Open Social First Of His Name

[Imani Din]

Imani wandered into the room with Ma, Pa, Laila, and some of the other Dins. Like everyone else, she was wearing formal attire. Also like everyone else, she was surprised when Altair declared each and every one of her siblings to be either a prince or a princess.

Amusement set in when she caught her brothers immediately being accosted by various women, to which her Ma responded with an expression that was an even mix of fretful and delighted. "Grandbabies!" She almost hear the thought in her mind. Not wanting to end up the victim of yet another "when will you settle down and have kids?" lecture, Imani quickly dipped and headed toward the new king of Eiatu.

"I bring a gift for the king," Imani declared, a twinge of amusement in the back of her voice as she presented an envelope to Altair, wrapped in a thick brown paper and tied with a tweed ribbon.

If he unwrapped the thick brown paper right then, he would find nothing of monetary value. Instead, he would lay his eyes upon something maybe a bit unexpected: a photograph.

In the center of the photo was a stack of haybales - a familiar sight to the both of them - stacked much higher than they would usually go, with bales piled haphazardly on top. Khalid, Jabari, Altair, and Kasim were all present in the photo, with all but Altair trying their best to scramble their way atop the haybale mountain. A young Altair stood atop the pile, teetering on the edge of an unstable bale, with his hands thrown up in the air and his mouth wide as if he were in the middle of a triumph shout. Kasim was still struggling up the first few bales while Jabari and Khalid fought each other for second place. Imani had taken the photo years and years ago, but only recently uncovered it collecting dust in one of Ma's various photo albums. It was a happy memory.

"You four were playin' king of the haybale," Imani noted with a smile, extending her finger to point to where Kasim was struggling to wiggle his way up onto even the first bale. "You were only a few years older than Kasim here, but you still beat both Bari n' Kahlid up, 'member? You were so stoked!"

King of the Haybale, her baby brother had once shouted with glee. Now he was sitting on a real throne. He'd come so far from little Tai, or from the teenage boy with the messy dorm room and falling grades.

"I know it's not much," she admitted after a moment. Altair was likely to receive many priceless and expensive gifts from his friends and the various noble families here tonight. "But I found this a few weeks ago, and when I heard you were going to be crowned king... it just seemed right."

"I'm proud of you, Tai. King Tai," she smile, then added with a chuckle. "An' just in case they forget to tell you with all this excitement, Ma n' Pa are real proud of you too. I don't think I've ever seen em prouder."

With that, Imani would give her brother a proud smile, then make her way back down to the festivities before he was inevitably accosted by noble women left and right like his brothers.

tag: @Sreeya

 

[Caelian]

Caelian let out a silent cheer as the sovereign was proclaimed, and his announcement in tow regarding his family. How very proud they all looked of their brother and son. His glance peered across the room to take in the many faces, some familiar and others he had yet the pleasure to meet. No doubt by the end of the night he would mingle with a fair few of them.

A quiet voice appeared by his side as John Q surfaced from wherever he had been hiding, posing a deep question. The Echani looked across at the enigmatic man and shrugged. Minus a tongue to speak, he'd telepathically respond with a little effort on his part.

"A king rules, not serves, John. They do not have to be held in contrast, both can lead along the same path." He paused for a second. "Why do you question Altair, you should be proud of his achievements."

@Taygood

 

[Varyn Atrix]

Varyn snickered and made a face that said "I'm not so sure about that" as she mentioned the noble attire suited him.

Thanks, he said. You look quite nice yourself. I like your hair, he complimented. When she mentioned they'd met before she left the Empire, he nodded and made a quiet "ahh" sound.

Oh, we've known each other for a few years. Fought side by side and he's had my back a lot, he said, smiling slightly as he thought about it. Varyn didn't have a lot of true friends, but Altair was one of those he counted among them.

Before they could continue, the man of the hour started making his speech, calling out his entire family, which caused Varyn to crack into another smile. He could just imagine that they were all shocked at their new titles, but he was happy for them.

@LadyRen

 

[Amira Din]

Heavy is the head that wears the crown. On Altair, it looked as light as a feather. The Tiefling looked like he'd grown up in a palace instead of playing with cow pies out in the fields of Bandomeer. He looked like a King, and it had very little to do with the elegant cape draped over his broad shoulders, the attendants that stood ready to wait on him hand and foot, or the noble women hoping to catch his eye. It was in his violet eyes. In his charcoal face. He wasn't the little boy in tattered overhauls and face smeared with dirt she'd bid goodbye to as a teenager. He was a man. A King.

Now would have been a good time to get sentimental, indulging in childhood memories on the farm, if she had allowed herself, but she did not. Wiping away a single tear, she thrust her glass of champagne toward the ceiling and shouted, "Long may he reign!" in chorus with the rest of the assembly. Then she threw the glass back, draining its contents, before pulling her phone from the dress she wore.
Snapping a picture of herself, and ignoring the exaggerated and disapproving sigh of a nearby noblewoman, she sent a message to Edin. Wherever he might be tonight.

Looks like you're going to have to call me princess from now on ;)

The empty champagne glass she pressed into the noblewoman's empty hands, patting the stranger on the top of the head, ignoring the woman's scarlet face and spluttering lips as she said, "Make yourself useful and dispose of that, will you?" before slipping into the crowd—ready to catch up with her family and dance. @Sreeya

 

[Celeste Stythani]

Varyn obviously didn't seem too convinced about his own attire, but in the end he accepted the compliment and gave another one back. "Thank you...it's been a while since I could dress up a bit" she replied with a slight chukle, the memories of her waiter uniform from Eriadu way too fresh.

However, Eriadu rang another bell, too. She remembered the face of the unconscious Champion on the ground and suddenly realized that the man had been Varyn...How hadn't she noticed that on Ziost? Well, in the end it didn't actually matter, but she felt even more sorry for what had happened back then.

When he mentioned that they had already fought alongside each other her warm smile widened. Altair was indeed a good and close friend (with other benefits) to her, but it was definitely funny how the two of them were obviously close with him, but neither of them had known that before. "That does sound like him" she happily remarked, however Altair's speech was already beginning and so she directed her full attention onto the new king.

His speech was concise an powerful, adressing just the right matters. Celeste was convinced that he'd rule justly, while at the same time bringing prosperity and glory back to the planet. "Long may he reign!" She joined the cheers and clapping of the crowd, her light blue eyes sparkling, but right after his speech she could see how his Tiefling brothers were already getting swallowed by a crowd of noble women which made Celeste amusedly shake her head. "Seems like it's not just Altair's life that will change from now on" she said to Varyn, knowing damn well that he wouldn't be that amused by such a sudden flood of attention.

@Phoenix @Sreeya

 

[Emir Din]

While he watched the coronation of his brother, Emir tried to ignore how that thing around his neck was suffocating him. The young Tiefling felt tempted in removing it, but his Ma had already stared at him with one of her looks that sent chills through his spine when she noticed that he was trying to loosen it. If she saw him trying to pull it off, he would probably have an appointment with the chancla, even if it was in the middle of a party.

Emir only hoped that with him now being a prince, he would not be forced to wear this type of clothes all the time. He was starting to think that these fancy things weren’t for him. Well, maybe the food was. the young TIefling thought, while watching the waiters moving around with trays full of tasty things.

After the ceremony ended, Emir walked away from his parents and tried to get close to Altair. He wanted to congratulate his brother for now being a king. The young Tiefling still couldn’t believe that the guy that used to go camping with him was now a royal and controlling an entire planet. His admiration for him grew even more.

When he was able to reach his brother, Emir would see that Imani was already here with him. “Tai! Congratulations for now bein’ a king!” the young Tiefling wondered if he should call him as Your Majesty. “I have somethin’ for ya!” he said, before giving a piece of paper to Altair.

It was a painting of his brother, sitting in a log near a bonfire. He was playing the guitar while a full moon was up in the sky. “I wanted to give it to ya since that barbecue, but it was only a colorless sketch.” he smiled, feeling proud for having bought that paint kit with the money that he received from fixing droids. Now he could give color to all paintings that he made!

“I know that now ya will have fancy portraits everywhere, but I wanted to give it so ya don’t forget our campin' nights.” Emir wondered if his brother would still want to remember their time camping together and the mess that it sometimes could become. “If ya don’t like it, I can make one of ya as a king.” it was no secret for his siblings that he loved painting, it would be a pleasure for him to make one to celebrate this triumph of his brother.

@Sreeya

 

[Darth Tempest]

Vahliri couldn’t help the way her eyes immediately brightened upon approaching Tiamat. She was a friendly and familiar face in the crowd, and someone else that genuinely cared about Altair. It went without saying that they were both ecstatic for him. “Thank you,” She smiled, leaning over to briefly hug the woman with one arm. “It is,” The half-Annfyn’s gaze flicked over to Altair, watching as the Tiefling ascended the throne.

Whether it was his natural leadership or simply the way he sat above the crowds, it suited him perhaps more than the Tiefling himself realized.

“He’ll make an amazing king,” She said with a confident edge, gaze lingering. Vahliri was silent through the remainder of his speech - grinning a bit as Royal titles were granted to the rest of his family. She knew just how important his siblings and parents were to the Tiefling, and wasn’t the least bit surprised by the move. “Long live the king!” She shouted with the rest.

Even the topic shifted to Varyn, her lips twitched downward ever so slightly - barely noticeable, unless Tiamat was watching. “Nah, just me.” She shook her head a bit - gaze flicking to the man in question for a moment. “I’ll probably go say hello in a bit,”

Shaking it off, she gave Tiamat a smile, “I better go congratulate the new King. Save a dance for me?” The half-Annfyn asked before excusing herself, making her way up the stairs and towards the throne. As she reached the base of the seat, the half-Annfyn dipped her head and curtsied for the court, unable to help the smile she wore whilst doing so. “Your Majesty,” The half-Annfyn said formally, though the look in her eyes was warm and familiar.

With that, she finally extended the wooden box towards him. It was accepted by an attendant who made a point of being the middle man, who then proceeded to open the lid and show it to the King. Laying upon a silk pillow, Altair would find a beaded bracelet resting in place - much in the same style as what the Tiefling traditionally wore. Upon closer inspection, it was clear that each bead was made from Kyber - having been rounded, polished and Alchemically altered to shift the color. The crystals were jet black on the surface, but even the smallest rotation would reveal the play of color underneath - flashes of crimson and maroon dancing across the lattice.

“You once told me you didn’t have any use for these,” She smiled a bit. “But I thought maybe this was something more your style.” It was clear they were the same crystals that Vahliri had nabbed from Asog during their stowaway flight. Whatever their value or functionality, it had taken some time to craft them into something for Altair.

“Congratulations, Altair,” Vahliri said with a warm smile, “You’ve earned this.” With that, the half-Annfyn began to make her way back down from the throne - ignoring any looks she might have received from nobility as she passed.

 

[Khalid Din]

"It's a work in progress, it'll git better!" Khalid responded to her sister's accent comment, a smile on his face as he returned the shove back to her "Hah, good luck with that, I at least still punch while fightin' from time to time and that serves as exercisin', how are ya gonna one up me when ya spend time shootin' from far away more than me?" The cowboy then was pulled into a hug by his big little brother, pouting as a result of his comment "...Still taller than Kasim, Emir and Laila" He said, looking to the ground for a moment before looking back to Altair "Just call 'im King whenever ya mock 'im, sibling assholery 101."

Khalid listened carefully as Altair started to speak, being silent for all of ten seconds before he started to whisper to his brothers "-Since when is this dumbass so articulated? Henceforth? Who the fuck even taught 'im that word? Definitely spendin' too much time wi-" His thoughts and comments were suddenly halted as he started to hear the words "prince" and "princess" thrown around "Prince Khalid Din" His eyes would go wide open after hearing that statement, looking at Altair once more as he realized what had just happen "...I'll be damned."

Suddenly, he had been swarmed by women who wanted to dance with him, a devilish grin forming in his lips as he realized what was happening "Now we are fucking talking" Khalid thought to himself (And almost exclaimed out loud too). Of course, despite what his siblings would say, Khalid was not stupid, he understood all this attention and love was shallow, superficial, no one with social standing would've even looked at him a couple minutes ago...But he had dealt with shallow, superficial hate most of his life, he would take fake love over it.

"Ladies, ladies, the night's young! Enough time for me to see how all of you dance" The Tiefling said, trying to supress his southern accent rather than trying to add the poor attempt at a noble one on top of it "But first I must congratulate the king, if you'll excuse me" Khalid politely parted the sea of women encircling him before making his way to the throne, waving at Imani as she made her way down at the same time.

He would reach the throne just in time to see Emir giving Altair the portrait, feeling warmth inside his heart as he put his hand on Emir's shoulder with a softer smile on his face. "Your majesty" The Tiefling cowboy would greet his brother, going all in with the horrible accent combination for those two words before giving the king a polite, but very exaggerated bow (on purpose) "Congratulations, Ya have really come far, brother" Khalid would then get a bit closer to Altair "I've got a gift too, but it shall be given ta you later, in yer private quarters" The older brother would then lean in to whisper to Altair, making sure Emir didn't hear "I've brought the good shit, Tai, you're gonna enjoy it" With all said and done, Khalid would make his way down, being able to walk two steps before being surrounded by suitors once more.

@Sreeya

 

[Tameon Sylverian]

Spoiler: Music

O dragon, dragon with wings and horns.
With teeth and talons, O how you gore.
You breathe flame, great dragon, fire.
A roar, heart’s quake, burns brighter.

The sigil of House Din. A Sylverian will remember it.
Upon it, gold may be a Tiefling, beneath a red dragon.
His own noble house, no royal sigil; black, a red dragon.
In a galaxy like this are bound to be even more of them.

The Black Knight, some call Tameon Sylverian, or the family rogue as his mother calls him.
The Dragons That Rode, some call their house, but it is the House of Din that all these other houses now surround.

A king is crowned, cheered forth by the floor of nobles and more.
Winged Goddess, Fanged God, God of Tits and Wine, all of them are lost in this throne room.

Deities and destiny are trapped in the sky, but beneath it fly dragons, and the dragons own the skies.
The men, the women and their children who are their descendants, it is their arms that spread across the stars, and they make their own fate.

Whatever the conversations that pave the hour, whether alliances are forged or rivalries are broken, marriages arranged, it is ever a game of thrones, for Altair Din is but one king on one throne in an entire galaxy.

The weight is on his shoulders, then, but this coronation ceremony gives plenty of evidence that the King of Eiattu, Altair Din, First of His Name, has a family of Tieflings and more supporting him, including his very siblings, helping him play the game.

If peace he brings to a world so poisoned by his predecessor, then all the power and more to him, and to all the Dins.
War is ever brewing, a dragon knows, and a man should take what peace is presented to him and when he can get it.

Whether royal throne or noble chair, some claim that Tameon is too wild, too untamed, to take over the house from his father when Lord Koryus passes away. A maverick of House Sylverian, they say Tameon is, but he doesn’t much care what they say. A man has his own games to play.

Even a dragon needs sleep.
A Sylverian thinks on his feet, standing at a column with a banner on it.
Drapes the dragon, the gold eye on black, the horns of glory.
If dreams can make us kings and queens, what happens when we wake? Does it break?
Crowned king, as is fitting for a Sith, the Force empowering him, it appears to be with Altair Din.
With the Empire, our family shall breathe…is that what Father truly believes?

A man in a sharp goatee, a beard like wings, walks up the Sylverian, all but looking down at the man leaning against a column.
A noble stands, from this house or that, and neither as major as the house that has just now been crowned.
One man is dressed in white with a green doublet, gilded, embroidered in flowers golden.
Other is dressed in long red sleeves, black surcoat, whose chest is studded in black leather.
Plain garments, not fancy, but the colors of his own house does the lord’s firstborn represent.

“House Sylverian, hm? I’ve heard little of you.”
“Call it a technical glitch in the lore archives...”
Tameon adds a shrug in. “But I don’t give a fuck.”
Lord Tithead just then gives a look of ‘how rude’.

He walks away and leaves Tameon to lean in peace.
Sipping his drink, red wine, a balance of bittersweet.
It’s not quite his purpose in life to be impolite to any guest.
Of nipple-sucking lickspittles, well, he has no time for them.

“All alone then, brother?”
A voice to the left next.
A lady is dressed in black robes, chest of dark silver plate.
Through throngs, his sister appears and stands by his side.
Senestra Sylverian, a younger woman, and the family’s twin.

“I was until you walked up.”
Two siblings share a smile.
“Going to linger here a while?”
“Unless I’m given a distraction.”

House Sylverian had come to pay respects, to honor the new king of Eiattu, for him and his, for Sith and Empire too, for themselves, for family as well.

While some houses had come to climb higher, the Sylverians know to bide time, and Tameon is comfortable watching from a distance.

Politics was his sister’s business. Senestra was more in the thick of it than he was; granted, the Sylverians were only just beginning to get their feet wet in the ocean that was outer space.

Though different, these two Sylverians can be quite similar; though it was Senestra and Roth, him and her, who came from the womb at the same time.
And where are you now, brother? In the basement, in the library, craving your Sephi?

“Come, brother, help me mingle with the others.”
Senestra steps forward and loops her arm into his.
“If I must.” The older sibling accepts. “Lead on then.”
They move on, he downs his wine, trades from a tray.

 

[Drane T'keen]

Spoiler: Music

He has no noble house.
But he does have a family.
Donned in a black cloud.
In that black suit of T'keen.

“Long live the King! Long may he reign!”
Drane offers his voice into the chorus.
The floor quakes in thunderous applause.
The audience, and subjects, cheering along.

A Sith within his position has no delusions.
Power is never a Sith’s illusion. He pursues it.
For Drane, however, his power is ever a warrior’s.
Crowns are kings, for Dins, but not for Drane T’keen.

Red sun! Red sun! Red sun! Red sun!
Words curve under ‘King Altair Din!’
No, they intermingle, for Empire, Sith.
Warriors are stronger together, as one.

The whole reason Drane became a Sith was because his Thyrsian parents convinced their son that the Empire could provide their Black Swordsman with the war that no other can.

Drane has since learned this even as he ponders on it. As King Altair, First Of His Name, remains on stage and names his siblings as princes and princesses within his new regime.

Whether it becomes one of tyranny, Drane will have long since bidden this world behind him. His presence was on the battlefield, serving his superiors with the blade over the pen, even though both served as weapons.

This moment, though, is one of coronation and celebration, and Drane has no intention of wasting it. Enthusiastic, excited, loving occasions like these, whether parties or the weather, a guy knows when it is time to fight and when it is time to dine on steak and drink wine.

Drane trades for champagne. Golden nectar, bubbling for a bubbly person, but it is a fact that even a man who maims and murders can be glad.

He sips his drink, wanders throughout the crowd, expertly evading a misplaced elbow whose inertia was bound for him, engaged in momentum at a sixty-six degree angle while the person almost bumping into Drane pivots on his right foot, steps to his left, balances his glass in hand and all is good.

Blinking away whatever that was, Drane moves along, smiling at her and him, ignorant of rank and status and simply seeing attendees at a crowning ceremony.

When walking proves to be satisfying enough, the warrior of the red sun slows to a pause, taking in the scenery, standing and watching.

Altair Din, a king, sits on his seat, a throne, and he looks suited to it as a king should indeed. Altair. The Thyrsian met the Tiefling back on Eriadu, on the balcony, cigarra smoke and whiskey, dancing with him in a row with his friends and singing.

It was a crazy night but all in all Drane had a good time, whiskey and thrown burritos in the evening and burnt toast and coffee in the morning.

He had a feeling that he and the king shared at least one thing in common; Altair Din was paving for peace, apparently, and Drane T’keen knows that peace is something you must bleed for; a door that is yet ever open.

War. War never ends. Red sun, blood lights the skies, burning bright, for a warrior never knows peace. He is black as night, a dark star, the shadow of the sun.

On the floor, Drane turns, spying servants with trays smiling at passers-by; whispers in circles of fine suits and bright dresses, some sparkling.

Pretty. Drane thinks, catching the attention of a woman in white. The man isn't shy but he speaks to the man on his right. @Sebastian Montari

“This is the first coronation I've been in. I admit, it is exciting.”
Drane glances at the man before looking back into the grand room, with music, conversing and laughter creating a chorus of a whole other kind.
“Hail to the King.”
He raises his drink but doesn't wait as glass meets lips and Drane drinks deep.

@Sicadorito

 

[Altair Din]

Altair remained seated on his throne for now and felt awkward about it. Was he supposed to just sit and stare out at the crowds the entire time? As expected, his brothers were making goofballs of themselves, the sight bringing a grin to his face. The tiefling sipped from his goblet, growing to enjoy the wine quite a bit. His gaze flicked to the side when Imani announced that she had something for him. He sat up straighter, staring at her as she approached him. To her great amusement, he would still have that boyish look on his face with a hint of fear, as if he had just gotten in trouble. It was an expression he wore when one of his older sisters marched over to him. (@lizziie )

“You look like a billion Crowns, sis,” He complimented her in Meerian with a grin, “Draugr be lookin’ like an old chancla in comparison,” He snickered loud enough only enough for her to hear. Altair took the envelop and opened it to gaze at the photo. The smirk was replaced with emotion filling his eyes. He stared at it for a long moment, a fond smile on his face, “It means everythin, sis,” He cut in with a whisper before she finished telling him it wasn’t much. His eyes got a bit misty when Imani reminded him that their parents were proud of him. He rose from his throne and pulled her into a hug, drawing a few raised brows from some of his attendants. Altair didn’t care - the Dins were a hugging family. He drew back and smiled at Imani, “Love you, Nani. Nothing will change that, you hear?”

He released her just in time for his younger brother (@LouJoVi ) to come up to him. Altair hadn’t expected any gifts at all, but this was all making him feel warm and fuzzy all around. He looked at the painting and his eyes grew wide, “Mir! You’re so good now, buddy!” He beamed with pride, “I remember when you could only do little stick figures,” Altair pulled his little brother into an embrace, adding it to the list of items he would forever cherish.

After Emir stepped away, Altair grinned as Khalid (@Versok ) approached him. He smiled extra wide when he referred to him as his formal title. Altair snickered as Khalid hinted at what his gift was, “Only if you and ‘Bari join me,” He said as he pulled him into a one armed hug and did a series of complicated hand greetings, “Why you two lookin’ like y’all raided great Aunt Gertrude’s closet, though?” He asked with a raised brow.

A few more moments passed as the crowds began to mingle and his gaze panned over at all the familiar faces. He spotted Clove in the distance, he grinned at Wodan’s salute, looked over at Celeste speaking with Varyn and Caelian talking with… Altair squinted. How did that Johnny Q (@Taygood )guy manage to make his way over to every gathering? He made a point to go say hello at some point. From messing up his 18th birthday cake to being a general weirdo, Johnny Q was growing on Altair. Altair wanted to be friends with the guy.

Altair was distracted from his thoughts when Vahliri (@Altaris) approached him. He smiled at the woman, always awed by how she looked. His face flushed when she curtsied and used his title. Altair shifted a bit in his seat, “You always looking like royalty anytime I see you at one of these things,” He quipped with a smile. He glanced down at her gift, surprise etched on his face as he realized how much effort it would have taken to craft this. His mind returned to Asog and everything that happened there. His gaze flicked up at Vahliri. That trip felt both like a century ago and just yesterday all at once. Altair silently drew out the bracelet and placed it on his left wrist, feeling the crystals hum with life.

After a moment, Altair shrugged off the massive cape and set the blade aside, standing up. He extended a hand to Vahliri, “Would you honor the King with a dance?” He asked, practicing a slightly more polished accent that he would have to adopt over time.

 

[Jabari Din]

Jabari listened to the speech enthusiastically, unable to suppress the ridiculous, toothy grin that worked its way onto his face. His pierced tail flicked and swished, burgundy eyes fixed onto his little brother on the throne. Never in a million years would he picture a Din owning a palace, let alone ruling a planet.

“Too much time ‘round thehigh-sadity asses on Ziost, I say.” He grinned, nudging Khalid. “Come back sounding lik—“ Jabari promptly shut up when Altair started dropping titles upon their family - his grin replaced by a look of utter shock, burgundy eyes wide like a bantha in headlights. The words ‘Prince Jabari Din’ echoed in his mind a dozen times or more, the reality of it all hitting him at once. He blinked a few times, before reaching back to rub the back of his head.

“Shit, man..” He said with a breath of astonishment. A prince? The Tiefling didn’t even begin to wonder what that title meant or how his life would change in an instant, but he would only imagine it was for the better. At one point or another during his internal musings, Jabari drew back the hand from his head - squinting at the white wig powder that now coated his palm.

Blinking, he merely reached over and clapped Khalid on the back - a show of brotherly love in the moment, clearly - and didn’t say a word about the handprint now plastered across the older brother’s back.

Not a moment later, Jabari found himself swarmed by suitors and noblewomen. He stared at the woman who approached him, growing a bit flush at the title that was used and the courtesies she followed. He gawked for a moment or two before extending a hand, tail swishing behind him. “Would be my pleasure, Darlin’.” Jabari wasnt - probably - stupid enough to not see her approach for what it was.. But the Tiefling also didn’t care too much.

As he began to approach the dancefloor, Jabari turned to face the throne - flashing Khalid and Altair a cheesy grin and thumbs up, jutting a chin back to his dance partner. He would make a point to go find his brother before long, but also wasn’t about to ditch the very beautiful woman that wanted his attention.

 

[Caduceus Ramage]

The music began to change as the crowning ceremony began, a triumphant brass section resonating out from the orchestra. As the new king arose from his throne and spoke his short speech. As the short song began to quiet down, it switched from the brass heavy march track to a rather string focused track one can dance to.

Ramage turned his head as Aurelian, an M-3P0 unit, stepped up beside him. Their motions were in sync, the band knowing the switch over was coming soon. It was timed like clock work, like a changing of the guards, as the arachnoid stepped away from the stand and the droid took his place. There wasn't even a skipped beat, as the music continued.

He felt alien here, and not for his looks. Well... not just for them. There were being in this very room who looked like generic depections of demons and devils, yet he still felt like he stuck out more than a sore thumb in a desert with flashing lights. He was not meant to be here. He was not meant to mix and mingle and make small talk. He was meant to conquer, to kill, to obliterate, to win. Yet here he was, and Ramage knew he had to win socially. So he went to find a dance partner, who would be the first woman he found (@LadyRen ).

"Pardon me miss," his velvety voice spoke, "but may I ask for this dance?" He slowly extended a hand to the woman ahead. If he was a weaker man he would be quivering in his boots. Luckily he was not weak.

 

[Caelian]

The festivities now entered their full swing, and Caelian was determined to both embrace it and enjoy the evening. Tipping his head to the intriguing John Q, he made his way through the crowd as the music graced their ears. It never ceased to amaze the Echani how many species had found their home within the empire, plenty passed as human or near enough, but who could have known walkin' talkin' spidermen were among them.

The Din family stood out more easily than most, and perhaps he would get to know them a little better, starting with one in particular. Distracted by his task he sidestepped to avoid a rogue waiter and bumped into the side of someone potentially sending him into the path of his neighbours. Mouthing an apologetic sorry, he pressed on and slipped back into the crowd to avoid causing a confrontation.

Finally, he reached a more familiar, friendly face. It was almost fitting that they seemed to keep bumping into each other in imperial palaces, although that may have just been a coincidence. Caelian flashed a smile and waved to catch Imani's attention as he got within her eye line and signing something appropriate. <Princess Imani Din has a nice ring to it, don't you think?>

For his part, he'd washed up nicely and healed from the bruises that she had seen him wield last time. As the room begun to collect into pairs for the dance floor, he was excited. It wasn't certain that she'd say yes, but he certainly wasn't about to turn down the chance to at least ask as he extended his arm. <Would you like to dance, Princess? It would be an honour.> @lizziie

 

[Darth Draugr]

After receiving an invitation to the Coronation of a Sith amongst his subordinates he would prepare and find a good attire to wear for this event. He figured it may be worth going if Imani was there, and if it was a Coronation then the drinks should be quite the treat for the guests. Fine wine for all who come. The Zabrak would arrive and listen on to the ceremony and Altair's speech regarding his family.

'Princess Imani?' It had a ring to it in Draugr's head. The titled served her well, and she would be a grand Princess as well. The rest of the family had seemed to be here as well, which was a little bit of an opportunity to meet the rest of Imani's family. Should she wish that of course. For now the Sith Lord would look for a drink to enjoy.

A server passing by had red wine on his tray, and Draugr would quickly but gently take one from the tray and take a sip as he watched the whole of the gathering here began to find dancing partners. It was quite the sight. This was better well behaved than any Sith social event he has been to. It was a good change of environment. Altair, or well King Altair, was busy at the moment with a dance it seemed, so Draugr would wait to congratulate him until he was available. Instead he just enjoyed the music and his drink for now.

 

[Max Dram]

Max stood statuesque beside the pillar, eyes fixed on Altair on his throne and the throng around him.

The Sith's achievements were undeniable and Max had huge respect for him, as his superior and now as a king. Indeed, the coronation had moved the Lieutenant, it was true. Seeing the ritual unfold, hearing those ethereal words and imagining everything that went with them. It stirred a longing in Max for his home, for the dynastic traditions of Adumar and the divinity of its own kings.

But the gathered throng made him feel something else. The scions of the Din family numbered beyond the count, strutting here and there as they fawned over each over and their shared glory. There are so many of them. They laughed and danced with many other noble Sith, infamous leaders who until now had just been names on an order transcript to Max. Names he served without question.

There were few enough in the room like him. Few who stood apart from the Dins and the Sith, conscious of the gulf between them. The much vaunted Force; they had it, and Max and his like did not. He wasn't a fool, he knew that was the way of things, and he had seen enough to know the Force was not to be trifled with.

Instead, he had trained, fought, learned, building himself into the very best version of an Imperial soldier. He was stronger than many, but he would never equal them. He had always been fine with that. He was fine with that. Wasn't he?

He reached out and took another drink from a nearby tray, sipping it in silence and brooding.

 

[Varyn Atrix]

Varyn had to nod at Celeste's comment that a lot would change for his whole family now. Varyn wondered to himself if Altair would even have time to just kick back and relax anymore.

Yeah, they'll all be in high demand and married off in no time, he said, snickering and looking around at all the siblings who now had nobles flocking all over them.

He was going to make his way over to Altair to congratulate him - or rather get in line to do so - before he saw Altair and Vahliri were going to dance together. A wave of frustration, jealousy, and generally petty emotions washed over him that despite his mental reprimands, seemed to refuse to abate.

After a moment, he took a breath in and held it for a moment before letting it out. People were starting to begin dancing, but before Varyn could ask Celeste, Spider-Man walked over and asked her, much to his surprise. It was bold probably mostly because he didn't know if Varyn and Celeste had come together, but that'd just have been typical for Varyn. Stop being such a grouch, he thought to himself again.

Maybe I'll catch the next one, he said before taking a step back and letting his eyes sweep over the crowd for someone of his own to dance with.

He made his way through the crowd before spotting the girl that Altair had had such an incident with on their last party. She didn't seem to be dancing and she was both pretty and... seemingly familiar. As if he'd seen her somewhere before but couldn't place her. Perhaps it was petty or perhaps it was just need for a dance partner, but he came to a stop in front of her.

You look quite lovely this evening. Would you honor me with a dance? he asked, extending a hand out to her.

@LadyRen @Olwin @LilyNion

 

[John Q]

John didn’t respond to Caelian. As the latter moved away, so did John, walking slowly so his long robe wouldn’t trip him. Eventually, he came to Caduceus (@Olwin). He patted the man on the shoulder. “We need to change the music,” he whispered. “It is too–” he waved his hand in the air like it were a bird with a wing deformity –”too sublime." John smirked and shook his head. "Perhaps something a bit darker?”

He then shuffled over to the orchestra. But John had learned a few rules of etiquette since his last social occasion. Afterall, he didn’t want to get his other hand blown off. Instead of trying to conduct the orchestra himself with the song he had in mind, he frowned at them while continuing his slow chew of something.

 

[Celeste Stythani]

Celeste's gaze was still on Altair (@Sreeya) as he opened the dancefloor and moved forward with Vahliri (@Altaris) as his first dancing partner. She was hoping to catch a dance with him, too, sooner or later, but wasn't exactly sure whether this would be a great idea here. Time would tell.

For now her gaze flicked back to Varyn, a smirk on her lips as she was definitely in a mood for a dance. "Care for-" she began, her hand already twitching in his direction, however that was when a tall, fluffy spidery man appeared right next to her, asking for thr exact same thing she just wanted to ask Varyn.

Slightly surprised, she couldn't fully suppress raising a brow as she wasn't exactly a fan of spidery creatures, but it was different with spidery, sentient humanoids...right? She hadn't had the pleasure with the Lieutenant before, but polite as she was, she wouldn't refuse.

Her eyes quickly flicked downwards to the additional arms and she wondered how he'd...use them but she met his gaze with a polite smile and nodded. "Of course you may" she answered, taking his extended hand before she entered the dance floor with him. (@Olwin)

Before she started their dance, she quickly threw Varyn another glance, telepathically replying, 'the next one is yours' (@Phoenix), before she focused on her dancing partner. She was looking forward to the dance with Varyn, as there was an irony in it, since the two of them had recently engaged in a few sparring sessions and dancing wasn't too far off from that. But for now she was wondering how skilled the Harch Imperial was on the dancefloor, while she tried hard to stay focused on his main eyes.

 

[Darth Tempest]

Vahliri smiled warmly, watching as Altair accepted the bracelet and placed it on his left wrist. It was a gift that held a great deal of sentimental value - a reminder of Asog and that cave that she never wished to forget. Her cheeks flushed a bit when the Tiefling complimented her, “Especially when I know you’ll be around,” She quipped right back, honeyed eyes lingering on his own.

When the Tiefling rose from his throne and requested a dance, Vahliri immediately extended a hand to take his own - beginning to step down the dais and towards the dancefloor with the Tiefling. “As if you even had to ask,” She said smoothly, giving his fingers a small squeeze.

While many of those in attendance had begun to drift towards the dancefloor, the crowd shifted when Altair rose to join them. A brief round of applause was had for their King, and nobles began to clear the center of the room for the pair. Naturally, several of the would-be suitors made a point to mean-mug Vahliri the entire time. The half-Annfyn didn’t even seem to notice them.

THEME​

At once, ministrals began to play - performing a folk song native to Eiattu for the opening dance. Tugging Altair close, Vahliri immediately began to fall into step with the more formal and light music. Her hips began to sway fluidly as she stepped to the music, one hand grasping Altair’s own while the other came to rest against his shoulder. With the Tiefling tugged close, she began to take long, graceful steps backwards - guiding them across the dancefloor for a few steps. Her eyes never broke from Altair, as he commanded every ounce of her attention in that moment.

“Might be our first dance without someone trying to butt in,” She grinned

With a sudden pull, Vahliri spun them as a conjoined unit - a movement that caused the train of her gown to whip up in a flurry of fabric. She switched their positions, allowing Altair to begin leading them backwards and across the dancefloor