- Joined
- Jan 31, 2019
- Messages
- 5
- Reaction score
- 1
Bona Fortuna was one of the most well respected opera houses on Nar Shaddaa, its glistening spire serving as a beacon of high society across the sector. For the past three centuries, it had performed every single night, uninterrupted by the ever turbulent political-criminal (for all to often did they blend) scene that dominated the region it, in turn, sat resplendent in. Tonight was to be no different, for the long awaited season of The Triumph of Hutteripedies was to serve its opening night.
From across the sector, people had paid a small fortune to bank their own seats in the hall. Such was the fame of the performance, that its audience transcended political lines, enemies in the debating halls of far off worlds, shuffling in together to embrace the musical extravaganza to which they were about to be exposed. Early reviews had suggested that the noted impresario Boontana Vesilijic (at whose pen tonight's performance had been inked) had created, ’The musical equivalent of the big-bang.’ - it was being lauded by one critic as ’The greatest seventeen sense enabling, octave shattering, monotonal performance of historic memory.’
Nobody even knew what that meant - but all assumed it to be high praise indeed.
And so it was to come as little surprise when, as one of countless such vehicles, a sleek black hover car pulled up by the lobby. It’s driver, an austere looking droid, its chromium finish polished to a reflective sheen, stepping out of the vehicle and raising a chem-proof umbrella (even today, Nar Shaddaa rain was acidic) and opening the door for its master. Extending a delicate and thin hand, which was followed by an equally as slim arm, chased hastily by a large, domed forehead, Maximilian, robotics master, and self-professed smartest man in the Galaxy, stepped out under the shelter proffered by his Droid.
”Isn’t it marvellous?”
The droid did not reply, its vocal curcuity having long since been removed for reasons known only to its master. Fortunate to, for it was not to the droid that Max now spoke, but instead to Loth-Cat he scooped up in his spindly arms.
”How refreshing it is to be surrounded by the good folk.”
Max continued, as if replying to his Loth-Cat - who simply sat in his arms, desperately trying to go back to sleep. Sweeping up the stairs, he customarily ignored the security guards pleas for him to remove his weaponry, and - as his droid adjusted his unreasonably high collar - he entered the theater.
OOC - This is a PvP thread, and is death disabled. Japes, witty comebacks, etc - are expected and welcomed.