Vyra Silara
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A bird without its wings is a low and tragic thing.
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Post by Vyra Silara on Jun 18, 2023 12:37:29 GMT -8
Attention: --- Location: Theed Royal Palace, Royal Reliquary (Artifact Room) NPCs Involved: Handmaidens Rhiani, Eirene, Syrsha
Even in ruins, the Royal Palace Reliquary was pure beauty. The racket of heavy maintenance droids and construction crews bouncing from granite floors to towering ceilings was deafening, even through Handmaiden Eirene’s thick hood. It was an unwelcome chaos, given the head-splitting ache behind her eyes today. Clearly, it was time to get her combat implants checked over. In the safety of the shadows across her face, she scowled, fighting the urge to tug the fabric closer to her ears, and instead tried to focus on simply moving faster past the broken statues and empty displays. Beside her, Handmaiden Rhiani did her best to look like she wasn’t struggling to keep up, her velvet robes nearly frothing around her feet. Where Eirene was swift and darkly energetic, Rhiani was measured and tranquil, a fact both of them had been struggling to harmonize since their service began, though not for lack of trying, at least on Rhiani’s part. They didn’t have to look far for the Queen. Engrossed in discussion with a handful of designers and their restoration teams, Vyra was busy shifting around the web of schematics spread across one of the pop-up tables, carefully checking each blueprint against the few preserved images left of the grand statues that had once stood proudly throughout the Artifact Room. Behind her in the shadow of a pillar, still as a sculpture herself, stood Handmaiden Syrsha, fingers laced together in front of her, head bowed slightly, all but forgotten by anyone who looked her way. Vyra flicked her gaze up at the movement as Eirene and Rhiani glided into view beyond the gathered group, coming to stand unassumingly at a short distance, their hooded faces pools of shadow inside their soft sage velvet cloaks. Syrsha made no move to join them, but Vyra sensed her stiffening slightly as they drew near. She straightened, turning ever so slightly to catch Syrsha’s eyes, and with a wordless nod and a subtle raise of two fingers from her clasped hands, a silent conversation was had. With the charm of a socialite and the swiftness of a busy monarch, Vyra excused herself from the meeting and handed the reins back to the overseer, leaving the designers with an encouraging declaration of her faith in their abilities. Syrsha followed her out of the crowd, and the three Handmaidens moved seamlessly into their places, Eirene and Syrsha flanking the queen and Rhiani directly behind. Pretending to adjust the collar of her gown, Vyra smoothly opened the private comms link between Queen and Handmaidens. The din of the restoration efforts provided excellent cover noise, and for the moment, the women’s voices were lost to everyone else as they moved with purpose through the halls towards the exit. “What’s happened?” “Your Highness, the storms have grown more unstable,” Rhiani informed her. “They’re already lashing the settlements in the northeast, and we lost a small freighter to the winds and the lightning not one hour ago.”“This isn’t Kamino. What craft we still have isn’t equipped to fly in those conditions,” Eirene said, more than a hint of her usual intensity in her voice. “Unless we go right now, we’ll have to wait for the monsoon season to pass.”
Vyra frowned, a frustrated little line appearing on her forehead. “That’s at least three months away, if not four given how the weather patterns have been changing.” “Your safety is paramount, Your Highness.” Rhiani, ever gentle, ever concerned. “My safety means nothing if I can’t deliver what I promised. This planet has endured far too many broken words and too much political backsliding as it is. No, I gave my word we would resolve things with the Kalidani quickly, and I must keep it or any faith our people still have in our government will be gone."“Well, you can’t help anyone if you die on the way there, can you?-- Your Majesty,” Eirene quickly added, realizing her tone was growing too informal for outside the private chambers. “Rhi makes a point. Travel there becomes more dangerous by the minute. Crashing is not an acceptable mode of transportation.”
Syrsha was already three steps ahead, fingers tapping quickly on her datapad as their small unit cut through a gaggle of palace staff and approached Vyra’s private chambers. “I can retrofit a very small freighter with enhanced shielding, maybe a few hours to add better stabilizers, but without testing it there’s no guarantee it’ll help–”A grip on her arm pulled her focus from her datapad as Eirene tugged her to a halt just inches from Vyra, who was paused outside her quarters, neck craned to stare up at a towering painting hanging next to the door. The handmaidens stood in silence, waiting, Eirene scanning the premises every few moments. Across a backdrop of thick jungle, swamps, oceans and towering mountains sprawled a colorful homage to some of Naboo’s native flora and fauna. Tusk cats lounged among timid shaak and harnessed kaadu, and a peko-peko perched on a log not far, but it was the skies above the mountains that’d caught Vyra’s attention, dark and forked with white lightning as rain poured from its depths. She stared at the giant creatures painted swooping between the bolts, fearless, majestic, adept… “...Your Highness?” Rhiani gently prompted after a minute. Vyra turned to face them, a sparkle in her eye and a plan forming in her mind. “Syrsha, contact the Gungan ambassador. Set up a meeting immediately, and put me through to the team in charge of our menagerie. I have an idea.”
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Vyra Silara
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A bird without its wings is a low and tragic thing.
Posts: 30
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Post by Vyra Silara on Jan 24, 2023 11:56:01 GMT -8
Locations: Theed Royal Palace East Wing (Guest Suites) | He used the Force to beckon his black robe to his hand, and thumbed open his door.And there was Faye, in all her light green glory. Except, to his astonishment, her face displayed a bit more than a jovial demeanor this time. Perhaps a tinge of…was that apprehension he saw? His eyebrows raised in a bit of a neutral form of inquisitive surprise, both at her timing and her apparent state of being. "Hi."He awaited her inevitable reply."Is..everything alright?" “Of course, Knight Kanos,” Faye lied without missing a beat, sealing her practiced calm with a small but reassuring smile. But she could feel the edges of her routine curling inwards slightly under the pressure of the sudden schedule shift. With so little time to adjust, the Handmaidens as a whole were still trying to find their balance, as a cohesive unit as much as individuals, though they’d done remarkably well thus far despite the chaotic situation. Such a drastic change in their plans meant a thousand other things needed to be rearranged and taken care of, and with this fact in mind, Faye chose her words carefully. It wouldn’t do to leave their Jedi advisor with the impression that those around the Queen couldn’t handle complications. As long as she inspired the right amount of haste without alarm, she’d have done her job. She kept her shoulders squared and hands clasped loosely in front of her as she spoke once more, but she gave no hint of apology and offered no acknowledgement of any inconveniences on his behalf. Her tone stayed matter-of-fact and neutral, with no room for debate without sounding demanding. If he was to be a permanent fixture in the Queen’s inner circle, he would learn quickly that there was a time for monarchs to admit error and a time for no questions asked, and it was best to test him earlier rather than later. “We’ve made a necessary adjustment to our schedule. The Queen looks forward to meeting you now, and suggests you take a few moments to prepare for a short journey before you follow me to the docking bays.” She gave the quickest glance at his attire. “There will be torrential rain and winds, at the very least. The rest will be explained when we reach the transport. I'll escort you when you're ready.”
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Vyra Silara
Member
A bird without its wings is a low and tragic thing.
Posts: 30
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Vyra Silara on May 23, 2022 22:03:05 GMT -8
Like a 'Sit Around The Fire With Beer (Or Soda) And Bring Up All The Good Times' kind of thing, right? I approve! Fondest memories... there are SO many, IC and OOC. But to start slow, the thrill of that first post with your first character! Those first developing stories, the energy of the 'old days'. And then the excitement of your first post with your next character, after you'd learned the ropes and figured out what you really wanted to write. Making friends. Having those friends enter the OOC realms of your JvS life, finding people you can grow and evolve with while your stories change with you. More personally, getting recognized at The Sithies for literally anything was always a bright spot! All of the goofy spur-of-the-moment IC improv moments between characters, like the running joke on my crew about Banana Beef protein bars. The giant battles my characters always seemed to cause but never participate in for various 'damsel-in-distress' reasons. Getting to know people's inside jokes in OOC and then seeing them pop up IC during an SL. Having absolutely no plan and no SL at all, and just...posting randomly on a planet with activity and seeing what happens. Somehow never being able to hide in alt character from anyone despite trying my best to be sneaky (there's still ONE no one has figured out yet!!). That feeling of logging into a new post! It still gets me even now. This is a great idea, thank you for sharing it!
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Vyra Silara
Member
A bird without its wings is a low and tragic thing.
Posts: 30
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Vyra Silara on May 2, 2022 13:17:54 GMT -8
Location: Theed Royal Palace, East Wing, heading to Guest Suites NPCs Involved: Handmaiden Faye
As her feet touched ground back at the palace, Faye’s enigmatic handmaiden mask fell back into place, though her voice remained just as friendly and musical. “We’ve placed you in one of our extended stay suites for now,” she explained as she nodded a thank you to their pilot and led Knight Kanos and his companion into the building. “They consist of a small parlor, half kitchenette and office, with a spacious bedroom, balcony and adjacent refresher. I’m sure Seven will appreciate the droid cleaning and charging station off the closets. There’s a port there for quick access to the holonet and any approved information Seven desires. I think you two will have plenty of space for yourselves.”
As the doors to the vast hallway closed behind them, the full majesty of Naboo’s Royal Palace spread out before them in every direction. The flooring was a mosaic of cream colored marble shot with golds and dusty pinks, each slab a work of art. Towering arched windows, bright with sunlight, reached for the painted ceilings above, supported by polished sandstone pillars and sweeping, intricately designed archways. The warm glow from the chandeliers caught every gold seam and tiny gemstone, bathing the canopy in starlight. Between each pillar stood solid copper busts of important figureheads and queens, and a few religious carvings of goddesses to cater to every need.
Cleaning droids whirred busily along the edges of the flooring, diligently removing any dust or trace of where the thick red hallway runner had lain for years. After too many complaints of people’s droids getting their wheels caught in the threads, Vyra had decided to remove it.
The East Wing Suites weren’t crowded. State officials, pages, guards and guests moved by with purpose, nodding respectfully at Knight Kanos but otherwise going about their business without fuss. Each guest room was adequately spaced for privacy and angled to allow for the best views of the gardens, courtyards and fountains outside. A handful of them were a bit larger and overlooked the cliffs and cascading waterfalls, but these were usually reserved for visiting high-profile guests and planetary leaders.
It was, admittedly, a longer walk from the public shuttle platforms to his rooms, but Vyra had insisted Knight Kanos be given a suite with a meditation chamber. There were only four, and they were in the quietest part of the East Wing with easy access to the gardens.
“Here we are.” Faye nodded at the guard stationed outside the door, and he moved away to patrol the hallways as he usually did. “The lock will be keyed to your biometrics,” she explained, gesturing to the handpad next to the entrance. With care for her tone, she managed to avoid sounding like a tour guide. “Guards patrol the hallways day and night, you are free to move about the castle as you see fit, a map of Theed and a list of helpful staff commlink frequencies are on the datapad provided on your desk.” She stepped aside so he might set his lock and enter his rooms, though she would not follow him inside. “Meals are made to your liking and delivered to your rooms at your convenience, though there are many noteworthy restaurants in Theed should you grow tired of your quarters.”
Faye hesitated just a little. “I’ve added my personal commlink frequency to the datapad, should you require anything else.” She offered a small smile under the shadow of her hood. “I’ll be sure to check in on you from time to time. Is everything satisfactory?” she asked, holding near the door to make sure nothing was amiss inside before she departed. “I realize your meeting with the Queen isn’t for a few hours, I shall return to collect you then, if it pleases you.”
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Vyra Silara
Member
A bird without its wings is a low and tragic thing.
Posts: 30
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Vyra Silara on Apr 30, 2022 13:00:31 GMT -8
Location: En route to Theed Royal Palace NPCs Involved: Handmaiden Faye
Listening to the Jedi share the history of his craft was fascinating, the emotion in his voice when he spoke of his first time flying the ‘Palisade’ was, she thought admiringly, touching. For the Naboo, it was considered a great honor and the purest beauty to witness a passionate individual speak of their work and their convictions with such emotion, and though she hadn’t been born on this planet, it was something she came to respect about its people. Treasuring the individual, celebrating love of work and honoring history.Faye once again giggled at the display of familiar humor between master and droid. “Well, if you ever grow weary of being a Jedi, you two would make a profitable comedy routine,” she said lightly, flashing a smile.Even the pilot chuckled a little.Below, an endless blur of sandstone, cobblestone streets, aqua tiled domes and lush vegetation rushed by as they continued onto Theed Royal Palace.
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Vyra Silara
Member
A bird without its wings is a low and tragic thing.
Posts: 30
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Vyra Silara on Apr 28, 2022 13:52:01 GMT -8
Location: En route to Theed NPCs Involved: Handmaiden Faye
There was a certain casualness, genuine and comfortable, that slipped into his speech every so often, and Faye found herself enjoying it. Like the occasional cool mist from the misting stands during Theed’s hot summers, it was refreshing amidst all the political posturing and polished manners she now lived and breathed every day.A soft, musical giggle sounded through her smile at his quip, and Faye nodded in agreement as they neared the platform. Whether or not his humor was deliberate to relax and reassure her, she did not know, but it was appreciated nonetheless. “Sense, yes, in every ..‘sense’.. of the word, something many have been lacking on Naboo for years…” The sweet spring breeze caught her attention briefly, and Faye savored the scent of freshly bloomed millaflowers and crisp green mountain grass even as she watched their surroundings with caution. “I did notice you arrived in a rather unorthodox vessel, we don’t see many like that here,” she noted, nodding to the shuttle pilot as the doors slid open. “Though I confess, my knowledge of spacecraft is lacking. Is it personal preference, or is there a grander story behind your choice of transportation?” she inquired as she slid into the shuttle seat.
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Vyra Silara
Member
A bird without its wings is a low and tragic thing.
Posts: 30
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Vyra Silara on Apr 28, 2022 12:42:02 GMT -8
Location: En route to Theed NPCs Involved: Handmaiden Faye
In the four seconds of comfortable silence that followed as Faye led them through the archways, the handmaiden took quick stock of what little she already knew of Knight Kanos and matched it with what she was learning. Well-spoken, a warmth and charm to rival her own, clearly concerned with decorum if the tidy state of his contrasting robes was anything to go by. She’d expect nothing less from a Chandrilan. His droid companion did pique her interest, though not out of personal curiosity. She knew Syrsha would drill her for details later, and so she’d tried her best to commit to memory the form of his ship and the state of any gear he brought with him. In fact, she’d been just about to ask about the droid when he spoke quietly.
Followed? Hmm.
Hands hidden inside the folds of her robe, Faye instinctively reached for her small holdout blaster, sharpening the turn of her gaze under her hood, though she gave no other outwardly obvious acknowledgement. Annoyance at the idea she may have missed something so obviously crucial prickled at the perfectionists' thoughts, but she kept a smile in her voice all the same.
“As Handmaidens, we assume we are always being followed, Knight Kanos,” she said lightly, mostly to adhere to their collective ‘Be Vague And Mysterious’ handmaiden directive, but also to throw doubt on the fact that she definitely hadn’t noticed anyone following them. She did take a moment to remind herself that Force-gifted had other senses she did not, and so perhaps this was not a failing of hers. But Faye had no wish to insult the Jedi’s instincts, nor make him feel small or disrespected. The Queen seemed to trust their mystical insights, and so would Faye.
Even if it meant admitting she was wrong, less than, or in need of help.
The young woman gritted her teeth briefly.
“Though, our powers of observation are no match for someone with your expertise,” she admitted politely. “I will put my trust in your senses, though I don’t believe there is cause for concern just yet. It’s been only days since the Coronation, people are just as curious as they are scared and anxious.”
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Vyra Silara
Member
A bird without its wings is a low and tragic thing.
Posts: 30
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Vyra Silara on Apr 28, 2022 0:36:13 GMT -8
Location: Delegation District, Theed
The Nar Shaddaa News Network once cited Naboo’s strict, lengthy customs process and rigid anti-weapons laws to be the number one reason not to vacation there. Standing in the shadow of one of the pillars, Faye watched the customs officers, their eyes glazed over in boredom, postures slumped as they relaxed back in their little chairs behind the desks, barely even looking at the individuals before they handed them their corresponding visa cards and waved them through into the hallways beyond. The weapons locker closets behind them were dusty, unused, relics of a culture that had almost been snuffed out nearly four years ago.
How things had changed.Whatever Faye felt about the scene before her, she never let it touch her features, expression placid and cool underneath her hooded gown. She was working. There was no place for real feelings. Only carefully crafted personas and masks. She made a mental note to inform Vyra of what she’d witnessed here, though, for she knew this lax security simply would not do. Her eyes settled on the Jedi Knight as he passed through the customs checkpoint, Lorrdian-trained gaze combing every detail for information. The customs officers also perked up a bit, eying the Knight and his weapons with a healthy amount of caution as one of them quickly handed him his card and ushered him and his BD-series droid through. The man’s lightsabers certainly drew the most attention, but Faye was more interested in the blaster at his hip. Her personal experience with Jedi and the Force-gifted was little to none, but surely they had no need of such uncivilized weapons. Perhaps it was a statement piece? Or, much like Imina’s creations, and much like her own role as Handmaiden, perhaps it was simply a distraction and served another function entirely. The troop of garishly dressed tourists snapping far too many holo-pictures swarmed in front of the Jedi briefly as the tour guide attempted to herd everyone towards the designated group photo area. A handful of stragglers actually paused to swing their cameras towards the Jedi, gawking openly. Faye saw her opportunity. She glided around the throng of beings, using their bundled mass to hide her as she positioned herself to seem she was just walking through the gates and absolutely hadn’t been lurking in the shadows watching people for an hour. It was an unseasonably warm spring day and Vyra was a merciful mistress, so the robes and corresponding jumpsuit ensemble Faye wore underneath were of a much lighter material than usual. The deep teal folds still aptly concealed her form, the hood drawn just low enough to scatter her features with shadow, and the Naboo royal crest was embroidered in a lighter shade across the hemline. She approached the Knight.A small but warm smile settled on her lips, and into her voice she poured honey. “Knight Kanos?” she confirmed, adding a respectful bow of her head. “Welcome! I’m Faye, it’s an honor to meet you. I have a shuttle waiting to take us to the palace at your convenience, where we’ve prepared rooms for you to refresh yourself before your appointments.” There was just the slightest clip of a Coruscanti accent on her tongue. The handmaiden cast a look behind him, as if looking for something. “I can arrange for any luggage to be brought to you…”
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Vyra Silara
Member
A bird without its wings is a low and tragic thing.
Posts: 30
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Post by Vyra Silara on Apr 22, 2022 11:40:24 GMT -8
Though many of Naboo’s more antiquated traditions concerning their sovereign leader have since fallen out of style, the ancient order of the Royal Handmaidens remains a crucial element in the safety and active security of Naboo’s elected monarch. Chosen personally by the Queen and her Head of Security from the best and brightest of Naboo’s young women, they serve not only as the Queen’s aides, bodyguards, and sometimes decoys, but as her constant companions and most trusted advisors. Every potential is very carefully assessed for her natural talents, abilities and physical similarities to the Queen, and then tested to her very limits, put through a rigorous physical and mental training program meant to prepare each Handmaiden for any situation. Once selected, it is common for a Handmaiden to follow her monarch’s example and leave her old identity behind for her protection while serving her term, taking a new name. Unless participating in a ceremony, they often dress to blend into the background, obscuring their forms and faces under heavy matching hooded garments and cloaks made of special armorweave. Each Handmaiden carries a small arsenal of weapons and gear, usually disguised as ornamentation or other articles of clothing, and are equipped with a small standard blaster pistol.
Imina Info
Faye Info
Syrsha Info
Rhiani Info
Eirene Info
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Vyra Silara
Member
A bird without its wings is a low and tragic thing.
Posts: 30
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Vyra Silara on Apr 21, 2022 12:58:36 GMT -8
:: Work In Progress ::
}{The Family}{
Roughly fifteen years ago, just days after the role of Senator of Naboo was thrust upon her following the horrific assassination of Naboo's previous representative, Vyra encountered a handful of individuals that would change the course of her future. The group, despite their resounding differences and the chaos that had brought them together, became the closest of friends, inseparable, bonded by trauma, their loyalty and love for one another driven by the many trials and tribulations they endured as a whole. Almost jokingly they called themselves 'The Family', but the label stuck with the people they encountered as they rose to infamy, traveling the galaxy and diving into one adventure after another. For six years they journeyed together, lived together, loved, laughed, cried, endured, bled and died together.
Eventually, it all shattered.
It's unclear exactly what finally drove The Family apart, although there are plenty of rumors to indulge, but after the initial splinter the remaining members parted ways and 'The Family' faded into legend. For Vyra's part, it's a bittersweet memory. Her love for her old friends never wanes but the sheer amount of trauma they'd suffered together often outweighs the memories of their blissful times. Looking back is often just as painful as it is tenderly nostalgic. She hasn't seen or heard from any of them in many years.
}{Members}{
Vidalu Na'an | Gifted Jedi | Confidant: After rescuing Vyra with Raan Jade's help from the clutches of a crazed, possessed Aherk Formidonis, Na'an, or The Wanderer as she was known for a time, found herself pulled into The Family's gravity despite her independent nature. She was instrumental in keeping everyone safe during their many escapades, her heroic deeds and quick thinking saving The Family from demise time and time again. After striking up a tumultuous romance with Aherk Formidonis, which ended in tragedy and many, many scars, Na'an was the first of The Family to break away and forge a new path in solitude.
Raan Jade | Ex Husband | Jedi Protector: From their first meeting, Raan Jade and Vyra were drawn to each other. After serving as her personal bodyguard during the investigation into the death of Naboo's previous senator, the two began an epic romance that spanned almost the entirety of The Family's time together. They married a year into their relationship despite growing discord between them spurred on by outside forces that threatened to come between the lovers, and took up stewardship over the planet Fondor, where they lived after Vyra left the Senate behind. But Raan's possessive, unforgiving nature slowly drove Vyra away, and their love story ended in heartbreak after her kidnap by notorious Falleen crime lord Xaxan Zadicus. After a quick divorce, the Jedi abruptly left for Umgul and cut ties with the rest of The Family, where he still resides with their daughter, Lyra, and their long-time friends, the Vyridian brothers. The two never spoke again.
Aherk Formidonis { Aherk Fyyar } | Snark King | Crazy And Force-Formidable: Having met and crossed blades with Vidalu Na'an just days before The Family's first unification, a possessed Aherk kidnapped Vyra on Coruscant in an attempt to draw out the resistant Na'an and force her to face him once more. This was the moment all five founding members of The Family came together for the first time. Na'an defeated him in battle, and with time, patience and a lot of forgiving, Formidonis and the others became fast friends despite his actions. His romance with Vidalu Na'an was chaotic and tense, and eventually it lead to his finite downfall.
Dash Voss | Zabrak Wild Card | Loyal Friend: Seven feet and seven inches of power and unpredictability, Dash was often the comedic relief of the group despite his intimidating size and strength. He often came and went at his own whim, but left for good when his brother resurfaced. The Zabrak was always in the front line, taking the brunt of the attack (occasionally weilding a frying pan) and protecting his friends at all costs, and he was much loved by Vyra and the others for his unyielding bravery and rowdy nature.
Caoimhin Shan | Legacy of Old | Closest Friend: A later arrival to the group, Cao and Vyra quickly formed a close bond, one that would eventually become a literal one. Killed in battle, Cao's spirit (Force essence) found temporary refuge inside Vyra's mind and body, merging the senator and the Jedi into one complex being that called themselves 'Vao' while his friends worked to bring him back. For almost a year she was a willing vessel for her friend's soul, sharing his Force sensitivity and his skill as a Jedi. The two were never quite the same after the separation, but their bond can never be broken.
Eliana Shan | Caoimhin's Sister: A woman of great intellect and fierce battle prowess, Eliana and Vyra became friends during the time of Vao, when Vyra was bonded physically and mentally with Caoimhin Shan, and Vyra spent much of that time helping Eliana in her own nemesis battle against a violent, evil entity known as The Corruption . While Eliana rarely traveled with The Family, she was considered part of the group and lent her skills to their missions many a time. However, the continued rise of The Corruption threatening the galaxy was too important to her, and she left before The Family splintered, thinking she could handle the situation better alone. Vyra hasn't heard from her since.
An'dru Kierra-Solo | Jedi Scoundrel | Brother From Another: Another drifter in and out of The Family, An'dru's charm, wit, and skill in the Force came in handy during their exploits. He was always ready with a joke to lighten the mood, a true good friend to all of them, and his connections in lower places often gave them an edge when they needed one most. He left on a mission before The Family broke apart and never returned, and although they looked high and low for him, his whereabouts are still unknown.
Kyle Ajahn | Brief But Brilliant Sparks: The two met long ago during Vyra and Raan’s romance but were never given a chance to explore their immediate chemistry. However, their initial connection was strong enough to survive years of silence, and she thought fondly of him very often.
Adieumus Matango { Adi } | Eternally Gifted: Perhaps one of her oldest connections to date, Vyra encountered the bright, powerful young Adi on her travels long ago and the two quickly found kindred spirits in one another. Though their times together were few and far between, they kept consistent communication via holonet, through the good times and the dark, up until Vyra’s disappearance and three year brush with slavery, and she did not resume contact after her return.
The Corruption | Galactic Nemesis | Biological Evil: From origins unknown came the vibrant blue, liquid crystalline organism. It possessed an acute intelligence, moving logically, spreading across the galaxy mostly unchecked and 'absorbing' everything and everyone in its path. There's still very little known about the entity, and no one's been able to identify its weaknesses thus far.
It disappeared five years ago and no one has seen it since.
Atlantis Vyridian and Andros Vyridian | Old Friends: Two very powerful Force users and gifted healers, the Vyridian brothers helped The Family on many occasions, and were even able to bring some of them back from the brink of death. They reside on Umgul with Raan Jade and the rest of their extended family, but Vyra's had no contact with them for years.
Xaxan Zadicus | Criminal Empire | Falleen Manipulator: A dark and twisted man, Xaxan’s dogged and unwanted romantic pursuit of Vyra turned her whole life upside down, resulting in the end of her marriage and her eventual enslavement. He kidnapped her from Fondor when she refused to come willingly, keeping her aboard his ship as his prisoner plaything for months. She suffered much abuse at his hands, eventually convincing him to let her go, but their interaction didn’t end there. Over the next few years the situation repeated itself, he’d make advances, she’d refuse him, he’d take her. In his own sick, perverse way he cared for her, and in the end when everyone else had left Vyra behind and she was in trouble, it was Xaxan who came to her rescue when her old nemesis Mark Yates captured and tortured her for information on Raan Jade. Forced to choose between two evils, Vyra willingly stayed with Xaxan for a year in exchange for her freedom from Yates. In that time, she came to realize his feelings were genuine, and though she couldn't love him, Vyra made an effort to be kinder to him. When the Falleen realized he’d never have her love completely willingly he set her free, promising not to bother her again. This is one of the reasons she is so susceptible to Stockholme Syndrome.
Ronin and Mark Yates | Brothers But Opposites: Ronin Yates did everything he could to come between Raan Jade and Vyra, but in the end he lost the war for her heart. His brother, Mark, an evil man with a warped soul, a mind for science and a vendetta against Ronin often took Vyra and used her against him, tormenting both of them for his own gains.
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Vyra Silara
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A bird without its wings is a low and tragic thing.
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Post by Vyra Silara on Apr 21, 2022 12:33:56 GMT -8
Everything happens for a reason.
There is always hope.
Those were the mottos I lived by, the pegs I hung my hat on at the end of the day and the truths I leaned on when I was hurt or scared. They were my cornerstone through many misfortunes, the phrases I’d sing to others when they needed comfort, and though the galaxy thought me naïve I truly believed in their power. In a way I still do, despite everything I've been through. But my understanding of them has deepened, grown, as does everything with time and experience.
Everything truly does happen for a reason.
But hope is not always found, nor is it always there to find. Sometimes, you have to make your own.
There was a woman in The Pits on Zygerria, Cleo, now old and withered but born right there in the mud, a slave before she'd even left her mother's womb. I wasn't there but a week before I began to fall apart, waiting for someone to rescue me, but no matter how cruelly life ground her into the dirt with its heel, no matter what the Overseers put her through Cleo never wavered, never seemed to lose her strength of will or break under the constant mental and physical strain. She seemed…indestructible. I asked her how she did it, how she found hope despite having no future. I'll never forget her answer. So simple, so obvious, something I shouldn’t have forgotten when life was turned upside down but I couldn't see it under the waves of my own misery. "Find a reason bigger than yourself and make your own hope, child," she said quietly. "Know what you're fighting for. Put your faith there. Grab it and don't let it go, Vyra, no matter what. Don't let it go."
Something in my soul clicked into place. And I realized no one was coming for me. Not this time.
Cleo rescued my spirit. It was up to me to rescue the rest of me.
So, I found my reason. I made my own hope. And I fought for it.
The rumor from the Overseers was if you could climb out of the Slave Pit, you'd have your freedom. It took me three years, the death of my friend Omari and countless agonizing failures but as the rain came down and the sky flickered electric purple, I scaled the treacherous, impossible hundred foot pit Wall, something no one had managed before, and stood above ground breathing free air for the first time since my capture.
The Liberation of Zygerria was short, bloody and largely unsuccessful, ultimately leading to death for most of the slaves who rose up after me. I still carry that weight, still see their faces. Our revolt was brushed under the rug like the dirt we'd clawed our way out of and the galaxy was none the wiser. But for those left behind as well as those who escaped with me, it left behind a seed of hope, something for those in chains to nurture and those with freedom to fight for. If a small girl from Naboo could climb the impossible Wall and momentarily tip the scales, maybe someone else could. Maybe the future wasn't so dark. Maybe freedom was within their grasp.
It's been almost five years since that day. I was never formally given my freedom, but in my mind, I took it back when I made the climb. And every day when I wake, I make sure I earn the right to live a free woman.
Freedom is a right, not a privilege, and I'll fight for that right, YOUR right, until my dying breath no matter what form slavery takes or who it tries to crush under its heel. Jedi, Sith, Imperial, Republic, First Order, Alliance, Force or non-Force, civilian or royalty, old or young, darkside or lightside, injustice and enslavement do not differentiate and neither do I. Because when you peel away the faction layers, the colored uniforms, accents, political opinions and occupations, and throw what's left into a pit with no feasible escape? It won't matter where you're from or what you've believed before. You will want your freedom.
So I fight for freedom for all races and allegiances, for those that can't fight, those that can, those that won't and those that are too afraid to make their stand.
But I live for the chance, no matter how small, that I might one day see a galaxy free from all forms of slavery, mental and physical. I live for the chance that someday my efforts will see me free from my own demons. I live to spite the innumerable beings who sought to smother my voice and possess my body. It sounds impossible? Am I 'dreaming' too big? Are my desires too unrealistic?
They said that about The Wall, too.
And look how far I've come already.
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Vyra Silara
Member
A bird without its wings is a low and tragic thing.
Posts: 30
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Vyra Silara on Apr 21, 2022 12:30:52 GMT -8
}{Strengths}{
Cool, Calm and Collected: Always the diplomat, Vyra’s cool composure under pressure rarely fails her, having honed her responses over time. This ability has served her well in many areas, although it was put to the test during her enslavement.
Embrace Life: Life as a slave, no matter how briefly, alters one’s perception. After three years trapped underground in the Slave Pits of Zygerria with no real hope of freedom, Vyra’s come to see just how precious everything she’d taken for granted before truly is. The grass is greener, the sun brighter, the food tastier, the air sweeter. It has allowed her to live more in the moment, appreciate the smaller things and give more focus to the important ones.
Family Legacy: The melding of the Silara and Salicaire bloodlines, the fierce political powerhouse and the captivating, charismatic artist, has gifted Vyra with the perfect tools for her trade. Her personality retains the initial traits of her two families (as well as the more negative ones), blending them together into someone who, with plenty of guidance and practice, can accomplish most things she sets her mind to.
Vox Populi: She entered politics to be a true and dedicated voice for the people, but lost sight of her initial drive when the corruption of ‘real-world government’ drew her energy into chaos. Now, liberated from her twisted and tainted gilded cage and supported by powerful allies, Vyra is once again focusing on the important things, lending her passion, knowledge and skills to fighting for the enslaved, the overlooked and the underappreciated who so desperately want their governments to hear them.
No Mountain High Enough: It took free-climbing her way out of a hundred-foot-deep muddy pit to earn her freedom from slavery and she developed a taste for the activity. Five years later, she still climbs every day, pushing herself past her limits, conquering many a mountain, and she’s become quite good at the ‘sport’. It also helps her cope with what she's been through.
Self-Reliant: Not to say Vyra never needs a helping hand (although she likes to pretend she doesn't), but she's become far more secure surviving alone than she used to be.
}{Weaknesses}{
Veneer: Although this particular problem has improved over the last seven years, the mask of performance and deception fostered by the distorted practices of high-political public life still sometimes falls into place for Vyra out of habit, though she’s able to tear it off quicker now that she’s fully aware of it.
Wary of Romance: She’s a tad gun-shy about engaging in serious romance, not just because she’s been used and abused too many times but because the kind of men she is initially drawn to are often toxic and dangerous, possessive and brash, and it’s never worked out well for her in the past.
Victim | Pawn | Damsel In Distress: Perhaps her greatest (and oldest) 'flaw' is not one she actively chooses or intends to engage in, but is instead the role the universe thrusts Vyra into time and time again no matter how she fights it. Kidnapped, imprisoned, used as bait, currency and leverage… It's a vicious, inescapable cycle, and although isolating herself and learning how to handle these situations alone has helped break it on occasion, she is eventually pulled back in and it starts all over again. She's managed to mostly avoid it after gaining her freedom, not just from slavery but from the possessive people of her past, but she knows it's only a matter of time before it begins again. At least this time, she'll be ready for it.
Superiority: To clarify, Vyra does not believe herself superior to others in any way. However, when fired up and on an impassioned roll she can occasionally come across as rather imperious or condescending, a known flaw of House Silara.
Combat Experience: Despite the adventurous, danger-filled life she’s led the past sixteen years, the ex-senator’s hand-to-hand could use some work. A LOT of work. A lifetime of relying on others to fill this role for her has left her at a severe disadvantage in combat. She’s a fair shot with a blaster but nothing special and she can throw a punch or two when pushed to it, but while she’s become fairly adept at evading, Vyra still has very little skill in battle.
PTSD: Used, abused, enslaved, tortured, witness to obscene amounts of trauma and excruciating pain of the soul, Vyra grapples with her demons daily. She’s made immense progress over the past four years, mentally and physically, and has learned to focus her emotions into something positive and progressive, but if she’s not careful she can slip back into the darkness.
Fear of Abandonment: Left behind by everyone she ever cared about, Vyra struggles with her simultaneous desires to be both needed and left alone. Fear of letting others in turns into fear of losing them, and so she keeps many friends but rarely holds them closely.
Stockholme Syndrome: A condition where the captured develop emotional and psychological bonds with their captors, Vyra is extremely susceptible to this phenomenon due to her many experiences with kidnapping.
Independence: While her independent streak does empower her, it can also be a huge detriment in her ability to intimately connect with others outside of her work, misleading her to believe she doesn’t need anyone.
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Vyra Silara
Member
A bird without its wings is a low and tragic thing.
Posts: 30
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Vyra Silara on Apr 21, 2022 12:18:18 GMT -8
}{Official Name}{
Vyra Jade Silara
}{Pronunciation}{
(Veer-ah) or (Vear-ah)
}{Titles}{
Queen Silara of Naboo
}{Homeworld}{
Naboo
}{Occupation | Job | Profession}{
::Previously::
Senator, Government Representative
::Currently::
Sovereign Monarch of Naboo, Queen Silara
::Libertatem Populi::
Vyra is a founding member and goodwill Ambassador for a small but powerful group of retired government officials known as 'The Libertatem Populi', a privately funded organization with a mission to leave behind the corruption of official government and truly focus on improving the lives of the people, especially in smaller, destitute communities. They also specialize in tracking down and upsetting the slave trade however they can, finding legitimate employment and homes for freed slaves with nowhere to go and providing them with proper health care and therapy.
}{Force Sensitivity}{
Unknown
}{Faction | Allegiance}{
Unknown }{Species}{
Human
}{Age}{
32
}{Gender}{
Female
}{Height}{
5'5"
}{Weight}{
115 lbs
}{Eye Color}{
Cinnamon
}{Hair Color}{
Warm Chestnut
}{Build}{
Slender, petite frame, lithe with subtle muscle tone, sharp shoulders and narrow torso.
}{Appearance and Temperament}{
Vidalu Na'an once commented that Vyra "had a face like spun glass and a temperament to match", beautiful but delicate. While she retains some of her former splendor, the rest of her has bloomed from the fragile flower it once was into something stronger, more durable. Gone are the soft, ample, sensual curves of the pampered nobility, lost to the toils and depraved conditions of slavery. Gone is the innocent roundness of her face, the flawless skin of hands that had never seen labor. Lean muscle lends faint definition to her limbs now, and light pink-white scars from her experiences are scattered across her pale flesh. Her chestnut tresses tumble down her back but lack the full bounce of youth, and are often left untouched and rarely styled in wild waves. Her face, a regal nose, full lips, wide brown eyes and high cheekbones more defined by time, sports very little of the bright, fashionable makeup she used to wear, opting instead for a darker, smokier version of a natural palette. There are numerous callouses etched into her palms and fingers from countless long hours of climbing, and the skin on the back of her hands is often dried and cracked from chalk use.
Although her empathetic spirit is still mostly intact, Vyra's meek, gentle, freely compassionate nature is no longer at the forefront of her personality, having retreated behind the iron walls she was forced to raise in order to survive on her own. Where she once offered trust openly and without question, she's learned to be more selective in those she puts her faith in, and her ever-hopeful, ever-optimistic outlook is now tempered with a grim kind of realism. Enslavement and abuse, while damaging her in other ways, has given her a fresh perspective on life. She never takes anything for granted anymore, appreciating every freedom, grateful for every breath, and tries to make the most of each moment. Freedom is sweet.
While still tactful as ever, she's more inclined to tell the world to screw off every once in a while, the sharpness of her silver tongue honed by the spark of power she unlocked inside while fighting for her life. Her willingness to always put everyone else above herself has shifted; after being everyone's proverbial doormat for many years, she's paying closer attention to her own happiness as opposed to bending over backwards to please the world, although not at the great expense of others. There's a bold, flinty confidence to her poise and a spirited bite to her attitude that highlights the natural piquancy of her personality. She moves, speaks, and stands with the authority of someone who's paid her dues and earned her wisdom, a trait that can sometimes be misinterpreted as superiority to those who don't know her, but she will fight tooth, word and nail for others when she believes there's been injustice and would never be intentionally cruel or patronizing to anyone, no matter which 'side' of the argument they were on. Vyra does struggle with remnants of post-traumatic stress disorder from her time in the Zygerrian Slave Pits and the events of her capture before, as well as some residual parts of Caoimhin Shan 's personality and habits from when their spirits shared her body, which the Vyridian brothers Atlantis Vyridian and Andros Vyridian locked away in an inaccessible corner of her mind, though recent events have brought his Echo to the surface...
This is a sharper Vyra with a clearer sense of self, far more capable, liberated, self-reliant. Many of her frivolous trappings have fallen away. She wields diplomacy like a fine sword, battling oppression and corruption in all its forms with fire in her words, steel grace in her actions and the unyielding fortitude of someone who intimately knows what she's fighting against. She is by no means fearless or unshakable. Rather, she’s learned how to push through it. Before her ascension to Queen of Naboo, Vyra had traded most of her heavy, lavish gowns and elaborate ensembles of high politics for simpler, more modern outfits, favoring comfort and practicality over fashion. But once again in the public eye, the new monarch has reclaimed her bolder, more ornate fashion choices as would be required of her position.
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Vyra Silara
Member
A bird without its wings is a low and tragic thing.
Posts: 30
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Vyra Silara on Apr 21, 2022 11:58:19 GMT -8
Type of Personal Databank: Character Information Who can post in this thread: Vyra SilaraStatus Of Profile: Under Construction
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Vyra Silara
Member
A bird without its wings is a low and tragic thing.
Posts: 30
Traffic Light: Orange
|
Post by Vyra Silara on Feb 17, 2016 18:44:46 GMT -8
"Engineer, technically." Given the direction the previous topic had been going, he seized the opportunity to talk about something less personal like a man dying of thirst might seize a glass of water. "My specialty is miniaturization. I like taking big stuff and getting it as small as I can without losing too much capability, but I can fix just about anything given the right parts. It's really all about efficiency." He reached out and picked up the datapad off the table in front of him. "This datapad, for example. Normally they make 'em with metal wiring and memory chips, which cuts down on cost but tends to heat up under heavy use. I replaced all the metal bits with fiber optics and diode memory and not only did the speed jump like, a thousand times, it also can't overheat anymore. This little datapad has more computing power and speed than the Mynock's main computer. At least it will until I finish upgrading that... I've been running into a few issues with the funding and parts." He dropped the datapad back onto the table and sat back. "Good thing you showed up, isn't it?" He flashed a smile at her. "Anyway, I do the same kind of stuff with everything from guns and shields to droids and repulsors." “I’d love to see some of your work sometime, if you’re willing.” Vyra put down her utensils and took a bite of the polystarch she’d just cut into small pieces. Oh, but she missed real fresh bread. “I’ll admit, the details of technology elude me. I know my way around a datapad on the outside, but open it up and I’m lost. Even in my very few classes, I never could quite get the hang of it.” She smiled, a little bashful. “But I suppose we’re all meant for different paths. If only people’s inner ‘wires and chips’ were more clear-cut.”Finishing her polystarch, Vyra patted her lips and studied Rik from across the little table. “I can tell you’re passionate about your work. It’s inspiring.” The consort tilted her head with interest. “With your skill set and the right contractor, you could be turning over massive profits, if you were so inclined. But you know this already.” She didn’t press the matter, leaving it open for him to continue or divert. Her curiosity ate at her, and she sensed a story there, but she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.
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Vyra Silara
Member
A bird without its wings is a low and tragic thing.
Posts: 30
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Vyra Silara on Feb 15, 2016 20:05:39 GMT -8
“Actually, I learned to cook as a child and continued my education throughout my adolescence.” Vyra’s chilly smile glimmered like the edge of a knife as she dipped into her soup, her voice humorless. “Whore Academy just perfected my skills and taught me to be creative.”
Though the spacer was making no attempts to be polite about it, which she suspected may have been on purpose, the courtesan let his derogatory comments slide. For now. With her political background and the training she’d received at the guild, Vyra was fairly well equipped to handle a slew of different attitudes concerning her profession. Of course, that didn’t mean that insults or judgement had no sting, especially if one kept attacking, and learning to cope with it was one of the harder aspects to master, but it was an unavoidable part of the job.
She gestured to their meal. “This is nothing, you should see what I can do with a good roast.” The chill melted from her expression, and she redirected the conversation as she wound a few of the noodles around a chopstick. “You mentioned building things? I’ve noticed a few contraptions around the ship that I’ve been unable to identify. I take it you’re an inventor of sorts?” It was hard to eat instant noodle soup and still look dignified while doing it, but Vyra managed. She watched Rik, expression encouraging. “What’s your forte?”
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Vyra Silara
Member
A bird without its wings is a low and tragic thing.
Posts: 30
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Vyra Silara on Feb 12, 2016 21:04:16 GMT -8
She had four different ‘rehearsed’ answers to that common question, all very simple and polite, as casual dinner conversation with a stranger should be. There were others, of course, that would paint her in an intriguing, mysterious light, leaving her audience wanting. There was the coy, flirty option, and a myriad of possibilities as far as body language and voice tone went.
Then, there was the truth. And when it came to her ‘story’, she hadn’t told the truth in a very, very long time.
Vyra finished chewing, patting her lips delicately with her napkin. She’d caught the shift in his expressions and noted the guarded gloss over his words. He’d managed to gather the basics of his life in a nutshell and share it with her, and it was only proper she did the same. But she couldn’t bring herself to spit out something practiced and fine-tuned. So Vyra deviated, just a little. “Naboo is my home, but I’ve spent most of my life on Coruscant studying politics.” She met his eyes, her tone light, and smiled a little. “For years, I worked as a senator for the Galactic Republic, but I can’t claim any major accomplishments in my time there.” She lowered her gaze, sawing at a cracker a bit too hard. “Too much…corruption. So I married my Jedi protector, bore him a child, and spent three months pretending I knew how to be a mother.”
The cracker broke, knife hitting the plate with a sharp clink. Vyra stared at it for a moment, expression an empty sort of tranquil, swallowing the urge to stop her words and revert to her prepared stories. Finally, she looked at Rik, and with a blink she’d returned to her resting cordial state, voice as calm as if she were discussing the weather. “He divorced me shortly after on charges of infidelity, which I was not given a chance to address, and I’ve not seen him or the child since. Strangely, it was possibly the best thing that could have happened to me. I was not suited for motherhood, or marriage.” The brunette nibbled on the cracker. “So, I spent the next few years doing…well. It’s a very long story. I even tried to return to the Senate. But eventually, I found a way to put my skills, my knowledge to use.”
Vyra watched his face carefully, her dark eyes curious. “I suppose I’m not surprised you haven’t guessed what it is I do. The Hetaira Union is still very new, and very few of us have left our guilds yet. The ones that have rarely leave the Core. Companions are still a foreign concept to many.”
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Vyra Silara
Member
A bird without its wings is a low and tragic thing.
Posts: 30
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Vyra Silara on Feb 11, 2016 21:15:33 GMT -8
‘Someone like you’? Vyra wasn’t sure if she should be amused or mildly insulted (she settled for an even mixture of both). Not that she blamed him his perceptions. After all, she didn’t quite look like she belonged in a kitchen.
The only sign of reaction was a cordial smile, though her expression flattened a little. “Yes, kitchens are very mysterious. If I need a jar opened or can’t work the sink, I’ll call out,” she jabbed smoothly as she glided away and into the kitchen.
It didn’t take her long to find the food, if it could be called that. Good thing she’d remembered to bring her spice jars. Placing them on the counter, Vyra retrieved a few bowls and plates from the shelves, washed them as thoroughly as she could, and set about gathering edibles. There were instant noodles, a handful of dried fruits and meats, some stale crackers, a powder for polystarch bread, and plenty of protein supplements and rations. She stared at the collection for a moment, thinking.
Ten minutes later, everything was set.
She made two trips, serving Rik a bowl and a plate first before retrieving her own. With her added spices, a little work, and some creativity, the consort had transformed the dull food. The bowl was full of noodles in a thin, fiery orange broth, and from it rose a spicy steam. The meat had been soaked in a sweet, tangy mixture until it was soft and distributed in the noodle soup. The tasteless protein cubes and supplements had been melted down and added to everything for nutritional value. After softening a few of the more palatable ration bars, she’d mixed some of the dried fruit into the paste and added a bit of flavored oil and sweetener before cutting the blue polystarch bread in half and spreading it over the halves like a butter. The rest was set artfully on the plate with the crackers, which had been toasted and spread with the same sweet butter as the bread.
Vyra sat gracefully, stirring her soup slowly as she took a bite of the polystarch, and began conversation in a light, friendly tone. “So, Captain. Tell me about yourself!” She watched him attentively. “Living as you do, you must have some stories. How did you get where you are today?”
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Vyra Silara
Member
A bird without its wings is a low and tragic thing.
Posts: 30
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Vyra Silara on Feb 7, 2016 0:45:02 GMT -8
Vyra met his gaze with a soft smile and sharp twinkle in her eye. "I'd have worn my potato sack ensemble, but I left it at home." She moved to stand behind the seat next to him, looking down at herself for a moment. The light green fabric shimmered under the light. "Honestly, it's the least extravagant thing I brought with me, and I wanted to be comfortable. I don't get that chance often."
She scanned the table in front of her, eyes resting on his energy pudding. Vyra folded her hands in front of her. "Can I help with something food related?"
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