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Post by Roland Ferrum on Jun 6, 2023 17:53:33 GMT -8
*Happy to see his friend and gain a bit of a reprieve from the drudgery of the overall party he endures the ridiculous air kissing custom and even manages to hide his distaste for it by summoning a genuine smile. Disassociated from the haughty arrogance that most of the upper crust of society imbued into it he was able to accept it in the spirit it was intended from his friend and a part of him was glad that she was no longer embarrassed by her background even if he himself had contributed to that discomfort in the past.*
*He lets La-Di lead him away from the balcony, his own arm naturally falling in place around hers, seeking an old familiar comfort that had gotten him through many similar formal occasions of the past. His smile fades however at the mention of his Uncle's death, his eyes unfocusing slightly as the past few days flash across his memories once again, seeing the pain in the eyes of his closest family as they all begin to process the event in their own ways. Thankfully before he's forced to respond she relieves him of that burden and whisks him to the bar, chatting amiably. His smile returns once again as she mentions his medals and he chuckles softly.* "Oh, it's absolutely fantastic isn't it?" *He leans in toward her conspiratorially and exaggeratedly whispers.* "I'm even fairly sure that the protocol officers only had to to invent half of them, I might even have earned one or two of them" *He laughs at his own joke for a moment before she shifts to adjust the Fondor ribbon and face fades back into a more somber expression as faces begin flashing through his mind and for just a moment he's back in that interceptor cockpit, flying on instinct, just trying not to be shot down as friends evaporate into balls of explosive gas around him, debris littering the space around him, causing more hazards than he can track, bearing down on him as he struggles for his life. Thankfully his friend's voice cuts back through the memories and brings him back as she mentions it not being the same. A part of him wants to make a joke about not wanting to take all the kills away from the rest of them, or how he had been transferred for being too dangerous in the skies, but his friend deserved a more genuine response than his usual deflection.*
*Thankfully the timely arrival of the whiskey and the toast to the fallen save him from having to make any response to that at all. He clinks his glass to hers and echos her words, his mind reciting a list of names silently as he drinks. That list, starting with the name of a cadet who'd died in a landing accident in the academy and ending with his uncle's, was a weight on his soul that he sat silently for a moment wrestling with, letting the toast linger for a few moments after his first drink is finished, his gaze wondering off for a moment before he drew himself back to the moment, pouring them both another drink and turning his attention back to the conversation, though changing the subject slightly.* "You asked about my family earlier. You're right that I've been asked about them a lot in the past few days, but few people actually care about the answer." *He did manage a weak chuckle at the expense of the political cronies he'd been forced to associate with recently and their self serving false attitudes.* "In truth they're doing as well as can be expected. They're all strong people, some of the strongest that I know in fact, but losing someone you love is hard and dealing with that on top of trying to keep an empire on track is something else entirely. I'm mean they've been reduced to sending me out to represent the family" *He gestured to their surroundings* "So clearly we are all doomed." *He did manage a genuine smile with that one, some of his usual jovial nature finally able to reassert itself into the situation as he made a joke at his own expense.*
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Celeste Randd
The First Order
Posts: 6 
Affiliation: The First Order
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Post by Celeste Randd on Jun 8, 2023 19:23:27 GMT -8
"Oh, clearly," Celeste agrees with a merry, lyrical laugh; Roland's ability to find humor in the things others take so very seriously as much a part of him as her insouciance is a part of her, and facets of their characters that, in their youth, had maddened one another even while serving as the impetus for both to look at themselves honestly and see the danger of allowing their youthful affectations to entrap them in the caricatures of the angry orphan and shallow socialite each could so easily have remained had they not met and had the friendship borne from their initial disdain for one another not proven to be one that enabled both to mature and grow.
Running an index finger around the rim of her glass after Roland has refilled it, Celeste pats his forearm as she tells him sincerely and without the usual amused tone lyrically tickling her words, "Your family is strong, Boofoo dear, as are you." Though she has not met the Royal family, having only seen them at the occasional ceremonial gatherings or social occasions she had found herself attending with her father or with Roland, Celeste has heard enough about them from Roland and about those of their deeds or accomplishments that Imperial citizens had been made aware of that she knows her old friend's faith in them is not merely loyalty to family or hollow, automatic words expected of their chosen representative for the gathering occasioning their reunion; just as she knows that beneath Roland's self deprecating sense of humor lays a dedication to the Imperial cause as deep and inviolable as her own.
The merriment returns to her tone as Celeste sips her whiskey and then swirls the glass as she lazily drawls, "Now then, Boofoo, you simply must tell me all that you've been up to since last I saw you, trusting that he knows, despite the change in subject and tone accompanying it, she will listen should he wish to speak more of how the Emperor's death has affected him if he has a need to do so. Details please," she adds, the fingers of her free hand wagging eagerly towards her to invite him to share the experiences she can no longer share together with him after their career paths diverged so that she can, if only vicariously and after the fact, share in them with him now.
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Post by Roland Ferrum on Jun 13, 2023 17:57:28 GMT -8
*Roland appreciated his friend's words more than he'd be able to express, especially in regards to himself. While a part of him always believed in his own strength, especially after the trials of his early years, there was always a voice in the back of his mind whispering to him, trying to convince himself of his complete inadequacy despite the confident face he turned to the world. Having the support of a friend removed a weight from his chest that he hadn't realized that he was carrying, and his entire posture shifted slightly, relaxing a little more in her company, his smile broadening back to it's usual size.* "Thank you." *And he meant it for a lot more than just her simple reassuring words, but also for the unspoken knowledge that she'd be there to talk about it if he needed, though in truth he was quite happy when she shifted topics, allowing him to think about something other than death for once.*
*Though there had been some electronic communication since he'd left the Starfighter Corps, the sporadic messages weren't the same as a full conversation in person so Roland figured he'd start at the beginning* "Well after leaving I took a little time off to explore the empire on my own. I got to enjoy the sights and cultures the galaxy has to offer, without all the military hardware and heavy firepower separating me from it." *He chuckles slightly, thinking about how different people can treat you when you no longer wear clothes that represent the greatest military might in the galaxy* "It was mostly just tourism on a grand scale, visiting remote places and peoples, trying to refined myself. I enjoyed great food on Kuat, roamed the fields of Garqi and Agamar, accidentally found myself adopted by a Yuuzhan Vong Clan for saving some children from a monster, and had some fun with the local pilots of Adumar" *He said each of the points as if it were just a simply list of simple life events, intentionally not elaborating certain points, knowing that her curiosity will get the better of her* "Eventually I found myself inspired for a new project while touring the academy on Carida and began coming up with the idea for what would become the Veers project. It took a while to get traction, and the Grand Marshal *He still refused to call the man anything else, despite the fact that he was technically his uncle.* dismissed the plan outright. Thankfully his counterpart was much more receptive the the plan and found me a place among the Army Engineers to explore it." *Part of him still suspected that Grand Marshal Zahn had initially done it as much to annoy Baltasar as anything else but Roland knew that he had eventually proven himself and before too long found himself in charge of an entire research department and Battalion of Engineers.* "The Veers was finally launched a few months ago, with it's two sister ships entering service just before the Emperor's death. While we have other projects going on, I am hoping more permanently move to base my Battalion on the Veers to continue our work and expand our role."
*Roland was animated and excited as he spoke of his travels and career though he completely omitted an important aspect of his life. His personal relationship still felt new to him, despite the fact that they'd recently taken the step to move in together. While he was excited about the relationship and he wasn't sure how much of it he was willing to share just yet. He justified most of it with Ryn's own preference for privacy and secrecy, but a part of him also had to admit that part of that hesitation was due to the complicated history he shared with the woman on the other side of this conversation.*
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Celeste Randd
The First Order
Posts: 6
Affiliation: The First Order
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Celeste Randd on Jun 13, 2023 20:50:06 GMT -8
Celeste smiles, occasionally sipping her whiskey as, clearly enjoying this rare moment fortune has allowed her to spend with her oldest and dearest friend, she listens to Roland recounting his exploits since the last time they had an opportunity to speak together in person, holonet messages and long distance comms never allowing for the same level of sharing that being together allows for, robbing them of the little things hearing the other's voice or seeing their expressions reveal and diluting the interactions in imperceptible ways that simply being face-to-face enables them to share.
Languidly reaching out with her free hand to pat Roland's forearm once the tales of his adventures and creative efforts has ended, Celeste drawls, "It all sounds positively bohemian, Boofoo. Gallivanting about the empire and blundering into little escapades is so very you. I was afraid you'd end by telling me you had joined a little rustic artistic commune on Agamar or some other agrarian backwater, she jokes with a tinkling laugh. Blowing one of the black curls that always seem to falling over her eyes out of the way, Celeste grins as she taps his chest with her index finger and chides him playfully, You were a bit miserly with the details I asked for, however, so you simply must tell me more about how you valiantly slayed the fell monster and were adopted by the Vong Clan sometime," amused to see that Roland's marked enthusiasm for his more creative endeavors still can lead him to rush over his accounts of other events in his life in his eagerness to speak of them, and makes his admission that his adventures had ultimately led to the inspiration for one of his projects, in this case something called the Veers project seem almost inevitable.
Drumming her fingers on the sides of her glass, Celeste, who always enjoys seeing the almost child-like delight that Roland exhibits when speaking of his work, asks as much to learn more of it - which often reveals more of him as well - as to ensure her friend is able to forget that he is at one of the sorts of gatherings that are often so very taxing for him to attend for awhile longer, invites him to, "Tell me more about this little battalion of yours and how you would like its role to expand, leaning forward so that her nose nearly touches his as, lifting a hand as though to shield her lips from any lip readers that might happen to be about, she whispers in a conspiratorial tone spiced with a dash of amusement, Or is that just a little bit too hush hush for you to share with a simple little coffin jockey like me?"
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Darth Rigatoni
Member
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Affiliation: The Culinary Arts of the Force
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Post by Darth Rigatoni on Sept 20, 2024 16:03:00 GMT -8
Rigatoni scanned the dimly and smoky surroundings of the seedy bar he had just entered. Descending a ramp from the "street" level of Thrawn's Lounge, he felt that he'd found his correct flavor of the establishment. Anything lower would have been too rough for his current level of exhaustion, and anything higher likely would have cast him out. Sighing deeply, he slumped onto a barstool, and carefully adjusted his ladle hilt beneath his black outer cloak. It was good that you could not really see colors down here, or someone might have noticed the bright spot of spaghetti sauce across his left shoulder. Placing both elbows on the counter in front of him, he leaned on his left hand, while staring intently into his right, which he cupped as if holding a palm-sized meatball. After a few moments, a wispy strand of pasta began to form, spinning within his fingers.
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Min
Databank Operations
Happy
Posts: 38
Affiliation: The Jedi Lords
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Post by Min on Sept 26, 2024 14:08:53 GMT -8
[ Eamin “Min” Thunderstone | Bar | Thrawn's Lounge | Commercial District | Residential and District Area | Coruscant ] Attn: Darth RigatoniMin wasn't much for bars, but she figured it was a good place to get information and get food too. Not that she had anything against Sunny's cooking, but the droid's pessimistic outlook was sometimes a bother, and it dampened the mood somewhat, even worse since she was almost always alone while eating. Her senses were drawn to a male Twi'lek sitting at the bar, and she could feel the Force around him. Sith? Jedi? Min wasn't really sure. Well, he was just minding his own business for now, so she figured she'd do the same.
But Min was blasted curious about what the hell he was doing with his fingers.
Careful to mask her own strength in the Force, the redhead settled down about two stools away from him, none-too-subtly eyeing whatever he was doing as she ordered a soft drink.
“Is that a pasta???” she finally asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
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