Alliance Gala

[TweedPawn]

Della was too busy enjoying herself to really pay attention now. She could only seem to notice that everyone around her weren't as happy as she way. She could feel it in the little fibers that connected them to the Force. Why weren't they happy?

They needed to be happy. All of them

Della grabbed her third glass, ignoring something about pacing and timing. She felt a certain type of giddiness swell inside of her as the Force started to bubble up like a can of fizzy drink being shaken. She quickly finished her third glass and an idiotic grin grew across her face. She remembered the way the Rhonun always seemed to smile when she did this trick. Della grabbed Rhonun's arm and began to try to channel her over-excitement into him.

He would be very happy soon.

She felt like a supernova. She could do positively anything, or so she felt. Why was this place so serious? They all needed to lighten up...

 

[StormWolf]

Rhonun had finished his drink. Then another... and another. The enzymes in the drink quickly attacking his naturally powerful resistances to poisons and toxins. Normally, Rhonun would be able to have an entire bottle, and then some, to himself. Why did they have this drink here? Anyone without some form of inhuman constitution would likely be turned sick after a single glass. No matter. He was feeling great. The most relaxed he had felt in a long, long time. The first time since he sat atop a roof with Della, drinking a drink of a similar color.

((For some extra feeling))

Looking down, Rhonun saw Della grab his thick, sinuous arm, and channel her effervescent joy in to him, making his heart blossom as he looked in her beautiful eyes of amber-brown. Placing a hand over hers, Rhonun pressed his brow to Della's brushing her nose with his. He truly was happy with her, even without her flooding him with her emotions, he felt at peace with Della by his side. It was a way he wanted to feel for as long as he lived. He wanted to be with her... well... forever. It was a thought, a dream that had danced across his mind several times, but he had never given such thoughts the time of day... until now. Was it so crazy for a Jedi to love? To feel compassion? Such emotions were nothing, if not light. Without his affections for Della, where would Rhonun be? She brought out the best in him... his very own guardian angel.

"Della..." Rhonun whispered, tightening his hand over hers, his heart weighing heavily on every word, "I do not want to know a life without you in it... In every thought, every moment, and every beat of my heart. Della Frey... light of my life... will you marry me?" He finally said the words, feeling the weight of the world roll off of his shoulders, liberating him for self-conscious and fear. He had refrained from asking before because he was afraid it would scare her away, but she had told him she loved him, and he loved her back the way Cathar did... with all he had.

 

[TweedPawn]

Maybe it was the noise. It could have been the booze as well. But, Della wasn't sure she heard Rhonun clearly.

"WHAT?" she asked, leaning her ear towards him to hear him better, her fourth glass of wines swishing awkwardly in its glass.

"I couldn't quite hear you!"

 

[StormWolf]

Sighing and chuckling, Rhonun softly bonked his head against hers and pressed his lips to her ear, letting his hot breath waft over the side of her head and down her neck. He spoke again, a low and non-threatening growl accenting his tone. Della knew exactly what kind of growl this was,

"I said... I want to marry you." He gave her hand another squeeze, pulling her against him. "I want you to be my wife, Della." He proceeded to tell her he wanted to marry her in Snamreg and Catharese, the only other languages he knew. "How can I make it more clear?"

 

[TweedPawn]

Della squealed in a high pitch.

"YOU WANT TO MARRY ME? WOW! OH DIVINES! AHHHHHH!" She tackled Rhonun drunkenly like a child and squeezed him tightly.

"HE JUST ASKED ME TO MARRY HIM!" She screamed at the Gala.

 

[Will]

Kristoff pursed his lips, finishing his drink. He placed it on the table, his face etched with irritation. It seems he had stayed too long. The opportunities for meaningful interaction were gone.

''Well, I suppose that's me then.'' He pulled on his cap, and slid his way past the shrieking Jedi and her gaggle of peers.

To think, they are meant to be fighting the Sith Empire alongside us.

Valtiere reached the steps, shaking his head as he strode down two at a time. His car pulled around, and he relaxed greatfully into the fine leather seats as his driver bore him swiftly to his estate.

''Remind me to never do that again, Ribbles.'' He told his manservant, sighing.

The elderly Sephi nodded, voice creaking as he replied.

''The same as last time, sir.''