[IC] [Emissary] Harvestide and All Souls’ Festival
After several seasonal festivals which TOTALLY took place despite the Emissary’s inability to attend personally, it was time for what had become the year’s premiere event of Zeltron-style diplomacy: the Harvestide and All Souls’ Festival. The Arx Fairgrounds were dressed to the nines for the occasion, with the TAD Pole decked out in both whimsical ghosts, witches, and cobwebs, and traditional harvest symbols like sheaves of grain and autumn vegetables.
Otherwise, all was as you might expect from a combination of a farmer’s market and a state fair. There was live music. There were carnival games. There were stalls and stalls of prepared foods and fresh produce, imported from all across Brotherhood territory. There was an extravagant bar run by the Emissary herself, as was always the case at these events.
Festival-goers filled the fairgrounds, glad for the opportunity to celebrate on the Brotherhood’s frankly sometimes-dreary capital. It was currently hovering before sunset—early enough that daytime events could still take place, late enough that less bibelous adults wouldn’t feel self-conscious about adding something extra to their drinks to warm them.
Erinyes, dressed in a pirate queen getup—she would’ve gone with slutty Sith sorceress, until Morgan snarked that it she was supposed to dress as something she wasn’t—surveyed the fairgrounds from a “crowsnest” atop the equally nautical bar. Everyone seemed to be having a good time. There were the usual minor emergencies one encountered at events like these, but nothing she and the staff couldn’t handle.
It was… tame.
Hm.
As if summoned by somebody thinking the word “tame,” a whimsical voice sounded just behind Erinyes’ ear. Literally just behind her ear.
“Whatcha doing?”
Because there was Atyiru, disregarding signs she “couldn’t read” that said staff only and also 99% of personal boundaries.
Erinyes jumped. Upward. A lot. Had she been a cat, she would’ve been hanging by her claws from the ceiling. As it was, she landed back on the edge of the crowsnest, nearly fell down into the bar, and compensated by falling backward into the passenger bucket. At least her drink was covered.
“How did you even get up here?”
The Miraluka gave a very secret smile.
“I’ve been getting Marry to teach me this terribly fun trick of popping up places. Just boop,” the accompanied an actual boop of one finger to Erinyes’ pert snoot, “here then there, tiddydumdee! Did worry for a bit the whole translocation through the fabric of space-time might have adverse effects on the baby, but he loves it. You look positively tumbling, by the by.”
Not far from where the Zeltron and Miraluka women where conversing, the sound of heavy, plodding footsteps heralded the arrival of the festival’s newest guest. Arlo Larosh was dressed in raiments befitting a king: heavy armor made of thick bark bedecked with wilting clovers and petals, and black vines that twisted and stretched into an a tattered cloak. Atop a head of short, curly black hair, he wore a crown of creeping fungi and decaying flowers. In his hand, he held his phrik electro-staff, which was overgrown with vines and other vegetation.
Walking over, Arlo greeted the two women with a wave. “Sup?” he said, using the awkward silence that followed to look around for a second. Seeing the sign that read “Staff Only”, Arlo furrowed his brows. “Uhhh … this doesn’t look like the place where the booze is served.”
<@645466919415054357> <@244244163002892288>
Bon bon bon bon bon biddy-bon bon bon bon bahdum bahdum.
Liran’s fingers loosely held the flight stick as his head bobbed along with the chest pounding music, feeling every note reverberate through him and the cockpit of his starfighter. Having received landing clearance, he was deftly navigating towards his designated pad, toes working the rudders just as he broke out into an aggressive drum pattern on the console.
From outside, any hangar crew could hear the deep vibrations of the bass and it looked like Liran was loudly singing through the transparisteel. Then, the X-wing powered down and silence remained alongside the quieting whine of its engines. With the canopy hissing open, Liran popped off his helmet in grim silence—very much a contrast to moments before—and climbed out. One hand tossled his hair whilst the other clipped his helmet to his belt. A boyish grin graced his face and the freckled human locked down his ride before heading out to the festival proper.
Erinyes stood up and dusted herself off. “Huh. Sneaking does sound fun.”
Then, to Arlo: “Hi! Drinks are down there.” She pointed down, over the side of the crowsnest, where the bar had been built into what looked like the cabin of a pirate ship. “I don’t actually mind people hanging out up here. Kamjin just made me put the sign up for legal reasons, in case a customer fell off and got hurt. He didn’t seem to appreciate it when I reminded him that he controlled the courts and could just not let them sue.”
“Anyway. Hi, I’m Erinyes. Lovely to meet you.” She extended her hand to Arlo.
<@244244163002892288>
“See, that is exactly the line of thinking we need,” Atyiru began, “to make sure everyone has the most fun! And gets married.”
Rather than do something like climb down, the Miraluka focused a moment, her little nose scrunching up her freckles, and then teleported down to in front of the bar. She sat primly, or as primly as a heavily pregnant woman could try to get up onto a stool.
“Hello, friend!” she cheerily greeted Arlo, pretending she wasn’t stuck standing.
Arlo enthusiastically extended a hand to mirror the zeltron’s gesture, and shook with a firm grip. “Likewise! Wait a second,” Arlo blinked. Then, his eyes widened and his grip tightened to a perhaps uncomfortable degree when realization dawned on him. “General Seraine Erinyes Taldrya Ténama? Emissary and the *Founder and CEO of Kasiya Estates Beverage Company?! You’re like my hero!”
He pulled away and placed a hand on his forehead, taking a deep breath. “Okay, okay. Play it cool, Arlo.”
Then, he looked over to Atyiru, who looked like she was having a time. “Yo yo! Hey–did you need help? Congratulations on the little one or ones, by the way. More light for the galaxy!”
<@244244163002892288>
Atty beamed at him, taking the offered hand. “Why, thank you, Mister Cool.” Her pointed ears wiggled. “And thank you! They are quite my little light. His sister and brother are wearing to meet him and so are Papa and I.”
“Hero, eh? First time in a while I’ve been called that.” Erinyes grinned. “Come down to the bar with me, let’s chat.”
She casually leapt off the crowsnest, and sensing Atyiru’s awkwardness, she gave the Miraluka a gentle invisible hand up on to the stool.
<@1056685516441006091>
The shuttle bearing the marks of her Clan landed without issue. The pilot being one of those from the Second Fleet.
“We’ve landed, Warmaster.”
She smiled over her shoulder as the droid gripping the back of her jacket trilled excitedly. “Thank you, Lieutenant. I’d say we won’t be here long, but we probably will. Take some time to enjoy yourself as well.”
The pilot started a little. “But, Warmaster…”
Miho held up a slender finger and touched her lips. “I’m ordering you to enjoy some shore time.”
The pilot smiled and nodded, getting to his feet and saluting smartly. “Yes, Warmaster.”
The small Proconsul laughed softly as she exited the shuttle. She loved the members of the O.U.S.C. as most of them still didn’t know how to really deal with their Warmaster.
That was okay though.
She looked at Pips with a smile. “Let’s see what kind of trouble we can get into this time.”
For once, Pips didn’t voice concerns or criticisms. He trilled happily and took in everything around them as they disembarked.
“I wonder if the pirate queen is here again. It’s her party after all, hm?”
“Have you thought of a name yet? I always wanted a brother or sister, but it wasn’t in the cards.” And maybe it was better that he didn’t, because that meant that his would-be sibling would have had to experience his parents in all their hypocrisy. Dwelling on the thought longer than he’d wanted, Arlo felt the corner of his mouth twitch, nearly dropping the mask of festive merriment that shone on his face like a deep space beacon. “You want anything?” he asked Atyiru, smiling again, “It’s my treat. A gift for the expecting mother.”
Arlo hopped down, as well, exhibiting far more grace than one might have expected from someone of his stature. “Sounds good to me.”
“We’re going up, up, up..” Sang a very happy crimson colored Devaronian as he drummed his hands against the wheel and parked his light freighter in a spot. He heard Xiffon, his pet Cythraul give an accompanied howl and chuckled.
“That’s right Xiff, sing it out.”
After turning off his engine, he unbuckled and got up to change into his costume.
“You are going to a costume party, Jelly?” He remembered Lynn’avel, Tasha’s little daughter, asking him before he was getting ready to take a small vacation break. She was a sweet eight year old, grey colored, youngling that he had the privilege of guarding. He had watched her grow from this sweet baby to now a very inquisitive little girl. Jelly, heh a nickname that stuck because that is what she first called him when she was two years old.
“Yes, Lynna I am going to be headed to a really neat costume party at a fairground. Sorry I can’t take you kid. I would, but your mom said no and I do have to take a break sometimes to enjoy a little time off from guarding you. Don’t worry though, Salni is really fun!”
Lynna made a sad face, but nodded understanding him. “OKay Jelly, but can you dress like that really cool fun guy we saw on the library’s holo video?”
“Sure thing, Lynna. I will even dress Xiff like his spectral companion too.”
He watched as her little eyes lit up. “Really! You would do that for me? Aww, thank you so much Jelly! Please take some pictures for me, pretty please?”
How could he say no to that sweet pleading face. “As you wish, Princess Lynna.” He bowed and headed off.
Snapping back from the memory he laughed. “As you wish.” He wore a forest green sochangui overcoat, adorned with golden blackguard tattoo patterns on the sleeves. Along with it a matching colored jeogori top, some tight forest green pants and his black combat boots. After putting on the forest green gat hat custom made so his horns would stick out, the final touch was a golden chained blue teardrop pendant that Lynna’vel had given him for his birthday.
“All right Xiff, let’s get your costume set up and get you to the pet daycare.” He then made his way down the corridor of his freighter to Xiffan and touched a small button on his collar. A spectral green wispy color projected over the Cythraul, making him appear ghostly.
“Perfect, now let’s get over to that pet daycare they have here so I can enjoy some time and company with others.” He patted the Cythraul’s head and scratched behind his ears as he gave a command whistle. Xiff obediently went to his master’s side as Jelc rose and strode to the exit ramp and made his way to the fairgrounds. As he entered, he stopped to look at the map of the place and saw where the pet daycare center was located. He then with Xiffan obediently following close to his side, made his way over.
The sandaled feet of the newly appointed Shadow Lord - leather straps crossing the legs up to a bronze encircling at mid-calf - carried swiftly over the ground of the festival, taking in the sights but with a clear destination in mind. Atop his head, resting gently just above the slight gray streaks at his temples, was a wreath fashioned of gold and tanzanite gems made to look as if they were the leaves and fruit of the grape vine. Draped over his shoulders was a light lilac cloth, hanging down to below his waist but split open wide enough to reveal his well-toned torso, the symmetry of it marred here and there with the centuries of scars and hard living. At the shoulders themselves the cloth was secured in place by a mantle likewise of grape leaves and grapes - likely synthetic of some sort just for the sake of simplicity, though artfully done to appear as though genuine plants. The gorget of his Mandalorian armor was cleverly concealed within the mantle, though just visible if you knew what to look for. Below, his modesty was mostly maintained beneath a briefs-style swimsuit decorated in the pattern of a medium-large jungle feline.
Behind him, keeping pace but also a respectful distance, was Alex’s ever-reliable companion and steward, Steven. In an uncommon turn, the droid was not befrocked in one of his tailored coats at this time. Rather instead the legs of the KX unit were decorated with furs capped at the bottom with what appeared to be cloven hooves, giving the illusion of the hind legs of a goat or some similar beast. His upper body was uncharacteristically bare, though from his head at each temple were fashioned horns, black segmented and curled tightly along the side of the droid’s head. As the duo approached the facade of a sailing ship’s cabin adorned out to be a bar, the even tones of the butler’s voice could clearly be heard. .
“I understand, sir, that you are dedicated to the aesthetic of this ‘ancient deity of wine and revelry’ you’ve learned of. I just don’t understand why I must also engage in the ritual of camouflage; I’m quite afraid someone may misunderstand my purposes and intent in being present…”
“Lighten up, Steven,” the Mandalorian turned to face his companion, switching from a forward stride to a reverse one without breaking pace in order to address him while still progressing toward the bar. “It is a festival of celebration, part of which involves indulging in the joy of pretending to be someone or something you are not for a bit.” A twinkle shone in Alex’s eye as he continued, wagging a finger toward the lanky form following him. “If anything, it could be seen as poor manners were you not to engage in the common custom!” The glowing eyes of the KX droid seemed to dim and shrink slightly at this retort, causing a belt of laughter to burst forth from Alex as he turned once again just as he crossed the threshold of the bar.
“Now then, it is time to see what special treats may be on offer this fine eve from our wonderful hostess!”
A male Falleen in a ranchhand outfit quickly took notice of Jelc and Xiff, and sauntered over with a wave. “Howdy there, sir! Here to drop your furmily off?” He struggled slightly with the word “furmily”, as thought he was using it under duress.
“That I am.” He grinned to the farmhand as he then whistled to Xiffan who sat obediently at his side. “I am sure Xiffan will be well behaved for you. If you give him a command, just use this whistle afterward and he will obey you.” He replied handing the farmhand a special whistle from his pocket as well as a small information data chip with his emergency contact. He then bent down and pet Xiffan softly between the ears. “Now you go with this gentleman and enjoy yourself, but remember to be nice to the other companions like you that may be here too.” He smiled again as he rose back. “He is all yours for the evening. I will be back later to get him.
Erinyes perked her ears as the Duke arrived. After the tasting session at Kasiya Estates, she would recognise Alex’s bombastic manner anywhere. “Ahoy, blaggard! I’ve got something special for you.” She waved him over to the opposite side of the bar from Arlo and Atyiru, where a silvery safe sat on the countertop. “Well, something special for this event, but you’ll be the first to try it. Your stomach is stronger than most customers’ noses.”
After punching a code into the safe, Erinyes opened it to reveal a tumbler with three layers of liqueur: a light blue creme on the bottom, deep violet syrup in the middle, and a custard-yellow creme on top. It was also decorated with a pretty six-pointed white flower, which somewhat served to cover the scent of the grave that emanated from the surface of the drink.
“Fresh Breath of Death. Have three in a row, say the name three times fast, and you get all three for free.” The fact that she got that entire line out as she slid the drink to Alex meant that Erinyes probably hadn’t attempted her own challenge. Yet.
“Of course, sir. Can Xiffan have goodies while he’s here? We’ve got canine-friendly Harvestide snacks.” The Falleen laughed as the cythraul’s nose went straight to his hip pouch, and he scritched behind Xiffan’s ears. “Looks like he thinks he can have one.”
Jelc chuckled. “I mean if I am gonna be going out grabbing my own treats, he is allowed to have some as well. Long as you stay a good boy, I don’t mind at all.” He nodded to the man.
Liran’s head was idly bouncing as he strolled through the festival grounds. A quiet hum could be heard and every time he came to a stand-still to look at something, his toes could be seen tapping out a beat.
This was pretty cool. So many people to watch, foods to smell, drinks to drink. Festivals were fun.
Crowded though. That part sucked, a lot. To make matters worse, it was like he was cursed to have pods of travellers stopping in the middle of the path directly in his way every quarter cycle. It was rude, for one, but mostly annoying. Really annoying. He was trying to see the things! How else was he going to decide what to buy on—he pulled a few chips out of his pocket, then put it away with a glance—a beggar’s salary?
There might have been plenty of rubberneckers taking up more space than a convoy of bulk freighters in a shipping lane, but Liran would soon discover that they weren’t just rubberneckers.
They were also scavengers.
That is to say, many if not most of the food and drink stalls around had free samples. If the pilot wanted to go full “Priceco run” and fill up on freebies, it was possible. Besides, there were plenty of people at the festival who didn’t look rich but were still able to grab a few different items to try. Perhaps the prices weren’t so bad after all?
“I’m sure he’ll be just fine. C'mon, Xiffan, let’s go make some friends.” The Falleen took a piece of roba jerky out of his pocket and led the suddenly very attentive cythraul away to an area where several other canids were already present, freeing Jelc up to explore the festival.
Giving Alex a chance to enjoy his drink, Erinyes wandered back to Arlo and Atyiru, grinning. “Can the hero get you two anything? No alcohol for Momma, of course.”
<@1056685516441006091> <@244244163002892288>
Where had the platter come from?
That was to be one of the questions of all time, because Liran himself didn’t rightly know. He thought someone had placed it there? Maybe? A like-minded individual? Regardless of the how or why, what remained was what was. That is to say, a plate in hand and a variety of samplers stacked atop.
Liran hadn’t had such bounty since his last trip to a buffet. (Which, as everyone knows, is a time to eat until you hate yourself.)
He seemed to be paying more attention to balancing the stack than anything else, sidestepping groupings as he sought anywhere to plant himself. Hopefully with a table.
Jelc smiled and waved to Xiffan. “Have fun buddy.” He then strode off from the daycare towards the food vendors and picnic tables he had spotted. Whistling a jaunty tune, he could smell sweet, savory, and tantalizing treats just waiting to be tasted. As he neared the picnic tables, Jelc spotted someone with a platter of a variety of foods.
“Oh that looks so good.”
Mine. The word hissed in his thoughts as Liran instantly curled around his plate and flashed too-green eyes towards Jelc.
Within the span of a blink it was gone and Liran was relaxed once more. He was good. He wasn’t fighting over food. All good. Super good. How’re you?
“It is,” the man remarked, grabbing another piece. He kept his voice quiet and calm, but still heard over the crowd. “Quite the variety.”
“The strongest alcohol you have, ma'am,” he said with a smile, “in a large pitcher or flagon. Or a bucket. I’m not picky.”
Jelc was surprised a moment, but chuckled. “Doing pretty well. No worries I would never dream of taking someone else’s plate of goods. Just wondering where you had found this bounty of deliciousness.” He replied. “Cause I would love to grab a plate of my own.”
“We had them picked out for our first two, but this little one hasn’t told us his yet…” the Miraluka said to Arlo, beaming at him. When Erinyes came back around and with the Lonto’s offer, Atty made grabby hands in Erin’s direction, her long pointed ears folding back plaintively. “Do you have mustard back there?”
<@645466919415054357>
[Somewhere, on Canto Bight, a changeling felt the sudden urge to call a knobber a bloody hypocrite.]
“I bet it’ll be a great name, whatever it will be,” he returned the smile. He tilted his head when she mentioned mustard. It must’ve been those pregnancy cravings he’d heard about. “Just mustard? No chicken nugs or anything?”
“No,” the woman said with sudden firmness, then back to her sweet, pleading tone, “mustard and… Oh that sweet red syrup! And pickles. Maybe a little pureed. But not too much! Chunky, you see? But not so much it drowns out the mustard. Perhaps half the glass, bowl, whatever is easier, of mustard. Oh and whipped cream!”
<@645466919415054357>
“Well, we have different kinds of strong, depending on what you’re looking for. Flavoured, or no? Do you want to be able to come back for more? Are you willing to sign a waiver relieving us of legal responsibility in the event of death, injury, or property damage?” She pointed to a display on the bar’s back wall, with sheets of flimsiplast stacked below it.
Then, to Atyiru: “Ma'am, I hope your husband knows he’s married an exceptional woman. That’s quite the concoction.” She grabbed a tumbler, a bottle of grenadine, a whipped cream container, a cutting board, some pickles, and a knife. The knife telekinetically minced the pickles as Erinyes added half a tumbler’s worth of mustard. “How much syrup would you like?”
<@244244163002892288>
Suddenly remembering the starship fuel masquerading as alcohol that Hosta let him try a few weeks earlier, Arlo figures that drinking something that requires him to sign a waiver probably isn’t the best idea. “Maybe I’ll try the really strong stuff next time,” he says, tapping a finger to his chin while thinking, “do you have any wookiee drinks? I spent some time in an ecovillage on Kashyyyk for a few months. Those fur balls can party.”
Arlo smiles weakly, clearly fighting back a sudden wave of nausea. “Quite the combination.”
Alex had been staring at the concoction in front of him for a bit now. The fact that the layers had stayed distinctly separated even as the glass was slid down the bar to him was impressive - and more than a little distressing. If anything, it clearly meant that it was going to be a drink with texture and that could only spell trouble. The scent wafting from the upper layer was not unfamiliar to the Mandalorian warrior; it smelled of death and rotten meat, though a slight smile twisted the corner of his mouth since he recognized the scent and texture of that yellowish creme for what it was.
One? No problem. I can certainly manage that. The only real question is if I can handle three… His hand grasped the glass and raised it high.
“I suppose I would do a disservice not only to my own reputation but that of the legend whose guise I wear this night if I did not rise to the challenge!” He tilted his glass toward Erinyes in salute. “K’oyacyi!” He declared before the glass reached his lips and was drained at an impressively steady pace.
As they slid down Alex’s gullet, the layers of the drink became clear. The deceptive light blue was crème de menthe, in all its overpowering mouthwashy glory. If Alex was familiar with the mythology of the culture behind his costume, he would recognise that “Menthe” had been a lover of the god of the dead.
The second, syrupy purple layer was a rosemary reduction, of all things—another herb associated with death, but also an ingredient in certain types of dessert. In fact, when combined with the durian, the drink was almost the flavour of a mint-rosemary custard. The herbs’ combined power managed to hold off the overwhelming fruit, in taste if not in scent.
Of course, it did have texture, but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. And being a drink Erinyes invented, the alcohol burn was a texture all its own.
Atty’s ears wiggled happily and she clapped and bounced in her seat.
“He knows I’m very exceptionful,” she said cheerily, and then, “Let’s say…a bumble’s worth!”
Liran’s lips worked back and forth as he visibly thought something over. Finally, he slapped his hands against the table and stood up. “Very well. We shall begin the quest henceforth and refresh mine own sustenance and deliver unto you a bounty most grand.”
His multi-hued locks swung freely as the Human tossed back a few more appetizers and prepared his platter. First, they would need to get this newcomer a plate of their own. Secondly, run the gauntlet. The delicous, delicious gauntlet.
He paused.
“Oh, I’m Liran, by the way,” the Human declared and extanded a hand politely towards Jelc.
Erinyes poured the syrup and pickles into the tumbler of mustard and blended them with a transparisteel swizzle stick, then added a… well, she had no idea what a bumble was, but Atyiru didn’t seem like the type to do things halfway. So she added a generous mountain of whipped cream that probably still wouldn’t match the Miraluka’s saccharine manner, then slid the towering tumbler over to her. “Enjoy!”
For Arlo, Erinyes glanced over her shoulder at the bar. “Hmm… I’ve got a bottle of tame-strength cortyg brandy. They don’t sell the wild-strength stuff offworld, and I haven’t had enough demand to make it worth smuggling. If it’s potency you’re looking for, though, I’ve also got plenty of Kasiya Estates offerings. We collaborated with the Herald to make pirate-strength Storm-Tossed Dark Rum not long ago, with a ton of molasses flavour. If you’re thinking something fruity and eye-watering, our tihaar would be perfect.”
<@1056685516441006091>
Jelc raised an eyebrow at the very antiquated speech, but then smiled warmly shaking the brightly colored haired man’s hand. Who was he to question a man of action, after all it was a chance to see a bit more of the fair and company was always nice.
“Sounds like a noble quest, I would be more than happy to assist you Liran, I am Jelc. Let us proceed forth!”
Oh good, Jelc was playing along with the bit. That was great. Would’ve sucked if he hadn’t gotten a reaction at all. Or worse…Jelc thought that was how Liran actually talked. He fought off the shudder that threatened at the thought.
Either way, free samples called. The most noble of quests, indeed.
“You need one of these,” Liran said, giving his platter a shake and a wiggle of his brows. “We hunt.”
“Right, always have your weapon at the ready to strike.” He nodded as he sauntered over to the platter dispensers. He gave a tip of his gat hat to one of people there setting out more and winked as he snatched one. “Thank you kindly.” He smiled and with a slight bow, he dashed back to Liran. He chuckled to himself as he felt silly a bit, but hey it was all good fun. He leaned against a lampost as he surveyed the “free samples” vendor tents.
“So Liran, what is our plan of attack at these free samples available? Am I going straight for it? covering you or providing some distraction?”
“Hmmm.” Arlo strokes his chin while considering the options Erinyes presented. “Why not one pitcher of each? Two of those are new to me and I’m not going to pass on the opportunity to expand my liquor palette. Bring it on!”
With a wave of her hand, two pitchers floated up from the back of the bar, along with four full bottles: two of rum and two of tihaar. Careful not make swamp water by accident, she removed the stoppers and poured the bottles into their respective pitchers.
“Would you like glasses, or are you going to drink them straight?” She grinned.
Atty just sat there humming happily and kicking her feet while she blatantly ate mouthfuls of whipped cream face-first, and otherwise sipped between ‘bites" at her “drink,” within which said whipped cream was actively melting down and curdling where it mixed with the acid of the various other ingredients.
A heavy growl escaped Morgan’s teeth as she readjusted the damned spandex bodysuit chaffing her crotch for the eleventh time. The blue and white sailor outfit she had chosen was a bad idea in hindsight. She noted she’d have to talk to her tailor to make a better, more comfortable one.
A fairly risque blue dress covered barely enough, and the red ribbons on her blue collar and the small of her back were a nice touch though. The red knee high boots were just as uncomfortable, despite being perfectly tailored to the original costume from the holodrama. The skin-colored tights where there as well, just barely noticible, as was the moon tiara and necklace.
She huffed as the fabric set into a more comfortable place. Already annoyed enough by the suit, the Herald was just hoping to have a relaxing evening at a lovely party.
She stepped off as the turbolift doors slid open, her best smile ready and… saw Atyiru. “Nope.” She said to herself, turning on her heel. “Karkin’ nope. No patience for this. Maybe next time.” She entered the lift and, without another word, closed the doors. Maybe a good raid was in order.
Arlo’s eyes light up when he sees the pitchers. “Yeah, that’s the good stuff, alright,” he says with a grin, leaning forward with his thick forearms pressed against the smooth surface of the bar counter. “No need to waste the glasses. Thanks.”
He turns to look at the woman sitting next to him and asks, “So, you live on Arx?”
<@244244163002892288>
“Oh, no, no,” the woman replied, loosing a sudden belch flavored like tuna salad ice cream dreams before she pointed up towards…no where, actually.
(Normally this was the part where Marick would gently turn her in the right direction, but).
“That big swuper scwawy all intimidating business-evil tower, though? My husband used to work there. And I’ve been there several times. Leading wars, resurrecting Evants, you know.” She flapped her hand. “We live in the Dajorra system. Capital is Selen, lovely tropical world, occasionally on fire, we each used to run it! And we’ve opened an orphanage there. Just ignore the statue of me, nobody asked for that. Now we’ve got our own little tea shop and apothecary slash free clinic slash droid rights center on Ol'Val. What about you, Mister Arlo?”
Alex made sure to drain the last drop from the glass, starting to feel a little bit of the effects of the drink but far from strong enough to matter to the experienced quaffer. Rather than be rude enough to signal from where he sat, seeing as this was a more makeshift affair than a traditional bar, he came up from the stool he was sat on and strode down the bar toward where Erinyes was now attending to Arlo and Atyiru. A casual nod of recognition to Atyiru as he did so - he had not interacted with her much, all told, but it was common enough to see her around important events at Selen and Ol'val.
“Begging my pardon for the interruption,” he casually drawled as he set the empty glass down on the countertop and a mischievous smirk crawled across his features. “I believe, great Madam Hero Hostess, there was the implication of a challenge involving three of these, yes? Was that idle marketing banner, or are we able to throw down the gauntlet this fine evening?”
Seeing the pitchers now filled nearly to the brim in front of Arlo, the Mandalorian warrior smiled approvingly.
“Now that is how it is done! Assuming you do not have a true buyca for the tihaar, of course.”
<@1056685516441006091> <@244244163002892288>
“I’d never stop someone from taking up a drinking challenge,” Erinyes confirmed. The cooler on the other end of the bar opened again, and all near Alex were assaulted with the smell of rotting socks. “Round two,” she said, as she set the multi-layered drink down in front of the Mandalorian.
“You know, you could use this as training for your younglings. Put a few drops of this scent into the air filters of their helmets to get them used to the smell of battlefields.”
Jelc smirked as he could see his friend had been occupied, it was go time. Like a bolt of lightning he raced to the food vendors and began to snatch up every single free sample he could find on his platter. “Thank you kindly, I just love trying new things!” He would say delightedly to the vendor before running off to another stall. With his plate now full of goodies, Jelc decided to head over to the bar for a drink to wash down his victory.
As he strode over to the bar, he could already see what seemed to be a man having a drinking contest of sorts. Smiling widely, he sat himself down at a table close to observe as he thought about what he was gonna get to drink.
Iphis arrived at the festival in her usual manner: as though she owned it and was vaguely disappointed with the state it had devolved into. Nevertheless, she had quarry to hunt, and this was its natural habitat. She scanned the crowd, looking for familiar faces, and did see one. Unfortunately, it was engaged in conversation with a familiar helmet. But at least that one would be familiar with her prey. And thus she approached the bar.
“Emissary,” she nodded. “I–” she choked on the sentiment for a second before turning her olfactory nerves off. “Please tell me that is not a ‘PSL.’”
“What? Oh, stars, no. This interesting concoction is called Fresh Breath of Death, and Alex is in the process of torturing himself by having three in a row before trying a tongue twister.” She examined Iphis, head tilted. “Have we met before?”
Wiggling ears perked in that direction, ✨ listening intently ✨ .
“Nah, Iph,” Alex held the glass up in a salute before he slammed back the drink. “That was my second ‘Fresh Breath of Death’ of the day. Slightly less foul, I think.” He shook his head a little bit to throw off the lingering sensations of the second drink. It was a bit smoother this time, though it was hard to tell if that was from things being dulled from the first.
“As far as training younglings,” Alex set the glass down on the bar and smiled, “would be a worthwhile thought I suppose, if I had any. Closest I have got is no warrior, and I would not want her to be. She is currently pursuing her degree in law at Corellia University on a full-ride athletics scholarship, and I could not be prouder. …Not that I could not have paid her tuition regardless of scholarship opportunities.” As he finished up, his eyes headed toward the cooler indicating his interest in finishing off the challenge - one way or another.
“No, I’ve only recently been back in Brotherhood space.” Iphis offered her hand and a smile to the remarkably voluptuous Zeltron. “Iphis Melinoe. I would warn you: nobody ever got rich betting that an Arconan wouldn’t put something in its mouth.” She gave Alex a cursory side eye. “Speaking of which, congratulations on your promotion, Shadow Lord.”
Pause.
“Well, she’s not wrong,” the Arconae on the other side of the bar admitted.
Arlo sits, sipping his drink while listening to the conversations unfolding around him, eyes darting back and forth between interlocutors. “So, Arconans have an oral fixation?” he asks while scratching his head.
“Depends who you ask, really,” Atty stage-whispered towards him aside her hand. “Fixations aplenty! Quite lovely, that, don’t you think? To find such joy from something. I think it is remarkable, to be something, at least.”
Jelc about choked on his food at the comments as he watched the new person arrive. He usually didn’t eavesdrop a lot on fairgoer conversations, but this was just gold. He tried hard not to stare at Erinyes, Alex, Iphis and the Arconae while he kept on eating his food. Satisfied, he leaned back a moment before patting his stomach. “Whew those were some good samples.” He gave a devilish smirk as he took off his gat hat and set it to the side while running his fingers through his medium length blue black hair, giving it a soft tousle. Before his violet eyes focused on Atty and Arlo.
“You know, that’s a good point. Better to be something rather than nothing, I always say.”
He shrugged. “I don’t really say that, but you know.”
A pause, accompanied by unease feeling crawling up his spine like electric tendrils. “You ever feel like you’re being watched?”
“Oh, all the time! There’s eyes all around us. Like in your head. Very watchful, you know?” She smiled at him, reaching out to boop his nose with one sticky finger. “But I do believe what you’re actually referring to is that young man there whom I’m inviting to the conversation. Hiya!”
A bright wave was sent Jelc’s direction.
Somehow, even the wave was sticky.
Jelc felt a sweet calming aura hit him. He laughed at Atty waving at him and stood up with his plate. He sauntered over with confidence and set it down gently next to Atty. Then he gave a very charming deep bow, extending his hands down, before coming up with devilish smirk and wink to both Arlo and Atty.
“Well hello there! Pleasure to meet such a gorgeous lady with sticky hands and a rather dashing man. My name is Jelc Rovint, and what may I call you delightful folks?”
Miho looked around rhe festival grounds, enjoying the sights of people enjoying themselves, games being played, junk foods being sampled, drinks being imbibed.
“Well, Pips. Looks like this is going to be a lot of fun. Wouldn’t you say?”
The small droid seemed to sway from his spot on her back, trilling softly. Even he seemed to be enjoying the season.
The crowd around her ebbed and flowed with Miho drifting along a current of happy humanity. She almost reveled in those emotions by themselves as she made her way towards the bar which held the primary attraction for her. The new treats the Emissary put together for such occasions.
Entering the bar, Miho took of her hat and sauntered - well her idea of a saunter anyway - to the bar and took a seat. Pips jumped off her back and onto the countertop.
With a grin, Miho placed her hat on top of his head. “Hold that for me, wouldja?”
Erinyes seemed a bit busy with the newest Shadow Lord. It was alright, she was content to wait her turn.
Just then Atty stood up her face showing no emotion as she walked away from the table. “I have to go, nice to meet you Jelc.”
“Oh..okay well take care.” Grabbing his tray of food and drink, Jelc spotted someone new entering into the bar and gave them a polite wave and smile.
“Two down, one to go. When I’m back and you’re ready, we can test your enunciation.” Erinyes passed Alex the third foul-smelling drink, then slid over to the pint-sized… whatever Miho was dressed as, the player forgot to look it up. “Well, hello there!”
<@227653769842655233>
Kalen yawned. It had been a long day in his “KC Brewery”, this was his first stop on the tour unvieling his newest business idea.
They had done a test run, on his idea for a Pantalomin Peach Cider after thebfirst major crop, and after some advice from master distillers at the Korada Monastery, they had produced 14 cases. Which turned into 112 six packs of the both sweet and sour cider.
As he noticed the foot traffic in his area of stellar began to die down, Kalen started doing the accounting. He had sold nearly half his stock so far, he might not need the 3rd leg of his distribution tour after all. It had only cost him about 350 credits to make the stuff and another few hundred in fuel flying it out here.
“Hey, Jedi guy…can I, hick, get another 6 pack from you. That’s good stuff there.” An inebriated Toskan asked.
“Sure, I’ll give you our closing time discount. 15 credits.” Kalen bent over to retrieve a 6 pack and as he straightened up and turned to face what he thought was a customer, he was facing a blaster pistol.
Kalen sighed, nodded his head sharply to the right as the blaster went flying out of the would be theifs hand. With his right hand he slowly pinched his thumb and forefinger together which sharply closed the Toskans windpipe.
“Sure you don’t just wanna buy some cider?” Kalen asked politely.
The Toskan then nodded his head up and down affirmatively.
“That’ll be full price now. 25 credits.” Kalen said as he released the man’s windpioe from his his force control and reached out with his left hand and pulled the man’s blaster into it.
After the man dropped the credits in the table, Kalen returned the guys blaster with the 6 pack.
Reiden left his ship behind as he approached the fairgrounds. The usual autumn smells reached him, as did those of the food available. Leaves in an assortment of colors crunched under his feet as he walked and a smile crossed his face, glad to be able to experience all of it. It was good to be on Arx for some fun and recreation instead of for a meeting or to review whatever new intelligence reports that had come in. He’d even booked a room at The Flitz so that he didn’t have to travel back to the Caperion system. He was fine with extended periods on his ship. In fact, he was used to it and had made sure the interior was suited for such purposes. But the simple truth was that it just felt better to be on the ground and in a nice bed - and not having the constant thrum of a ship in the background didn’t hurt, either.
He spotted food stands along the way, trying to make a mental note of all the places that caught his attention. His first stop, however, might be the bar. That was always good for relaxing and having fun, even observing things, as he’d learned over the years.
Just as Kalen and D were loading up the repulsor sled and getting ready to head back to the ship, a pair of well dressed Twi'leks came walking up to his stall.
“Hi, are you from the KC Brewery by any chance?” The Green skinned one said.
“Uh, yeah, hi, I’m Kalen. What can I help you with?” Kalen replied as he stopped loading the sled and went over and shook their hands.
“I’m Shaav and this Jula. One of our neices came back the festival today a few bottle of your cider. We absolutely love the stuff, its source and sweet, dry and tangy, all at the same time. We own a few nightclubs on Arx and in a few neighboring systems. We love to stock your product.”
“Oh, thats awesome. Perfect, I mean yeah. Like how much were you looking for you think?” Kalen said, excited that people were liking the stuff.
“We were think maybe, 40 cases a month?”
That was almost triple what they had produced with this first run. And he had just ordered the first batch of 30 new trees on spec, without even securing the farming rights to the plot of land that his old Lancer class freighter was sitting in the middle of.
“Oh, thats great, if we’re a bit low on stock right now but, we should have a more consistent product flow going within the next few months. Uh, I got 5 cases right now if you wants those and then we can out you in a for that bigger order in a month or 2 if that ok?”
“Sounds good Kalen, yeah, we’ll take those 5 cases for sure. How much?” Shaav said.
“Uh, pfff, how about, 175 a case.” Kalen blurted out, retail was 200 each, but for a big fish customer like this Kalen was willing to give an first time buyers discount.
“Excellent, cheap stuff too.” He pulled out wad of credits and counted out the amount.
‘Sith! Left a bunch of credits on th table then there, I should probanly research liqour pricing a bit more before I start signing the bigger deals.’ Kalen thought to himself.
“D, unload the sled and places 5 cases of cider on it would ya?”
“Yes Master.” The 3PO dutifully
Began doin as Kalen asked.