Alliance Gala

[Cassanova]

This is a thread for any Galactic Alliance and New Jedi Order personnel only. This is a purely social event, and there is to be no violence. Furthermore there are a few conditions of this thread.

• Each community member may enter only one (1) character into the thread.
• All characters must be affiliated with the GA or NJO - no exceptions.
• There is no posting order, or cycle. But please try to be fair, where applicable.

If you have any questions, queries or comments regarding this thread.
Please PM me.

OOC Thread: Link

Otherwise: Enjoy!

---

It was a few weeks after the mission gone wrong on Lorta in the Outer Rim, and Juno had fully recovered. Even her broken arm had properly mended combining the use of conventional medicine, and the assistance of a Force Healer. Not many people mentioned that healing a broken bone in a massively reduced space of time was a remarkably uncomfortable experience. Nevertheless, Juno Armstrong - Padawan to Master al'Thor - had volunteered herself to get out and about. The event in question was the annual Galactic Alliance Gala.

The Gala was an event held annually to help relieve tension for members of the Alliance and Jedi Order, and to, more importantly, give them some official duties that were not combat related. Unfortunately, last year's Gala endured some unfortunate hostilities and as such, this year the screening process to gain entry was slightly tighter, and security at the venue was notably tighter. To the point at hand, however, the NJO and GA had united forces and rented out a level of a big-name Coruscani hotel. Large enough to house a few hundred people. Similar events were also being held throughout Alliance Territory, so all members of the Alliance and Jedi Order were able to attend and participate in some manner. However -- Coruscant was the place to be.

The hotel itself was of the five-star rating. The best and widest variety of food, and drink were supplied for the event -- mostly donated by the hotel's owner in appreciation of the efforts put in by the Jedi and Alliance. Overall it was a perfect night to relax, and interact with allies in a non-combat situation. Something so many needed in these troubled times.

Juno Armstrong, dressed up properly for the occasion, as it was a Black-Tie event. She entered the room, nodding amicably to the security officers who had requested her credentials and any weapons she had been carrying. She sighed as she exchanged her lightsaber, which had been cleverly stowed by two loops against the small of her back, for a small ticket.

Once she had been searched by the guards -- perhaps a little too thoroughly by one of them -- Juno entered the hotel's function room. Impeccably styled with a bar, some couches, and a dining area towards the end of the room, which had been set up to allow for a speech later in the evening. Luckily, Juno wasn't the first one here. In fact, she could have almost been said as arriving 'late', as it appeared that a number of soldiers were already working up the bar tab, and a few Jedi were socialising and mingling also. A non-combat environment. A pleasant change, to be sure.

---

Juno's Outfit for the Event: Link

 

[MoreThanSane]

It was pleasant. Excessively boring, perhaps, but to Sergeant Aelianus Atratinus most things were. He was simply relieved to be able to relax in a peaceful setting. He'd been run ragged over the previous several months, most notably and recently during a mission to Lorta wherein he'd been heavily injured. The last weeks had been spent healing, a process that had not yet been finished. There was still a wound where he'd taken a blaster bolt to his left thigh, but luckily it was no longer bleeding regularly. Despite a habitual disregard for social norms, even he would have refused to walk around in bloodstained trousers.

Leaning casually against the bar, the Sergeant watched smiling Jedi, soldiers, and dignitaries alike as they made their way through the room. He studied them, careful not to stare, fascinated by their little ticks and quirks, and filing them in his memory for possible later use. One could never absorb too much information, especially when that information related to one's surroundings.

"One vattle juice."

Aelianus reached back and took the beverage in his hand, nodding a thank you to the bartender. He was sure one of the more boisterous soldiers would comment on his drinking habits before the night was out. The dislike of alcohol tended to send a strange sort of inferiority signal, though Aelianus couldn't possibly understand why. Alcohol reduced the mind's efficiency and caused one to miss things. How could that be a desirable trait?

He shook his head. People were odd creatures.

Yet I seem to be obsessed with them. It was true, he'd always considered himself superior to the average person. He still did, actually, but he was beginning to recognize that they had a certain perception of things to which he was blind, and that bothered him. Since his return from Lorta he'd been focused intently on the expansion of his mind into the realm of psychology, not only on an academic level, but on the application of certain principles in his own life. With determination and perseverance, he hoped he would one day be capable of relating fully to the common person.

A movement caught his attention near the room's entrance, making him set his juice back on the counter. Slowly, silently, with smoothness borne of significant experience and training in the field of espionage and intelligence operations, Aelianus wove his way through the crowd, nearly invisible to any persons not actively searching for him.

He reached his target and stopped. Raising a hand, he tapped her gently on a bare shoulder. "Hello, Juno," he said simply.

 

[Garuga]

He was free. Free from a needy partner who constantly craved attention and reassurance. Free from having to wearily repeat the same words over and over again, time after time. Quay thumped down his rocks glass with some feeling and was immediately met with a scornful glare from the bartender.

Who was he lying to? He kriffing hated being single.

She might have been insecure and draining at times, but it was nevertheless a dynamic which he had become accustomed to. And it was hardly all bad. No matter how exasperated he was occasionally, Quay did adore her. Ultimately though it was she who brought up the topic of ending whatever it is they had. Maybe she wanted more, maybe she needed something else altogether. Quay didn't trust the reasons that she had provided, and by all means remembering the look on her face it didn't look like she was convinced of her reasons either. Perhaps he hadn't done a good job of it. No, he definitely didn't do a good job.

Quay was very visibly sulking, and when tall people like him hunch over as he was doing now, it was all the more noticeable. Stuff it, he had a free bar tab tonight and he was going to make full use of it. He had tried to convince himself before coming that he wouldn't be here to purely drink and brood, but it was in vain.

"A Smouldering Politician, if you would please." Quay said, mustering a polite smile.

Within moments, a decidedly dangerous looking beverage was passed into Quay's outreached hand. A red and very literally hot rum cocktail which happened to be one of his guilty pleasures. The Jedi Knight thanked the bartender and turned his attention briefly towards the ensemble of Alliance personnel and Jedi in the room. Was everyone else happy?

 

[Cassanova]

Juno was dispensing some pleasantries, exchanging some witty banter with a few politicians, brushing off the not-so-subtle attempts of flirting from a group of Alliance soldiers. She didn't mind -- it was all in good fun. Nonetheless, she moved towards the bar and leant over, and smiled to the bartender. "What's good?"

The bartender, probably only a few years older than Juno, smiled back, being sure to take special note of her stunning outfit, "Coruscant Coolers. Using in-season fruit juice from the latest crops."
Juno nodded in agreement, as the barkeep set to work. Several other bartenders worked the bar, keeping drinks filled up, the bar clean, and the snack bowls full. All in all, they had a night's work cut out for them but they were coping well.

All around the function room, conversation seemed light hearted and friendly; deep, hearty laughs could be heard from everyone, including some of the Jedi who usually are steel faced and all about business. Such things made Juno think that she would enjoy the New Jedi Order's philosophies much more than she would have the Order of the Galactic Republic. These modern ideals allowed Jedi to be people too. To have families, to love, to drink, and above all else -- to make mistakes. Something which every sentient needed to do to properly learn.

The muses of the young Jedi were interrupted by the gentle click of a glass in front of her. A vibrant blue and yellow layered beverage rest in front of her followed by a wink and a smile from the bartender. Juno smiled, "Thanks."

Turning to the side as she watched the crowd, Juno was looking for familiar faces to talk to, despite not having any aversion to meeting new people. Her wishes were granted when a tap came on her shoulder, "Hello Juno."

Turning around, and seeing the Sergeant, Juno smiled with schoolgirl passion and threw her arms around him, "Lee!"
Aelianus' groans made it clear he hadn't fully healed as she had, "Oh! Sorry!"

Juno had actually spent the last few weeks wondering what happened to Atratinus after the events on Lorta. She wasn't fully aware of how military procedure worked, but she knew that returning home with your squad killed in action was never a good thing. Admittedly, Juno and Aelianus, or 'Lee' as she had now grown to call him, barely made it out alive, and were only able to succeed the original mission due to a need of rescue. She dismissed the thought, and re-administered her attention to Lee.

"How are you?"

 

[Teynara]

Feeling ridiculous in an evening gown appropriate to the festivities, Teynara had to admit that this wasn't one of her better ideas, attending a formal function which was purely diplomatic in nature, as far as she was concerned. Everybody dressing up, drinking, dancing and talking politely, even when there's a war on... Frankly, she wouldn't have been even remotely surprised if someone took the opportunity to make trouble, purely because this was supposed to be one of the largest gatherings of GA and Jedi personnel outside of a warzone. And, of course, everybody's unarmed.

It wouldn't have been diplomatic not to go, so she'd gone out and bought a suitable dress, formal but not so formal that she could barely move in it, but definitely not so slinky that it meant she'd be a target for every red-blooded male in the vicinity. Could do without that sort of complication, for sure. The security check at the door had been slightly irksome, but a little gently-exerted telekinetic pressure had been enough to ensure that the weapons search had been entirely hands off. If a scanner couldn't pick up a weapon, there wasn't one. Besides, she rarely carried her lightsaber anyway.

Talk about the very epitome of bad taste, she thought, stepping through the doors leading into the main room, looking around and noting the rather expensive-looking furnishings. Nice, but you could probably feed a dozen families on tonight's drink tab alone. Didn't seem very appropriate for wartime, but it certainly explained a lot about why the GA was very much on the back foot compared to the Sith Imperium. They're ruthless and firmly intent on rule. We...talk, we debate, we try to make nice, even when we're not. Oh, not to mention that we still spend money living the fine life when we're being assailed from every angle by people who want us dead just to watch us die. A party seemed apt in that sort of atmosphere.

Still, she couldn't stay gloomy for long - last thing anybody wanted was a reminder of that depressing reality, even if it wasn't exactly going away. So, time to smile, make nice and blend in. If such could be said for a woman with primly tied-up blonde hair wearing a fairly unrevealing black dress and with feet strapped into heels that were frankly killing her one step at a time. Odd that I'd happily exchange this for some homespun robes and a comfortable pair of boots. She smiled at that, remembering how she had initially hated those, too. The irony hadn't escaped her.

She headed over to the bar as carefully as she could, moving with what little confidence she could muster when it was taking a fair amount of self-discipline just to stay balanced. She took a seat on one of the comfortable-looking stools there at the bar and swivelled herself around to face the bar itself.

"Uh, I'll have a cold Muja Juice, please," she said to the bartender, who raised an eyebrow, as if to say 'you realise there are tons of different alcoholic drinks here, and it's a free bar?', but she shrugged at his expression. She'd never been a big drinker anyway, and it didn't seem like a good idea for someone able to wield the Force to get even slightly intoxicated, so she was sticking to non-alcoholic beverages from now on. "No ice, though," she added, having always hated it when people did that.

The orange-red drink was placed on front of her and she picked it up with her right hand, feeling the coolness of the glass beneath her fingers and took a short, tentative sip, rolling it around her tastebuds a little. A tad sharp, but no pulp, which is always good. She smiled and nodded at the bartender, but he'd already moved on, working to prepare drinks for any one of the dozens of other people she could see in the room. Big crowd already, she thought.

A tall, well, slightly oversized man slouching over the bar drew her attention almost immediately. He wasn't trying to make eye contact and actually looked like he was going out of his way to avoid making any contact at all, sullenly making it obvious that he didn't really want to be here, if her read of his body language was correct. Some other poor soul forced into coming here for the sake of being polite, or so she thought. She shook her head slightly and smiled, then leaned over and nudged the man gently against the arm, that being the highest part of him that she could easily reach.

"A Smouldering Politician's not exactly the most diplomat of drinks to be having at an Alliance party, you know," she said with a smile, nodding at the man's drink. It didn't exactly look pleasant, but she'd seen it ordered a few times, and always with eventual regret on the part of the drinker. Which says the headache he's going to get tomorrow is probably going to be more pleasant than the prospect of facing this party sober, she thought wryly. "I know it's a GA function and all, but you don't exactly look like you're enjoying yourself," she added.

 

[MoreThanSane]

Aelianus smiled at the excited young Jedi as she released him, a look of shy guilt clearly visible on her face. He still didn't know why she made him feel so strange, but at that moment the intricacies of his feelings ceased to matter. "Unacceptable," he said, pulling her in for another hug and shutting out the pain as he crushed her against his wounds.

He flashed back to the Lorta mission. The smoke, the scream of blaster fire and artillery shells, the smell of burnt and burning flesh, carrying the broken Juno's limp form for kilometers despite excessive blood loss and pain of his own. He'd very nearly died, but now, standing here, holding Juno in his arms, he knew it'd been completely worth it.

He held her for several heartbeats before releasing her and taking a step back, keeping his hands on her exquisite shoulders until he noticed their drawing attention. While he couldn't care less, he wasn't so sure about Juno. Hands dropped to his sides, and he smiled as he met the woman's gentle blue eyes.

"I'm well," he said. He'd been in a medcenter from his arrival on Coruscant until the day before, but she didn't need to know that. She, on the other hand, had been doing quite well, he knew; keeping tabs on her had been one of the few activities he enjoyed while cooped up in his bed at the center. It seemed, however, the polite thing to do would be to return the question.

"And you?" he asked. He reached down to lift her left arm and hold it in his hands. "You've obviously been doing quite well. I was... well, anxious," he cocked a half smile, unused to admissions such as these.

 

[Cassanova]

Juno flushed when Aelianus drew her in for the second hug. She knew he wasn't particularly the most normal of guys, but she had gotten the distinct feeling that he wasn't the most emotionally broadcasting type. She savoured the hug, despite the looks that she was gathering from all around her. In fact, she was disappointed when he lowered his hands from her shoulders.

Only half jokingly she confessed, "Well... I was better while you were hugging me."
A gentle chuckle brought her blue eyes back to Lee's. "I was really worried that you'd still be in hospital," Juno paused as she shuffled closer to him, allowing him to inspect her entire arm that only two weeks ago was a mangled mess of blood and bone -- even the scars from the surgery and where the bone actually pierced the skin had faded.

Normally Juno when Juno was nervous she'd tuck her hair behind her ear, or fiddle with the wraps that covered her hands. Unfortunately for her, her hair was nicely done up in such a manner that none would fall out, and her skin was bare from her finger tips all the way up to her neck. The strapless top was a beautiful number that she had been saving for a rainy day. She may have been a Jedi, but she was also a woman who occasionally needed to know that life was not all work.

As Aelianus inspected her hand, Juno found herself unconsciously shuffling towards him, almost nestling into the nook of his arm. She looked from her hand, up to Aelianus, and stared into his green eyes. She moved in closely, and sweetly whispered into his ear, "I've missed you, Lee."

 

[Garuga]

Contemplating the drink before bringing it up to his mouth, as always, Quay found his genes to be fortunate and unfortunate in equal measure. Fortunate by that he could more than handle his drink, dispelling most chances of unruly or planned behaviour. Unfortunate by that on the odd occasion he did look towards alcohol as a source of relief, he needed so damn much for it be worth anything. Oh well, at least he never went red. Quay had only managed to take one sip of the intense liquid quickly before his attention was turned towards the nudge on his arm.

A woman. Smiling. Good news? Surprisingly Quay managed to laugh inside, dismissing the seemingly hard-wired reaction from men when in a social situation. He wasn’t here to hit on anyone who didn’t want that kind of attention, and with only one drink inside him he hardly had an excuse to make a fool out of himself either. Quay was thankful for the company, and responded with a genuine grin.

“Yes, I agree. Perhaps a lack of calculation on my side.” He said while simultaneously nodding his head pointfully towards a female Lethan Twi’Lek standing a short distance behind Teynara. The Twi’Lek’s bright red skin clashed brilliantly with the magenta dress she adorned.

“On the other hand if I had to, say, make a swift exit in a more humorous fashion.” Quay joked in a hushed voice. “All I think I would have to do is stand up and make a show of toasting her with what I’m holding.”

Glancing purposefully towards Teynara’s decidedly equally red drink, he continued. “I think it would work rather well if you joined me in that endeavour too.”

Quay shook his head, letting Teynara know that he had no intentions of following through with the racial joke.

“I’m sorry, my name is Quay Wei.” He said with his voice returning to normal volume. Quay placed his drink down and offered his hand. “Member of the Order.”

 

[MoreThanSane]

Remarkable, Aelianus thought, running his hands over Juno's smooth, completely intact arm. At the very least there should have been scars, or some kind of damage. Technology was advanced, yes, but the majority of his own scars would never heal, and according to the doctors it took a fortune to have the more violent variations removed. He was sure the Jedi Order didn't pay for that kind of thing.

He was about to comment on it when he noticed Juno closing the gap between them yet again. A moment later she was in his arms. He smiled as she whispered in his ear. "And I, you." They stood there for a moment before he finally pulled back.

"As much as I enjoy this, my dear," he said, running his hands from her shoulders downward until he had her hands grasped firmly in his, "I believe it would be rude of someone so stunning not to make herself available to the entire floor. I've already spotted several of your more persistent admirers, though perhaps it would serve prudence best to avoid them."

He didn't relish the prospect of "mingling", as did the more socially inclined, yet that was the purpose of the event. And there was no sense in attending an event only to ignore its purpose. "Come," he said, pulling Juno further up the bar and looking for anyone who looked available for conversation. And perhaps mildly interesting, he added to himself.

 

[Le Seigneur d'Avocats]

Chervil had been surprised when he received an invitation to the Alliance Gala on Coruscant, as he knew hardly anything about the war. It appeared that this almost had nothing to with the war anyway, though he still did not understand as to why he, out of all those in order had been given an invitation. His wonderment of his attendance despite being one of his order's lowlier member's was dispelled upon entering the venue. Obviously, the majority of his more solemn and serious superiors did not really wish to be a such a scene or lavishness, excess and frivolity. Chervil himself, however, was right at home; this was only a classier version of the club at the luxury resort where he had worked on Manaan. His loose fitting emerald dress robes with a slightly iridescent bronze trim flowed behind him as he made his way briskly about the function.

Making his way over towards the bar, he stopped to discretely study a rather stunning-looking Corellian in an exotic purple and gold outfit before a man came up her and they shared an embrace. Taken... He frowned slightly, walking away and snagging a piece of skewered and grilled exosquidra marinated in roonan lemon from a scantily-clad cocktail waitress before popping it in his mouth and proceeded to beckon the bartender over.

"A Miralukan Rainbow, please." The bartender looked at him uneasily. Chervil heightened one of his eyebrows as he accosted the bartender incredulously, "Oh don't tell me you don't how to make one. If I'd heard of it in the backwater place where I come from, you'd think that it was at least something I could find somewhere so cosmopolitan as Coruscant... The bartender pulled out a datapad and frantically looked for a recipe. Chervil stared at the man dubiously as he tinkered with various bottles behind the counter. Nevertheless, when the pitch-black drink was placed in front of him, he found it at least passable and certainly not lacking in the quality of the liquor used. "Thanks," he nodded at the bartender after a long sip, savouring the sensation of the liquid that was so fiery, it felt cold, sliding down his throat. The drink was strong, and in few minutes he already felt that strange sort of lightness in his bones that could only be achieved by alcohol.

Chervil turned to look at some of the other guests. To his side was a dreary looking man speaking to a young blonde woman who looked strangely familiar, although Chervil couldn't quite place where he'd seen her before. The Corellian from before was still with that other man, pity- but wait! They appeared to be coming towards him, or if not, at least the bar in general. He smiled easily as he nodded in their direction as they approached.

 

[Sirocco]

Roy had heard of the Gala event in Coruscant and he could admit he was nervous to go but it was sometimes highly dull in the temple with all the seriousness and restraint. The gala was a perfect time to cut loose and actually have fun while conversing and meeting the Jedi and galactic republic solders without being judged or questioned about his attitude. Roy was a Jedi, all who actually took the time to get to know him would not question this fact, but the problem was that the order was very alienating at least.

Getting to the gala was a bit of an embarrassment and shame for Roy, never having money to waist on fancy clothes; he looked like a beggar compered to others as he decided to come in traditional Jedi robes. Normally dressed in battle armor that was best fit for combat he first used as a bounty hunter, Roy’s best attempt to “look presentable” was to come in with borrowed Jedi robes he thought where too dangerous to use in combat. Walking by the ticket man, Roy presented him with his unconventionally bulky light saber which was quite the rushed proses as seen by the lack of smooth texture the other light sabers normally had. Walking in to be greeted by the jedi and alliance solders there, Roy hoped he would not get into a fight as he always accepted a good brawl if someone was too smug to keep their mouth shut. But this was not the cantinas he was used too, being a champion of hand to hand combat if the cantinas ever held something like that, this was proper and red carpet event.

The unfamiliar environment making him uneasy, Roy guessed he just needed something to drink to calm the nerves and help him “fit in”. Walking over to the bar keep, he smiled towards them with his handsome smile nodded, betting Uobi could beat all of them combined in the art of the bar “can I have something nice and smooth, tasty and fruity?” (Example: something like smirnov) Roy asked while his mile turned into a grin when he figure out it was free and with food. The idea that even the lowliest alliance solder was better dressed than him was soon fading from his mind.

 

[Cassanova]

Juno politely pulled Aelianus by his wrist in the direction of a man who had smiled in their direction politely. The first of the evening to not hit on Juno as a first priority. She eyed the man up as she returned the smile, and spoke sweetly. "Hi there. Juno Armstrong, Jedi Order"

She flicked Lee in the chest with one hand, extending her other to Chervil in a greeting, "This is Sergeant Aelianus Atratinus, 5th Regiment Special Forces."

After taking a sip of her fruity and sweet drink, Juno continued on the polite conversation. "So what brought you here tonight?"

 

[Le Seigneur d'Avocats]

"It's a pleasure. My name is Chervil Lyelle. I'm from the Order as well," he replied to the couple before softly meeting Juno's hand and then similarly offering the Sergeant a much firmer one.

"I came around tonight just trying to have a bit of fun, I guess. Though it looks like some of those here need that a lot more than I do. Such a shame that war can make some people's lives so full of discomfort and all," he said, staring mournfully into Juno's cocktail, though he soon perked up and smirked at her. "But enough about war, I'm sure that's what everyone came here to leave behind tonight."

He eyed the Sergeant before taking a sip of the blackness that filled his glass and motioned towards Juno with his drink, ice cubes clinking, "You know, I wouldn't have pegged you for a Jedi with such an outfit... Then again, I suppose it isn't your typical Jedi that comes to events like these."

 

[MoreThanSane]

Aelianus smiled politely to the man. "A pleasure indeed," he said, shaking Chervil's hand. He looked at the bar where he'd left his drink earlier and realized it was gone. Sighing, he brushed gently past Juno and signaled one of the barkeeps. "Another vattle juice, if you don't mind."

"You got it, sir," said the barkeep, a male Twi'lek. It was a few moments before the alien returned with the juice, and Aelianus spent them trying to analyze Chervil. Instead, however, he found his eyes consistently drawn to Juno--a rather frustrating, if pleasurable, preoccupation.

"Thank you," Aelianus said, taking the beverage from the barkeep's hand. He walked back over to where Juno was still speaking with Chervil and stopped next to her.

"--dn't have pegged you for a Jedi with such an outfit... Then again, I suppose it isn't your typical Jedi that comes to events like these."

Aelianus cocked his head to the side, as had recently become his habit upon hearing interesting comments or ideas out of those from which he hadn't expected. He looked Juno up and down, and conceded that her garb was rather unorthodox. "Certainly preferable to the robes, though. However functional, there is little artistry in the standard Jedi garments."

 

[Le Seigneur d'Avocats]

Chervil turned back to Aelianus, who had returned with some vattle juice. Strange that the military man was the one keeping sober while the Jedi were the ones drinking it up. He nodded at the Seargeants comment. It was quite likely that they had similar tastes, but perhaps not in choice of beverage.

"Indeed, I can't say I'm rather fond of them myself. They're meant to reflect modesty and all. Holdovers from the Old Jedi Order, as I see it. Such muted browns and beiges can be nice to see every once and a while, but it becomes drab when everyone is wearing the same thing." Chervil gestured towards the Sergeant, "Even military uniforms can be more exciting, but I suppose someone of your status doesn't wear the standard uniform either..."

 

[TweedPawn]

((Written in unison with Stormwolf:))


There had been much to plan for. Della wasn't entirely sure if she would be able to get ready in time. But, that wasn't what made her nervous tonight. It was the first time she would be with Rhonun in front of everyone. Not just as a friend, but in a duality. Della had spent so much time hiding the truth of the relationship between her and the Cathar, mostly out of her own insecurity of her feelings.

Now, her feelings were steady. There was little doubt about how she cared for the Cathar. As she prepared the final touches on her brand new outfit. She wasn't too far from the security checkpoint. She stepped into the hotel and began her process of being searched. She rarely carried a saber, so the check in process was quick for her, even though she felt herself become quite shy at the questions.

She knew to wait for Rhonun just past the checkpoint. She found a quiet chair the graciously sit in. She meekly looked away when she was complimented on her outfit. Della felt out of place, she never been to such a formal gathering before. Everyone was still very nice to her and Della felt as if she could meet new friends here and be welcomed.

Finally, she felt Rhonun nearby. He stood before her and gently smiled. His eyes were full of warmth and affection. He looked quite handsome, even proud. He held out a hand to her. Della felt warmth rush to her cheeks as she humbly accepted his hand.

"You look very nice." she said. She felt nervous still about being seen, even though there was nothing to hide.

" And you are the shining star of the evening," he smiled, holding out his arm for her to take for the evening."

Her cheeks grew even hotter and she looked at her feet. She gently accepted his arm. She could feel the muscle under the fabric. Rhonun chuckled in response and lifted her chin with one finger. His golden eyes sparkled with contentment.

"There is no need to be so modest. I only speak the truth. Come, Let's enjoy our first night together." he said. Della nodded in response.

The room was quite grand. There were all types already there and several sentients were engaged in conversation. No one seemed to take too much notice, and Della felt a little more at ease with Rhonun. Her memories fluttered back to the uncomfortable encounter with Geist Weiss. He had been a very wealthy man as well. Della prayed he wasn't here. He had disguised himself as an Alliance senator to lure Della into trap. She suddered at the close call. It could have killed her.

"Something the matter?" Rhonun asked.

"Just thinking back when I was away from the temple, that's all." Della replied. Rhonun nodded. He knew that Della had encountered many terrible things while she left to explore the galaxy on her own.

"I am here. Just enjoy yourself. That terrible part of your life is in the past now." Rhonun placed a hand over Della's. His voice had a deep rumble as he started purring. He was so happy in this moment, and with the beautiful Della Frey, the sole recipient of his affections holding his arm with those dainty fingers of hers, Rhonun doubted he could think of another place or time he would rather be. Walking at a confident and oddly graceful strut for a creature of his size, Rhonun escorted Della in to the finer parts of the hotel. The courtyard, especially, was beautiful, and surprisingly serene even with Coruscant's never-ending traffic zipping by at all hours of the day and night. This night, Rhonun wore a traditional Catharese formal attire; a light gray coat with sleeves to his wrist and a high collar. The coat was double breasted, buttoned with polished brass and the fabric itself was hand-wolven kiltik silk. It fit his broad torso in a very accommodating fashion, fitting snugly at the biceps, shoulders, and chest, complimenting the definition of his form. With slacks to match, stuffed in to polished black knee-high boots, and topping it all off with a deep burgundy sash, tied around his waist and over his left shoulder, held in place by a golden brooch.

Even with how finely he was dressed, Rhonun's formal wear was modest and pracitcal, and it paled to compare to Della's dress, a beautiful piece of art, made of varying shades of blue flower-like designs over a stunning, virginal white dress. A shawl of shimmering blue hung over her arms and draped around the small of her back. The love-struck couple looked each other in the eyes, a beauty and a gentle beast walking together in the night towards the gala, Rhonun's gloved right hand golding Della's as if it was made of the finest glass.

 

[Cassanova]

Juno chuckled, "Holdovers is correct. Absolutely correct."

She smiled as she looked to the bar tender, and tapped her wrist politely. He had a quick look on his wrist, and then spoke back to her, "7:15pm, ma'am."
Damned time for Juno to do her duty. She wasn't here at this party just to look good and make pretty conversations and the like. Juno Armstrong was actually going to be speaking at the event. Grudgingly she looked to Lee and Chervil, "Sorry boys. You'll have to excuse me -- Time for the official stuff to start."

Politely excusing herself, she moved down the room and up onto a small stage fitted out with a microphone, speakers, and a podium of sorts. A few technicians buzzed about, clipping a small microphone to the piece of material on her chest. A scandalous area to be fidgeting if she had ever seen it...

She quietly moved up behind the podium, and waited. One of the techs moved behind the scenes, and picked up a small public announcement microphone and he spoke softly, in a very attendant manner.

"Attention all guests. The Helios Hotel would like to
invite you to the auditorium area we have set up at the end of
the function room for the official proceedings to begin.

Thankyou."​

​

 

[MoreThanSane]

Aelianus inclined his head to Chervil before making his way to one of the tables closest the podium. The majority of the hotel floor's occupants did likewise, chatter slowly dying down, replaced with the clacking of chairs against floor and rustling of fabrics as people took their seats.

The Sergeant set his glass down on the table, then sat himself down. He turned in his chair, looking head swiveling to take in the entirety of the scene and--noticing no dangers or alarming oddities--straightened his suit jacket and tie before looking back to the podium.

While he had known there would be a speech--that much had been made very obvious by the tables and podium--he hadn't expected it to be Juno. The Jedi Council must have had a higher opinion of her than he'd realized. As well they should; she was a remarkable soldier and woman.

He sipped his juice and waited for Juno to begin her speech.

 

[Teynara]

A quick exit, huh? Teynara found that more than a little amusing, and smiled to show that she thought so. He clearly doesn't think this party's going to go well if he's anticipating needing an escape route. He was probably just joking, but there was a little something in the way he said it that made her think twice on that one. It was an imaginative move, which suggested it was something he might have had to do before. Field Jedi, then, she mused. Explained why she'd never seen him before.

The handshake was an interesting choice, too, and it said a lot more about this one than he probably imagined. Most Jedi wouldn't consider clasping hands as a gesture of greeting or respect, mostly because they saw both potential risk in the action and because many species did not like to be touched in such a way by a stranger. Diplomacy 101 - bowing is considered an apt show of respect because it can be used by both equals and subordinates, but a handshake has a more complicated social dynamic. She took it anyway, noting the firm grip and replying with one of her own. But not too firm, she noted. Don't want to seem aggressive or overly competitive.

"Teynara Jeralyr, same Order," she said with a smile, matching his voice in volume, just loud enough that he'd be able to hear her over the din. "Though you're clearly a little more adventurous than me," Teynara added, giving a small nod towards the other Jedi's drink. "I don't even begin to want to know how you learned about that drink. Doesn't the name make you worry about what it's going to do to your liver?," she asked, her smile expanding a little into a grin.

Hmm...wait, isn't this 'small talk'?, she wondered inwardly. She'd never been fond of it - for all intents and purposes, most of the time she was a functional mute except in classes or when her Master decided to have a discussion. Talk too much and you listen not at all, or so she'd always thought, but it wasn't as if you could just go to a party and sit at the bar nursing a drink the whole time without talking to anyone. Not very Jedi-like to do so anyway, she mused. Goes from contemplative to plain sullen and anti-social, and she wasn't about to let anyone accuse her of that. Not twice anyway.

The blonde recognised Guhoo's sister as she called for everyone's attention and announced that they ought to make their way to the auditorium. Teynara rolled her pale blue eyes ever so slightly at the thought of 'official proceedings', having about much use for those as she did a sanisteam that sprayed acid. And I imagine this is going to be just as pleasant, she thought, grimacing slightly. She restrained a sigh, turning her gaze back to her Jedi companion.

"Care to join me? If this gets too dull, we can put your escape plan into action and get something to eat," she said, hefting her glass of fruit juice as if it were a weapon, her carefully-crafted smile returning to her face. "Should have known we couldn't have an innocent social gathering without someone making a speech...", she added, shaking her head.

 

[TweedPawn]

Della heard the annoucement and began to walk with Rhonun silently through the crowd to listen to the proceedings. She heard many voices, but one stood out.

Della's ears perked at the sound of a familiar name.

"Teynara? It's me, Della Frey. Oh, do you remember me? We had class together. I remember you being very good in it." She turned to the lovely blonde, happy to see someone familiar. She remembered her manners

"This is Rhonun Tor. We're fr-...um..." Della felt her cheeks become red-hot again. It felt strange to confess him to be so close to her. She looked up at Rho to help her out. He always looked more comfortable than she did.