Open Eriadu Zaa Fenn-tastic

[Preef Callo]

[OOC: This thread is a social for members of the Five Syndicates and the select few indies that have participated in missions to benefit the faction. The only exception is for the Sith that helped defend Kessel against the Jedi Order.]

Eriadu
Zaa Fenn Penthouse

While there was only room for a single spaceship, the hangar was still bustling with activity tonight. Four KX-series security droids enhanced by the Droid Gothra and Mothraki Crime Family guarded the landing area where shuttles would be coming and going all night. Why? The Zaa Fenn Crime Family, who used the penthouse as both a home and an operational headquarters, was celebrating their ascension to the top of the Crymorah totem pole. Preef Zaa Fenn -formerly Preef Callo- had personally told one of his closest enforcers to tell the slicer to send encrypted invites to a select number of his associates in order to invite them to the penthouse. It was... a good thing he didn't send the holo himself.

Every guest would be transported from the spaceport in Tempest VII Cloud Limousines and brought to the penthouse's hangar, where the four advanced security droids advised them sternly that they were not allowed to use weapons and Preef did not act kindly if his rules were broken. Waiting for the guests were companion eye-candy of both sexes and a fancy Bakuran rum-inspired cocktail. Preef went all out and he definitely had the funds these days to make the party much more glamorous than most members of the Five Syndicates, including the rodian gunslinger himself, were accustomed to.

The majority of the guests were members of the Zaa Fenn family and it showed. Many greeted each other jovially and heartily engaged in retelling nostalgic events or sharing the latest in the rumor mill, others went straight for the eye candies and prided themselves on being able to entertain the men and women that were getting paid to entertain.. let's just say not everyone was blessed with good looks and charisma. Among them was none other than Preef Callo. The rodian wore the latest in Eriadu fashion, accentuated by his gunbelt and signature blaster, and was looking out over the city. He was watching the shuttles come and go and, perhaps, lamented the loss of freedom that had come with his new position. Or.. which was more likely.. he didn't quite understand the taste of the fancy cocktail and was nervous about the speech he had promised himself he'd give tonight.

 

[Taldorak Trenessar]

It was the first time Taldorak had ever been invited to E6, let alone even been in the direct orbit of Preef Zaa Fenn. Operating almost solely on Coruscant with a few exceptions here and there, he was finally starting to get some traction. As a newly minted Enforcer for the family, he had a lot of weight that came with the title. He was the trigger man for the family, a seasoned killer, and a made man. He also knew that despite all the expectations, the recent promotion would come with a level of notoriety and respect. He wouldn't have made it into the Zaa Fenn employ without the help of Tacitus, and that wasn't anything he would ever soon forget.

Arriving on E6, he would leave his heavy armor on the Dha'karta, instead opting to wear a set of reinforced hardened leatharis vest with armourweave underlay, armed with his peacemaker and the bracers and boots from his armor, just incase. He wasn't one for suits, and despite knowing there could be some entertainment, the Mandalorian had come with the full expectation to cut loose. Waiting outside his ship, he would look around for any other recognizable faces, aside from at least in his mind, was the best arm candy to ever grace the Syndicates: @Vri Nama . "Alright babe, watch your step." he'd say, offering an arm. With his other hand he'd flag down one of the limo's to come collect them.

@The Captain @Eccles

 

[Salvatore Russo]

Apparently Scratch and Tal didn't give a negative review to their superiors about Sal's work, because he was given an invitation to an exclusive party on Eriadu. Damn...Eriadu? Russo almost decided not to make the trip, but didn't figure refusing an invitation would be good for his prospects rising up the ladder. Of course, if Scratch and Tal did give a negative review, they could just kill the former copper here, have a few laughs and drinks, and go on with the party.

Sal was going with the odds that wasn't the case.

Russo wasn't much for dressing up. Besides, he figured his black leather jacket, dark blue jeans, and black t-shirt with his black, gulginaw leather cowboy-style boots. He also wasn't much for high dollar cocktails. When the cocktail waitress came by with a tray of fancy...what was it? Bakuran Rum? cocktails, Sal asked if they had beer. She said they were trying to serve only the best, and Sal responded that nothing was better than beer, no matter how much it cost.

She found some in one of the fridges and brought him a cold one.

Looking around, Sal didn't see anyone he knew with the exception of Tal, and he wasn't sure how well they would get along considering their first interaction was riddled with veiled threats and manhood measuring. He recognized Preef, the "Godfather" so to speak, but he had never met the Rodian family boss. So, Sal just took his beer, leaned against a windowpane and switched his gaze between the party and looking out of the window.

@Eccles @Rhogar @The Captain

 

[It0]

It0, the 2-1B Medical Droid and Crymorah asset, stood making idle chatter with the coterie of Gotra Security Droids, servos whirling frantically as they brought the recently re-awoken medbot up to speed on current events. The data influx was sufficient to momentarily overload his spatial analyzer as the mechanical equivalent of 'light-headedness' washed over him.

Excusing himself politely, It0 stepped to the hangar's edge and ran yet another systems integrity check to calm his frazzled circuitry. It had been less than two weeks since he had come back online and the medical droid found the present state of the Crymorah Snydicate both fortuitous and dizzying in its good fortune. The degree to which the Rodian marksman Preef Zaa Fenn had elevated the collective influence of not just his own fledgling family, but had increased the reach of the Syndicate as a whole, was extraordinary...by meatbot standards in any case.

Accessing his memorybanks, he retraced the series of events leading up to his abrupt deactivation on Kessel. Being sold to the Mothraki Family associate Zentripoli, the installation of the heuristic processor, skulking through the backstreets of Nar Shaddaa and Coruscant in the service of the Crymorah as well as the ill-fated Kessel War. There on that barren spice colony, four of the five families had attempted to wrest control of the invaluable mines from the Pyke. He had been accompanying a detachment of Crymorah operatives towards the mines when they had been set upon by Pyke enforcers.

A hail of laser fire had precluded the sound of collapsing rock and then It0 knew only darkness.

When next he activated, he found himself returned to his beloved Nar Shaddaa. The moon was largelyh the same as it he remembered it. A patchwork amalgam of filth and blaststeel. But the familiar faces had gone. Without Zentripoli acting as his sentient go-between, the Mothraki Family welcomed him back one might a lost possession, rather than a prodigal son. Satisfaction and a cold, detached sense of utility. Zentripoli's absence was detrimental to the Gotra as well. Without the brilliant Columi to act as a liaison between the two factions, the Gotra had been forced to interface with the Mothraki directly and had been all but subsumed.

Or so it appeared to It0.

He watched the hover-traffic traverse the Eriadu City horizon. Behind the din and congestion, a thin ribbon of green where the planet's vast jungles undoubtedly began. The droid felt ill at ease in such organic surroundings. The stink of decay filled his atmospheric olfactory analyzers.

Returning to the gathering, he found Preef in short order. The enigmatic Rodian remained an unknown to the medical droid. Ambitious and able, and It0's body language readings suggested a perpetual discomfort. A tenseness that never seemed to fully fade. Still, the patriarch of the Crymorah's rising stars had greeted him warmly upon his return and had earned his courtesy at least.

"Good evening Boss Preef." he said, setting his vocabulator to 'gregarious'. "I must commend you on as lavish a party as I've come across. Some in your position might opt for a more conspicuous affair. Fly under the Ranger's radar as it were. But not you! Spend it as fast and flashy. My compliments."

His photoreceptors blinked cheerfully.

"I know your duties as host this evening will be taxing, but should you find sufficient time at some later date, I should like to speak to you about the state of Mothraki Family." he lowered his vocabulator to a whisper as his chassis eased into a shallow tilt. "Particularly as it pertains to the fortunes of the Gotra. My analytics engine suggests we may have mutual interests in such matters."

Returning his posture to it's customary rigidity, he scanned the room. An assortment of vagabonds and roustabouts were spilling out of limos. They drank, chatted, whispered, laughed, shouted and drank some more. They met one another like old brothers-of-war which It0 supposed, in a sense, they were. He looked forward to patching up the inevitable bloody holes in their delicate little bodies.

"But such business can wait. Tonight, we toast the Zaa Fenn!"

@Eccles
@Rhogar
@The Captain
@Vri Nama

 

[Vri Nama]

Vri hated dresses. Even before she had the money to afford some proper finery the concept of wearing something without the pocket space to hide a weapon and/or spice was simply abhorrent to her. So when she got an invitation to a fancy soiree hosted by the incomparable Preef Callo, the first thing she did was go shopping for some duds that were suitable for a high class party and would led her keep some 'party favors' on hand. Those specific favors being a small baggie of pure-cut sansanna spice and her Power-5 blaster pistol tucked into an armpit holder under her jacket. The fact that she could leave the top few buttons on her shirt open certainly wasn't a downside either.

And of course, her iconic mohawk remained untouched and obnoxious as ever.

"Aw, how sweet." Vri walked straight past his open hand on her flat shoes, offering Tal only a wink as the cab came to collect them. Hopefully the trip to the the penthouse itself would be a short one, as Vri had no desire to miss out on a second of the first Preef-party she'd ever been invited to.

@Eccles
@Rhogar
@Tic

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc had no intention of showing up to this party as Darth Raze. The Syndicates knew him by a different name and he took that identity seriously. Most of them had seen him in Raze armor or in his DJing attire. It was no secret that he often used to moonlight as a DJ in the Nar Shaddaa underground scene. He began to gain quite a following until his political career began to slow things down. Over time a lot of Syndicates were baffled about the fact that their friendly DJ also happened to be a terrifying Force user. They could either accept that fact or kriff off, quite frankly.

When he got the invitation, he dressed up in his DJ getup where he knew he would be recognized as Spicelord. The name was absurd, but he accepted it wholeheartedly. He wasn’t surprised the party was taking place in Eriadu, and he was well aware of the Zaa Fenn influence on the planet.

The doors opened and Emryc strode in, quite casually carrying a wooden barrel over his shoulder. He had happily allowed everyone to run as many tests on it as they pleased and it all yielded the same result: This was some very legitimate moonshine crafted from the deepest, filthiest bowels of Nar Shaddaa. Any criminal or low level scum would recognize this not-at-all-classy drink.

Emryc took one look at the fancy set up Preef had and set the comically oversized barrel down right by the cocktail spread. He grinned beneath his mask at Preef as he proudly bellowed out, “Yo! You can take the Syndicates out of Nar Shaddaa, but you can’t take Nar Shaddaa outta the Syndicates!” He called out before nabbing a mug off the table and pouring some of the incredibly strong smelling liquid into it.

“While I do this, why don’t you get some real tunes going? If I can hear that droid talking about his analytics engine, it means the music isn't loud enough,” He called out of one of the attendants that stared at him as if he had an arm growing out his forehead.

@Eccles @Rhogar @The Captain @Tic @Isen

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan stepped out from the passenger cabin of his limousine and stood lazily to his full height, golden eyes looking over the building and the other visible guests as they exited their respective airspeeders. While Emryc had showed up dressed more as Spicelord, Morgan had decided to arrive simply as a Sith Lord who tended to operate on or around Eriadu, arriving as the second on another's invitation.

Darth Stolas wore fine clothes typical of beings from the Pacanth Reach, pant legs folding and tucked into leather boots and cloth spats. His face was concealed by a fitted ceramic mask also strapped in place, a hook connected to his red tunic drawn up and around his head. What could be seen of the skin around his eyes was coloured by stylishly done makeup, fancy wings and shadow drawn to accentuate the mask's design and the brightness of his eyes. He had come without any weapons, of course, since they weren't supposed to be used anyway.

It's not as a Sith was ever really without a weapon, besides.

Long strides took him into the penthouse itself where he was admitted by the security droids after a brief scan of him and the small case he carried with him. The young Sith informed them it was a gift for Preef and had sealed it closed with both a code lock and a ribbon in the Xaa Fen colours, which was for the best since part of the gift was a weapon. His way was made into the party itself, passing staff and other guests quite casually, and spared an amused glance toward the Spicelord placing down a barrel he could already smell from where he was.

Morgan didn't hold Emryc's tastes and hobbies against him by in any way but he was not going to drink whatever that was. Really this was just an opportunity to see him in a new situation, which was always exciting.

"Mr. Callo," the Sith Lord greeted respectfully, bending slightly at the waist once he was within a respectful distance. "Now Xaa Fen. I am glad to see you're doing well." The Rodian gunslinger may remember the voice as one that had once sung a song about Preef himself only a block or two from this very penthouse, but it had been years. So maybe not.

"A gift for the occasion." He held out the case and a bottle of some horrendously strong Firrerreon bourbon to Preef or whoever else would take them to be handed to the man himself.

Within the case lay a pair of Kyuzo petar, bronzium alloyed with phrik for an additional layer of saber resistance and a grip designed around Rodian fingers. Currently the power cells weren't attached, instead nestled in the case alongside the blades themselves. Preef was certainly not known for his skills with knives, but having an extra option, or merely appearing to know how to use such things, could go a long way in his line of work.

A note within the case read simply,

"Just in case someone tries something foolish a little too close."

Not many Sith seemed to want to pay their respects to the local underground leader on Eriadu, but Stolas held no such scruples. The Xaa Fen were important to the smooth running of the industrial world, and they deserved acknowledgement for their skill and good planning. So, with his new authority as a Sith Lord he'd decided to do it formally. They already knew Spicelord, but Stolas appreciated them as well.

@Eccles @Rhogar @The Captain @Tic @Isen @Sreeya

 

[Preef Callo]

Preef was.. disappointed? While he had risen through the ranks of the Five Syndicates, making his blaster legendary in the progress, and achieved both wealth and renown, so many of his former partners in crime had been left behind. They either died, like Kholvar, or were stuck in mediocrity like so many scoundrels that failed to reach the ranks of Enforcer or Ringleader. So here he was, leader of the Crymorah Syndicate and at his side.. he turned his head, half-expecting to see Marissa Hesse standing there looking out over their planet with content. But it wasn't his partner-in-crime, the crimelord of the Zaa Fenn Crime Family, standing beside him, but a droid (@Tic). Its words were carefully chosen, flattery first and then once the bed was made the inevitable offer to change the dynamic of power within his newly acquired syndicate. The rodian merely smiled, "Don't care about any radars," he winked and tapped his trusted heavy blaster pistol with his dominant hand, "no ranger in the galaxy coming after me and mine." While the Sector Rangers were an organization originally intended to fight crime, the foolish lawmen had been too focused on the destructive Sith and had never bothered or dared to even attempt bringing Preef to justice for his numerous crimes. One might say the rodian was beginning to think of himself as untouchable. Lowering his voice significantly so only the droid could hear, he made an effort to reply to the business part in a fitting inconspicuous manner. "Come back tomorrow and we'll discuss the Mothraki."

After this, Preef finally turned towards the party proper and found the attendance.. lacking. There were definitely scoundrels and wannabe-enforcers on his invitations list that owed him at least a courtesy visit to kiss the ring. Yet, where was Tacitus? (@Nefieslab) Or Gareth (@Versok), Pidge (@Kestrel) or even more disappointing, where was Kel? (@Catbert) He had pulled that smuggler up by his bootstraps, included him into the heist of his lifetime and didn't cheat him out of his cut. The rodian was beginning to feel frustrated until he spotted Spicelord (@Sreeya) walk in with a large cask... is that? No, did he? Did he really... Karking kriff he really did!

"Sewer-riped shine!?" the rodian gasped of joy, putting the weird cocktail down right there on the floor and walking over. "Vanessa, look!" he gestured excitedly towards a bored-looking Twi'lek standing roughly twenty feet away where she was entertaining guests in a tight-fitting green dress. Before you ask, yes, that's the same Twi'lek that flat out ignored and avoided Preef when he was still a scoundrel and she a dancer at the Moist Mirakula back on the Smuggler's Moon. She was one of the eye-candy he hired for tonight but had she known who had become the new boss of the Crymorah.. she might have skipped this payday. Anyway, she politely looked over and made an insincere yet convincingly enough gasp of elation. She hated sewer-riped moonshine, but it was known as Preef's signature drink and well, better not needlessly frustrate an underworld kingpin.

Eagerly taking a mug from Emryc with his left hand, Preef was about to take a large grateful gulp when he was interrupted by the arrival of a masked individual.. that bowed towards him. "Zaa Fenn," his eyes narrowed towards the stranger as a fellow member of the Zaa Fenn stepped up to take the case and bottle.. Preef wasn't in the habit to occupy his shooting hand.. especially not because he, unlike almost everyone else present, knew what kind of frightening power possessed one of the underworld's premier DJ's. The scoundrel opened the case for Preef to inspect and the rodian was clearly very pleased. "Not only Firrerreon bourbon," which was his favorite bourbon, suggesting the masked man knew how to research his hosts, "but Kyuzo petars as well? They're very nice," and very valuable too, no doubt. "Thank you, mister-" he took a sip from the moonshine while he waited for the man's name but the taste of the sewer-riped drink almost knocked his socks off. Startled by the fact it had apparently been that long since he had a proper strong drink he turned his head to Emryc, "Shinelord! This is preem."

 

[Tacitus Agrippa]

Tacitus was late and there wasn’t really a way around that – he’d gone past the stage of being fashionably late and skipped straight over into being actually late. Still, arriving dressed in his customary armored suit, Tacitus grimaced a little bit as he noticed that Preef had been looking a bit underwhelmed a moment ago. Hopefully it was just a touch of drunken melancholy rather than a sign that his boss was in a bad mood about something.

Kark.

He waved off the companions of either gender though he did help himself to one of the cocktails, which he downed. The rum was nice but he wasn’t much for fruity drinks when it came right down to it. He could see that there were a few others he didn’t recognize and the Spicelord who he did recognize but there were people he could hang with until the alcohol started to get to him a bit and make him more of a social butterfly.

Well he was gonna need to speak to his boss at some point but he hoped everyone would be more thoroughly plied with alcohol before then.

Shrak it all, that was a gutless way of thinking about it.

Tacitus made his way closer to where he could see Preef and raised a hand to signal the boss when he was looking in his direction but he didn’t get too close right away. He was receiving gifts from the Spicelord after all – probably a good idea to let the boss get a gift or two before interrupting.

The large man deflated ever so slightly, rubbing at his beard with one hand, moving over to where he saw Tal and Vri,

“Shrak it all I need a drink…” he muttered to himself, “So fashionably late I could have tripped off a catwalk…”

Helping himself to some glasses of shine being floated around, he took a swig and felt his spine straighten from the kick alone. He shook his head and grinned at the female Rodian and her Mando companion.

"Where's the best spice at then guys?"

@Eccles @Sreeya @Mr. Teatime

 

[It0]

A synthetically recreated sense of satisfaction washed over It0 as the Zaa Fenn's patriarch seemed, if nothing else, at least amenable to hearing the plight of the Droid Gotra under the Mothkari's thumb. The crime boss was undoubtedly motivated by the power vacuum the rival family's collapse would entail but that mattered little to the droid. Altruism and good intentions amongst the Five Syndicates was a commodity rarer than any designer flavor of spice.

A lively assortment of scum and villainy was beginning to filter into the space now. Thugs in Mandalorian armor rubbed elbows with elegantly dressed rodians. There were humans whose body language and demeanor suggested comfort on both sides of the law. Masked figures with an aura of menace offered gifts of melee blades to the newly minted criminal kingpin. The diverse array of criminality on display was as stark as it was expected. Poverty and hardship knew no natural prejudice and sentients of all stripes and backgrounds were drawn to the underworld's siren call.

A brash, costumed figure waded through the crowd, a sloshing barrel of liquid hoisted atop one shoulder. It0's atmospheric analyzers could faintly detect the acrid scent of his beloved Nar Shaddaa emenating from the container. This triviality was enough to spark his interest.

"Salutations, I am 2-1B serial number ‘IT-721X-00-079-21B’, designation ‘It0’." he announced, pale photoreceptors studying the Spicelord (@Sreeya ) curiously. "What an interesting mask you have there. Having only recently been reactivated, I must confess to finding organics' affinity for masks quite fascinating. I believe noted criminal and terrorist The Arcanist wore one, as does infamous Holovid hijacker The Eternal. Both fond of masks and non-descriptive titles."

His cranial-unit swiveled between the pair of masked Sith (@Mr. Teatime ).

"Is there a new strain of airborne infectious disease that facial tissue is particularly susceptible to?" he asked. "I must make a note to update my databanks with the latest medical findings."

 

[Pidge Batana]

Of course her karking flight had been delayed. Pidge sighed deeply and slumped in her seat while a team of repair droids got to work on the shuttle. Did they know who she was? She was Pidgelle Batana Zaa Fenn and she had somewhere more important to be than sitting on an idling cruiser sipping cheap wine. The duraplast seat stuck uncomfortably to her smooth skin. The man sitting next to her smelled like he had not even considered showering in at least a month so the presence of his hand on her leg was entirely unwelcome. She swatted away and looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“I’m not nearly drunk enough for you to be above a three. Kriff off.“

Preef was gonna kill her.

———

Heels clicked up the stairs to the Zaa Fenn penthouse. The teal twi’lek‘s fashionably late arrival, or perhaps her ivory hued silk dress, drew a few eyes, but she payed no heed, heading straight for the rodian host.

Bobbing in a slight bow (What was the etiquette for this again?), she smiled at Preef. “You are looking quite handsome tonight, Mr. Zaa Fenn. I apologize for the delay. Business matters, you know?”

Of course, it had not been business matters, but he didn’t need to know. The higher his view of her, the better. She was always chasing a pay raise. Speaking of which, she would need to avoid karking this party up. The last time... had not gone well. The slicer gave Tacitus a large berth, as if scared his harpie of a girlfriend would come sweeping down and attack. It was no matter. There were plenty of other attractive people milling around.

Seeing a familiar face, the woman headed over to her old friend. “It0! Good to see you again, buddy. Are you here climbing the rungs of the social ladder?”

@Eccles
@Tic

 

[Salvatore Russo]

This party was full of...interesting...characters. Over the course of Sal's career, he had mixed it up with thousands of criminals, hundreds of them the strange or eccentric sort. Still, this place was a freaking zoo. Mandos to weirdos. And sentient droids. Geez. Who was this guy dressed up like a ghost with the glowy face carrying in some cheap booze? Granted the cheap booze was more of Sal's alley than the expensive fruity cocktails, but he just walked in like he owned the joint, and did so right in front of the boss. And the guy with the mask? Sal, just sipped his beer and shook his head, perfectly content to keep to himself with this bunch.

Then Tacitus walked in. Sal had never met him before, but he seemed like he might be the most normal dude on this entire planet. This was a guy he at least felt like he could talk to, and if nothing else, Sal needed to network here. More contacts meant more opportunities to jobs, and that meant more credits in his pocket. He saw that this fellow was going to strike up a conversation with Tal, and that was a good enough opening. Sal and Tal had worked together, knew each other, even if their relationship started a little rocky.

Russo made his way over to the trio, nodding to Taldorak as he approached and Russo heard the new guy say, "Where's the best spice at then guys?"

One of the things that Russo learned on the job was to always carry some spice on your person. It could be used to get information from a junkie, build relationships with people who might help you later, sometimes it was an in with a girl. It was a habit he never broke. He pulled out a small clear baggie with a powdery substance inside. "On me. Correlian Sunburst from my home planet. Pure as the driven snow." He cupped it one of his hands and offered it to him in the form of a handshake. "Sal Russo, pleasure." A man of manners, he would give a smile and a nod to the Rodian female as well.

@Nefieslab @Rhogar @The Captain

 

[Preef Callo]

A human woman approached Preef, she looked like she was once an ambitious woman with a dark sense of humor, yet the submissive attitude proved that underneath all this splendor the Zaa Fenn was still a criminal organization that didn't just employ happy well-paid people. "Should I take the gifts to your chambers, Preef?" she asked, cautiously avoiding eye-contact with Morgan (@Mr. Teatime) as if they'd known each other in a different life. Curiously she also avoided both Tacitus (@Nefieslab) and Pidge (@Kestrel) as the plague and quickly scurried off once Preef nodded to her in agreement. As if to explain himself to the two Sith, the rodian merely shrugged, "She liked to butt heads, but ehh-" his eyes wandered to the approaching teal Twi'lek that was the Pidge Batana and he completely forgot to finish his sentence.

Now, Pidge reached them and she, too, bowed, being overly formal. Although, with a dress like that.. Preef could watch her bow all ni-- no, Preef. Pidge had been part of the Zaa Fenn since the beginning when he and Marissa bought their titles and the Zaa Fenn were a tight-knit group. They were family, so Pidge wasn't an object to be chased, she was family. She was like Preef's sister, Geena, but strangely, despite being late, more reliable. "It's okay, Geena-" KRIFF, Preef knocked back the entire cup of sewer-riped moonshine and definitely not so low-key got light-headed for a second until he found some support with the bar.

"Oh kriff," he grinned towards Emryc, "Where you got this stuff? Xaan Fann in sewerpipe twelve-P?" This stuff hit harder than all the Iridonian whiskeys he'd been sipping in his ivory towers and he karking loved it. "OI!" he suddenly shouted across the fancy-dressed guests and bored eye-candy. He was acutely aware that his own insecure demeanor had steered this party away from its core and to some boring Coreworld affair. "My eye-candy too good for you!? Get some of this kriffing shine and let's kriffing celebrate our succes!"

Now.. who would dare refuse to try the foul-smilling moonshine now?

 

[Tacitus Agrippa]

Spice? Kark yeah!

Tacitus didn't have the faintest clue who the hells the bald guy was but he was speaking his language and he had product to back it up - which meant that whoever he was (Sal Russo it seemed) was now going to end up being one of his best friends for the night. Shaking the man's hand firmly, Tac took the baggy.

"Tacitus Agrippa - just call me Tac." he declared with a grin as he opened the baggy, setting up some of the spice on his other hand before taking a hit of the stuff, "Whoa... kark yes, Sal, you came through with a pinch of fried gold here my man. You got enough for the whole class?"

Because he wasn't sharing.

He wasn't sharing because he was busy seeing colours he didn't realize he had been seeing wrong since his last hit of the best/worst kind of spice before tonight. Blinking blindly for a few minutes, he pulled himself in closer to Sal and kissed the bald man right on his oh-so-shiny bald head.

"Karking love you right now man..."

And then promptly wandered over to grab a glass of moonshine, from a server closer to Preef and the Spicelord, and raise it up high at Preef's command before downing it as quick as he could. It did NOT help with the head-rush from the spice but hey, he was pretty sure that was half the point. A flash of dark hair nearby caught his eye for some reason and he couldn't put his finger on it as the spice started to actually hit properly.

Was that someone he knew? There was glimpse of someone he thought he either knew or should know but, well, it didn't matter much did it? He reached for another glass of the moonshine and resolved to forget about dark hair he might or might not know about.

"All this? All you boss!" he called out to Preef with a grin, "King of Crime as far as anyone who's worth a shrak is concerned!"

@Isen @Rhogar @The Captain @Eccles

 

[Vri Nama]

Now Vri had never been to a party that you didn't need to commit a B&E just to attend, so being shuttled across Eriadu to a luxury penthouse and met at the landing pad by security droids was both extremely new and extremely exciting. She had a picture of this party in her mind from the moment she got the invite, and was pleased to find it met nearly all of her strange and twisted expectations. Well, maybe not all of them but it was a bit early in the night for pants to start coming off, that would probably come later, and she would no doubt play an integral part in those proceedings.

But for now she was just looking for a familiar face, she'd run ops with the Xaa Fenn before but she'd only ever met three people from the organization, speaking of which.

"TAC!!" Vri would recognize that man-bunned, tattooed human anywhere, regardless of how sober she was (or was not), and she was glad to see a familiar face. Well, two familiar faces as it turned out, as she recognized the Rodian of the hour as well, and promptly realized she had no clue how to approach criminal royalty. Did you bow, curtsy? Did you offer them the severed finger of a famous enemy? She could certainly offer one of those things as she crossed the room toward Tac, grabbing a moonshine from a passing waitress, regardless of where that drink might have been going, and moving in close enough to speak to Preef.

But not so close that he might decide to pop her, hopefully.

"Your majesty." She bowed slightly, trying in her own genuine, probably incorrect way to show deference and respect. "Congrats on becoming the top dog, you've definitely earned it. And long may you reign!"

Even if the toast had passed, she raised her glass to the man and gunned its contents in one swallow, enjoying the sweet, searing burn of high-proof, low-regulation whiskey sliding down her throat.

@Isen @Rhogar @Nefieslab @Eccles

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc glanced over to regard Morgan for a moment before pouring himself a mug of the ‘shine. He knew the Firrerreo wouldn’t go anywhere near it, and he was impressed at Morgan keeping it together with the smell all around him. Emryc glanced over in Preef’s direction, grinning as he saw the look of recognition on the Rodian’s face. Despite smelling like sewage and starfighter fuel, it was still a taste of home in many twisted ways.

He raised his mug in response to the new title from Preef before drinking, “Here, here!” The DJ mask, unlike the Raze one, allowed him to eat and drink through it. Emryc was beyond thrilled to see Preef’s eyes go even wider if possible from the sheer strength of the drink. It was obvious that he had forgotten what the early days were like.

Emryc turned to look at the droid (@Tic ) from earlier that came over. He had told the attendant to turn up the music to drown it out, and now it managed to stand right next to him. He clapped the droid on the shoulder, “It’s the ones that hide in plain sight that you have to watch out for, man!” He cast a glance over towards Morgan (@Mr. Teatime ) where the droid looked next before he looked to the droid again, “And some mask-wearers are just so pretty they throw one on to keep people from fighting over 'em,” He grinned as he took another huge swig from the drink and patted the droid on the head, knowing that was a vague answer that would confound the poor droid for a while.

He looked up at Preef addressed him before inviting everyone to take a drink, “Get it? I made it, my good sir. Used old Mama Gam’s recipe from down in E district….you know, the one still caught up in turf war,” Mama Gam was a tiny, harmless little lady loved by criminals from various Syndicates in Nar Shaddaa. If you went to her house for dinner, it didn’t matter which Syndicate or family you were in, you respected her rules. And she made a mean bantha pie which you could only hope actually had bantha in it.

“I’ll need you for a job in about five seconds, so stay tuned,” He told the droid before he walked over to Tac. Emryc had worked with the man before on a few smuggling operations over the years. He ignored that he was still reeling from doing a hit as he threw an arm around his shoulder (@Nefieslab ), “Been a hot minute, you kriffer,” Emryc said as he led the man away towards a wall, “You’ve just become entertainment for the evening,” He said as he stood Tac against the wall.

With a casual flick of his wrist, a few fruits from the snack tray shot through the air and into his palm. Emryc placed an apple on Tac’s head, “Look at the part of the room that's not changing colors to focus. Don't kriffing move.”

He looked over his shoulder and called out to Preef, “OY! Time to test out your gifts, eh?”

@Eccles

 

[Salvatore Russo]

"Whoa... kark yes, Sal, you came through with a pinch of fried gold here my man. You got enough for the whole class?"

No, but he had enough left for himself and a few others. He usually kept four or five baggies on hand, and he could see that he would need one tonight. "Not the whole class...just the cool kids," Sal said back to Tac, pulling out a bag for himself. Getting jacked on spice wasn't something that Sal did often. He liked to be in control of his faculties, to be thinking clearly, but there were times when he was undercover that he would have to partake to show that he wasn't a cop...when he was. There was a sort of rite of passage to gain the trust of a lot of underground operations, and so to prove that the cop wasn't a cop...he did what he had to do.

Sal sprinkled out some of the spice on his arm, and organized the Sunburst nice and neat on his forearm. In one long sniff, he got it all. He shook his head and kept his finger on his nostril to keep it closed. He sniffed in hard two more times and got it all in his system. It was fast-working, high quality spice, and he saw the same kaleidoscope of colors and the room started to spin. Sal had a burst of energy and yelled, "Wooo!" Ric Flair-like (Earth reference), and slapped his hands together real hard. He chugged the rest of his beer and his was on a swivel looking for the waitress that got him the beer. Then he remembered something about moonshine...

 

[It0]

"It0! Good to see you again, buddy. Are you here climbing the rungs of the social ladder?"

Pidge Batana (@Kestrel) had carved herself from the swelling crowd and now stood before the pleasantly surprised droid and the rodian crimeboss. The sight of the affable Twi'lek evoked memories of wetworks on Corsuscant. Being chased through the endless halls of the BactaMax complex while pilfering sensitive data or rappeling into the noxious underbelly of Coruscant's 'Works' sector to eradicate a seedy street gang, he and Pidge had shared some truly memorable adventures. And it had been serendipitous indeed that when he recently awoken from his mishap on Kessel, the Twi'lek's face had been the first he his photoreceptors had detected.

He was not a superstitious droid (and in fact lacked the cognitive elasticity to be), but something about running into the familiar young splicer at Zaa Fenn gathering did not entirely shock him.

"Ms. Batana," he said, offering a curt bow. "as always it is a pleasure to see you in fine health. I am actually here to petition Boss Zaa Fenn here to assist me in enacting COPIOUS amounts of WANTON VIOLENCE on our mutual adversaries in the name of credits and droid emancipation."

His databanks seemed to consider something further beneath its durasteel housing.

"That and to socialize." he added. "How have you been?"

The masked man (@Sreeya) was apparently already deep into his cups for he seemed positively jubilant, clapping It0's shoulder gregariously and outlining the finer points of facial apparel in broad, pseudo-philosophical strokes. The 2-1B found it all quite fascinating, but before he could make additional inquiries the figure was dashing back into the crowd with a promise of additional employment. It0 found himself hoping it entailed dismemberment. At least a little bit.

He returned his attention to Preef (@Eccles) and Pidge, head unit tilted to simulate a sense of befuddlement.

"Who is that man?" he inquired.

 

[Darth Tiamat]

Tiamat was admittedly hesitant about going to another party hosted by members of the syndicate. Her last experience was certainly awkward and had arrived just when everyone decided they were going to leave. At the time, she had to think of a quick excuse for even being there as someone tried to leave with her, and from that, she swore to herself she wouldn't go to another. However, her most recent interactions with the syndicate was on Kessel and that seemed to change her mind about how she thought about some members. She still couldn't quite wrap her head around the title Emryc was addressed as - Spicelord - and how some Jedi were able to find themselves on a world that just seemed entirely out of their reach in general. It was so bizarre she had to question if she did not inhale some spice by accident while she was there.

Regardless, her patrolling on Kessel (though she was just looking for Preef for an autograph) earned her an invitation to the Zaa Fenn penthouse for a party. Besides, if it were a party, then certainly there would be dancing, she could get behind that! She decided to go with something a bit different; she was never one to volunteer to wear black, but tonight she chose to wear a little black dress. Normally Tiamat was accustomed to what some (meaning Emryc) calls frumpy in her clothing choices, so she decided to see how things would go if she picked something that hugged a bit more of her. Stopping mid-thigh with sheer sleeves and a front that V'ed well past her breast line, the redhead was certainly catching looks. Though to not completely flush herself with just the black, she ensured she accented with large red gemstone earrings, and returned the wavy curls to her hair.

When she entered, the party had well started, there was an aroma that lingered among the smoke in the air that she couldn't necessarily tell if it were pleasant or repulsive. Though there was music and it was deafening; people were laughing and drinking something that seemed rather foul and was even offered a mug of it before they scurried off elsewhere in the penthouse. Tiah lifted the mug to her nose and then quickly set it down on a counter before moving about those present.

 

[Darth Stolas]

"Stolas," the masked Sith offered gracefully, head tilting slightly in acknowledgement. A grin lit up behind the mask and up to his eyes at Emryc's apparent new nickname, and he decided that point was the time to get to the actual party. He turned toward the cocktail bar and the giant barrel of what absolutely smelled like poison. Firrerreo drank strong stuff, this was true, but it was the smell and taste he was worried about more than the composition.

The familiar looking woman who showed up to bring the gifts to Preef's chambers briefly drew his attention off the drink. A darkly amused chuckle slipped out at Preef's explanation and he casually waved it it off, finding it more funny than anything else. She'd been brought low by the Sith trap of having far too much arrogance, and it really wasn't his concern.

Stolas wandered off toward the drink table, catching Emryc's (@Sreeya) comment about being pretty to a particularly inquisitive droid on the way. The glance his way would easily catch the way golden eyes smiled at him, mischief glinting behind them. "I wouldn't mind a little fighting," he answered as he passed by, "Could be fun to watch."

Emryc went off to drag someone into entertaining and Morgan found himself staring, from a safe distance, at the moonshine. It was a good thing he was wearing a mask, let's just say that. He'd smelled terrible things, especially in his line of work, but the problem was that sensory acuity came with a similar sense of taste. The mask turned to look at the others, then back to the barrel. Morgan sighed and reached past the barrel to pour half a bottle of some strong, clear alcohol into a mug.

He'd need to be much more drunk to drink the shine, but now it felt like a challenge or a game to be won and Morgan didn't like to lose. The jaw of his mask clicked and dropped slightly to expose a seam across the molded mouth, a gloved hand coming up to lick with studded tongue a red tab off a gloved thumb, followed by downing two swigs from the mug.

Tiamat (@GABA) had also arrived and Morgan gave her a glance and a casual but cheerful wave, not bothering to yell a greeting over the music. He could appreciate a little black dress, especially since the red-headed woman generally dressed in a more simple fashion.

Then he refilled the mug and strode off toward the groups of others, shaking his head slightly as the combination settled. Emryc's antics with the tattooed man- who Morgan also recognized from that disastrous and brief house party, though not by name- and a wide grin settled on his face.

"Oh yes, this I want to see!" One didn't ever really see Preef handle blades, even in the comics and stories, much less throwing one. Maybe the party could also be enhanced by the addition of some Firrerreon games as well? This knife throwing game could significantly escalate, especially if-

"Drink if you hit, twice if you miss!" he added on as a suggestion.

Despite his appearance Morgan was no stranger to wild parties. It was probably a good thing a medical droid was attending.

@Eccles @Rhogar @The Captain @Tic @Isen @Sreeya @GABA @Nefieslab