Ask Event GALAXIES MOST ELIGIBLE!

[Stranger]

After downing a fifth plate of breakfast, Stranger relaxed while he waited for everyone else to finish. Nothing seemed to sate his hunger, but for the sake of drawing attention he decided to chill out with the food. “Sorry ‘bout that. I’ve just never had a meal like this before- can’t actually remember the last time I ate!” Stranger chuckled. All of these people around him were already wealthy- or at least they were compared to him. Something Stranger knew he could use for pity- maybe they’d even want to get to know poor ol’ Jimi Hendrix and his humble background.

“What’s y’all’s names again? I think I forgot after the third plate, hehe. I’m Jimi, by the way, Jimi Hendrix. I grew up on Taris,” that part was actually true. “Had a wife and a lil chidler on the way.” Jimi said with a smile. “Sorry, if I’m bein’ a lil too much- I’m just perdy happy most the time.” He finished with a warm smile and in his best redneck accent.

 

[Rich Magnum]

Rich would let the gathered eat, mingle, digest, whatever. He wasn't too concerned. He had his drink. However, after an hour or two, he would try to get the contestants attention. "Alrighty folks.. You have a half hour to get ready and then you're going to meet me out by the pool. It's time to get serious. And unfortunately... this isn't going to be good for some of you."

Rich would snap several times. "Todd! Help them get to wardrobe if they need it, then get them ready for the thing."

"You got it Boss!" Todd would scurry around the kitchen, gathering plates and asking the various contestants if they needed help getting to wardrobe or needed help getting to makeup. Meanwhile, the Security team still would be present in the kitchen, with Tal missing.

Magnum would then race outside to where the pool was, already shedding his over shirt to get into something more tropical.

-----

Once they reached they were dressed and ready, tiki torches would line the pool area, with a row of ten of them lit. Each torch would have the name of the contestant etched into it, with Lil Klepti's torch being the appropriate height for a Jawa. There would be a plush beach throne where Rich sat, the torches separating him, from two groupings of five chairs. The names of each contestant would be on their chair. He would wait for each of them to take a seat.

@Aurius @Kestrel @Tess @lizziie @Kell Rook @Mr. Teatime @Tom @Scoobert @Topher

Spoiler: Seating

(I will let you guys choose what side (left or right) you want to sit on.)

 

[Eisa Wex]

Groaning as the Diva responded to her query, the spacer shrugged before grabbing the next bite of her breakfast. "That's surprising, figured you'd be the first one to pull" The fire head spoke whilst nodding towards the Diva's visible assets, before taking a bite out of the rest of the pastry, followed by a mouthful of fruit juice, all the while grinning at the diva before turning her gaze towards to the long haired man, who was starting to become familiar - that's right it was the part time 'lightsider' who shown up out of the blue right after the Sith had fragged a Chandrilian senators estate to all hell. Her eyes rolling at the implication that she was about to launch into a verbal tirade with Prissca.

"Cool your thrusters mr part time Necromancer or whatever!!" Eisa spoke out after she had swallowed down the last of her mouthful. "This is girly talk any way" she added before flashing a wide grin at the Diva. "Since my roomie bunked out last night, we've got some catching up to do" she added with a chuckle. Before returning her attention back to Prissca. "So no one here's taken your fancy yet eh?" she resumed as her attention turned back to the blonde, before shrugging slightly. "Can't blame ya" she added with a slight grin, before she could continue further the host's voice cut over chatter of the the lingering contestants, giving them direction to gather at the pool.

Shrugging at the change of direction, the spacer simply rose up from her seat, topped up her class of juice, before picking it up along with the plate and casually made her way towards the pool area. Food and drink in hand. Once arriving at the pool area the spacer looked over the various names on the chairs, before eventually finding hers over on the right, and simply just slumped down on the chair, and proceeded to continue eating her breakfast. She was out of bed, showered and dressed, what more did they want!

 

[Prissca Kersin]

Prissca shot the other woman a sharp, reprimanding look. "Well, I never! What sort of Lady do you think I am? Do you really think a woman of high breeding such as myself would stoop so low as to have a one-night stand? With this rabble?" The blonde scoffed at the very idea, before remembering Mr. Van Alasdaire was sitting within earshot. "No offense intended on your part, of course. You are one of the very few exceptions, darling." She corrected herself, an apologetic smile on her face. It wasn't long before she was heavily partaking of her mimosas and her breakfast as well. Though, unlike her roommate, she was fully capable of using a fork and knife. She would make quick work of the food she'd been brought, giving up her valuable enjoyment of the meal just to relieve herself of the redhead's company a slight bit sooner.

When she was finished, Lady Kersin would set her utensils down on the edge of the plate to indicate that she was finished. Then she dabbed at the corners of her mouth with her napkin, offering 'Duke Devlin' a freshly chilled glare as she moved to her feet. "I have no fancy to be taken, and even if I did, you would be the last person to know of it. Good day." She would nod to Gram, her tone turning both friendlier and more chipper than it had been a moment before. "Good day."

Passing by 'Jimi Hendrix' on her way out to the pool area, Prissca would pause just long enough to acknowledge his presence, somewhat perplexed that she couldn't remember ever seeing him before that moment, despite the fact it seemed he was a contestant just like the rest of them. Odd. "I am Lady Kersin, Mr. Hendrix. Of the Dromund Kaas Kersins. A pleasure, I'm sure." She introduced herself, offering him a well-practiced smile and a slight nod of her head before continuing outside to settle into her assigned seat.

Why did they so enjoy torturing her? Prissca wondered, frowning as she realized that, yet again, she'd been assigned a seat next to the little gremlin that'd been harassing her since she arrived on this planet. The good Lady would cross her arms under her bust, silently fuming as she waited for whatever this was to be done.

@Aurius @Kestrel @Rhogar @lizziie @Kell Rook @Mr. Teatime @Tom @Scoobert @Topher

 

[Gram Van Alasdaire]

“Lady Kersin. Prissca. I’m not interested in excuses. You are a daughter of high society - show me that you are above your peers.” (In response to her comment about Eisa, way back when)

Gram wasn’t having any of it. Not this morning, and certainly as hell not with this finger pointing. Because it would never end. He took a rather harsh tone with the woman, but it was not out of malice or dislike. It was to remind her that she had a level of discipline to uphold - one she was lapsing in, and had every right to know. Hopefully she would understand that he was speaking to her as an equal. Perhaps lowering her to his meager level, but still, he too was the son of a highborn house. He understood dress and ceremonial to the letter.

“If y’all want to fight each other, Eisa, take it outside. And... necromancy is the art of raising the dead. Totally different to - d’you know what? Never mind.”

Turning back to the new bluecomer, Gram smiled gently.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m just dead inside.”

It was a joke for the Twi’lek’s sake. But he was, in a manner of speaking, death inside. He had passed the threshold medically in the past, plus - loss. Loss. Prissca seemed to single him out for respect, and that was good. He did respect her - and to some degree quite attractive, for a human. Their differing opinions and allegiances was but water under the bridge at present. Whether that would change remained to be seen.

“Try to have fun, Prissca. Let the walls down for once.”

Lots of loss recently. Not much gain. This was the most calming experience he had been allowed to attend in a very long time. It served a reminder to him that this Galaxy was not a hive of scum filled with hostility and bloodshed. No. No, that was just Gram’s life.

Heir to the third house of Rhen Var, Holder of the Sacred Halberd Grim, Keeper of the Book of Vahl - heir apparent to the Phoenix himself. The current, aging Setanta Phoenix had taken the position as the ripe age of twelve, and had maintained it since. Having joined into the Van Alasdaire family by right of his mother’s blood, it would fall to him to garner the responsibility over his cousin - who gave that role up to join the Jedi Order.

“Rip Van Kirk, nice to meet you. You might have heard of my old friend, Waynebow? He’s down in the lower levels of Taris.”

It was pure sarcasm. Not venomous, but enough to make Mr. Hendrix aware that a Vahla could feel a lie when they are told. Besides, Gram was no stranger to utilizing a wide variety of aliases in his line of work. What that work might be? Wouldn’t that be a beautiful question. He was a part time Bounty Hunter, and a part time Mystic - that’s all anyone here would know about him, beyond his family heritage.
Gram would find that he was seated adjacent to Lady Prissca on the opposing side, next to the good natured sapphire Twi-lek.

@Tess @Kestrel @Rhogar @lizziie @Kell Rook @Mr. Teatime @Tom @Scoobert @Topher

 

[Pidge Batana]

Pidge finished chewing a pancake before dramatically rolling her eyes. The difference in treatment between Eisa and Gram would have been comical if it wasn’t so obnoxious. Really, Ilana had been her limit for vanity in partners, and the woman had left before the Twi’lek had woken. She wasn’t classy enough for Lady Kersin? That was a blessing because any night spent with that lady would likely be the opposite of romantic. No doubt Prissca would require a gourmet breakfast in the morning, too. “That poor assistant…” Pidge muttered under her breath.

Despite looking a tad hungover, the gloomy man with shoulder-length hair reassured the Zaa Fenn scoundrel that he was still alive, or that at least his meat vessel was still functioning. For the first time, she detected humor in his voice. The unapproachable facade had been dropped, but Gram’s eyes still betrayed a deep sadness. Something like sympathy welled within Pidge, accompanied by a sudden desire to make him happy. They were supposed to be having fun, and missing out on all the resort had to offer was a tragedy. “Sometimes being dead inside is harder to fix. I can’t just jab you with needles and pump drugs into you like I did with speeder victims at my day job.” While the first part was voiced genuinely, the sentiment was clearly meant as light banter. With that, Pidge left Gram to continue in his discussion with the others to go change.

Half an hour later, a teal Twi’lek strolled onto the pool deck in a white bikini. Perhaps she was over— or rather under-dressed, but she would take the opportunity to tan if there would be no pool shenanigans involved. The suit was newly purchased, and Pidge wanted to show it off. Maybe she could even land a brand deal by ‘advertising’. The extra credits never hurt, even if she hoped to be rolling in credits from working as Crymorah continued to swindle and do crime things. She waited lounging on a chair.

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

Laeonas' unnecessarily awkward route from the kitchen had ended when he slammed the doors of his room back behind him. Sliding down and feeling the painted wood press against his back, he couldn't help but wonder why he was here. There was no way that the galaxy would vote that he was the one who deserved this win. They'd probably pick the aristocratic snake or Bom Trady. An urchin like him wasn't going to get much traction, surely...

His only interactions with the players consisted of half drunken flirting, and very drunken insults accompanied by threats of assault. Beyond this, there were some positives. The audience had cheered during his interview, and they seemed to appreciate his tastes. Hell, it almost seemed like some of the humans actually thought he looked good, which was something he'd never considered. Obviously the carbon scoring, burn scars, acid stains, vibro cuts and unset ribs weren't appealing, so he wasn't going to show much skin...

...intentionally.

Laeonas took the time he could to dress up again, and actually do even the most basic self care. He put on mascara-- and only mascara-- than slipped back into his tight fitting combat pants and a less tightly fitting red synthread shirt. The shirt hugged his waist and chest quite well, but left his arms loose. He looked rathe ridiculous, but there were probably some people in the galaxy who thought it was fashionable. Quietly, he'd slip back into the hallway, trying not to draw attention to himself as he slipped back into the kitchen. His breakfast remained undisturbed, and he was content to eat... until he wasn't.

As usual, the half insane ginger and the stuck up witch had gone back to verbally sparring. This time though, the blonde had wound up indirectly insulting everyone in the room; besides the dejected guy with really bad facial hair. No, she seemed to think that he was a caliber above the rabble. His fingers clenched around the spoon in his hand, resisting the urge to escalate. No, he'd push this as close as he could without getting arrested.

There were a lot of ways that Laeonas could insult this woman. They ranged from tepid jabs to venomous callouts. He could attack her blatant elitism, her obvious superficiality, or how obviously manufactured her persona was. Laeonas had grown up on a world dominated by noblemen just like this woman, so he'd had time to let his anger stew. It was all he could do to not go on a rant, but he'd look terrible in front of the cameras. So, he did the best thing he could do in front of an audience of millions.

"Lady Kersin, of tha Drohmond Kass Kersins, I can promise ya that it won't matter if anyone in 'ere 'as caught yer fancy. Nothing under th'at dress can make up fer an 'eart blacker than mae mascara." He stated, in a tone that, while accented to high hell, was as calm and well mannered as a man like him could muster. Despite his horrible mispronunciation of her homeworld (for all Laeo knew, Dromund Kaas was as great as a star or as small as a hill), almost every other word was clear. He didn't bother to wait for a reaction as he loudly got up, brought his dishes to the sink, dropped them in, and went outside, maintaining eye contact the whole time.

Satisfied with the attempt at verbal murder (regardless of how effective it might be,) the man had walked out and sat in his seat. He didn't want to talk to anyone right now, so he did what he usually did when there was nothing to be done. Closing his eyes, he'd let himself fall into a trance. He'd start paying attention when the vote was called. Until than, he'd give himself to the force.
​

@Tess @Rhogar @lizziie @Kestrel @Topher @Scoobert @Aurius @Mr. Teatime

 

[Prissca Kersin]

“Charmed as always, darling.” She would reply tartly to the strangely dressed man's insults, eyes narrowing just a bit as she silently regarded him. What was he wearing, anyway? He looked ridiculous, and his insult felt even more so. She'd smile at the cameras, of course, making it seem like a friendly little verbal parlay between the two, but she honestly had no idea where his little tirade was coming from. Was he insane? She'd barely spoken a sentence to the absurd little blot of a man up to this point, and he had the gall to outright insult her like that? She didn't seem to care much what he said about her heart, but the things he said about her body?

No no no no, sir!

He had no clue what treasures lay beneath that expensive gown and footwear! NO CLUE! He couldn't possibly comprehend the perfection of her delicately nurtured body, nor the hard work and time she put into being this gorgeous. Beautiful doesn't happen in a day! No, it does not! If the universe was just, he would never get to see one square inch more of her baby soft skin than she was already showing off today. He obviously didn't deserve it! She'd lift her chin just a smidge as she drew the back of her hand across her long neck, brushing her long blonde locks back over her shoulder. “You needn't worry about any of that. I have no interest in men who wear more make-up than I do.”

Should she have taken the high road, as Gram had suggested earlier? Perhaps. But he'd also suggested she have fun and let her walls down. How could she possibly do any of that when she was being insulted left and right by ungrateful little dullards with bigger mouths than brains? She crossed her arms under her chest and pursed her lips in a huff, waiting for Mr. Magnum to get this 'voting' thing underway.

@Aurius @Kestrel @Rhogar @lizziie @Kell Rook @Mr. Teatime @Tom @Scoobert @Topher

 

[Rich Magnum]

As the contestants worked their way out to the pool, RIch would gaze at each one, silently judging them. He looked far more imperious on his throne then normal, and gone were the grins and the smirks. This was a serious part of the show. "Contestants." he would say with a stern tone. "Find your seats. Now is the time for you lot to cast votes on who should no longer be amongst you. So.. You will go in the order of your seating and make your way to the podium." He would snap his fingers, causing Todd to slide a podium out onto the deck. "You will take the paper and pen and write down who you want to go, fold it, then hand it to Todd. You may voice your vote.. Or... you may keep it to yourself. Once all votes have been cast, I shall tally them up."

He would then snap again and Todd would race back to Rich and hand him a full glass of whiskey. "The one you vote will be sent to the Guest House for the duration of the competition. Also, the audience will get a chance to vote for who they want. So now, we will see the merit of your screen time." Todd would then return to the podium, clad in tribal wear that perhaps looked ridiculous on the scrawny intern, but he bore a grim expression.

Spoiler: OOC note

There is no explicit order. Just go as you will. In 24 hours, I will just jump ahead the count for any who don't post. Sorry for delays due to family and health.

@Aurius @Charles @Tess @Kestrel @lizziie @Mr. Teatime @Tom @Topher @Scoobert

 

[Stranger]

Who did Stranger see winning this? Well…not himself. But he wasn’t going to vote for himself either- maybe he could use this to his advantage.

When it was his turn to write down his vote in his seat, he didn’t even try to to hide the name he wrote down- though only the people sitting directly next to him on the right side of the room could see the name. After he finished writing down “Eisa Wex”, he got up and turned in his vote.

The way Wex acted sometimes reminded Stranger of himself, and she made him laugh a couple times. He also didn’t want any of the other more predominately wealthy people to win- they were already living like queens and kings! Why do they need more money? What would you even do with all that money? Spend it?…Well, probably. Stranger would give it away randomly or somehow find a way to make someone powerful go bankrupt as a prank. Or he’d hide it somewhere and then leave a crazy scavenger hunt in his will for some random people of his choice to go find it. That would be fun.

What Stranger really wanted to do with the money was get his Gambit scheme up and running and as far as the property went, he’d probably sell it just because. The Derelict was his home, anyway.

 

[Prissca Kersin]

The good Lady Kersin wasn't one to broadcast her vote like Mr. Hendrix, but it certainly wouldn't come as a surprise to anyone if they happened to sneak a peek at it. Standing from her seat, the blonde would make her way to the podium like a proper runway model, a smile on her lips and a sway in her hips that very nearly offered the other contestants a peek or two at her undies – considering how short her skirt was.

They were pink.

Once there, she would take the pen and paper offered her, about to write when she suddenly realized she still hadn't internalized the name. Kriff, what was that little monkey-lizard's name again? Offering the cameras a slightly embarrassed look, she'd lean over to quietly ask Todd the intern what the name of her roommate was and, after several corrections on spelling, she'd finally manage to scribble out the name and offer the paper to Todd before returning to her seat.

She – quite unmistakably – did not look over at the redhead sitting next to her.

@Aurius @Kestrel @Rhogar @lizziie @Kell Rook @Mr. Teatime @Tom @Scoobert @Topher

Spoiler: Prissca's Vote

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

The man that had been flashy as all hell now sat quietly in his seat. Externally and internally, he was as calm as could be. Earlier, he'd barely been able to contain the building venom in his voice. Yet now, he was as still as a statue. One would think he was a bit touched-- and for all intents and purposes, he might as well have been. Yet in truth, he was to caught up in his meditations to focus on the trivialities of the show.

When their oh so gracious host finally put on a serious face and started telling them to vote, Laeonas finally broke his trance. Blinking a few times, he'd slowly stand, the profane world consuming his senses once again. Recent memories flashed across his mind, particularly those of the noblewoman he'd insulted. Upon recalling her digs, he broke into a grin, a light chuckle escaping from his lips. It'd be odd to any watching, the seemingly random amusement coming after profound silence. Nobody immediately questioned him though, so he casually walked up to newly wheeled in podium.

Glancing at the half naked intern, Laeonas could definitively say that he was glad he hadn't hit him up. He doubted that the young man would've been interested anyways. His eyes fell on the paper and pens (probably another part of the primitive aesthetic?) and he quietly took one of each. Theoretically there were a lot of choices, but in practice, there were only a handful. Laeonas began to ponder, thinking back on the insanity of the past days.

His roommate, the Jawa, had been rude out the gates. Voting him off would leave him with an empty room, to do with as he please. Yet past that they hadn't much interacted with one another. For all he knew, the little munchkin could've just been in a bad mood. He passed him up, for now. When things started to narrow out, he'd vote for the little man.

The next was the huttball star. The man had an air of self importance to him. He was fine to look at, but he hadn't bothered having a conversation with the man. There were a lot more reasons to get rid of him; simple animosity towards wealth, him obviously being present only for some quick attention, and generally being way more uninteresting than he thought. But there were far, far worse people to vote off.

Laeonas honestly couldn't imagine dealing with the pampered prick of a princess for the rest of this. They hadn't interacted at all until his insults, but he'd heard everything. If Trady was full of himself, this woman vomited arrogance every time she opened her mouth. Not even his most strawmanned constructions of nobility compared to the haughtiness of the broad. She had obviously never worked a day in her life, and thanks to all she'd inherited, probably never would. Voting for her would've been out of the question...

...if not for one man.

Chronic alcoholism was one of the things that had defined Laeonas since he was fifteen. The man had a taste for alcohol, and it could never be slated. He'd only ever abstain from drinking when he anticipated danger, or was working. When he was tired, he drank. When he was sad, he drank. When he was happy he drank, when he was bored he drank, and when he didn't drink, the first thing he'd think about would be how he'd get a drink. How the man hadn't died of liver failure at the age of 20 was a mystery to the force, and to himself.

Prissca was, in Laeonas' internal monologue, "An insufferable schutta," but she'd made a good drink. That had been her only redeeming quality-- beyond her ass. When he'd got a taste of her drink, he had genuinely enjoyed it. There wasn't much else in the galaxy that Laeonas enjoyed. A good drink could make up for a week of misfortune, misery, or despair.

But a bad drink could do A L O T of damage.

His internal deliberations had only gone on for a few seconds before he wrote the ranger's name down. He hadn't met the man once beyond his trip to the kitchen, but it didn't matter. Jasper could've spent his days giving carepackages to Brentaal's homeless, pissing on the statues of lords, and personally kicking every dirty cop in the balls, and Laeonas would've still voted for him.

Because the drink Laeonas smelled worse than Brentaal's smog...

...hit him harder than Jasper's boot could've ever hit a cop's nads...

...and tasted worse than the ranger's own piss.
​

@Tess @Rhogar @lizziie @Kestrel @Topher @Scoobert @Aurius @Mr. Teatime

 

[Rich Magnum]

Once all the votes were cast, and Todd had them tucked into the waistband of his tribal wear, the scrawny lad would cross the makeshift steps to Rich's throne. The aide would then remove each vote, one at a time, whispering the results into the ear of the nodding Magnum. After some moments, Rich would clap his hands once, solidly, bringing all noise to a quiet. "The people have spoken. Though, the fate belongs to me. A tie there is, between two contestants: Bom Trady... And Jazz."

He would allow his gaze to wash over the group in a solemn silence. "Either I can remove both, or I can show mercy and spare one." His hands would clasp, his fingertips clicking against each other. "Todd.. You shall decide the fate..."

Todd would look squeamish as all eyes focused on him. "I uhh..." he would look between Trady, a superstar who was only on the show for charity, and then Jazz.. It would be a hard choice, one he would leave to fate itself. Removing a single credit chit from a hidden pocket on his garb, he would flick it up, then catch it, before slamming it down on the back of his other hand. "... Jazz..." Todd would say, trying to eke some form of baritone into his voice.

"Jazz... Your fellow contestants.. and Todd have spoken.. But, that is not all.." Rich would begin. "The people, the fans have taken a vote.. And Jimi... the people have decided it was your time to be voted as well.." He would say solemnly. He would clap twice and a Mandalorian clad in black beskar would step forward. "Nakadr, escort them to the guest suite, where they will remain until the end of the show."

The Mandalorian would nod before heading to collect the two who have been voted off. "Now then.." Rich would say, rising from his throne. "We will have a pool party to celebrate your advancement to the next round."

@Mr. Teatime @Charles @Scoobert @Tess @lizziie @Kestrel @Topher @Aurius @Tom

 

[Taldorak Trenessar]

"Nakadr" would be making his rounds on the pool deck, clad in his black beskar. He would stop near Pidge, his voice lowered, so only she would hear. "Never wise to stand me up, luhv." He'd say lightly, in a tone that let Pidge know she wasn't in any actual trouble. "When you have time, seek me out. No need to not enjoy everything else going on." The Enforcer would say before stepping away.

He would then find himself near Laeo, once again, his voice lowered. "Kid.. We need to have some words." His hand would give the young Force users shoulder a firm squeeze. "They're very important words for you. I'd not dally too long, kid." Between the lowered voice and Rich's surmisal of the results, the Enforcers words were all but muted.

When Rich called for 'Nakadr', Tal would release his shoulder. "Tonight. Anything later, will be very bad." He whispered. A pat, and then the Mandalorian would head across the way to where Jimi and Jazz were. The different armor would all but keep Jimi from recognizing him. "C'mon kids, to the Guest House. You got ten minutes to gather your things, then meet me in the courtyard." The Mandalorian would then head towards the stone path that would lead the pair back to the main house where he would leave them.

@Kestrel @Tom @Charles @Mr. Teatime

 

[Gram Van Alasdaire]

The votes were tallied, and as usual, the young man who went forth to vote was never shy with their choices. It seemed very few actually flaunted their otherwise anonymous votes - likely not to harm any feelings.

That’s, at least, why he had not bothered to reveal his. It was nothing personal, and Gram could have even laughed, but his choice was made by a simple line crossed. That was enough for the Vahla to make his play, drop the cards, and get a new hand. The sabacc carried on.

He did however notice the Mandalorian - one he recognized - once again pull the young man aside. That was twice. And common sense told him that it was likely a deal gone wrong in some way. This was neither time nor place. The Mystic would rise from his seat and attempt to summon his bag from it’s place on his seat.

Unfortunately, it simply flopped and fell. (The dice said I was okay, but, I really felt that was a fail)

Something was off. He could feel it, but, it was more than the events happening here. Something was occurring, something dire, but beyond his control. The young man’s fate, however, was well within his range.

He would meet the Mandalorian, raising his hand as though to motion him aside. Unlike the pair, Gram would make everyone well aware of his intent to converse. He was without his lightsabers at the second, but, Gram hoped his feats in the past afforded him leeway.

“Nakadr, a word, if you would be so kind.”

@Mr. Teatime @Kestrel @Tom @Charles @Rhogar

 

[Taldorak Trenessar]

Gathering those to be voted off, a familiar voice would call out to the Mandalorian. It would take some time for him to recall the voice, but he finally recognized the source. As the two walked off without him, escorted by some of the other security, his visor would focus on the Red Baron. "Gram cracker, been a long time since Nar Shaddaa. I'll make time for you some time later tonight. Or when something frees up, ill know where to find you."

He'd then continue to walk, his visor flitting between the Vahla and his sack on the ground. White Knights were irritable at best to the Mandalorian and though the man was without his sabers, he remembered his skill with the Force.

@Aurius

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

In spite of not really respecting the competition at all, he was still glad that he hadn't been kicked off. It put him a step closer to victory, which would be nice. The person he'd voted for was also gone, "'ope whatever 'e winds up drinkin' tonight's worse than what 'e gave us." He thought, though he took it back, realizing that anything worse than what the sector ranger had given them would probably be lethal.

Allowed to celebrate, Laeonas was able to find an assortment of beverages that weren't just the same shitty naboo wine he'd gotten his hands on. Additionally, he'd finally get the opportunity to do what he enjoyed most; party. Admittedly, the setting was... odd. He wasn't sure why there was a massive pool of water here, or what the value was in it. Wasn't there a small lake just a mile away?

Regardless, Laeonas' upbringing on an urban world with a very arid environment meant that he'd never once had a chance to swim. It wouldn't matter if he was able to though; there was no way he'd be willing to expose himself and dive in. He didn't want the cameras to get a look at how badly scarred his torso was. He'd have fun the way he knew how; by drinking and socializing. However long that would go on, he didn't know.

"Ai!" He called out, spotting the blue twi'lek he'd met the night before. "Can ya stir up some of that fine juice ya put t'gether last night? I'd kill fer some more of that." He coo'ed, giving her an eager smile. He didn't mean anything by it, even if he was drinking, acting super friendly, and looking her up and down. But before he could get a response, the Mando showed up again.

His demeanor was... friendly with the twi'lek. Laeonas raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two and putting on a coy smile. When the man's attention was turned to him, Laeonas almost expected a similar treatment. He'd never actually seen what was under the Mando's armor, but...

"Kid... we need to have some words."

Laeonas stood, frozen in confusion. The Mando spoke with an intensity that he hadn't even heard on their job together. What was going on that was so important? Squeezing his shoulder, he'd add, "They're very important words for you. I'd not dally too long, kid."

Thoughts raced through Laeonas' head, and his heart pumped hard in his chest. First off, how old did the Mandalorian have to be to call a 28 year old man kid? Second off, what could be so monumentally important so as to switch from flirting up a pretty twi'lek girl, to talking to Laeonas with such feverish intensity? Did he need Laeonas for another job? Had he wanted the guy Laeonas voted off to stay on? Was he trying to blackmail or extort him?!

The idle panic ripping through him was stopped by the arrival of the man that the noble bitch had failed at flirting with. He butted in on a potentially dangerous situation, which, had Laeonas not been on the receiving end, he probably would've found annoying. He blinked a few times, confused as to what was going on. Apparently they knew each other... which wasn't good for him.

"...tal, what're ya doin'?" He asked, whispering a bit. "Is this about tha last job? Look, Ai admit it, Ai skimmed a few 'undred creds more than what Ai got paid. Ai'll give ya double; let's just get a drink, right?" He suggested, trying to placate the man. Under most circumstances Laeonas would've been as loud and rude as he usually was, but this was different. He'd seen the Mandalorian fight; pissing him off could very well be a fatal mistake.

He held his breathe, waiting to see what would happen.
​

@Tess @Rhogar @lizziie @Kestrel @Topher @Scoobert @Aurius

 

[Prissca Kersin]

The blonde blinked in surprise as two names she did not recognize were read off as the contestants that would be leaving the show. Jazz? Jimi? She had no recollection of these names at all – until she watched the two men rise and follow the Mandalorian who had been tasked with escorting them to the guest quarters.

Now she remembered them.

Jazz was that dark-haired latecomer from the night before! Yes. The one who'd made so vile a concoction that it sent Prissca and half the other contestants running for the nearest toilet. Or sink. Some didn't even make it that far, but it was certainly clear they all agreed he had to go. All of them but Prissca. She'd been so focused on the annoyance sitting next to her that she'd completely forgotten the young man's transgressions.

A mercy, to be sure.

Then there was Jimi. She felt almost bad for that particular removal. She'd only just introduced herself to him and he was already being voted off? She certainly couldn't remember him causing any trouble in the lead up to being voted off – besides asking the other contestants for their names – so now she had to wonder what he could've possibly done to earn more votes than the obnoxious redhead.

Only the mention of a pool party brought the Noblewoman's attention back to the group at large, the tall woman rising to her feet and almost floating away in her high heeled boots to change into apparel more appropriate for such an event.

It wouldn't take her long.

When she returned, though her hair remained the same, she was now catwalking down the path to the pool wearing a decisively provocative yet almost simplistic strappy black swimsuit designed by Wera Vang. She was also sporting a pair of strappy tropical-themed high heels that laced their way all the way up to her knees. One of the manor's many servants accompanied her on her confident little trot past the cameras, a rolled-up towel under one arm and a serving tray in her hands. Nestled in the palm of Prissca's hand was a fuzzy hard-shelled fruit that had been chopped open and used as a glass for a tropical drink. She thought it was rather cute, if a little crude. Turning to her fellow contestants, she'd smile and beckon them over with her free hand – though she notably didn't direct the invitation at any particular person.

“Care to join me for a swim?”

@Mr. Teatime @Charles @Scoobert @Rhogar @lizziie @Kestrel @Topher @Aurius @Tom

 

[Gram Van Alasdaire]

“Force users are off limits.”

He spoke calmly, silently, only loud enough for Nakadr to hear. But it was clear was he was saying. If harm came to the boy, the Mandalorian would face the same tenfold by Gram’s hand. The very words leaving his mouth caused any and all combustible energy sources existent in the room to increase in intensity for only a moment. Though he was greeted with modicum respect, Gram was remembered, it seemed. Common knowledge (at least to the two of them) that even without his weapons he could roast the Mando alive with his armor still on, before he ever had a chance to draw. The water could be evaporated into steam, and no matter how solid that beskar was, the heat would build and supercharge. Nothing would be able to survive that.

“I have shown you great respect, Nakadr. I rarely treat another as a worthy adversary. It would show both wisdom and prudence to do likewise.”

Gram wheeled on his feet, turning about with his hands clasped behind his back. The Mandalorian would clearly be able to tell he was concerned about Leon and Nakadr both. The Vahla did not wish harm to come to either of them, and wanted to consider the elder mando a friend. But sometimes, in this Galaxy, you do not always get what you want. Picking up his pack and slinging it, he withdrew his hallisket as he walked towards the pool area, gently beginning to strum and sing half-heartedly. It was an attempt to calm his nerves - the mystic detested threatening people, even more so those who had helped him in the past.

“...Let me tell you, buddy. There's a faster gun,
Coming over yonder, when tomorrow comes
Let me tell you, buddy and it won't be long
'Til you find yourself singing your last campfire song.

Yippee-ki-iy-ay
When the round-up ends
Yippee-ki-iy-ay
And the candlelight dims
Yippee-ki-iy-ay
He shouts and he sings
When a Vahla trades his robes for wings

When they wrap my body in the thin linen sheet
And they take my sabers, pull the boots from my feet
Unfasten my droid
He'll be itching to roam
I'll be halfway to heaven under horsepower of my own...”

The Vahla sang as he left to change into his swimming trunks. The navy blue things were his least favorite part of the wardrobe - not to mention he would have to de-rust his cybernetics afterwards. After emerging, he would find the gaggle, his eyebrow raising at Prissca’s offer. She sure she wanted to swim with a cyborg?

“Apres vous, mademoiselle.”

@Tess @Mr. Teatime @Charles @Scoobert @Rhogar @lizziie @Kestrel @Topher @Tom

 

[Taldorak Trenessar]

Tal was pleased to note the panic in Laeo's voice. "Breathe, kid. Don't want you hyperventilating. Just don't keep me waiting, yeah? Drinks, tonight. Guest house. Not about creds." The Mandalorian would then shift his gaze to Gram, stepping away from Laeo to ensure his words were only heard by the Vahla.

"Not when they have a disrespect for my people." Tal would say calmly to Gram, their conversation between them. If it came to it, the Vahla wouldn't be the first Force user the Mandalorian would ever fight. And he would be far from the last one. He remembered Grams love for flames, but fire was slow. The Force, was slow. "Then you know threatening a Mandalorian is a quick way to die, my friend. But ill give you this one lapse in judgement. For Nar Shaddaa. That, is respect enough, friend." His tone was still calm, still level.

@Tom @Aurius