Wedding After Party

[Andraste OG]

A wedding without a single drop of alcohol.

To say that Andraste was livid would be an understatement. The Empress remained quiet as her expression went from blank to a noticeable scowl. The entire process had taken ages, and she stood expecting there to be refreshments fitting of someone of her caliber. Yet that moment never came. For all intents and purposes, the rest of the Sith Council parted ways after the wedding ceremony and the exchange of vows.

She briefly recalled her own marriage, over a decade prior. The ceremony had been dull, and it was brimming with a sense of importance, with hushed whispers of Sith elders and dark figures that no longer meant anything to her. Her husband, the Emperor, had presented her with an amethyst jewel imbued with Sith magic. The amulet hung around her neck to this day, even though his bones had long since rotted away since she took his life. A part of his energy always remained with her through the gem.

The Empress had invited those still willing to her quarters, a grand hall that opened to a beautiful courtyard. There was an infinity pool that overlooked a broad lake. She had an affinity of building escapes for herself on various planets within the Imperium. The Empress had a habit of always being on travel, popping in every so often for diplomatic purposes. Since her outburst on HoloNet, she had more or less avoided the public, hoping to let the unease die before going out again. It would only be a matter of time before the public found something new to complain about.

She had a bottle of wine in her hand, standing near the plants and décor that made up the grand hall. There were lounges lining both sides, creating a pristine atmosphere of regality. Of course, none of this was her concern, as she was determined to partake in drinking. She popped opened the wine, pouring herself a glass and sipping the red liquid.

“A party without wine is not a party at all. I wish the newlyweds the very best, but I’ll be damned if they stop me from drinking…”

With that, Andraste finished her first glass of wine, looking around at all the bottles of liquor that dotted the hall. Today would be a great or terrible night.

 

[GABA]

Ebberla was still picking wookiee hair from her dress, she never thought someone could shed so much! It reminded her much of a dog and the curious thought if wookiees enjoyed belly scratches drifted into mind. The Corellian shrugged to herself and twisted the cap off the bottle of Corellian whiskey she had picked up from her quarters before heading over to Andraste's living quarters. Ebb took a swig and swallowed hard, recalling the last time she was in Andraste's presence; she still got shivers up and down her body, though she felt no fear, just, "...awkward..." she whispered to herself.

Though, Ebb would admit, she was surprise the woman was hosting an after party for the council. She had been somewhat of a recluse ever since her last holo-appearance, though she couldn't blame her, she would keep to herself until things have quieted. Ebb yawned, feeling the need for a nap from the ceremony, who would have ever thought sitting around and listening to gag-worthy exchanges would make one want to sleep.

The Inquisitor entered the quarters, the guards never flinching as the Corellian woman entered, she could feel the Empress' presence resonate as she let herself inside, mildly impressed by the decor, it was rather peaceful, light, unlike the dull greys that seemed to occupy most of the Imperium's color scheme.

"At least someone on this council is sensible to have a proper party." Ebberla greeted and walked over to the wine glasses and filling it properly with her whiskey. She was ready to let loose, but paused in her step, trying to listen carefully, "We're missing music...."

 

[Darth Maleficar]

A match made in Hell, Sin'ryk thought duly; were it any other wedding, it would not have been chafing at all. However, witnessing her getting her 'happy ending' for lack of a better choice of words had brought a bitter taste to his mouth. Let her enjoy it, thought the High Arcanist, let her savour whatever she has before she moulders away with the passage of time. In the meantime, the Red Sith decided it would be prudent to extract some nuance of pleasure from this situation...even there is a possibility of not being able to remember it in due time. In this circumstance, he saw fit to make an adjustment to his appearance, seeing as the bride and groom weren't here for him to outshine; this change manifested in the form of a diadem of golden wings that held the bulk of his hair at bay. The second change came with him bringing a few bottles of his own drinks to accentuate the party; firstly out of the desire for his fellow wedding guests to enjoy...secondly for him to enjoy their paranoia at the prospect of being poisoned. Being the Imperium's master poisoner tends to create a reputation for an individual; Sin'ryk was an artificer of the vilest necrolixirs, but he wasn't addicted to testing his creations. Still, the aforementioned amusement would more than make up for it.

Soon enough, the High Arcanist would arrive at the venue of this after party; clutching two ornate bottles of oiraksh, Sin'ryk stopped to greet the Empress.

"Hail and well met your Imperial Majesty, tis a fine party you have arranged here." A mischievous grin then manifested upon his face, his tendrils twitching slightly at his thoughts. "And I brought a few vintage drinks of my own to supplement the vast collection you have here; worry not, the only thing you have to worry about is if the fermentation of the milk went awry and possibly the slight spicy kick to it."

 

[Clayton]

Rook was conflicted. On one hand, going to Geist's afterparty mean the possibility of an illusionary sex dungeon. Just which part was illusionary was not something he wanted to think about. On the other, snubbing Andraste's invitation could be just as bad, if not worse. So instead he ordered a kale salad with fair-trade onions (which was a thing, apparently, what will hipsters think of next?) delivered to Geist's...party/psychotropic hallucination extravaganza. Instead of going to eat said awful delivery idea, he went to Andraste's party with a bottle of Kshyyy Clarion. It was called Clarion both for the fact that it was fermented and aged in clarions (the shape lended to an usually strong distillation) and the fact that non-wookiees tended to go "hoooooooo!" upon their first sip.

His Aethersprite landed with a soft whump, a little harder than intended, and the large wookiee exited cautiously. He had never personally met the Empress. Given her last appearance/slaughter he was somewhat uneasy, but if she was normal enough to unwind with alcohol, maybe there wasn't much to be concerned about. He spotted a rather familiar woman, and given his spot on the dark council he knew exactly who she was. "Didn't we fight on Naboo a while back?" he asked as he strolled up, handing the bottle to a much smaller servant to be taken care of. Meaning, opened and poured into a glass.

 

[Andraste OG]

“You’re right.”


She knew something was missing, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She loved the sounds of the infinity pool and the waterfalls, but the whole point of this was to liven up a rather bland affair. Andraste paused to regard Ebberla. The woman had come a long way since Andraste had last engaged with her before she became a part of the council. Back then, she had been a foolish Jedi that she had stripped from all her powers.


Andraste had assigned Darth Silentius, her late husband’s watchdog to Ebberla. That was the last she had seen him, the potentially threatening Sith Lord loose out in the galaxy. She had little doubt that he went over to the Jedi. What, then, did he make of Ebberla coming into the same Imperium he ran from?


She offered Ebberla a grin, raising her glass. Let bygones and bygones. There was no use in keeping bad blood, when she could sense that the end to the war would be coming sooner than later. The push against the Imperium was coming from all sides. They were spread thin, and she knew this. It would only be a matter of time before her era comes to an end. Why not enjoy until then?


Andraste switched on some music, which was set to classical music. With a grimace, she quickly shuffled things around till something with a little bit more beat came on. Music was something Andraste had always admired ever since she was a child. She couldn’t remember the last time she simply listened to it for enjoyment instead of proper ambiance music.


Almost immediately, the atmosphere became more lighthearted. Imperial guards were taken aback at the display, gawking openly at their Empress who was acting quite out of character. Andraste paid this no heed, turning her attention to her High Arcanist.


“Oh cut the poodoo. I’m Andraste. No more of this Imperial Majesty bullshit. It’s exhausting.”


She snatched one of the bottles from his hands and took a swig. For a moment she looked as if she enjoyed it, but almost immediately she spat it out, grimacing.


“Good grief..that tastes like horse piss. I’d keep brewing as a side hobby…”


Andraste wiped off her mouth and turned to regard the wookiee. She had never seen him this up close, and silently pondered what life was like to be covered in thick fur. Did he shower? A thousand other thoughts filled her mind and she smiled at him as if he were an old friend. Yeah, sure. She went back to her wine, now drinking straight from a bottle.


“I think this should be a pre-gaming. I wouldn’t mind wandering out to some seedy district. Just because we’re the Sith Council doesn’t mean we all have to have lightsabers up our asses.”


She raised her eyebrows at her own comment. Since when did the old Andraste peek through so prominently?

 

[Clayton]

Rook cracked his neck, in all honesty he had never viewed Andraste as human. "Could be fun. I don't think I've ever been in a bar fight before." Now this explosively tempered Empress was acting all normal with music and wine and not turning people's organs inside out when they gawked at her. How odd. He grinned a wolfish grin and took a glass of the freshly poured Clarion. "Try this stuff instead of the rotgut the creepy Sith made." he knocked back the shot, liquid trickled down his throat like fire with a woody spice.

Alcohol went with his breath as he exhaled. Rook was simply, well, gigantic. It took a fair amount to affect him. He looked down at the tiny (compared to himself) Andraste. Which begged a question, unsettling smile aside. "Andraste.." god that was so weird to call her directly by first name, "how much can you drink, anyway?" the idea of the council having to carry or support a massively drunken, staggering Andraste had occurred to him and it was hilarious. Not that he'd readily give voice to the idea, not yet at least.

 

[Darth Maleficar]

The Red Sith was somewhat surprised that the Empress had seemed so...lax; it was almost as if it were a completely different being that stood before him, not the Dark Side behemoth that ravaged Coruscant. However, he wasn't surprised that she didn't exactly like the oiraksh; spiced, fermented Tuk'ata milk definitely wasn't for everyone. Such a thing brought a smile to Sin'ryk's face; that not even the most powerful Force-Sensitive in existence could stomach a tribal beverage. Taking the bottle back, he was about to reveal how the drink came into being, Darth Wakhairihia had just arrived bearing a drink of his own. It definitely seemed to please Andraste's taste buds, and the High Arcanist chuckled slightly at being referred to as creepy; it was very clear that his reputation had become cemented. After the Wookiee had vocalised his question, Sin'ryk saw fit to chug down some of the oiraksh; he breathed a sigh of delight as the spiced deluge crept down his throat. He then proceeded to speak.

"Well my dear Andraste, oiraksh isn't for everyone...and I wouldn't exactly say it was brewed." Another mischievous grin manifested upon his face. "All one need do is leave a sack of Tuk'ata milk to ferment in the desert sun for a month; strain it from the curds, boil it to rid it of microbes and you have yourself a drink fit for barbarians such as myself." The last words were somewhat directed at his fellow Dark Councillor, containing a simple implication; too soft to drink a tribesman's drink? Has your office made you soft Wookie? The thought held no malice, merely mischief, for the High Arcanist enjoyed toying with people; making them do that which they'd normally avoid doing. Still he then returned his attention to the Empress and continued to speak.

"You should pay another visit my dear, the pleasures I have within my household are simply to die for."

 

[Andraste OG]

Andraste happily took the shot offered to her by Rook. It was a nice chaser to the abomination offered by Sin’Ryk. Truth be told, he was a little creepy. She no doubt was creepy herself, but he was on a whole other level. Perhaps the only one to out-creep them both would be Geist. To this day, nobody understood that man. He was more of a mystery than her. At least she had been profiled as a psycho bitch, an act she had no qualms with keeping up.


Upon being asked how much she could drink, Andraste paused.


“Erm.. well I’m perhaps an inch over 5 foot tall. I think I weigh around 98 pounds. You can do the math.”


With a big grin, she took another shot. The wookiee was looking more and more bearish, and it was moderately terrifying. As Sin mentioned her visiting again, she remembered the strange oiled up men and eerie lighting. Andraste blinked quietly.


“Well, I think I’ll have to have a lot more drinks before that happens again.”


Andraste started slowly bobbing to the music, almost tripping over her dress.


“So um..who’s okay to fly a ship?”


She hiccupped, glancing over to where Ebberla was. Had the woman passed out?

 

[Clayton]

So, not much then. Rook shrugged at Andraste's inquiry. "I suppose I can. Where are we going?" he snatched the wine cork from a side table and chucked it at Ebberla, aiming at her forehead. "Quit spacing out," He blinked bearishly, this was turning out to be a really bizarre afterparty. "Seriously, Ebberla." he turned and waved for the rest to follow him. "Might be a bit cramped in the ship with everyone in it. It's got a bunk, but definitely not a Derriphan."

 

[GABA]

Ebberla had helped herself to several glasses of wine and alcohol, minding herself as she poured glass after glass while making her way around the room. For a moment she felt her eyes go crossed as someone suggested a ship.

"The six foot dog will drive..." Ebb's words were slurring, she placed a fist on her hip, "I can't believe I am going to let the dog drive."

The wine cork hit her forehead, "The dog jusss tosse-da hiz cort at me...I'm sure there is a prophecy about that in the Jedi artives some where...hehe..." she giggled to herself and tipped her glass. She hooked an arm around Rook's arm.

"Space dog, lettus go where no man haz gone be-or!"

 

[Andraste OG]

“Yes, Chewie, let’s go!”


Andraste laughed. It was strange. No one within the confines of these halls had ever heard her laugh before. She surprised herself, hiccupping in shock. Her yellow eyes were wide with wonder for a moment.


“Chewie, please don’t get us all killed. I don’t want an anti climactic ending.”


She took swigs of more alcohol. As if Sin weren’t creepy enough, now she saw doubles of him. Shaking her head rapidly to get the horrifying image out of her head, she stumbled towards the door. With sloppy Force work, she slammed the doors open, sending a few guards flying.


“Whooooops..”


She coughed to hide laughter, waving her hand in apology as she stumbled out of the room towards a nearby hangar. She was seeing doubles of the ship. Andraste walked towards the entrance pounding on the door.


“Come onnnnn let us innnnn.”


Nothing happened.


“I command you to open, door!”


She frowned when nothing happened, having temporarily forgotten how to open doors. Andraste blinked for a few seconds before slamming on a terminal that finally opened the door with a snap-hiss. She turned to her revered Sith Council, chuckling nervously.


“I meant to do that.”


She entered the ship, plopping down on the first seat with an entire bottle to herself. It’s times like these when she wished her boy toy Royston were around. She closed her eyes and sighed.


“All right, Rook, let’s go. Take us to the scummiest place you know.”


With a look of mild dread, she fasted her seatbelt.

 

[Clayton]

Rook raised an eyebrow, he was very surprised at how quickly alcohol affected Andraste. "If you need to puke, Sisk Renelo's helmet is in the back." He settled himself into the pilots seat, made sure the door was closed, everyone was aboard, then skipped the pre-flight entirely. "Hold on to your butts," he growled, rocketing the fighter off the ground. Half a minute later he had exceeded the speed of sound and was screaming out of the planet's atmosphere. He checked the navicomp, plugged in an address, then tilted the nose of the craft back down to the planet.

There was nothing like getting to a destination via sub-orbital maneuver. Flames licked the air as the reentry speed increased. A flashing light on the display was dutifully ignored by Rook. He swerved suddenly to the side, flipping the craft over in a wide loop to avoid a freighter. "LEARN HOW TO FLY YOU INBRED TATOOINE FRACK!" he roared at the pilot now kilometers in the distance. He pulled up hard as the ground rapidly approached. A mansion loomed ahead and Rook cursed. They had gotten here a little too soon. He applied every bit of braking power the craft had, even touching down on a well-manicured lawn. Giant furrows of dirt and grass flew up in front of them. It was not enough. The fighter smashed through a gigantic glass floor to ceiling window, sending mud, grass, splintered wood and shattered glass into the living room. Rook blinked, then checked his displays. Everything seemed to be in working order. Amazing. "That's what you get for not making me warmaster," he growled quietly before flipping on the external speaker system. "Paging Dr. Jedi, Dr. Jedi. Get in by order of your drunk Empress."

 

[Dmitri]

Geist had just returned from the Iron Citadel, performing some last minute "governmental duties". He had returned to the planet to do more than just officiate a wedding. As Dark Lord, there was a lot of surprising bureaucracy to manhandle; he still suspected the empress took advantage of his workaholicism. Still, at least he was home. A glass of a rare Mandalorian wine in his hand as he walked through the extravagant halls of the mansion that had been home to House Weiss for eons, the Cinnagaran regent leisurely walked to his reading room. He had recently begun reading a book called Sleepless and had little time to read it. However, with the Dark Council off on the empress' after party (which he was bound to hear all about it on the HoloNet), he had carved a rare window into his schedule to read the next chapter in Sleepless, a rare novel that was on paper rather than a datapad. He was hoping the chapter would finally end the mystery of if John really was gay and if he really was having a secret affair with his former co. worker Andy.

Sitting in a velvet silk chair, which had been weaved by Ewoks on Endor, the Dark Lord allowed the muscles in his body to unwind. His illusion was still present, second nature to him these days rather than for secrecy; for years it was simply a part of him, something he rarely thought about. The last time he had seen his own body was when he had awakened naked in a hospital bed with Seamus Mouldin in the room. A nearby fireplace warmed his aching body, a music box containing a ring endowed with Sith magic and luxurious stones sitting on the mantle glowed, supplying light to the room. Sneaking in a sip of the Mandalorian wine, he flipped over to the bookmarked page.

Before his mind could register the words on the page, suddenly the wall burst with an unnatural fury. Wood and stone and metal shot all over the place. Darth Somnus' instincts took over and he telekinetically warded himself from the brute of the shrapnel, though a sharp metal beam impaled his chair, an inch away from his ear. The only thing preventing the Dark Lord from breaking into a combative stance and flinging the shuttle into the air using the Force was sensing the passengers inside. Indeed, it would be an awkward conversation to have to explain to the empress why he flew her fifty feet into the air. In his hypothetical defense, she did fly unexpectedly into his house.

Realizing he had frozen mid-breath, he exhaled deeply. Remaining silent, he stared in contempt to the shuttle that had just damaged his very expensive and antique home, strings of red flaring subconsciously through his illusionary metallic skin.

 

[GABA]

"Ahhh....puppy, you neez to relearn to fly." she patted the wookiee's back. Ebb took another drink to keep her buzz going, her forhead resting against the window for a moment as her world started to spin just a little too fast for her.

"Geezzz...this is Geisty's place?" she questions, even though she knew the answer, "Ah man, someone should help him clean up, he is kind of a slob.." Ebb spoke to the best of her ability and unbuckled her harness. Though it took the woman some time to figure out how to press a single button, the toughest part being, she refused to put down the bottle to use both hands. Ebb got up and leaned against the wookiee, talking into the comm.

"Dude, Geisty, you shouldz totes getta -ouse cleaner...I am glad wev had this intavention..." Ebb took another drink and handed the bottle to Rook, "Empresssssss, gurl....your minion iz messah..." the Corellian was clearly toasted out of her mind as she tried to speak quietly, oblivious to the face of the matter they crashed into Geist's home.

 

[Andraste OG]

Andraste felt queasy as they crash landed, wondering if she were about to die. She knew it was a bad call to let the dog drive, and the fact that they were all inebriated only just now registered. She clutched onto her seat and screamed like a little girl as if she never knew what the Force was or how to defend herself. Her eyes were shut, mouth wide open in a scream as everyone screamed around her.


Almost as abruptly as it had begun, it was over. They had crash landed in a house, and she lurched forward and landed on her stomach. Andraste slowly came to as she crawled out of the ship, hearing Ebberla complaining about Geist. She was right, the surroundings were horrid. Andraste slowly stood on her feet, looking around with disapproval. She saw the Dark Lord of the Sith standing before her, clutching what looked like a sappy romance novel. There was even some terrible music playing in the background. Obviously he had been having some alone time.


“G-Geist…erm…”


She raised a finger as if to give him a very Empress-ly command. However, all that came out was..


“BLAAAARRGHH”


It spewed out directly onto his feet in the most unceremonious way possible. It was pure bile and alcohol, and she covered her mouth in shock.


“Oh my. That is very unbecoming of me…”


She coughed as if nothing happened and looked back.


“Well we’re here! Come Geist, join us as we go explore this seedy district you’ve made yourself a home in. I’ll cover the repair costs..and um invest in some new décor.”


As she walked through the house, she noticed various pictures of cats and kittens on the walls.


“Hm.. the more you know.”

 

[Dmitri]

The famous Apeiron was in ruins. A Dark Side artist pre-dating the rise of the Sith had painted a collection of felines of different species, 68 in total. Legend had it that there was an incomplete 69th painting that had never been finished due to Albedo Apeiron having been tortured by, ironically, a Cathar Jedi. Apeiron had disappeared soon after that. Now Apeiron's legacy was in tatters or in flames. All that remained of the destroyed paintings were dark side residue.

Geist placed his book onto the table and deactivated the music player that was playing jizz. With a wave of his hand, he commanded the powers of a god. Walls rebuilt themselves in an instant. A fireplace erected where the crashed shuttle lay, justifying a second tower of smoke with another chimney. As as he played god, a read goddess approached him, albeit demonstrating her mortality with drunkenness, ending the metaphorical illusion of her deification whereas his real illusions hid her secret and this trepidation. He ignored the comments from Ebberla Daw. The shuttle crashed had ruined his tolerance for the woman and he dared not talk to her lest take his anger out on her.

His tolerance wasn't the only thing ruined. So were his slippers as the matriarch of a majority of the galaxy vomited onto his feet. A slight shiver shot through him, a coalescence of disgust and self-inducing calmness. Pinching his brow, he addressed his master. "Insurance will cover the damages, what can be replaced anyways. Much of the architecture pre-dates the fall of the Republic. The 'decor' is a collection of paintings by a Dark Side-oriented artist who lived before the rise of the Sith. His entire collection was rested here, and now its value has entered oblivion." Allowing another deep breath to consume him, he said, "Now, I would normally offer a drink. One of my rare Mandalorian wines or an exotic brandy. But it appears that all of you need is a lot of caf." Walking away like a boss, ignoring the sogginess of his slippers, he walked over to the table his book rested on and pulled out a shelf, fishing out a datapad. He typed in a command to summon servant droids to begin cleaning up and to bring a round of refreshments. One of his numerous lightsabers hidden throughout the mansion was already in the drawer, which he picked up and attached to his belt.

 

[GABA]

"Arrghhh, grosssssss!" Ebb exclaimed watching the Empress spew all over the Dark Lord's slippers. She reached into the top of her dress, pulling out her comm and took a picture.

#MuchParty #WretchedGrossness #spacedrinkinggames #darkcouncil #VOLO

Ebb stopped and thought for a moment, #Volo didn't sound correct....but then again she didn't know what half the stuff she typed even met...Ebberla shrugged and hit send. She starred at her device for a moment longer and took a drink from the bottle, her brain slowly catching up to what she had just done. "Ohhh...damn..." she cursed realizing she sent the image to Thaed. Of course being inebriated and therefore having no remorse, Ebberla followed up her good decision making by taking a shelfie and sending it to Thaed.

"...#Spacegurls #sithrulz #swag...annnnnnd send-da..." Ebb spoke out loud while climbing over the rubble and while she made her way through, found a slightly chipped glass and poured in some whiskey, and giving it to Geist.

 

[Clayton]

Rook stuck his head out his ships door, "I'm the most sober out of all of you. Get back in. Also, might have left a small skid on your lawn there, your Lordship. We have an underground biker bar and casino to hit up. The more you play the more drinks you get. Ever had a Greasy Sarlaac shot? It's burger grease and tatooine moonshine garnished with a lime."

He then spied Ebb texting. "Yeah you're not flying, you'll hit something again." All in all things seemed to be going well. Geist hadn't enacted revenge, and if he could get the men drunk enough, he'd forget this ever happened. Sounded like a good plan to him.

 

[Sreeya]

Andraste had no idea pictures of her were being snapped left and right. She wiped her mouth, watching as Geist attempted an escape.


“Oh nonono. You’re joining us Mr. Dark Lord.”


She giggled at her own comment, followed by a hiccup. She grasped Geist by the wrist, making to leave the house. Upon Rook’s suggestion, she stopped in her tracks. Grumbling in agreement, she followed the wookiee.


As they proceeded to a seedy district, music boomed from all around them. The smell of spice was heavy in the air, and Andraste felt very lightheaded. The thump of bass resounded from the walls all around them. There were a billion colors and neon signs all around them, with scantily clad people giggling and shouting on the streets.


One particularly well endowed twi’lek walked in the opposite direction of them. She paused to grin at Geist, walking two fingers up his chest and whispering sweet nothings. Andraste quickly released him, realizing that the poor man probably could use some attention from the opposite gender.


She caught up with Rook, stumbling next to him and almost child-like height next to him.


“What happens if people recognize us?”


---


Meanwhile on the other side of the galaxy, a certain former Sith Lord was passed out in front of a HoloNet broadcasting the latest news. There was a datapad on his chest, along with stains of what appeared to be vomit.


He had Vida duty tonight, and he had been using the Force to rock her to sleep while vegetating on a couch. His lightsabers were on a shelf somewhere, the entire room a mess because Vida took over it entirely. Her drawings hung on every wall, and various toys that habitually stabbed Thaed’s feet were strewn about on the floor.


A high pitched shrill woke him up from his slumber. He about fell on his face from shock. He had only had his commlink on for Ebberla, silence for anyone else. Believing it to be an emergency, because the stupid woman never texted him, he opened up to see the contents.


“..why you stupid little-“


“WAAAHHHH!”


The noise had woken up Vida as well, after it had taken ages to get her to finally fall asleep. Both dad and daughter were yelling at this point, both for entirely different reasons. The Zabrak spewed about a thousand curses as he tended to the child, the racket loud enough to wake up all his neighbors.


Nice to know at least Ebberla was having fun.

 

[GABA]

“What happens if people recognize us?”

Ebberla overheard Andraste speak, picking up the beats in her head as she bounced subtly to the music while walking down the streets.

"Well...we live it up...no use den-i-a-inggg!" Ebberla spat out her words, finding it harder to speak coherently. She pulled out her comm once more and started typing, "Hashtag- No hiding-hashtag-Live it up- Hashtag Council that rocks!" Ebb pressed 'send', "Kriff...yeah..." she inhaled, taking in the burning cigara smoke and spice that drifted into the streets.

For the Corellian, it was a smell she was all too familiar with, and instead of her nose turning away, she felt a warmth of old memories swarm her thoughts. More specifically those of her old smuggling days as a teen; the type of crowds and seedy districts they used to visit made their current location look like ideal place to raise a healthy family.

One particular club caught Ebb's eye and she beckoned with an over-exaggeration wave to follow as she lead them inside. Woman and Men of all species filled the bar, the counter was packed and a very butch woman stood on stage in fishnets, a corset and a boa singing in the most sensual manner in which an bass voice could sing. Ebb dropped some credits at the bar and got herself some more liquor and had attracted the eyes of some slender females working on their newest pick up lines. The Corellian blushed and pressed her lips against the rim of her glass while one female leaned in and whispered analogies of her martini glass and her lady-ness.