Ask Serenno Facing the Truth

[Heather D'Avignon]

Heather took a deep breath before she entered the grand ball room of the Serennian Masquerade Ball. She had picked just the right occasion to mingle with the influential politicians she intended to speak with on behalf of her course. Serenno had left the Empire after the split, there had been many struggles thereafter and the diplomatic advances that had been formerly made years ago hadn't been very fertile. She wasn't fully convinced, but still somewhat optimistic to weight in words of an actual diplomat, hoping she'd manage to sway the politicians.

The dress code was relatively extra this night, the color scheme dark colors only. There were dark drapes and the light was relatively dim with most attendants clad in dark suits and gowns. Heather was clad in a sparkling, rather pompous yet elegant gown with a black, classic mask completing her look.

Hadn't balls always been lighthearted events with great moods and yet a mysterious touch given by the costumes? At least in her memory they were. Somehow she was very nervous tonight though. She hadn't been sleeping well for months as too much trauma still tormented her mind and the chances of actually processing the events seemed to dwindle.

She was a different woman than she had been when she had last intended such events and even if a constant sense of fear and dread often permeated her mind, she knew she had to keep it together tonight. She had her eyes open for various members of the noble houses and members of the governmental body, all of whom she was sure they'd attend the ball, but her first destination was still the bar.

She needed something to ease her nerves before she'd start exchanging some meaningless pleasantries before starting to play the well known games of diplomacy. Apart from this inner restlessness, she was also tired, but it still didn't keep her from ordering a Serennian wine and downing in relatively quickly. Her thoughts were still racing, but she forced the tension out of her muscles before she continued observing for another moment.

@Sreeya

 

[Darth Raze]

Humans and their endless debauchery never ceased to entertain him. At every turn was a new descent into vulgarity in its most perverted form. Human nature was so egotistically centered to a particular race, but yet manifested in so many aliens and beings alike. At the core, all beings were capable of the most heinous things. It only just took the lightest, subtlest push. Just a light wave of the baton and the orchestra would sing in perfect harmony.

He had been conducting that orchestra for a while now, even since he had been Emryc Thorne. He had the galaxy at his feet, rising to new heights entirely of his own making. He knew the game and he knew how to pull the strings to make lesser beings like humans tick. His perception of them was purely academic, but he loved to experiment, to trigger, to tweak, to tinker and prod to see what made them tick.

The wraith had been busy working on finding ways to mass produce his children. He was facing a galaxy that began to see him as the enemy at long last. However, Serenno was still under his influence. He had worked to sway the minds of the Greater Houses. Demici had been the last thorn in his side, and it was firmly removed now thanks to Tiamat.

His arrival always made a statement in these circles, less so because of the name Winchester, but more because of the weight of his presence. It was accompanied with an icy chill, but also an air of mystery that had nothing to do with a mask. Even the lesser humans could sense that he was something else entirely. Beyond just an alien. It was an unsettling feeling. Some were drawn to it like a moth to a flame, others felt compelled to run in the opposite direction.

The wraith was adorned in formal attire that was more traditional and a mask to cover the upper hemisphere of his face. His pale, gaunt cheeks and cut jawline were visible. He was handed a glass of champagne and he sipped from it, inhaling the almost tangible scent of anxiety and trepidation that he sensed all around.

@LadyRen

 

[Heather D'Avignon]

The senator of Liana's face wasn't a face well-known. Despite having served as a political diplomat for years and Liana's representatives for a year by now, she was fairly certain that behind her mask, no one would recognize the red-head. She thus felt a little safer, however the troubles of the past had left the woman so scarred that anxiety was her constant companion.

Such events had gone wrong before, and they could again. Despite no one particularly expecting her here, she still felt watched somehow. It was a constant sense of dread she couldn't shake, but a part of her had gotten used to it somehow. Still, after she had downed her first drink, she sighed quietly, simply feeling tired and exhausted and yet carrying one.

The determined spark that had once glowed inside her was almost suffocated, yet she had decided to give this another shot. She wanted to be useful, to strong, to fight back somehow...and even if the drink helped with her courage, she didn't fully feel prepared. Her blue eyes scanned through the crowd, trying to make out the familiar faces of those she had done her research on - key figures in the Serennian nobility, and yet every single face was concealed that night, leaving it a riddle to her, rather than an upfront approach.

Her gaze grazed a particular gentleman whose sheer image alone laced her skin with an icy shiver that soon permeated towards her bones. Her thoughts were puzzled, too many issues and scenarios running through her head that she didn't even realize she was moving towards him - a mysterious pull attracting her.

There was something about his presence she found so deeply deterring that it immediately stirred up all that superficially buried dread inside her, slowly making her spiral once again. And yet a name was suddenly imprinted in her head. Winchester. Unmistakable. Her throat went dry and her eyes widened, her breaths only came shallow and slowly. She couldn't explain what it was, but somewhat it felt as though he was someone who could offer clarity where she had none...

"My Lord, would you do me the honor of a dance?". What the hell is wrong with you. It was this toxic pattern she had have before. She had to find out what it was, had to be even closer to this terrible presence that almost suffocated her while just being close to him while she felt so terribly cold.

@Sreeya

 

[Darth Raze]

She smelled exquisite. Not because of perfume, oils, or scents. But because of the severe levels of trauma and anxiety that wafted from her. It was decadent, and it fueled him. She was a broken creature, so he doubted she would make for a satisfying meal. He knew who she was - despite being detached from politics, it was difficult to completely disengage.

“Certainly,” He said smoothly, offering her a hand to take her out to the dance floor. His hand would be cool to touch. When he moved, it was with inhuman grace, and he tugged her along as if she were a puppy on a leash. The wraith moved her into a dance hold, one of his hands over the back of her shoulder, the other gripping her hand. He began with a waltz, guiding her around the others that stared in wonder.

“You are a wolf among sheep here, Ms. D’avignon,” He said quietly, amusement betrayed in his tone. He could understand who she was. Ironically, he was the wolf among the sheep, but an Imperial in a Sith leaning world was delicious, “Have you come to tell the Great Houses the folly of their ways?” He asked as he twirled her under his arm, a regal and refined method to his dance. There was no frivolity with him, and she would have to choose her answers carefully. Raze was no being with normal emotions and humor, he was an entity.

@LadyRen

 

[Heather D'Avignon]

The woman her soft, delicate hands touches his cold grasp, she felt an icy shiver lacing her entire body. It had something inhumane and powerful, dangerously intoxicating and the feeling just intensified as he led her onwards. While she was half glad she agreed, a sudden fear grasped her, trauma of the past months surfacing while for a moment, she forgot why she was even here.

She tired her best to keep a straight face and gracefully followed his steps. Having grown up in high society, Heather knew all about dances and manners, but she wasn't even in a mood to comply with that all night. The red haired woman had come for business, yet she struggled to follow her intricate plan as she was still lacking direction.

He knew her name and the way he's smooth, deep voice enunciated it was mystical. He had a presence that was impossible to grasp, yet she was inclined to stay a little longer and find out. "Am I?", she curiously asked, not entirely sure about what he was referring to, but she had heard a lot about him so far.

She tried her best to keep a straight face, but it was almost impossible to suppress the nervousity. "It is surely unusual terrain, but no, I was actually looking to gain some first hand experience and insights. Networking is never a bad idea" and yet she knew coming here was.

Or at least an unrealistic idea. What was she hoping for? She once again felt so powerless...why would her word sway anyone? She hated that she was constantly feeling as though her past weighted her down while she was also lacking direction, but she tried her best to keep her mind focused on the Count.

"It's impressive how quickly you've gained an actual footing here". This almost escaped her. She admired him for it, for the power and respect he simply commanded and regardless of how hard she usually tried, for her it didn't work like that. The past had shown that she held no power over anyone.

@Sreeya