Showtime! (Premiere of "KRASS"- The Epic Biodrama in holotheaters this weekend)

[Loco]

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for tuning in with us tonight. Check out the rest of the interview, only at CNN-on-the-holonet, and be sure to check out "Krass", the epic bio-holo on the rise, fall, and death of the late Senator, in holo-theatres and 4-D everywhere next week."

"Did I seem pretentious? I feel like I seemed pretentious... Come on TR-8R, hit me. Be honest. I can take it."

"Beep beep boop"

"Oh, stuff it. You wouldn't know pretentious if it bit your shiny metal ass."

Dreste Cometfire leaped lithely from the hover limo and into a riotous blur of flashing lights, screaming fans, and entertainment reporters of all shapes, colors, and sizes shouting questions in more languages than the interpreter drones could keep up with. The subtle and tasteful shininess of his dark, sharply cut suit reflected mesmerizing patterns of lights from the strobing LED's of the recorder-bots. The star fixed the crowd with a brilliant smile, his eyes flashing with humor and mischief, his hands waving, it seemed, at each and every man, woman, and indeterminate fleshy blob present. This was the big night. His night. And also the other guys night, he supposed.

KRASS

The over stylized lettering adorned every available surface- from the surrounding holo-billboards and the interview line back drop, to hats and shirts, to the slow moving sky-hook banner floating lazily past over head with spotlights swinging wildly beneath it, to the plastic cups and cheap novelties in the hands of the children present. The studio had gone all out on this one, he thought to himself. Marketing was everything nowadays. Even the invited attendees of tonight's event were carefully selected to heighten the profile. Krass' daughter, whatever her name was, the architect of his downfall, Lars Warren- that would have been a fun role to play too, but his co-star had done an alrightish job- and even a variety of Senators and Correllian planetary politicians of varying degrees of scumminess... Tonight, there was a place for everyone. Dres hoped Breezy was one of those people-creatures.

This was quiet a step up from the indie flicks he was known and idolized for. Not even his groundbreaking role as Hando Duo in Galaxy Wars had garnered this much attention (though his cult following for that one was incredible- he couldn't go a Rodian hour without a new convention invite rolling in). The production was finished. The die was cast. The cast was cast. They were mere days from opening weekend. Fate- and, of course, Dreste Cometfire's unparalleled acting chops- would now determine if KRASS would go down in history as an epic artistic masterpiece, or an overwrought dramatization of a power hungry monkey-lizard and his ignoble death.

For his part- that part being the star of the holo- The masterful imitator of the titular Senator Aren Krass himself... well, he was just here to look good, have a good time, and watch the bloody movie finally. To that end, he plodded gracefully down the long, plush red carpet, waving and smiling and waving and smiling and waving and smiling, dodging interviewers and winking seductively at particularly attractive humanoid fans.



@Prudence @Poop Fairy @Nor'baal @Outlander

#Neverforget #Krassgate

 

[Voren Makr]

To say he was a recluse would be somewhat unfair, for at events such as this, Voren Makr made an appearance. After all, the CNN group had chucked money at this blockbuster, hell, it had a bigger budget that that odd movie series about the kid with magic powers and a chip on his shoulder. Stepping out of his holo-limo (everything sounds better when it has the word holo in it. Ever tried holo-coffee? Divine.) Voren waved for the Cameras, and shook hands with a few other rich core world dwellers. Looking up at the large sign above, depicting in glorious technicolor the name of the show displayed this evening, he smiled.

An interesting few days of my life, he reminisced, far back to his life before the Senate, the Captain of the RSS Czerka a bastion of Industry, the master of the game of the Galaxy. Indeed, many on Corellia still hailed Voren as the 'Savior of the Nation', the entrepreneurial embodiment of the planets will to succeed in the wake of despotism, and Voren was honestly fine with that little title. Now happily occupying the grey mass of self-entitled twoddle that stood as the upper-strata of Galactic Society, the so-called 1% crowd, Voren was happily retired, sitting on a colossal nest egg, and heading up the Chairmanship of CNN.

Nice life if you can get it. Heading into the viewing, he saw....

...well, he saw this.

 

[Breezy Breezer]

It was time to make an entrance, and as the unwashed masses gathered around the fringes of the red-carpet, hoping to bask in the warmth of fame, that pleasant feeling which radiated from their idols, Breezy was going to make the mother of all entrances. His own Holo-Limo pulled up, bright gold (naturally), with fire-works shooting out the top.

Why? Fashion - that is why.

Music blared, dry-ice curled from underneath the doors, and a tail-coated dwarf ran up, some sort of Ewok-Creature, and opened the door, before offering himself as a step for the occupant. A delicate hand came out, clutching a thick, platinum, kyber-crystal topped cane, the crystal carved into the shape of a famous letter.

B​

The crowd went berserk as the man Rodian himself stepped out, crushing the suited Ewok in the process. Music blared, as he rose to his full height, his sequin studded Bantha hide jacket swaying in the wind, bright white Wampa fur boots sparkling in the flash lights of the dozens of journalists. At least twelve people fainted, and Breezy looked around - spotting a young Oliphant in the front row, an ''I Love you Breezy'' T-Shirt on.

He winked.

The Oliphants heart stopped, and she keeled over.

Nobody cared.

Walking in, stepping over the ex-fan, he strolled up the red-carpet and into the venue itself, stopping by the main door to turn to the fans. Tapping the cane on the ground once, the carpet before him caught fire, burning the letter 'B' into its surface. One-hundred million Credits well spent Breezy thought as he entered the viewing screen.

That's how it's done gents he thought to himself.

 

[Yum Kaboom]

At the side of the holo-limo was gripping a small ball of fur, a Yuzzum. No, he wasn't an illegal passenger. He just enjoyed travelling that way more. Holding onto the holo-limo with one hand and gripping his little staff with the other, silver-starred Yum Kaboom was invited to this premiere as well, and he couldn't have passed up to enjoy this experience with his new friend and big idol, Breezy Breezer.

His heart stopped for a second when they finally arrived to place. This is it. As Breezy made his appearance, so did Yum. He jumped atop of the holo-limo amongst the fireworks, warbling and showing off really sick moves. He was living a dream and he intended to enjoy it all the way through.

Jumping down from the vehicle, Yum followed Breezy while showing off a technique he had learnt recently called Jazz Hands. Energetic, moving quickly, it almost seemed that he was on fire. He poked the Oliphant girl a few times with his walking stick before jumping behind Breezy, he watched as the flames spread on the carpet. This pleased him. With a wide grin, he jumped around Breezy energetically as they went inside.

 

[Lars Warren]

This was one of the biggest things Lars had ever attended to. It was big, it was flashy - and it involved him. To be quite frank, Lars was surprised that CNN would ever support a movie that had anything positive to do with late Aren Krass. He was reminded again that as do times change, so do people's stances... and money are usually involved. Lars wasn't sure why he accepted the invitation. It wasn't wise thing to do from the Director of the most expansive underworld syndicate... mainly during these times, when the members fought among themselves and the price for his head was bigger than that of several criminal lords' combined. Nonetheless, it was a movie that involved him and Lars was a curious man.

As he arrived to the scene, no one noticed him. Everyone was either too shocked or too dead to notice him. He saw several fans lying on the ground and the carpet burning in the shape of the letter B. Lars grinned. Breezy must be here as well. It made sense, after all. Breezy was an all-known star, unlike Lars who appeared in newspaper twice before being forgotten. He was invited here just because his name appears in the movie, he guessed. Using the shocked silence to sneak into the viewing screen, Lars was glad that he was unknown. He hoped he would be after the movie, too.

 

[Loco]

Wow.

That is how it is done.

Thoroughly impressed by the entrance of his idol, his greatest hero, the reason he chose to live each day, Dres continued on into the venue. No sense hanging around outside. The crowd had practically exhausted themselves to death cheering for Breezy. Dres secretly hoped he could meed to reptile after the premiere- he couldn't do it now, of course, and risk coming across as too eager. He stepped gingerly over fallen fans in the wake of those already inside. Slowly, he made his way to his seat, dodging last minute interview requests and posing occasionally for shots that were likely to appear on CNN the next morning. This was big news. Everyone knew Krass. Many had watched him blasted to death on live Holo-net. His bio-holo-drama could only be a masterpiece.

Dres settled in. The room darkened. People sobbed softly.

And it began.

The opening credits rolled. Stylized lettering on a black back drop. No music.

First the director, Georgiano Lucasimo.

Then the star, Dreste Cometfire.

And then suddenly, KRASS, accompanied by a thunderous... noise. The crowd went wild with applause, but the noise faded as quickly as it had come.

Silence. Silence on the screen. Silence in the theater.

A slow fade into a black and white scene, the brightness muted. A close up on Senator Krass himself , looking young and full of mischief (Dres remembered the horrendous amount of makeup it had taken to get this right), sitting in Senator Viechelin's darkened office, not knowing the epic events to come that would make the entire Galaxy ponder the same thought that he was about to voice aloud...

Aren gave her a sly smile "Is that what you think, Senator Viechelin? That I joined for King and Country? Or did I join for the power that it brings me. Which is it? Am I a patriotic idiot? Or a power hungry sociopath?"

The screen faded to black again. The crowd went wild again.

 

[Breezy Breezer]

That was, beautiful! remarked the musician to himself as he rose to his feet and clapped his hands together with barely concealed enthusiasm. The way Krass had appealed to the audience, making one question whether he was the hero, the villain, or you was just majestic! Of all the movies he had seen in recent months this was an easy second to the 'Last King Of Ziost'.

The credits began to play, and the greatest part of the movie began. His part. Breezy knew that show business was a merciless game, and so when he had the option to write, perform and jangle to ending theme, he had jumped on it. Already it was the top trending single in the charts, the famous "Krass, by Krass." featuring a CGI version of Aren Krass, as the forlorn ironic dancer, slinking around to the tunes of Breezy.

A tear dropped down his face, containing more alcohol and drugs that was feasibly possible, as he watched his master piece. Turning, he fired his intern, the emotion clearly to much for Breezy to make logical decisions. The intern didn't even notice.

Sitting back down, he waved down the star of the show, and embraced him, pausing for a photo that would probably me caption and shared across the holonet.