she could've been in her rooms with her studies or furthering herself in the ways of the Force. The time on Cholganna proved to give her some abilities and insight. Being trapped against her will with the forest as her resource was a matter of unpleasantries. It did raise the question of her fear of abandonment. It didn't cure it, rather replaced it with a sense of if she were to be abandoned, she would need to keep on trucking forward to survive. To find another path. Another reason to live. A harsh lesson to learn harsh reality but. It did achieve something within the feline.

A mixture of Kressara's words and her bumping into Ali's hip broke her from her concentration, looking upon her for the brief seconds she was there and listening to her. To her bitterness, the glitter-blond assassin was correct. They were at a party. Exhaling a pent sigh, Ali looked toward Sa'ato with a slight dip of her head. "I apologize for my attitude. While justified, there are better times to release frustration. But never in a place like this." She started, her pointer finger tracing the edge of her drink. Ali sat in silence before getting to get feet with a brief but civilized stretch. "I don't suppose you have any knowledge for this shindig?" It was a hesitant question but it was said nonetheless. "Or do all your lessons revolve around playing God with other people's lives?" She finished, letting her arms rest infront of her, her hand resting on the other.

[Kenzkei Furlave]

After a long week of sorting through the collection of random items and junk Kenzkei had inherited from one of her supporters, she received a strange letter in the mail in her new home. The letter, of course, wasn’t addressed to her, but to the mysterious man who had left her all of his belongings after his passing.

Kenzkei held the right red envelope in her hand, looking at the glittery gold text with the familiar name of Gareth Spingleheimer. She met him once but still didn’t quite understand what made him write her into his will and ignore his children completely.

“Well I might as well open it, he won’t be able to,” Kenz thought to herself. She whipped out her knife and opened the envelope, taking the thick cream-colored paper out to read it.

Dear Gareth Spingleheimer

“You are formally invited to Eufornis Major Sector 11, at Club Mirror Mirror, Just wear something nice and make an entrance. Come in with that swagger, if you know what I mean. Don’t worry about any conflict, we have precautions in place to ensure your safety.

I look forward to your attendance, feel free to bring a plus one.

Best,

The name was smudged out, and the invitation was pretty unspecific but Kenz wasn’t unsettled. The heavy gut feeling she usually got when she felt something was going to go wrong wasn’t there. Besides, he was allowed to bring a plus one, so why couldn't that be her? Maybe she would learn more about who he was or why he had so many old, expensive droids sitting around in an abandoned house on Tattoine.

“Apparently, I need swagger” Kenz thought to herself, and with the new money she had from winning that race she could afford to buy something nice. She had plenty of outfits to make sure she got the desired attention from sponsors seeking sponsees, but this felt a little more classy.

Kenz settled for a sunset orange dress, the dress was short with loose ruffles stopping above her knees and tightening above her waist. She figured the square neckline would be revealing enough to look good, but nothing obnoxious. The sleeves were short and puffy, and the silk glimmered under the sunlight. It was classy but convenient. To finish the look, Kenz pulled her hair into a half up half down style showing off her curly golden brown hair.

Before she left, Kenz put on her new gold necklace with the golden crystal that she had found the days prior, it seemed to bring her a comfort she couldn't quite describe and helped her feel more confident.

As Kenzkei flew to Eufornis Major she couldn't help but think about how quickly her life had changed. She was about to go to a high class party on some planet she had never even heard of. Life was seemingly becoming something out of her wildest dreams, and yet here she was. She smirked to herself thinking of the possibilities for the night, but zoned back into reality when she remembered that she wasn't invited to this party, her dead mystery sponsor was. She had to be cordial and polite and if anyone asked any questions she would have to explain why she was here to represent him.

The ship pulled out of hyperspace, and she looked over the planet in front of her. This was one of the first few times she had left Tatooine, and she had no clue what she was getting herself into. She landed the ship and drove her new bike to the Mirror Mirror club. She worried about her hair getting messed up but it was already a mess of curls so it didn't matter all that much.

Kenz parked her bike outside the club and walked to the door. She was promptly patted down and was questioned for her invitation.
Kenz pulled out her invitation, “I'm here on behalf of Gareth Spingleheimer? He unfortunately couldn’t make it, but I'm here so…”. The man shrugged, not seeming to care all that much, especially after dealing with some of the other guests.

Kenzkei entered the club and was immediately overwhelmed by the architecture and mirrors. Her eyes scanned the room, looking at all the different people. Suddenly she felt more nervous and carefully walked around the room until she found herself at a waffle bar. The strangeness of the situation really began to occur to her. “It is what it is,” she shrugged and thought to herself. “It’s just a few hours, what could possibly go wrong?”

[Professor Mors]

Sa’ato blinked, eyes widened with a subtle hint of surprise. He had anticipated some manner of scolding from Aliclair, but Kressara, as always, was utterly unpredictable. It was, in truth, a light reprimand, but one he couldn't help but acknowledge. The Neti did not utter a response, but slowly and respectfully inclined his head, before raising an eyebrow at the blonde’s cheeky insinuation. The professor half-expected that the Felidae would use the lull in conversation to withdraw and fume elsewhere: but as it happened, there were still twists and turns to be had. Embedded in conviction and sharpness, the young woman offered up a sincere apology.

Sa’ato was rendered speechless once more, but recovered himself quickly enough so as to not appear disarmed. The Neti smirked in light of Ali’s seemingly loaded question. “Some might argue that a venue like this is the ideal place to vent frustration”, he countered lightly as he stood up from the bar, “Nonetheless, I appreciate the thought”. The retired academic rolled his shoulders and focused on his senses for a brief moment. A light, jaunty melody floated through the air, neither antiquated nor hyperactive as so much modern drivel was. A jizz tune perhaps, or the predecessor of one.

Regardless, the Neti recognized the hint of a challenge in Aliclair’s words, and, out of obligation or curiosity, he meant to oblige. “I never claimed to portray any deity”, Sa’ato chuckled softly, “But the powers that be will decide what steps I remember in a situation like this”. And with that, the professor began to walk away from the bar and toward the mass of partygoers swaying to the rhythm, more or less convinced that Ali would follow suit…

[Darth Fett]

“You know, the factories on Ukio where they produce that batter have a strict limit of one part pest feces per ten thousand, so you know it has to be top notch,” the voice playfully danced over Kenzkei’s left shoulder.

Had Ayame possessed any eyelids, surely a wink would have followed. She sidestepped to be at the new arrival’s side.

“I have to admit I’m a fan. I love the race you’re going to have across Lotho Minor in particular, dear. That maneuver with the crane? What a thrill.”

Her dry delivery mixed with her legitimate gift of foresight made her a baffling read.

Her manservant was nowhere to be found.

"We're so glad you've shaken all that sand out of your boots and graced us with your presence, no matter what name was on the invitation.”

Another wink in spirit.

[Kenzkei Furlave]

Kenzkei turned to face Ayame, nervous but impressed that they actually recognized her, especially at a party like this one.

“Oh, yeah, the waffles look great! I’ve never actually had one before. This whole party thing is a little new to me. It’s awesome to meet a fan, though, especially all the way out here. Come to think of it, I don’t think I caught your name?."

She paused for a moment, comprehending everything that the woman had said.

“Hold on, not to sound rude or anything, but my race in Lotho Minor isn’t for a few more weeks, at least by Tatooine standards. I’m not sure what you are talking about regarding the Crane maneuver? And how did you know the invitation wasn’t mine? Is this your party?”

Kenzkei looked at the woman deceptively. She seemed kind enough and Kenz wasn’t particularly concerned, but still found herself unsure if she was being heckled with.

[Kita_Ikari]

"So...what was up with that look you gave earlier?" Vidaa asked.

Kita hadn't spoken much to Vidaa about her personal life. Much less her romantic issues with Jacobi. "I'll explain later. Right now I'm not really in the mood to talk about it." She replied blankly.

Both Kita and Vidaa looked up from their drinks as Kressera approached them. Of course the crow of the sith was as elegant looking as ever. Kita always did find her personality and style very magnetic. No one would be able to avoid glancing her way when she entered a room. Unlike herself, the young sith was not as noticeable when walking through a entryway. Which usually worked in her benefit on occasion. So she had no complaints.

Quickly Kita's expression changed from a depressed one, to smiling at Kress brightly in reply to her comment. "Yea, can't wear Silver all the time. Need to change it up a little bit." She half joked. "Seriously though, recently the past couple of months had a bounty put on myself after a mission failed, so I had to dress differently and hide behind a mask for this event. And red seemed like the perfect choice." Taking a sip of her cocktail, she examined the crows full attire more closely. "I like your outfit also. Especially the gems around your eyes. I never thought you could be any more glitzy, but I stand corrected." She laughed.

The togruta watched silently as her master talked with the platinum blonde woman. As Kress extended a hand, Vidaa slowly shook it. Opening her mouth to speak for herself, her master had already began answering. "This is Vidaa. I obtained her from the Spire. She is now working for me with whatever i can't cover myself." Kita was careful not to use the word "rescue" around so many ears in the room. The young sith didn't want it to get around she was helping a slave. She could only imagine what her Master Tormentous would say at such a action.

Smiling, Kita nodded in response to Kress question.
"So far, yes. We are comfortable. Rather just enjoying watching the crowd for the moment."
Her blue gaze glanced briefly at Ali and Sa'ato
"Something go on between them?"

[Aliclair Austjor]

Aliclair sat there a moment, watching the neti through scanning eyes. With each passing moment, she just wanted to leave and continue her training. Her knicked brow raised slightly, than the feminine rolled her eyes again. However, she did think back to what Kressera had to say. One could never judge a book by their cover fully unless they opened it ip to read it. Or in this case, their oaken exterior. Though his lessons were questionable, it didn’t surprise her. And if anything, she learned the lesson effectively. Ontop of more combat experience. Her ears swiveled forward as he mentioned using his memory than proceeded his way to the dance floor. She blinked, watching him make his way. There was no way he actually knew how to dance. Byf than again, she knew nothing of the Neti Professor. Her eyes slightly squinted; curiosity got the better of her. Exhaling softly, she stood there for a while before taking the route of staying to the edge to observe from a distance. But, even her keen huntress eyes couldn’t pierce though the stroding lights of the dance floor. It was there she contemplated if her curiosity weighed her care.

Aliclair let out another sigh before making her way through the dancing crowd, trying her best to not bump into any of them. To no success. A passing dancer bumped into the hybrid, and with her having wrappings around her feet rather than shoes, she slipped with a yelp escaping her ebony lips as she stumbled a few inches until her body collided into another. Sa'ato's. Grunting lightly, the rough bump caused her to stumble the oppisete way and straight to the floor (OR leaving an opening for him to catch her if wanted). "Ouch..! G-Golly me, I'm.. sorry Professor." she huffed out despite being the one who went through physical, and emotional, turmoil of embarrassment.