Open Social Lettuce Celebrate

[Jasnah Atreides]

Jasnah just took it all in, the way his tail moved at that first verse, the way he whipped away at the last moment when he started singing, the teasin with the girls around the stage, and then the setup for the next song.

She stopped playing, with the rest of the band keeping Altair company, and instead sat back, folding her arms before her and following Altair with a smile on her face. She knew what he was doing, and she didn't care that it was working. She had just been complaining about the party not being fun, well this definitely had the potential to change that. She got to her feet, and as he sang she spotted one of the band members who seemed to be just standing atound after someone had stolen his triangle, and whispered something into his ear.

By the time the song ended she was ready, and slowly moved through the stage towards Altair. She walked right up to him, and pressed a hand onto his, pressing both back against his chest while the other hand reached up to gently graze his chin the same way he had to many a girl during his singing. Raising herself on tip-toe so that she was almost face to face with him, she leaned forward, but moved to the side at the last minute so that he would feel her breath on his ear.

"I am Jasnah," she whispered softly, hand curling into his hand that still gripped the mic he had been using, "and you are Altair, the Hero of Korriban. That's good," she gave him a quick peck on the cheek as she pulled back, "because I was looking for a Hero tonight." She pulled her hand back from his, taking the mic with her, and turned to the other keyboard player and spoke into the mic.

"C minor, put it in C minor." She walked down the stage as the piano started playing, and slowly turned back to Altair as she started singing, serenading him to the slow piano notes.

Music​

" ♪ Where have all the good men gone
And where are all the Gods?
Where's the streetwise Palpatine, to fight the rising odds?
Isn't there a white knight, upon a fiery steed?
Late at night I toss and I turn,
And I dream of what I need ♪ "

By the last two lines she had circled back to him, and locked eyes with him as she sang, before clicking a finger as the guitar and drums kicked in.

" ♪ I need a hero, I'm holdin' out for a hero 'til the end of the night! ♪ " She circled around him, and let a hand rest on his arm, feeling the strength of the muscles underneath as she continued. "He's gotta be strong, and he's gotta be fast, and he's gotta be fresh from the fight! ♪ "

As the song picked up, she pulled away, but even as she sang her eyes were almost always on him. The crowd moved to the song, danced, sang along. But she had made sure that he knew that she was singing for him.

@Sreeya

 

[Imani Din]

Imani's eyes followed Sol's to the stage, momentarily switching between him and Altair. She would admit she wasn't sure how to read the facial expressions of a Kel'dor, but there seemed to be an unmistakable look of either interest or entertainment somewhere in his gaze. She broke away to look back at Draugr, looking back only when Sol addressed it.

"Phrasin' it like that brings me back to my academy days," she chuckled softly to herself, recalling the various flings she'd had and the subsequent gossiping about those flings to her friends. "But, yes, I like him. He's got a certain charm to him." There were quite a few things she liked about the Zabrak. Despite his brutish ways, he wasn't a mindless, angry barbarian with a one-track mind. She liked the way he responded to her flirting, and she never tired of the way his eyes just so slightly shone when she complimented him.

And, of course, he was deliciously handsome. Imani would always be a sucker for horns and tattoos.

"I believe I met him at a party. Altair's Huttball celebration, if I remember correctly." She'd spotted him lounging in the pool after being accosted by some woman flirting with him in a growling language. The woman hadn't stuck around though, and Imani was pretty sure it'd been a dare of some sort. "What about you? Anyone here you fancy?"

Since they were on the topic, she figured she'd ask. She didn't know anything about the Kel'dor, but small talk was small talk. He could just as easily brush it off and continue with something else. Imani listened for Sol's answer while watching Jasnah's piano performance, equally impressed with both the woman's confidence and voice.

tag: @Nevermourn

 

[Clove Vanhoop]

---

The dance with Aadya had been fantastic, each minute feeling as if it was slowly stitching her heart back together again. Having the closure she craved, as well as the freedom to move forward, gave her a breath of fresh air. That is, until Altair decided to leap onto the stage and start singing. Her gaze was drawn to Altair's; she couldn't help herself; the way he was half naked, slowly grinding the air, it was impossible not to look.

Then his gaze met hers. Just for a split second, before vanishing again. And, combined with the lyrics he had been singing, she knew what it meant.

Clove gave Aadya one last swirl, a faint smile on her lips, forcing herself to remain calm and collected. She was banking on the freedom she had felt only seconds before. Then she let go of the girl and bowed her upper body elegantly to thank her for the dance. "I'll go see what's goin' on at the stage, but thank you for... this night." Every word was genuine, drenched in gratitude.

After she made her way to the stage, stopping in the middle of the crowd, her large brown eyes fixed on violets. She was irritated by the show. A fair amount at that. But then, from the back of the stage, another girl appeared. The girl from the fabric.

The moment she recognized the lyrics and realized what song it was, her blood began to boil. And when Altair sang back to the girl, the boiling turned into a flame. He wasn't just singing; he was winking, flirting, and teasing the girl as well. Every stitch Aadya had managed to reattach began to tremble and threaten to snap and break.

She managed to stare in complete silence long enough for the song to end and Altair to begin another. The lyrics reached her ears, and the pretty girl in the stunning gown joined in. She started pressing up against him, touching him all over, before singing a love song herself. About needing a hero, no less. All the while circling him, touching him and staring at him with a gaze that disgusted her. The stitches came undone in one rip.

A pain so intense that she thought the air had been kicked out of her lungs shot through her chest, her stomach on the verge of giving up, but she couldn't tell if it was due to the pain or the champagne she'd been drinking. Clove's breath began to quicken as the song progressed, her hands trembling from the rage coursing through her veins, her vision almost turning red.

The moment the music stopped, Clove channeled the Force through her body before abruptly releasing it towards the instrument cables, yanking at them until the instruments were unplugged. She moved quickly over to the small audio table, which she thankfully somewhat recognized from her days in the ballet academy's training halls. Enough to understand what to do to get the speakers to work. She took hold of her datapad and plugged it into the cable that was connected to the speakers.

The two could play this game.

Song.​

She abruptly turned around to face Altair as her music started to play instead of theirs. With eyes ablaze, Clove approached him beneath the stage, but far enough away that neither the pretty girl on stage nor Wodan could easily reach her. Nobody was going to interrupt her, not until she was finished. And that blazing gaze? It was fixed on him and only him.

The Force swirled through her body once more, but this time it didn't leave; she let the Force amplify her voice, making it loud enough to be heard without a microphone. And she began to sing. Unlike Altair, or the girl behind the piano, Clove wasn't the best singer. Sure, she could hold a note and was comfortable in a low enough range, and she clearly had a musical and rhythmic sense, still, it was clear she was untrained. But all of that was overshadowed by the emotions that ran through each and every line, words she almost screamed at Altair.

"All those lonely miles that you ride,
Now you'll walk with no one by your side,
Did you ever even care,
With your gloves and your stupid hair?
Now watch me laugh as I burn all the memories of you."

Clove tossed her arms in the air during a brief pause in the music. She used it to talk, no, scream, her voice bellowing. "This what you are fuckin' looking for, Altair?! IS IT?"

She scoffed, before continuing. She didn't dance or sensually touch somebody, there was no movement besides furious hands and arms gestures and the shaking of her head.
"What for d'you yearn?
It's the point of no return!
After everything we did, we saw,
You turned your back on me,
What for d'you yearn?
Watch that butcher burn!"

Her eyes widened at the word butcher, her teeth baring slightly. It was a reminder of how he kept calling himself a monster, a killer, a Sith first and foremost. Refusing to take her at her word that she would still love him despite his actions. That even after Dantooine, where he lay in the field of corpses after killing Jedi and Rebels, she brought him back from the dead without hesitation. But if he wanted to play the monster, that's fine. Let him be the butcher.

"At the end of my days when I'm through,
No word that I've written will ring quite as true as "burn!"
Burn, butcher, burn,
Burn, butcher, burn!
Burn, burn, burn, burn, burn, burn, burn..."

Her voice began to lose the power it once possessed, her rage gradually replaced by the sadness that always seemed to follow her rage.

"Watch me burn all the memories of you..." She said in a whisper, the Force disappearing from her throat.

Hot tears of rage and sadness welled up in her eyes, but she fought them off. She wasn't going to give Altair the pleasure of seeing her cry again. No. This time she wouldn't be the small little girl, wailing as Altair left her. Without waiting for a response, Clove spun around and made her way to the palace's exit, no longer interested in talking with anybody.

---

​

/exitattempt
Tag @Sreeya @Wit @Logan ​

 

[Bel]

The lightning blast sent Bel's way caused him to recoil before finishing off his sentence. Turned his left shoulder and arm towards the attack to shield himself, but the Sith lightning ravaged his shoulder and still knocked him off his feet. Everything began to slow down for the Agent as he began to think long and hard about all of this. Caelian had been a liability, but was Raze's treatment the right one? Was fear the only thing the Sith cared about? Yes, music and singing could be heard in the background of his slowed thoughts, but at everyone's core... they all wanted blood. Vahliri definitely did. Altair did. Sol probably did.

To be Sith? Bel understood now. They were the necessary evil that the rest of the galaxy needed. And some would say that they weren't evil at all- simply doing what needed to be done because no would else had the guts to do it themselves. Now Bel saw what Raze saw in Vahliri when she offered to deliver punishment. He was still pissed and wanted revenge, but he understood nonetheless.

Then, time sped up and the Zabrak was knocked right into Anai before she plowed him into the ground, knocking him out cold. This wouldn't be the last of Bel that Vahl would see. But, now a new philosophy had entered his unconscious mind... Something about a Shadow...

...and a Ren...

@Altaris @Versok

 

[Sol Kenuk]

A charm? The Kel'dor is thoughtful. What charm did Draugr have? Well, beyond his looks, or his skill in battle. In truth, it makes Sol realize just how little he really knew about the Zabrak on anything beyond a professional level. Clearly, Imani had seen a side of the Master than the Kel'dor had not, a potentially softer side than Draugr would show anyone else. Sol is curious, of course, because the more information he had on other Sith, the better. For good or for bad, really.

The Tiefling inquires as to whether or not Sol fancied anyone. He tilts his head, pondering his answer. For a serious, real relationship? In truth, no. When it came to sex, the Kel'dor might have a couple of answers for her, but he doubted Imani wanted to hear about how Sol wouldn't mind railing her brother, and really... judging by how quick she was to slap Draugr, the Kel'dor doubts he'd be very safe from that sisterly wrath either. The thought is still amusing though, enough to make him smirk behind his mask.

"I don't think I know anyone here well enough to say I'd date them." Sol answers, and he's truthful, of course. He hadn't really met anyone that he'd consider having a long term relationship with. Perhaps it just wasn't in the man's nature. He enjoyed a night of fun, and that was usually as far as he was willing to take things. But love? Responsibility? Sharing his burdens with another person? Sol's not sure that he likes the idea of that. It sounded more akin to an annoyance.

"I suppose I just haven't met the right man yet." The Kel'dor offered a half-shrug to the woman. Perhaps one day, someone would come around that would blow his socks right off. Today was not that day, though. "I wish you and Draugr luck, though. The life of a Sith is not a safe one." He admits quietly. The music stops abruptly, and Sol looks up toward the stage. There was that Annfyn that Aadya had been dancing with, the one that Altair seemed so unhinged about.

Chords are ripped from the wall, and suddenly the girl near the stage was singing. The pain on her face seemed bared for all to see, even from where the Kel'dor watched from among the spectators. The lyrics were just as pointed as Altair's had been, until finally they seemed to fade. The Kel'dor is quiet as Clove turns on her heel after the song to promptly make her way out of the crowd, and presumably, out of the palace. Well... that was certainly something.

Sol was entertained at least.

He didn't know Clove, had no connection to her, only knew that something had gone terribly wrong between her and Altair, and that she was in a crippling amount of pain, enough to cause such a public display of her anger. Sol is no Jedi though, no empath seeking to solve other's problems, no gentleman looking to insure the woman was alright. The severity of it was at least sharp enough that he didn't find it all that funny anymore. Sol was always one to enjoy a bit of drama, but that was a lot. Not merely some fight, or a Sith power struggle, but something else entirely. Something Sol would probably never understand.

And then of course, there was the sound of Bel cracking against the floor as he collapsed. That fight was finally done, it seemed. Well, at least that was something that the Kel'dor could find enjoyment in, even if the ball-room had been chocked into silence. The air seemed so thick with emotion that a knife could slice through it. Sol finally drags his eyes away, peers at Imani with an unreadable expression, not that his mask made many of his expression readable to begin with.

"Well, so much for the celebration. It seems the alcohol and emotion has gotten to everyone's heads." Sol doesn't even sigh, just speaks with a dryness to his tone. It had all been rather enjoyable to watch, really, and in the end, he got to get to know a potential new ally. "Do you know what happened between that girl and Altair?" The Kel'dor dares to ask. He knew little of Clove, nothing of her past relationship. Perhaps Imani didn't either.

@lizziie @Scoobert @LilyNion @Charles @Sreeya

 

[Imani Din]

Imani listened to Sol's response and gave him an understanding nod when he came to the conclusion that he didn't. She could understand that, and she wouldn't challenge it or prod further. They were, after all, just strangers chatting amidst some particularly chaotic happenings. His quiet offer of good luck to her and her date was not unappreciated, though. Imani gave him a warm smile, but before she could continue the small talk, there was an abrupt ending to the music.

Curious, Imani turned her attention toward the stage, wondering what was going on. Her eyes found a familiar figure—though she couldn't place from where at first—over by the DJ stand fiddling with a datapad. Between the usage of the Force to tear out the instrument's plugs out of the amp system and the now musicless hall, all eyes were on Clove as she finally got her datapad connected and began to sing out into the room.

To say she was dumbfounded at what happened next was an understatement. Imani watched and listed as the tiny Anfynn girl nearly screamed out the lyrics of the song while glaring daggers at Altair.

"Where do I know her from?" She looked so familiar, and if she knew Altair, it wasn't unlikely that Imani had bumped into her before. But for the moment she couldn't place it, so she continued to watch, cringing slightly from second-hand embarrassment. What had gone on between these two to elicit such an emotional outburst from the girl?

When it was finally over, Imani continued to watch—mouth slightly agape—until Clove stormed out of the room. She tore her eyes away from Sol spoke again, commenting on the events that had just unfolded before the both of them.

"Clearly," she agreed, glancing over toward her brother to see how he was reacting to the outburst. She was absolutely prepared to check up on him, but she wouldn't jump the gun. Despite the urge to protect her siblings, she'd already overreacted once tonight. The party didn't need to turn anymore into a musical than it already had.

"I'm not sure. A jealous ex maybe?" She knew her brother dated, though she didn't care to know much more than that. "Or- Oh, I think that's the girl that was on his Huttball team. The one who was in the wheelchair." That's where Imani recognized her from. She'd been at Altair's Huttball-birthday party too.

"Minus the singin', this certainly reminds me of the academy. I can't say I miss this part of it." Though, she failed to add, if it hadn't involved her brother, she might've found it a bit amusing.

tag: @Nevermourn

 

[Luwalhati]

Luwalhati approached one of the medics as they began to treat Varyn, handing over the tray with the Champion's broken glass. They advised the medic that they might find traces of what had caused the Champion's temporary paralysis before looking at the still unmoving man. (@Phoenix)

"You'll be alright," they told Varyn. Lu hazarded a quick glance to where Vahliri and Bel where fighting, nodding as the half-Anfynn's lightning struck true. Another Sith Champion, Anai (@Versok), jumped in to deliver a final blow on the agent. Gazing back at Varyn, the Acolyte gave the man a polite tilt of their head. "You'll have company soon."

Given how angry Vahliri had been the moment she realized who was at fault for Varyn's collapse, Lu didn't hold on to much hope with regards to Bel's fate. The agent had been foolish enough to spike a Champion's drink in a public setting – much more when said Champion was surrounded by friends. Stepping away from Varyn and the medics, Lu noticed Draugr being attended to by other medics and let out another wince when they glimpsed the state of the Sith Master's arm. They would avert their gaze to give the Zabrak some privacy while his injuries were being treated, the singing on stage attracting the Acolyte's attention.

As they stepped within the stage's visual range, Lu's attention was promptly thrown off by the knife-eared girl, singing something about burning a butcher then shouting angrily at Altair who stood on the stage beside the woman who helped Varyn earlier. From physical fighting, it looked like another form of fighting was being raged on the dance floor while the Acolyte was distracted. For once, Lu was thankful enough that they managed to stay this long in attendance to see the social devolve from fist fights into a musical battle.

Sith parties sure were wild.

As the tiny elf girl finished her song and proceeded to storm towards the exit, Lu practically bounced towards the bar, settling quietly a few seats away from Sol and Imani. Their gaze were focused on the stage, waiting for Altair's response to the burning butcher song.

 

[Wodan]

Even though Wodan was well past sober, the offer of Spice didn’t intrigue him, seeing what it had done to a few of the evening’s guests already he was happy to just pass the bag along tonight. Maybe one day in the future he would try it, but not when he was as trashed as he already was. “CHARGE!” He shouted as the three daft, pissed as a fart Sith clattered their way through the balcony doors and back into the room.

“Why does anyone wear shirts? I tell you, it's some cosmic dude, he doesn’t like titties, so he invented the shirt. That's why!” Wodan replied to Caerllion as the Annfyn joined him and Altair in the bare chested brigade. “You.” He shouted in glee as he saw the quickly departing drummer, the Firrerrian pouncing on the man as he left the stage. With little coordination he collapsed into the fleeing man, crushing him under his own body weight, his smashed into the floor a wet crunch which went unnoticed by the Acolyte as he pulled the drumsticks from his quickly cooling hands. With a lot of effort he untangled himself from the drummer's body and pulled himself up onto the stage.

Altair was already singing, the terrified guitarist standing behind him strummed along with a stiff expression. With a quick glance at the Firrerrian he went from pale to ghost white when he spotted Wodan staggering past, his bare chest covered in the blood of his bandmate.

Wodan found the drummer's stool, his first attempt at sitting on it ended up with him tipping straight off his head smacking off the snare. The second attempt worked and he was just about balanced enough to start playing as the song entered its final chorus. He was able to just about make enough of an impact that a few of the lovely ladies looked in his direction at the end of the song. He gave one a wink as he leaned around the giant Tiefling, although he ended up leaning a little too far, ending up on the floor again the drummers stool spinning out in the other direction.

He was still lying on the floor when Jasnah began playing her little tune. “I know this one.” He called, holding one drumstick up in the air from his collapsed heap on the floor. “I know it, just, need to get, up.” He continued as he tried to heave himself up from the floor. “Who stole my chair? Damn tittie hating demon.” He shouted waving his fist in the sky. “Oh.” He mumbled as he found it next to where he was standing, he was just able to pull it in place in time for the drumming to start.

He was now covered in sweat, the blood from the drummer was slowly being washed away down his chest as the song finished. Altair moved into a different type of song, one Wodan had never heard before, let alone knew how to play any of the beats to it. Instead he lent back and soaked in the crowd and noise. “Hey. Come here.” He shouted towards a nearby server, who gingerly made his way towards the Firrerrian. “I need two bottle of Rum and a pack of Jenson and White Super Platinum.” The man nodded more in fear than servitude as he ran off the stage to get Wodan his stuff.

Wodan may have blacked out for a moment, because he was sure Altair was singing one moment and the next Jasnah had the mic and was halfway through the crowd. Wodan shook his head and rubbed his eyes as he tried to remember what was going on. As he looked back up the server was back, with his Rum and Cigarettes, maybe he had blacked out. Shrugging he grabbed the pair of Rum bottles, placing one on the floor next to him whilst ripping off the cap of the other and taking a long swig. Thirst quenched he lit himself a cigarette taking a long pull, it had been years since he smoked and in that moment he wondered why he ever bloody quit.

Altair and Jasnah were heating up, then, silence. What the hell just happened, he looked around along with the rest of the crowd until they say the girl from earlier. “Shit, it was Clove.” Only after copious amounts of alcohol and some nicotine had he finally pulled it together to understand that this girl was the bitch which had destroyed his brother so much and it seemed she was intent on doing it again. As she was singing Wodan stood up and grabbed the nearest man, screaming in his face. “Go fix the fucking audio, now!”

Although the man wasn’t quick enough to kick the sound back into gear until after Clove had finished her temper tantrum on the mic. The sound of amp’s being plugged back in echoed around the near silent hall, Wodan wasn’t about to let the night die right there. Grabbing the spare bottle of rum he uncorked the top and tossed it towards Altair. “Altair catch.” With that he poured half his own bottle across the snare and floor tom, took a big gulp of the drink himself and sat down in place. A flick of the lighter and both drums burst into flames as he started playing.

Music​

@Sreeya @LouJoVi @Wit @LilyNion

 

[Varyn Atrix]

Varyn continued trying to clear the toxins from his body when the woman (@Wit) started trying to move him. That was fine he suppo- thwack. Sure enough, his unprotected nose bonked right into her shoulder and he let out the very quiet, faintest of groans because that was about all he could manage.

Fortunately, as she inspected him, there was no blood pouring out of it. He absolutely wasn't expecting her to smack him across the face, stinging spread across his face and she would be able to sense the spike of rage in the Force.

Fortunately again, someone came over to inject him with a reversal medication - wow, they really carried that here, which made him wonder how often this happened - and he started to get the first relief.

With the medication and the detox together, he could start to get the first bits of movement to return.

Er Ali, he said. Okay, so evidently, his mouth wasn't really back yet and he let out a heavy, exaggerated groan of frustration.

He tried to push himself up but standing was still out of the question. However he was now able to reach up and rub his eyes and blink, which were both luxuries that you didn't appreciate until they were gone.

As the acolyte @Forsythe Crowholde approached to give reassurance Varyn responded. Ah e ed et? Okay, well he tried to respond and another groan of frustration.

 

[Caerllion of Cyfnos]

Caerllion stared at Wodan while he talked about the use of shirts. The Annfyn admired the words of the Firrerreo as if he was some type of genius. "Yeah, you are absolutely right!” his mind was too drugged to question the logic of what he was hearing. For him, all of that made sense. “We should stop wearing shirts! Everyone should do it! Down with the shirts!”

While he danced, Caerllion noticed that Wodan was climbing on the stage. “Awww, I want to go here too!” the Annfyn immediately went after the Firrerreo. While he liked to be the center of attention when doing a speech at the parliament in Annwfyn, in his right mind the Acolyte would never climb on the stage during a party.

“Sorry! I don’t want to disturb you!” he smiled stupidly, while jumping over the drummer that Wodan had crushed. In his drugged state, Caerllion ignored the fact that the fallen man had fainted and could be even dead. He believed that the guy was only sleeping.

Since he had carried his shirt and suit with him, the Annfyn used them to cover the man’s body like a blanket. “Have nice dreams!” he smiled, before following Wodan toward the stage.

When he reached the middle of the stage, Caerllion tried to find something that he could do. Altair was singing, while Wodan used the drummer. Since he didn’t found any harp and even less the triangle that the Firrerreo had mentioned, the Annfyn decided to dance for all the guests to see.

He copied the movements that Altair did to the public, while adding some of his own. The Annfyn moved his body according to the music, while giving a sight of his defined chest and abs to everyone to see. His movements would attract the attention of some people in the crows. In his drugged state, the Acolyte had become the dancer of the Tiefling and Firrerreo’s band.

@Sreeya @Braden

 

[Sol Kenuk]

A jealous ex? That certainly made the most sense. Sol snorts as the Tiefling brings up her days at the academy, and all the while, it seemed that the chaos was growing, akin to the fire that he had helped that waitress put out earlier. The drummer, by that point, looked well and truly dead. His eyes were still open, glassed over and lifeless. A senseless death, a waste of life. The Kel'dor distances himself from the thought. With as chaotic as Wodan and Caerllion seemed to be getting, it was only a matter of time before they themselves got hurt, or simply passed out on stage.

"I don't miss the academy at all." Sol finally responds, though it seemed that his focus was glued to the chaos taking place around him. It was so loud. "Annnd, the drums are on fire." The Kel'dor snorts. "Who do you think is going to pass out first?" Finally, he tears his eyes away to gaze upon Imani with a grin. Caerllion's dancing was about as good as one could expect from someone baked and drunk off their ass. The newfound fire glowed from where it burned upon the stage. At least Varyn seemed to be moving now, and just in time to see the chaos of the apparent musical.

@lizziie

 

[The Storyteller]

As Clove made for the exit, she would run past an elderlycouple, librarians from the archive on Korriban, who had flown all the way to Eriadu to celebrate their 69th anniversary at the Empire's expense. They, and many like them, still strove to keep the celebration in line with what it was, a formal gathering for them to enjoy themselves. But the kids had ruined it for them, and they and others like them gave Clove dirty looks as she passed them, for in that moment she represented everything that was wrong with the youth of this generation.

And outside the main hall was no better, a gathering of broken-hearted Sith and Imperials awaited. Some alone, some in groups, weeping their sorrows away. While the revelers enjoyed the shift in the atmosphere of the gathering, others wept at lost love, missed opportunities, torn gowns that had taken up a years worth of savings, and more than one blistered foot from dancing way too fast in shoes that were made purely for the slow, careful ways of the ballroom.

It was a Sith party after all, where some wept, while others fed on that very suffering to reach even higher highs.

 

[Imani Din]

"I miss the learnin'. I was always the studious type." She'd graduated top of her class, despite the various shenanigans she'd wormed her way in and out of. "But the drama? I don't miss a lick of it." Call her boring, but she was far past wanting to be involved in it. Witnessing it? Taking advantage of it? Half of that was her job now, and that she didn't mind at all.

At the sight of the drums catching fire, the tiefling's eyebrows raised up to the ceiling. First the curtains, now the instruments? The drummer didn't look like he was still breathing either, which was unfortunate. She couldn't imagine being sent to play a gig at a Sith party and leaving in a body bag because someone set her drumset on fire.

"S'cuse me," Imani gently caught the arm of a woman quickly passing by (@LadyRen), hoping to stop her and draw her attention to the chaos on stage. "Could you get him over to the medics? Please?" Imani pointed out the unconscious body of the drummer by the edge of the stage, not far from where his drumset was ablaze. As long as Celeste did as Imani asked, she would turn back to answer Sol's question.

"Erm..." She looked back over to the stage, eyeballing Wodan, Caer, and her brother. Her eyes lingered on the Annfyn, and her decision was made. "Him. The Annfyn. I don't think he looks like he can hold a drink," she chuckled in explanation. Her brother would be fine; alcohol and drugs didn't last long in their silvered blood. If she remembered correctly, the Firrerreos had similarly high tolerances. "Unless he gets some food in him soon, I don't think-"

"Excuse me! Could I interest either of you in a mini burrito?"

Imani turned her head, curious to see who had interrupted her conversation with Sol. A servant boy, no older than twenty-two, held out a silver platter lined with perfectly golden mini burritos stacked perfectly and artistically together. She blinked, considering for a moment, then decided that she wasn't all that hungry.

"I'm good, thank you. You might have a bit more luck by the stage though," she suggested, gesturing specifically to Caer (@LouJoVi) who was still stumbling drunkenly around the stage. "Might be good to get some food in their stomachs."

Figuring that was a decent idea, the mini burrito man would offer Sol one, then make his way over toward the stage. He was nimble, dodging the excited partygoers while simultaneously distributing the finger food amongst the crowd. Eventually he made his way up close enough to the stage to hold the platter up and offer them to those upon it.

"Mini burritos, anyone?"

tags: @Nevermourn @Sreeya @Braden

 

[Aadya Rasheer]

Dancing with Clove was more fun than it should have been; Aadya finding herself unable to keep the smile off her face as the two moved to the beats of the music. She would press her body onto Clove as the danced, or at least as closely as the small Annfyn would let her.

Aadya loved the feeling of Clove's skin when it touched her own. She was.. different than anyone Aadya had ever been attracted to.. wait. Fuck. Was she attracted to Clove?? When, where, why?

Aadya shook those thoughts from her head when Clove mentioned not knowing anything about her. A fair statement, of course. But Aadya's secrets were not hidden behind a screen door. They were locked away inside of a durasteel safe and buried four hundred miles underground. Prying details from her was not something that came easily.

Before she could dance around Clove's question, the girl thanked her for her dance and mentioned wanting to go take a look at the shenanigans taking place on stage. The slightest ghost of a disappointed grimace would find its way into the corners of Aadya's smile but she wouldn't protest.

As Clove departed and headed for the stage, Aadya would hold her hand for just a few moments longer than she should have, her thumb caressing Clove's hand for a moment before she'd finally let go, just like people did in the movies when one person wanted to go but the other didn't, but was too shy to say anything.

As Aadya watched Clove head for the stage where Altair was currently gyrating with some rando girl, she was fully unprepared for what was about to happen. Being the center of attention and acting like a jackass in front of everyone was par for the course with Altair, but when the song words exploded from the tiny ex-Jedi, Aadya couldn't help but let her jaw hang open just a little bit.

At first, Aadya didn't think she should chase after Clove. The girl clearly had her own plans and those plans consisted of getting the hell out of this party. After a few minutes of waffling, she decided that she was going to give Clove the space she clearly wanted. Sort of. Taking out her datapad, Aadya shot Clove a couple text messages before tucking her phone back in her pocket.

Turning her attention back to the stage, Aadya watched as that weird Caer dude climbed up there and started doing.. whatever the hell it was that he was doing. Unable to keep herself from laughing, Aadya shook her head before saying:

Hoooly, that dude is cringe as fuck.

She wasn't talking to anyone in particular, since at this point Aadya was standing on the dance floor all by herself. With a sigh, she'd turn to go find the bar.

She needed a strong ass drink, if for no other reason than to distract her from constantly checking her phone to see if Clove had texted her back.

 

[Altair Din]

Jasnah.

The name was whispered beautifully into his ear, sending chills down his spine. This was a woman that knew what she wanted and knew exactly how to get it. She had Altair’s full attention as she started to sing. The tiefling’s tail eagerly swayed as Jasnah moved around him, feeling her touch against his skin. At one point, his tail came up to slide up along her leg before she teasingly moved back. Altair had a follow up song in mind, but that was when the instruments were abruptly unplugged. The crowds began to complain and look around for the source.

Altair’s eyes widened when Clove, of all people, began to sing. He was stunned in silence as he watched her. It didn’t matter that she sounded slightly off key, this was a scene he never expected in a million years. Altair had written them all off at least for tonight - Vahliri, Aadya, Clove, and anyone else that wouldn’t be there when it counted, or so he told himself. She had seen Clove with Aadya and he knew what would come from that. He never expected Clove to pull away from that to attack him in his own medium.

There was no smirk or confident grin as he stood there, his tail once again limp as he saw the rage in Clove as she sang to him. The song spewed nothing but hatred towards him, and it cut like a dagger in his chest. So he was the butcher, huh? His jaw tightened as he looked at her, seeing the pain in her eyes and hearing it in her voice, which was a stark contrast to the pure vitriol she sang to him. Altair didn’t respond at her shrieking question, standing perfectly still to let her tirade wash over him. She knew him well enough to know he was angry. He didn’t need to say a word, she would see it in his eyes and the way the very end of his tail curled the slightest bit.

By the end of it, he was left numb, and left reeling from her more or less condemning him and what he was. Altair didn’t move even as Wodan started up the next song, though he did catch the bottle that was thrown. The tiefling took a long swig, still rattled as he looked in Clove’s direction.

Unfortunately for Clove, she managed to piss off a fair amount of women standing by the front of the stage with her antics. Not only had she interrupted Altair’s performance, but she had openly insulted him. A few of them blocked her path as she made for the exit, demanding to know who she thought she was.

Meanwhile, Altair exhaled softly before bringing up the mic to his lips. He began to sing before Clove fully managed to leave the room and past the angry drunk fans. He thought of all the ways she claimed to love him all while still being a Jedi in all but name. While silently judging him for every action.

Song​

“My lover's got humor
She's the giggle at a funeral
Knows everybody's disapproval
I should've worshiped her sooner
If the Heavens ever did speak
She's the last true mouthpiece
Every Sunday's getting more bleak
A fresh poison each week”

By now he stepped off the stage and down into the crowd, carrying the mic with him. He walked directly towards Clove, his gaze piercing into hers.

“"We were born sick", you heard them say it,” Altair sang as he gestured to himself and all of the rest of the Sith in the room. Every single individual that the Jedi and the rest of the galaxy had condemned. That she silently judged while pretending to do otherwise.
“My church offers no absolutes
She tells me, "Worship in the bedroom"
The only Heaven I'll be sent to
Is when I'm alone with you”

By now he was directly in front of her. Without warning, he pressed Clove back against the wall behind her, his voice still projecting across the room with the mic.

“I was born sick, but I love it
Command me to be well”

As he sang, his free hand touched against her shoulder, his fingers tracing down along the side of her body. He began to lower himself, his touch sliding along her hip and down the thigh where there was a slit in her dress. Altair started crouching down to where his face was inches away from her thigh as he sang. He wanted her to feel the heat from his body, wanted her to remember the way his breath felt against her skin, wanted to remind her of all the ways she loved and hated him.

“Take me to church
I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
Offer me that deathless death
Good God, let me give you my life
Take me to church”

His hand slid down the length of her leg till he was kneeling on the ground before her and singing up at her. As he sang to her of her hypocrisy. As he sang to her of all the ways she was a Jedi in all but name, of all the ways she had set her righteous standards and expected others to fit into those molds. How she professed love for all, but privately couldn’t stomach it. How she claimed to love him for all the ways he was Sith, and yet condemned him as the butcher all in that same breath. Spoke of burning all parts of him.

“I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
Offer me that deathless death
Good God, let me give you my life”

Altair sang to her from the ground, leaving her to stand high and proud above him. Where she always put herself. After a moment, he finally rose to stand again, taking steps back from her as he continued to sing, his voice projecting powerfully.

“If I'm a pagan of the good times
My lover's the sunlight
To keep the Goddess on my side
She demands a sacrifice
Drain the whole sea
Get something shiny
Something meaty for the main course
That's a fine looking high horse
What you got in the stable?
We've a lot of starving faithful
That looks tasty
That looks plenty
This is hungry work”

The tiefling didn’t run away this time, standing a distance away from her while still in the crowd. He would finish the whole song like that. He stood loud and proud of whatever he was. The butcher. The demon. The sin that she wanted to commit over and over again. He was done pretending to be anything else.

@LilyNion

 

[Jasnah Atreides]

It had taken Jasnah a moment or two to figure out what had happened with the instruments, and even when Clove started singing it took her a few moments to spot her and realize it was the girl from earlier. At first she assumed she was singing to her, taking out some vendetta about the whole clothing incident. But then she stopped singing and called out to ALtair, and things fell into place.

So not just some random crazy, but a scorned ex, that made more sense.

She turned to Wodan, wondering if his reaction would give her some insight into what the deal was with the elf girl, but then Altair started signing and she realized that there was likely even more there than she would have guessed. So this was where that first song had come from, all that pain and anguish. It was for her.

Suddenly, she felt very happy about the whole incident with her drape, and almost wished she had done more. Still, by them the instruments were mostly back online, and Jasnah moved back to the keyboard and began playing to support Altair. She didn't care about getting caught up in the middle of a musical duel between two...whatever they were, she was just enjoying the ride. As her granda used to say, misery loves company, and Sith were a miserable lot.

@Sreeya @LilyNion

 

[Clove Vanhoop]

---

Oh, those dripping wet lettuce ladies, why were they blocking her!? In frustration, her gaze scanned the crowd of hopeless fangirls. Had she hurt their poor precious little Altair? A man who'd never love them? No, she wasn't going to justify an answer to them. She wouldn't tell them who she was because it didn't matter to them.

While she was looking for a way to get out, Altair's voice suddenly rang through the dance floor. It drew her attention away from the ladies, causing her entire body to turn around to face him instead. She knew she hurt him and she knew she angered him. That was the whole point: to confront him and show him that, for once, she wasn't going to back down. That she would fight back and not let him or anyone else walk all over her. But it was awkward that she couldn't leave after her attack because she was now forced to watch his reaction to her confrontation.

She was forced to watch the Tiefling walk down the stage, his gaze now locked on hers, just as hers had been on his just moments before. He got closer and closer, singing and gesturing to the crowd. Singing lyrics that were... accurate.

The half-Annfyn didn't fight back as the Tiefling pushed her up against the wall, nor did she try to fight off his hand as it slowly crawled down her leg. Her heart began to pound so loudly in her chest that she was convinced he could hear it. Memories of that one night beneath the apple tree, with thousands of fireflies dancing in the pitch black sky, began to flood her mind. His warmth had been something she'd yearned for ever since; it had left her hungry, desiring more, and she'd never gotten it. Until now, and she knew it was done to hurt her.

Clove's eyes lowered as he kneeled on the ground, placing himself beneath her. All while singing about how to worship like a dog. It was a sight that made her scoff mentally, but all she could do physically was stare as her cheeks began to burn brighter and brighter, her breath becoming quicker and quicker.

But, as much as she wanted to scoff at the sight, she understood what he was saying.

She was frozen, leaning against the wall, her gaze never leaving his as he started to walk backward, completing the song. But those final words never reached her ears; instead, her mind was racing, panicking, and freaking out. The previous anger and sadness remained, but another hand full of emotions and thoughts had joined the already crowded mind.

Clove didn't move until the Tiefling finished singing a song about love, forbidden passion, and, above all, poison and sinning. The crowdendess in her mind gradually faded, making room for clearer thoughts. Thoughts that began to push her forward, fueled by a newfound motivation. One that wasn't built out of spite or a desire to hurt him the way he hurt her. Her heels tapped against the marble floor as she approached Altair, her gaze never leaving his to look at the crowd or acknowledge the fabric lady(@Wit) who, admittedly, played the piano incredibly well. No, none of them were important at the time. And she didn't stop walking until she was directly in front of him.

She lifted her chin into the air to get a better look at him, noticing just how drunk and high he was. But also the pain and anger she instilled in his eyes, all while reflecting that same pain in hers. After only a second or two of staring, the short half-Annfyn rose onto the tip of her toes and leaned against his ear. "I don't see myself as better than you, Altair... I don't put myself above you." She paused, her warm breath brushing against his skin. "But you are right. I tolerate an' forgive parts of you, but I do not accept them." Her hand reached for his shoulder, her fingers gently brushing over the skin next to his collarbone. "You will forever be a Sith, a soldier an' a butcher. An' I'll always be the obnoxious goodie two shoe." Because, just as she struggled to accept certain aspects of him, it was clear that he, too, struggled to accept certain aspects of her.

"Altair, I will always love you... I felt your pain when you were on Korriban, so I'm connected to you even through the Force. My heart will always remain in your hands. But I'll have to learn to accept you. Not just the black bird from Naboo, but the Sith from Dantooine. I understan' now. An' I'm done hurtin' you." She took her lips away from his ear and gently pressed them against his warm charcoal cheek. She could've said more and asked for one more chance with clearer words. But the intention was clear: she wanted one more chance, and if he gave her that chance, she'd try to be better. But there was also a finality; if he didn't give her that chance, she'd step out of his life and leave him be.

Beyond this all, deep down, she'd try to be better whether he gave her a last chance or not. After all, how could she build a facility surrounded by people she could only tolerate?

But it didn't matter for the time being; she wasn't going to force him to make a decision now. He was still drunk, high, and emotionally messy. It was better to just leave and let him enjoy the rest of his night, hoping that once he sobered up, he'd think about what she said. He had her number and she trusted that if he decided to give her a chance, he would contact her. "I'm sorry for ruinin' the night so far; I hope you can enjoy the rest of it. You know how to find me if you want to." Clove took a few steps back, her lips curled into a soft smile. Her lips parted to mouth a 'goodbye' before turning onto her heels.

The pain coursing through her body had gradually begun to fade. Confronting Altair, speaking her mind, and knowing she'd face either closure or inbound happiness... it made her feel content in the midst of the pain.

Clove took a deep breath and began to push her way through the yelling girls, who were now even angrier because she dared to kiss their dream man's cheek. But she ignored them, squeezing through the pits of soaked ladies until she was finally free.

The half-Annfyn felt her commlink vibrate by the time she finally returned to where Aadya(@Logan) used to stand, but where she was now missing. She opened her commlink with interest, looking at the message Aadya had sent her. Huh. She was texting her now, with no death threats included?! She blinked, surprised, before looking around the dance floor. Then she noticed the girl with the bouncy dark brown hair sitting alone at the bar with a drink. Clove turned off her commlink and approached Aadya, wrapping her arm around her shoulder. "I read your messages." She grinned at her. "I'm legit goin' to leave, can't stand to be here anymore after all this drama... But, I need to return to Imperial Space in a few days to look for a suitable planet for my second or third facility. If you want, we can catch up then?"

She gently squeezed Aadya's shoulder, and after Aadya responded, Clove lowered her arm again and began to make her way towards the entrance, where she was met with scowls, sadness, and happiness. And if no one stopped her, she'd leave, but this time it wasn't to run away.

---

​

/exitattempt
Tag @Sreeya ​

 

[Darth Draugr]

As the Dathomiri Zabrak sat by and let the medical staff work their wonders, he felt the stings slowly fade away. The pain dulling and diminishing to nothing after a while. The party had continued on as he sat there healing. The younger Sith all gathering together and performing a mix of beautiful and god awful karaoke. Whilst the others had casual conversation. So much drunken drama for a formal event.

"Alright Master Draugr you should be fine, if you keep these wrappings on the arm. You'll have some scarring on the wrist, but it will be fully functional." The medical professional treating him had said as they began cleaning up the area. "Finally." Draugr let out in a mumble under his breath. The Zabrak stood up and looked at the wrapped hand. It was another battle scar to carry with him as a reminder of a loss. Soon he will learn how to overcome these Matukai techniques and eventually be back on top.

The Zabrak's once white suit was now stained with his blood. It had been fairly dried by now and there would be no saving it. 'Fuck.. this was a rental..' He took notice of where Imani was. She seemed busy as of right now, speaking with Sol. The Kel'Dor was in good graces for the most part with Draugr. He reminded him of another Kel'Dor he used to know. Bir Vuul.. Though Sol had far more marbles in his head than Bir did. The Sith Master, being sober and not feeling like singing decided this was where he would go.

Walking up and meeting the two he would greet them once again, "Good evening.. again. I have gained another battle scar it seems." The Zabrak referred to the arm and then gave a scoffing chuckle. A slight shake of his head as he looked to the ceiling for only a moment and then his eyes back to Imani. She had looked beautiful as ever in the stained white suit, except she was lucky for it to have only been a drink. "Was yours a rental as well?"

@lizziie @Nevermourn

 

[Wodan]

Anger rose in the young man as he watched the Tiefling make his way off the stage. With a quick double tap he finished drumming letting Altair sing alone, it probably added to the impact of the Tiefling’s song but at that moment Wodan was just frustrated. He had watched this girl half destroy his brother and he was now chasing her across the dancefloor, even if it was to just be petty with his choice of song and lyrics Wodan was still pissed.

He had hoped the bottle of Rum and upbeat song would have distracted him long enough for the pointy eared floozy to make her welcome exit. But it was all just wishful thoughts, thinking the blockhead would let it lie he knew him too well. The flames on the drums slowly petered out as Jasnah decided she would be a ‘helpful’ back up to Altair’s singsong to Clove. He didn’t give her any recognition, or insight into what was happening. Altair had enough bimbo’s floating around him, he didn’t need another and Wodan wouldn’t help another get their claws into him. Not until he got whatever it was with Clove out of his system first. He definitely needed to have this chat with his friend once they all sobered up.

As the song continued to play on, Wodan picked up the near finished bottle of rum and took another few slugs of the drink. Before lighting another cigarette, leaning forward on the drum set he puffed away as he watched the interaction between the pair from between the symbols. If he was honest he was surprised by Clove’s reaction, he thought Altair would get a slap or just watch her throw another tantrum and storm off, instead she approached the man the look in her face nearly made Wodan vomit. What poison was she selling to Altair this time.

Eventually she backed away from him and made her exit. The harsh cigarette smoke had burnt the back of his throat slightly but he still made the effort to hock up enough phlegm to spit off to the side as she left.

“Alright bugger this emotional shit.” He said sitting up in the seat flicking his half smoked cigarette off to one side. Smacking his drum sticks together loud enough to get some attention he began playing a new song. “Altair if you don’t get up here I’ll start singing myself.” He threatened, although he doubted anyone past the stage would have heard him.

@Sreeya @LilyNion @Wit

 

[Sol Kenuk]

Sol thinks that the drama he experienced at the Academy was probably nor nearly the same that Imani had, but... well, that was hard to say, wasn't it? Sol's past as a Jedi meant that he had been required to work twice as hard virtually every day he dared to breathe. Even his fellow Acolytes at the time had been none too friendly to the Kel'dor, at least not until he had finally learned to stand his ground. Things had gotten better, but nonetheless, Sol had been subjected to his fair share of brutality. Whatever Imani had faced was likely a bit more akin to what they were witnessing tonight, petty drama and love triangles. Sol would have killed for a trade.

For a moment, the Tiefling motions toward the same waitress that Sol had been speaking to earlier. The Kel'dor passes the woman a small smile before his gaze flickers up toward Caer as Imani made her bet. Truthfully, Sol agreed. Wodan and Altair would probably last the night, but the Annfyn? He'd be passed out like a baby before long, or he'd die of liver failure, one of the two. Maybe both. He's taken aback by the boy who rushes past with a tray full of burritos. Really, they were handing out these? Honestly, the Kel'dor wouldn't be surprised if someone had bribed the man to hand them out. Or, perhaps burritos were just a customary snack at such a royal establishment. The ball had become a mess of chaos, in any case. Sol waves a talon to indicate that he didn't want the food, and watches as the man hurries off toward the stage as directed.

"That's going on someone's dress." Sol snorts with dry humor. The three drunks would be throwing the burritos at each other like some high school food fight. But no, rather, Altair seems a bit preoccupied with Clove. More relationship drama. The Kel'dor snorts, tears his eyes away to gaze back upon the stage. The drums were still on fire. The drummer still looked dead. The voice of Draugr is enough to rip the Champion's focus away from the madness for a few moments more. Sol peers at the Zabrak's hand, curious as to what the damage might have been, but it was wrapped well. The Kel'dor lingers for the moment, unless Imani and Draugr decided to run off and dance again. Who was he to stop a date? Especially if they got along well.

"I haven't been to many parties." Sol admits with sly grin, "This was certainly one way to break me into the whole idea of it. So much for a slow waltz to a bit of fancy music." He inclines his head toward the couple. Were they disappointed by the change, or was this just how Sith parties always turned out? "Three fights, two fires, and a whole lot of drunk lovebirds. I assume I should expect the same from the next gathering? Fancy or not." The Kel'dor raises a brow with quiet amusement. At least the drama hadn't ruined the affection between Draugr and Imani, as it had between Altair and his... well, many attachments. Sol was, perhaps, lucky that he didn't have anyone he truly loved or cared about.

@Scoobert @lizziie