To get things moving a bit quicker, (hopefully) I thought I'd try my had at writing a short intro to the party. Ally, Shaun and myself have also wrote a scene with our characters, and once that's finished off someone will post it up here too no doubt.
05 Zeta 75
Orsiri Palace, Plateau City
“Let the fun begin.”
Zara smirked to herself as she surveyed the arrival of her guests with a satisfied air of superiority – her features ably disguised behind an elaborate sapphire peko-peko mask.
She rubbed her gloved hands together thoughtfully. If all went according to plan tonight, then she would finally have the heir to the fallen house of Archell exactly where she wanted him. And that was her plan, regardless of the delusions of her guests whom believed this entire charade to be for the benefit of the Empire’s newest attack dog, Zod Severus. A masquerade ball would offer the perfect opportunity to draw Corin out into the open, one that he surely couldn’t refuse.
“My dear Duke,” Zara murmured quietly to herself as she continued to peruse the arrival of her guests. "You should never have returned to Vorgrell, but I will delight in making your last moments as agonising and torturous as possible.”
“Your Highness,” said Lady Arella as she glided noiselessly to the princess’ side, standing behind her in the shadows. “All your instructions have been carried out, everything is in place. How… how can you be sure that he’ll show up?”
“Corin Archell?” Zara smiled slyly. “Because he’s a noble and he’s arrogant. Even if he suspects a trap it still won’t prevent him from coming, he has too high opinion of himself and he underestimates me. It’s his ultimate downfall.”
Arella bowed her head to one side in assent, her eyes roaming the exquisitely decorated ballroom that was rapidly filling with guests. “Looks like your little protégé is causing quite a stir,” smiled Arella, nodding in the direction of the young noblegirl Arica Odari-Mosora.
“Ah, yes,” smirked Zara, biting her lower lip thoughtfully. A crowd of handsome men surrounded the girl who blushed furiously and kept her eyes lowered even when someone addressed her. Even so they were enraptured with her, a fact that Zara took as a personal compliment to her own fine taste. When had anyone ever paid the girl any attention at her other parties? Oh no, this was all her own doing, there was no mistake about that.
Zara pitied the girl; she was so naïve she thought every one to be as good and virtuous as herself. It would be a life lesson, Zara philosophised smugly. Using her to bring down the House of Bertrayn would teach her that the real world was a harsh and cut-throat place. Really, she would be doing the girl a favour.
“Keep an eye on her,” Zara instructed her handmaiden as she turned, heading in the direction of a group of Imperial Officers. She was the hostess after all, and even if she despised the Empire she still had to play the part of their willing and loyal collaborator. “I think Miss Odari-Mosora could be in for quite an interesting night.”
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Zara's Having A Ball! (Round Robin)
Since I was on a roll, I decided to post up my solo effort for the begining of the ball. Feel free to interject if you want to (or can find a good space) or just continue from the end of the above post, I don't really want this section to come directly after the intro.
Garim coolly regarded the assembled revellers from the perimeter of the room. Amongst Zara’s guests he could make out several familiar faces even when disguised behind their ornate masks. The dukes and lords of neighbouring systems had been orbiting Vorgrell for the past two days – as always, Princess Orsiri’s soiree’s were the talk of the galaxy. Rubbing shoulders with the nobles were those generals and commanders of the galactic Empire stationed on Vorgrell, including the imposing figure of Zod Severus – looking about as comfortable in the opulent surroundings of Orsiri Palace as he might onboard the deck of a Starcruiser in mid-battle.
Across the room sat Arica, surrounded by a crowd of young men all vying for her attention and hanging on her every word. If it had been Zara’s intention to secure a suitor for the young girl by dressing her so provocatively, then she must be assured success. Bound up in that snug-fitting sheath of scarlet silk, Arica looked both beautiful and alluring, and yet at the same time shy and reticent – it was a potent combination.
Even so, it made Garim feel physically sick as the crowd of potential beau’s fawned over her, fetching her glasses of punch and plates of assorted delicacies. Not one of them had ever paid Arica an ounce of attention at any of Zara’s other parties, in fact they usually went out of their way to avoid her – the quiet, bookish girl who liked to sit on her own and read. But tonight, just because of the way she looked in that creation of Zara’s – all bare flesh and painfully accentuated curves. All because of a few meters of nicely arranged cloth they decided to bestow their attention upon her. Arica for her part seemed reluctant and uncomfortable but nevertheless she laughed shyly at their jokes and smiled demurely, though never imparting her affections to any one more than the rest.
Despite her reluctance, Garim felt the muscles in his body stiffen as Arica rose to her feet, her hand safely encased within that of a young male in a white Edan Tiger mask. Together they walked to the dance floor where the other couples were gathered, already engaged in a lively jig. Garim watched as the man placed his hand upon her waist and drew her in closer so that their bodies were almost touching. Again Garim felt his heart burn with jealousy and a deep, bitter pain rise from the pit of his stomach. This was her world, a world of masquerade balls and elaborate dances, of costumes and expensive clothing, of custom and courting. A world to which he was forever excluded by the misfortune of his birth.
With a controlled sigh, Garim turned away, weaving a path through the crowds of lords and ladies. He had work to do.
At the far corner of the ballroom stood Oldrak and the Seventh Duchess of Cambrielle, her Ladyship Safita Kizor. The Duchess preened the elaborate white curls of her wig as they talked; her own hair having long since thinned into a fluffy web that barely covered her withered scalp.
“They simply have no sense of propriety,” she sniffed, her tight, snooty voice rasping on the ends of her words. “It’s the main reason why the entire race should be exterminated, or at the very least ushered into a less visible form of servitude. To think that Zara has one of those Twi’lek whores lined up as entertainment tonight… it simply isn’t right, Oldrak, it really isn’t.”
“Calm yourself Safi,” chuckled Oldrak, sipping his Corellian Brandy. “Twi’lek’s have their place, just like the others, it’s when they try to ascend to our ranks that one must see fit to take action. Like our Imperial friends… say what you like about their methods, at least they get the job done.”
“Hmmm, like Lord Segov over there,” smirked the Duchess, flicking her head in the direction of Arica. “You’re right about her, Oldrak,” she crooned as the two of them watched the young girl dance with the son of Daror Varize. “She’s perfectly sweet and, if I’m not mistaken, ripe for the… plucking.” Safita cackled suggestively, sliding her glasses back up her nose. “But if you have any sense you’ll forget about waiting and do it soon.”
Oldrak drained his brandy dry and took another puff from his cigar, his eyes lazily following Arica as she danced. “What do you mean?”
“She’s in bloom,” said the Duchess flatly, “tonight she is in full bloom and every man in this room can sense it. If I were you, darling Oldrak. I’d lay claim to your prize and take that flower sooner rather than later – before someone else beats you to it. Like young Lord Varize there…”
For a moment and with the kind of irrational jealousy that only a spurned lover might feel, Oldrak scowled and turned his focus to Segov. He quietly observed the manner in which he held his niece, his hand upon her waist, the proximity of their bodies – only just touching as they danced.
“How is dear Irina these days anyway?” asked the Duchess with a sly grin, “still stubbornly refusing to shuffle off this mortal coil?”
Oldrak smirked, partly hiding his amusement by taking another puff on his cigar. “Irina… Irina has always been a devoted wife and she continues to be so whether it is to my choosing or not.”
“How patient of you not to have resorted to more direct methods,” grinned Safita, sliding her arm through Oldrak’s. She of course knew of the deal between her friend and Morden Odari-Mosora and approved entirely. Oldrak needed an heir… but more than that he needed a young, pliable girl like Arica, someone he could mould into the perfect wife, someone who would never defy or question him. Safita had liked Irina but she had always been overly opinionated.
“There’s still time, my dear Safi,” said Oldrak as he stubbed out the remainder of his cigar.
The Duchess smiled and gave him a quick squeeze about the arm. “Just remember, if you want to claim her virginity for your own you might want to do it sooner rather than later.” She turned to Oldrak, her smile widening. “Irina never needs to know…”
******
“…and then there’s the summer palace in Corona, which of course I’ll inherit from my father in the fullness of time, the locale is sublime and thanks to rising property prices in the area, the value has more than doubled in the last five years…”[/i]
Arica smiled and nodded while inwardly she struggled to stifle a yawn as she continued to dance with the young, yet clearly dull Lord Segov Varize. Though their brief time together had almost bored her to tears, what with Varize’s constant boasting and totting up of his future assets, it had at least proven one of her long held beliefs to be correct. Beautiful people aren’t necessarily always interesting people.
In fact Arica had to wonder if she was having quite the fun time she’d imagined herself to be, and if she hadn’t enjoyed herself much more at Zara’s parties when she’d been quietly tucked away reading one of her books. It was true that, for a few brief minutes she had quite liked being the centre of attention, sat in the midst of a dozen handsome suitors all desperate to win one of her smiles. It had been like something out of the pages of one of her novels, she was the enigmatic Ruby O’Lara at the Ten Elm barbecue surrounded by a brood of beau’s all rushing to bring her favours.
But, as Arica was quickly discovering, real life was very different from the tales in her romantic novels.
”…I’ll have to take you there some time, I could show you my vast collection of aquatic vehicles, or, if you’d prefer something a little more… feminine I could show you my father’s superior collection of oil paintings – garish things really…” Varize sniffed slightly, “…compositions of flowers and farm houses and the like. You may find them quaint, though…”
Arica smiled faintly, though she had the feeling that maybe Sergov was insulting her in an indirect manner. It didn’t matter though… had Arica been romantically inclined towards the young prince his slight may have hurt, as it was she would have given everything in the galaxy to be here dancing with Captain Morris instead.
Zara's Having A Ball! (Round Robin)
From a far corner, near the corridor leading to the kitchens, Daell watched as well. As usual she had been hired to give a performance tonight, and as usual she had been allowed to roam the palace almost at will. It had its uses to be friendly to the guards and crew.
Daell moved forward into the ballroom with a light step on her bare foot, her purple eyes scanning the crowed from behind her full mask, beautifully made with red feathers and clear crystals. She was covered from head to toe with a wine red velvet cape, its hood hiding her lekku and its ample folds concealing her dancer’s attire. That way she could mingle with the guests a little, at least for a while.
The Princess looked radiant, as always, clad in a shimmering lavender blue dress, lavishly embroidered with silver thread and jewels. It complemented beautifully the intricate mask she was wearing and the gorgeous fan hanging from her wrist. She was receiving her guests, all false greetings and deceiving smiles – the bitch. Lady Arella stood a couple of steps behind her, the customary spot for the watch dog, her only concession to the night’s masquerade a black satin half-mask.
Daell walked carelessly towards the balconies overlooking the gardens, catching bits of conversations here and there. The word Twi’lek reached her ears and she smiled at the outraged tone of the old crow speaking. *Baron Bertrayn, how do you do?* she greeted in her mind as she delayed for a second near them, trying to catch why was the fuss about. She frowned at their following words, seemingly the Baron was about to get a new mistress. Well, why should it surprise her? Those noble types were always looking for a new thrill or other. She thought about who the unfortunate girl could be, although, stealing a glance at the man’s handsome face, only partially obscured by a simple silver half-mask, she wondered.
Shaking those thoughts away, Daell moved forward until she reached the wall. There she stood near a marble column, discreetly glancing the dancers. There was a lot to watch.
Zara's Having A Ball! (Round Robin)
First part: the arrival of Lianna and Cael. :)
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Lianna Merrol could scarcely believe what they were about to do, as the repulsorlift came to a halt near the masquerade ball of Zara Orsiri. While it wasn’t the first time that she’d infiltrated such an event while on the hunt, it was the first time that she had done so with someone else. Closing her eyes momentarily, she steadied her breathing.
Cael was the first to step out, offering his hand to her, as he had instructed her to. Smilling, she accepted his hand as he conveniently helped her down. Nobody would think twice about the pair: they seemed to strike a balance between showiness of the wealthiest nobles, and the blandness of everyday dress, though the masks that covered the top of their faces made it obvious where they were going.
They arrived at the gates, the guards seeming to take extra time to run the identification through the system. For a moment, Cael was afraid that his work wouldn't hold. “Come on, hurry it up, will you?” he said in his best imitation of annoyed Aristocracy. Lianna pretended to stifle a little giggle, well aware that she was probably the cause of the delay, as while she wasn't quite dressed extremely provocative, she was showing just enough to grab interest.
The guards moved them from the entrance to the main ball room quickly and efficiently. It was fairly obvious that Zara didn't want her guests to feel rushed, but neither did she want to give them the opportunity to wander off. For the ballroom itself, the main throng had already started to arrive.
Lianna took in everything that she could, without being obvious. While her mask made it difficult to see everything without turning her head, at least in the doorway, they passed as new arrivals trying to figure out where everything was. “Your Grace,” she said to Cael, already falling into the cover story, “if you do not mind, I think I shall get something to drink.”
Cael turned to her and nodded, catching her meaning: she wanted to check the place out, to find the best way to slip out. “Of course, my Lady. Come and find me afterwords.” He made a show of kissing the back of her hand, feeling more than a little silly when doing so, but at the same time enjoying the play ritual. Feeling a pang of interest as she moved off, he slipped into the crowd and began to mingle.
Zara's Having A Ball! (Round Robin)
I thought I'd take a page out of Dave's book and try to write something for Corin seeing as Matt's not had time and also because I think most of us are just waiting to get the ball over and done with. Anyway here is a small intro, I don't know what Matt had in mind for Corin but I think he said something about him just going to the ball to have a scout around rather than make a second attempt on Zara's life. If Matt wants to change or do away with this he can do, it's just something I'd had a go at so that we can keep the pace moving.
Corin surveyed the room from the balcony overhead. Gaining entry to Zara’s ball had been easy once he’d incapacitated one of the other guests, stealing their pass-card invitation and costume in the process. Poor Prince Gallard, he would be spending the evening bound and gagged in one of Orsiri Palace’s many storage rooms until some cleaning droid eventually discovered him in the early hours of the morning.
Looking down at the assembled guests, Corin’s eyes fixed on the Princess and her handmaiden, his face hardening behind his full mask. He had come so close last time, so close to ending her wretched existence and finally achieving revenge for his family and friends. His failure still rankled, only made bearable because he now knew the truth about Zayen. He might be imprisoned but he was still alive, and with the information he’d managed to lift from the Inquisitor’s ship he was finally in a position to do something about the former.
That at least had made his failure worthwhile.
Corin’s grip on the railing tightened as he watched Zara move about her guests, her gracious smiles hiding her true, malignant nature. How he would love to squeeze his hands about her treacherous throat, to throttle the very life out of her. Considering what she’d done to them all, it was the least she deserved.
But no. This was not the time or the place. Though Corin was not best known for his self-discipline even he could see that any assassination attempt tonight would fail, the security measures had been increased threefold not including the extra measures that the various other houses had also seen fit to implement. Besides, he wasn’t so stupid as to underestimate Zara a second time, he had done that once and both Myklos and Zayen had paid the price.
Corin sighed. He’d waited so far; he could wait a little longer and in the meanwhile he planned to take full opportunity of such an event. With so many guests he would be able to move about easily and survey the new security measures. It wasn’t revenge, but it was a step in the right direction.
He drank down his glass of bubblezap and lay the empty vessel on the balustrade before vanishing into the crowds.