Open Coruscant Open Mic at the Coruscant Cabaret

[Ro'vana]

The Raven's Cabaret was best described as a retro bar. The outside is nice and modern, with a flashing neon sign that indicates the entrance as well as labelling it "CABARET". The more "retro" side of things comes in the interior. Ro'vana's performing space was front and center, with tables surrounding the small stage. A metal spiral staircase was left of the stage, climbing up to her living quarters. The bar, restrooms, and food/drink storage were all towards the right side of the room. Two big, wooden doors separated the chaos of the bustling city streets from the calmness of the Cabaret. Like most of her performances, this has been in the works for months. This time, though, the thinking ahead wasn't because of a party booking or even a new performance hall being opened- it was so that people had time to prepare.

This was the first time Ro'vana had hosted an event that wasn't focused on her and her alone. She came up with the idea on a whim, reflecting back to her childhood. "If I had something like this when I was first starting out," she thought, typing up the plan on her datapad, "Those wasted minutes begging for performing slots could have been filled with, well, performing!" She had decided on an open-mic event- everyone was welcome and everyone could perform. Open all night and all day, giving loads of time to those who really need it. Ro'vana advertised it everywhere she could, commissioning artists to make posters, writers to draft out blog posts, etc. She made sure that news was spread far and wide over the 'Net, and made double sure that everyone knew that everyone was welcome. She even invited some managers that she knew had opening in their own personal performing spaces!

"There's no possible way this could backfire, right?"
She paced around her study the day before the event.
"The weirdos can't ruin it, right? It's just a fun way for people to get some traction!"
Ten hours until open-mic.
"I can't cancel it now... I'll just have to wait and see what happens."
There was already a crowd forming at the doors. Her bartenders and waiters bustled about, getting everything ready.

Ro'vana stepped down the metal staircase, glancing around her Cabaret. She approached the piano, and tapped on it to see if any last minute adjustments had to be tuned out.
The crowd outside grew louder.
The microphone stood in it's usual spot. And, for the first time, she won't be the one on it all night.
"Open the doors." Ro'vana said, glancing at the pretty waitress who just happened to be right by, "Let's get this show on the road."

 

[Alexios De'jaal]

​

Of the worlds Alexios had traveled to over the past few years, Coruscant had been his favorite place to unwind. It wasn't home, but the urban landscape was familiar enough. He could spend a hundred lifetimes going from club to bar to club and he wouldn't even be able to scratch the first level. Thankfully, an advert on the net caught his attention before he could spend an hour finding a place he could hang. Most wouldn't catch his attention, but it was the name attached that drew him in; "The Raven's Cabaret."

Blues hadn't been the first genre he'd picked up on when he'd started exploring music, but in recent years it had become the one he'd put most of his time and practice into. It was in no small part thanks to artists like the tattooed twi'lek that he'd picked up the bass in the first place. He didn't consider himself a master yet, but he'd performed before and the reactions had been more than cringing or obviously fake smiles, as his attempt on the drums a few months back had been. Was he a little nervous? Ofcourse; but this was all for fun. That's what it always was, and always would be.

The neon out front confirmed that he'd shown up at the right place, and the crowd outside showed that he wasn't the only one who'd gotten the memo. As the doors swung open, patrons and performers alike flooded inside, checked only by a singular bouncer. Alexios would stand out as being on the younger side, but upon flicking up his ID-- fake, but convincing at a glance-- he was waved in with the rest. The Brentaalan's eyes widened as he took in the interior design; the warm neon, the stage, it's piano and mic setup. It all put him in the mood to play.

On the stage, standing next to the microphone in question, was the woman who'd sent out the invite. He'd only seen the woman once-- on a single album cover he'd flicked through over Noisenebula. She looked a little different in person, so much so that it actually took him a few seconds for his mind to catch up with the fact that The Raven was standing in front of him. Slowly, a smile began to spread across his face from ear to ear, taking a few steps forward through the crowd. "Dia Chaírete, I came to play!" He called.

​

​

@moobuddy2424

 

[Mazeryl Xiron]

Through the crowd, some young man stepped forward, called forth that he had come to play. "Yet there you stand, playing nothing," a woman's teasing voice came over the former's. She didn't waste time announcing her desires and simply strolled forward to take the stage.

She might have been flanked by two aides but had told Kerrin and Errin to remain sitting on penalty of death. No, their governor walked alone, garbed shoulder to toe in black and red, hair tied back in a ponytail.

Maze acknowledged the host of this event with a nod, dipped like a bow just courteous enough, and made her way to the piano. She straightened her outfit while taking a seat, her expression void of emotion as she eased into the moments to come.

Truth be told, she had not prepared for this performance; Errin and Kerrin had beckoned her on. They held their sway when they did and their mistress found herself unable to refuse.

But what did she know of music? Only hours spent playing the piano at the behest of her father as she spent days doing little but study every topic under the roof and sky. Here I am. Time to play.

She doubted many if any had heard of it, wondering if its style as much as history was suitable for the setting, but in truth did not really care. But enough to provide some background. "Long ago on Karazak, there was the House of Selron. Their seat was the glorious city of Casaneer, nestled upon an isle, whose bright lights shone as rays all the way to her ray shields, in turn upon the sea."

Maze was taken back, not to those years that long preceded her own but to the memories of her father telling her the same story. "Casaneer's lights came to be known as the Weeping Stars, for their brilliance as much as the slaves who escaped to the city and were welcomed with open arms. Yet, House Selron had a rival: the House of Braithwane, a contender for the throne, cracking the whip on sentiments of anti-slavery."

She let that sit. Surely some at least knew of Karazak's own victory in abolishing slavery worldwide to become the member of the Independent Systems Consortium she was today.

"For this perceived treachery of tradition, the Braithwanes descended upon Casaneer. They drew out their bombardment for days until the city was reduced to rubble and much of that sunk into the ground to be swallowed by darkness."

Her fingers floated above the keys. She spoke simply, not slowly, but knew her audience expected a performance sooner rather than later. I'm here...but also there...back home...living it all over again...

"Casaneer's rays of light were turned against her as the rays of cannons rained down. That was not enough, though. House Braithwane made a song of it; a reminder of what happens to those who cross them and attempt to break the wheel, break the chain."

Maze shrugged, cracking a smile. "Yet, Karazak is free from the Braithwanes, slavery too, so their song lives on as a reminder of what happens to those who attempt to bind the chains. Here it is. I give you The Rays of Casaneer...such as they are." With that, her fingers struck the keys, and she began to play.

"And who are you, the proud lord said, that I must cloud my glow
Only a man on a distant throne, that's all the truth I know
To a throne so old and so dark and dead shine rays from weeping stars
And mine are strong of heart, my lord, a heart so strong it roars

And so he spoke, and so he spoke, that lord of Casaneer
But now the rays weep oer his hall with no one there to hear

Yes, now the rays weep oer his hall and not a soul to hear"

Maze stopped singing as the song ended, stopped playing as the piano gave out, and left the stage in silence. Whatever the reaction, she felt her lips twitch as though staving off a frown. A reminder of freedom? No, a reminder of freedom's cost. The song lives on. As long as it does, so do the Braithwanes, so does injustice, so does slavery.

She found her seat, found her brandy, while thinking these thoughts. Kerrin and Errin were the closest aides of the Governor of Karazak. Mazeryl Xiron made a mental note to command both to shred The Rays of Casaneer that it may never be sung or played again.


@moobuddy2424 @Tom

 

[Ro'vana]

Even though the doors had just opened, person upon person were piling in-- either see the performances or perform themselves. Ro'vana sat on a comfy (yet stylish) chair just to the right of the stage. She had painstakingly brought the chair down from her loft upstairs, resulting in just about half of her staff trying to make sure she doesn't break her neck falling down the spiral stairs. It was angled so that she had the perfect view of the stage, and enough room away from the masses so that she could silently enjoy the show.

As people piled in, she heard some shouts travel across the crowd and into her ears. Someone's cry of "I'm here to play!" and someone's catty response of "Yet there you stand, playing nothing,". The reply didn't seem to be of bad intent, but Ro'vana couldn't help but to laugh at how defeated the kid looked after the older woman chimed in. He looked to be no older than 17, so this must be a huge night for him. Ro'vana, after hearing their exchange, saw the older of the pair travel her way towards the stage. Upon getting closer, she did a small curtsy of respect towards Ro'vana, signaling that she would like to go on stage.

When the woman got up on stage, Ro'vana truly took in her beauty. She was very formal, and spoke with a voice that indicated to Ro'vana that it might be her job to use it a lot. Ro'vana was always fascinated by human beauty, envious of the fact that they have hair to braid and skin that doesn't distinguish them in a crowd. The story this woman told was one that she had read parts of before, on the HoloNet. The ISC's manifesto is widespread across the 'Net, but specific names and dates might get cut for the sake of character limits.

"I know I advertised this as an open mic," Ro'vana thought to herself, her impatience getting the best of her, "but I at least expected some music to be happening! What is this, poetry night?" It might be insensitive, sure, to ignore the winding tale of finding freedom and independence. But, Ro'vana wanted to hear music! Just as she was about to stand up to chastise the woman, the keys on the piano gave a soft start.

Music flooded Ro'vana's ears, wonderful music that told a tale of sorrow, of happiness, of war. "Now this," Ro'vana smirked, "is how you tell a story!" The keys on her Grand pounded on, as well as her voice, splattering the room with the paint that colors song. The volume rises, and the tempo increases--

And then it's over. That wonderful moment filled with music is done, now forever gone. Ro'vana is the first to stand in the silent room, clapping like there's no tomorrow. The crowd gathered roared with applause and praise as the woman silently stepped down from the stage and to the table where two others already sat, with drink. Ro'vana remained standing, allowing the excitement to die down before speaking.

"Now that was a performance, my dear. Let's keep this night rolling! Come on up, don't be shy! Who's next?"

@Die Shize @Tom

 

[Alexios De'jaal]

​

The teasing words of the older woman surprised him, attention turning to her as she made her way onto the stage. "Some of us are quicker than others." He cooed, recovering from his surprise and answering in as playful a tone as he could muster. Had he... seen her somewhere before? Perhaps at some social function his mother had dragged him to, that'd make sense. Alexios didn't spend much time thinking on it, as shortly after her climb up, she began to tell a story.

It was relatively short, at least compared to some of the tales he'd been told as a child. There had been so many afternoons spent at the concert halls, watching tales woven into song, either by performers on the Kithara, or those wrapped in the purple shawls and golden masks of Pantomime. That, ofcourse, wasn't the kind of performance he or any of them had come for tonight, so the older woman's decision to open up with a historical epic was... well, bold. As she reached the Piano, he braced himself for the inevitable heckling that was bound to follow.

And yet, by the end, rather than booing or quiet murmuring, was screaming, and louder than any was the acolyte. Damn if it were out of place or not; the woman's fingering on the piano was perfect, her singing was perfect, and the way she'd told the story? Perfect. "téle, téle!" He cried, "PERFECT!" He shouted louder, raising his hands in applause. He'd come with high expectations, and it seemed that they were being fulfilled thus far.

As Ro'vana called for the next performance, Alex would, without hesitation, climb up-- along with two other performers. "Oop." He whispered, glancing from side to side. One, an older male togruta carrying what looked to be a cello, and what seemed to be his partner or friend; who had what looked like a case for a bass. His brows rose for a moment as he looked at the two, an idea coming to the forefront of his mind as he stood there. "Seems we have a band." He teased, making his way to a stool and sitting down, dragging two others out.

The two other musicians glanced at each other, shrugged, and sat near him. "I think I'll kick us off; there's one I think we can put together, and I think it'll sound quite nice." He declared. The two older musicians glanced at each other again, obviously a bit skeptical-- but as Alexios pulled out his bass, giving it a quick tune, they'd quickly pull out their own instruments. For about a minute the band prepared, the club mingling around them as they waited in anticipation.

Finally, the teenager lowered the mic meant for a standing singer down to his strings; and he began to strum.

The bass guitar, while not perfect for the opening part, still managed to capture the proper tune and sound of the song's opener. It took only a few seconds of fingering for the other two musicians to recognize the song, the togruta smirking at the Mirallian woman, who began to play alongside the boy. He'd immediately transition to a higher octave, hitting the part more suited for his instrument while she managed to take the lead in the opener. It was a few more measures in that he really began to play.

Shortly after, the cello entered the performance, and the three would slip into a full melody. Glancing around at the audience and the stage, Alex would spot a hollow box just a meter away. When the three hit the crescendo, he allowed his fingering to slip into the background, reaching over and pulling the box to him. As his part was drowned out by the bass and cello, he refocused on the percussion element with the box, which, shockingly, actually proved to be a half decent box-drum.

He slipped between the two "instruments" through the course of the song, and by the end, as they slowly faded out, he was left completely satisfied with himself. Damn what the audience thought; his performance was good, and he wouldn't hear otherwise.

​

​

@moobuddy2424

 

[Daria Hel]

There was a sense of awe in the room as the soft sounds of the piano subsided. At a moment's notice, it was replaced by loud cheers as eager listeners rose from their seats in a sign of respect. It was an odd assemble, this crowd. Men and women from all stations of life, only connected in their love for these prodigious sounds, coming together to celebrate their arts. They were perched together in an unlikely setting, a stylish new small establishment, one that had good critiques on the streets.

Now, of course, Daria would never have been allowed in here on an ordinary night. A cretin of the lowest levels, she had no money to spend in a place like this and no skill to show off on the stage. Even her attire did not fit. She wore her best pair, a black long-sleeved shirt, dark trousers and a bag fitting somewhat to the rest, yet was underdressed compared to most listeners present. Yet on an open night like today, she treasured the chance to attend, and equally what she heard. During applause like this, no one else caught the sound of credits tumbling into her bag.

Benign chatter began to replace the storming applause as Daria weighed what little she had gotten from the first purse. It was not too little, yet she had to be careful enough. Dim lights and ambient music may get down one's guard, but there were a lot of eyes in here, and Daria needed none of those on her own. Walking towards the stage, where more people had gathered, she did not try and listen to the host's small remark, "Now this is how you tell a story!" and hardly noticed the new bands ascend onto the stage. A calming song filled the room as conversations began to subside. Looking for prey, the young thief walked through the tables, looking for an easily reached wallet.

Her exertions had not amounted to much. Sadly it seemed aspiring instrumentalists often had few credits at hand, and some fish in here were just too big to try and pocket. She did not desire to be caught with her hand inside the governor's cloak for sure. She would have to find a more profitable procedure.

As the room once more filled with the cacophony of cheers and clapping, an increasingly frustrated Daria permitted herself to glance to the stage. There she found hope once more that she might still get out of the location with enough credits to justify the hassle. Hopefully, even before any of her few victims came into the ignominy of trying to pay for their drinks. The lead player of the current band was in the process of stashing away a rather valuable looking bass guitar away, and sure enough, a decent weight in the pocket of his looser jacket seemed to betray something easily accessible.

As the young musician left the stage, she approached him with a wide smile. He seemed a good five years younger than her at the least, and with a bit of luck, just the unease of being approached by an elder girl would have him somewhat of his game. "You are playing extraordinarily well," She said with a charming smile. "Say, I couldn't have heard you play here before, could I?" Playfully bumping him against the shoulder, while looking him coyly in the eye, she tried to distract the young bassist from what her other hand was doing in his pocket. Sadly for her, she had no clue what otherworldy senses the young man before her possessed, and as his wallet left his jacket, she hardly suspected he could know.

@Tom

 

[Ro'vana]

"I should have done this way sooner" Ro'vana mused, clapping along with the audience, "This has brought in tons! I won't have to book odd performances for the next year or so if the night continues going like this... I'll be rich!" The bar was active, the donation box at the front was getting heavier and heavier as more wandered in, and her staff were getting tipped like crazy. Her eyes wandered the cabaret as the last set wrapped up their time on stage. "There are definitely some odd ones here," She chuckled to herself, noticing someone in what seemed to be all-black streetwear and a bulky bag, "It's good that I can do something for the locals." The "local" in question was making their way through the crowd, seemingly touching the chairs along her way. Pushing her forward?

"She's not touching the chairs." Ro'vana said, standing up quickly from her comfortable seat, "She's sticking her hands in the purses slung against them!" Ro'vana was no stranger to thievery- after all, she grew up in a place where stealing from the customers was usually how her mom got her tips. But, this is different. This isn't a case of a Burlesque performer getting screwed on her pay, it's a case of her own patrons not being able to afford a ride home. Once the girl approached the boy who just performed, Ro'vana's suspicions were confirmed. Her keen eyes saw the slight nod her head did to his pockets, and then to his shiny bass guitar. This poor boy was going to get swindled out of all of his money. Ro'vana knew what she had to do, but hoped it didn't distract the performers getting ready to go onstage next.

"Hey, bass boy!" The Twi'lek shouted, making her way towards the thief and the teen, "You did a nice job up there, darling! How long have you been playing?"

@ThisIsHowLibertyDies @Tom

 

[Alexios De'jaal]

​

The afterglow of the performance hung in the air as the instruments fell silent, eclipsed in volume by the applause from the audience. It was clear that they'd put on a good show, and Alex couldn't help but indulge in a bit of superbia as he bowed his head. Turning to the others, he'd find them beginning to box up their instruments, and so he chose to do the same. He was still in the mood to play, but hogging the stage would become boring for both the audience and the performers themselves. That wouldn't stop him from playing later, provided he could find suitable partners once more.

After chatting up the other two musicians and grabbing their contacts, the boy finally descended from the stage. A number of people hollered and cheered as he came down, raising glasses or offering drinks. He refused the tips, as he had more than enough to keep from thirst for tonight. Besides, as his mother so often pointed out, "It is no place for a son of De'jaal to play for coin like a street performer."

He'd scarcely made it three meters from the stage when a girl, only slightly shorter than his already diminutive figure stepped before him. He'd blink a few times as she began to speak, caught offguard by the sudden entrance by an obviously older girl. She couldn't have been more than a year younger than his sister in law, and the similarities didn't end there, having those same angular features and pale skin that the Tannaras' had been lauded for over the past 6,000 years. There was enough different about her for her to not look so familiar that it creeped him out though, the most striking being the odd shade of green in the girl's eyes.

That didn't mean his usually carefree and relaxed demeanor survived being approached by a pretty girl after a performance though. Any witty joke, inspired quote or nonchalant greeting was trapped in his throat as she sauntered over, a smile plastered on her lips before she casually bumped his shoulder. It didn't last forever though, as he'd shake his head and take a deep breathe. "I... uh, no, haven't swung by before." He answered, hoping the low light would hide the hint of a blush that bled through his cheeks.

He tried his best to think of something else to say, glancing down for a moment-- just a moment-- and there he saw the girl's other hand, grasping his very, very heavy wallet. Brown eyes shot wide open, and he barely let out a "Hey--" before none other than The Raven herself descended on them. He only paid one of his favorite artists a passing glance, as he didn't dare take his eyes off the woman with his wallet in his hand. Looking her in the eye, he gripped her wrists, took his wallet back, and shoved it in the pocket of his pants.

Than, like that, the icy expression and deathly glare he wore melted away as the tattoo'ed twi'lek arrived. "Go Gratiastos, Corvus." He answered, bowing his head. "...that means thanks, raven." He clarified, transitioning from the ultraformal greeting in Old Brentaalan to the casual, relaxed persona he fell into anywhere that wasn't A Sith academy or diplomatic mission. To answer your question, about... four years? I started with guitar and moved from there; found I like this a lot more." He explained, smirking a little.

"But your words are high praise; they're coming from the best blues artist this century." He'd add, the compliment being as genuine as could be. "I'd be lying if I said listening to a couple of your albums on repeat when I should've been studying didn't encourage me to practice on this." He'd go on, patting his bass' case for added effect.

​

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@moobuddy2424

 

[Daria Hel]

The boy was easy prey as he stood before her, dazzled by her forthcoming advance. She almost pitied him, yet her smile remained charming and warm. His wallet was heavy, just enough to make her fear he'd notice the lack of weight in his pockets. Yet luck seemed to favour her, as he was merely searching for words, not his credits, as she slowly removed the moneybag from his jacket.

Or so she had thought. Yet that was soon to change. She could hardly notice the boys glance downwards before it had gone awry. Things were progressing too fast for her to keep track of the exact order. His eyes widened in sudden realisation, only matched by her own fright as someone called out to them. Before she could even try and react, he had clasped her wrist in an iron grip, as eyes blazing with hate stared down upon her.

It was not the first time a victim caught her with her hands in his pockets, yet as her skill had increased over the last years, it had become more and more seldom. Yet it was not her failure that froze her; it was his eyes. His glare reeked of hate and shook her to her core. His anger at her radiated from him, and she felt entrapped by his hatred. The boy was not much larger than her, maybe a hand's width or less. Yet, as he looked down into her eyes, she felt as if he was significantly taller, almost towering over her. And as she stood frozen before him, she only wondered how she could have considered this, this thing "easy prey".

As he removed his hand from her wrist, a cold feeling remained, and she stumbled a step back, almost instinctively. Recovering from the shock, she had missed most of the words the newly arrived Twi'lek and her near victim had exchanged. The boy had shrunk back to his former self, a monster no longer. Speaking about her albums, wait? Oh! The Twi'Leks albums, he was nonchalantly patting his bass' case.

Something in her mind begged her to run, run and hide before this all turned even worse, but enough of her rational self remained to remind her of the bouncer out front, the boy before her, and the literal room full of people that would probably notice her flight, especially now that many from adjacent tables were looking at them. Whoever the pink-skinned lady was, she did draw a lot of attention. As she composed herself, straightening shoulders and smoothing her expression, a dark thought popped into her head: Wasn't this the Twi'lek that announced all the band changes? Darn, she is the one hosting this whole thing!

She still wanted to remove herself, yet with both the boy and the alien keeping an eye on her, she knew it would probably only escalate things further. They sure weren't done with the whole affair yet. And at least this, well, what did the boy say? Oh right, at least this blues artist kept him tranquil. So maybe standing here with the two of them was not as bad after all.

Putting up a brave front, she decided that if she was, to remain, she would at least involve herself in the discussion and not just meekly wait for them to drag her into some antechamber or backroom. Swallowing down the rest of her paralysis, she looked up to the much larger woman and broke her silence: "Any chance we'll hear you play tonight as well? Or is this strictly for new talents?"

@Tom @moobuddy2424

 

[Ro'vana]

Ro'vana knew that the boy was keen to the thief's tricks as much as she was. "Why, thank you! Your loyal listening and kind words make me very proud to be here tonight." She gave the boy a warm smile, happy that a new generation of musicians is being inspired by her. "And did you bring a friend with you, my dear?" Ro'vana chimed, turning to look at the thief. She looked to be deep in thought- probably ruminating over her failed mission.

"Any chance we'll hear you play tonight as well? Or is this strictly for new talents?"
"Well, we'll just have to see about that, now, won't we?"

Ro'vana's full attention was on the girl now. The cabaret around her buzzed with activity- the sounds of someone warming themselves up on the piano, clinking of drinks, waiters moving around- yet her ears were fine tuned into the jingaling in the girl's pockets. "Now, did you come here tonight to hear some music? Or just to make some quick cash?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Ro'vana could swear she saw the boy she just talked to jolt a bit. Was she too direct? It didn't matter- her Cabaret, her rules. She felt bad for the girl, though. She obviously was smart enough to come here tonight of all nights, so she had to have some sort of brains up there. "You have so much potential," The Twi'lek thought, her face becoming less and less smug, "I know how hard it is to dig out of the underground."

Ro'vana turned to the boy, giving him another word of thanks. "Why don't you go find a seat and relax? Your performance must have worn you out a bit." Turning away from the boy, Ro'vana looked around at her space, trying to find some faces that she thought were worthy. Scanning to the corner, she found it- Bingo. Now going back to face the thief, she got closer so that she could whisper. "You see that man over there?" Ro'vana whispered,slightly raising her hand to point him out, but not too much so that it seems suspicious, "He comes here just about every week. He always requests sappy love songs from me, and I always turn him down." She turns to gance into her eyes, speaking frankly. "He bothers my staff, too. Always asking for expensive drinks that we don't carry. Runs some kind of business in the nice park of town, so expects the royal treatment." Ro'vana returned to standing up straight, noticing the next group is ready to perform on stage. Making her way back to her chair, she leaves one last comment for the thief.

"It would be such a shame if he stopped coming here because of a bad experience. Especially if that experience involves the money he always carries around in his satchel..."

{ @Tom @ThisIsHowLibertyDies }

 

[Alexios De'jaal]

​

The musicians words practically melted the young boy's heart, lips curling up into a wide, genuine smile. This wasn't the first time he'd met a performer he'd admired; backstage VIP passes were easy to come by when your mother owned the stage. But out of all the meetings with Kithara concertos, choir groups, organ players or pantomime performers, it had never been they who had been praising his music. Even if they did, it would most definitely be motivated by a desire to please the son of their host.

But Ro'vana?

She'd never played in their concert halls. She had only ever existed on holorecordings and streaming apps on his commlink. Yet the first time he'd met the woman who'd got him into bass, he was playing on her stage, getting praise for his performance. He'd probably be telling his grandnephews and nieces about this when his hair finally started to go gray. "...I can't think of a line poetic enough to describe how awesome this is." He'd say, giggling like an idiot.

Than, Ro'vana brought up the girl.

Immediately, that soft, boyish expression of his hardened to stone as he turned to look at the would be pickpocket. "Friend" was as far from how he'd describe this girl as a word could be. What was it his mother called people like this... "miserable profligates" this, "on a cross" that. He'd never watched any of her ranting speeches in the assemblyhalls, but he knew firsthand that his mother had an extreme distaste for those who broke the law. Well, non-nobles that broke the law.

It had filtered down to him, and before him Alex didn't see a woman-- he saw a thing, a miserable thing that had thought in it's thing head that it could touch him-- steal from him. Yet as much as he wanted to cast her down, turn her over to Ro'vana and watch as she was hauled out... the only thing that could be worse than the fact that this thing had tried stealing from him, was the notion that he could be this vulnerable. So, in response to Ro'vana's question, he answered, "Oh, yes; old friends, actually." He said, voice dry as he finally released the girl's hand.

With that, Alex would give Ro'vana a nod, flash a smile, and head over to the bar. He... needed a drink.

​

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@moobuddy2424 @ThisIsHowLibertyDies