#ceasefiregala

The Ceasefire Gala - Information Continued from Open Starter (Still accepting!)

esoteriik:

The Knight shifted uncomfortably in her gown. It looked so out of place compared to the fancy dresses and ball gowns other women (and the occasional man) were wearing. Theirs were form fitting, accentuating curves and lines while hers seemed much more… shapeless.

She moved through the room in said gown, picked up a glass of champagne and immediately returned it after a taste. There seemed to be few people she recognized- at least, recognized her and would acknowledge her. Eventually, her eyes landed on someone whose presence was far too familiar- Master Kylo.

The girl walked far too quickly to be considered casual or appropriate. Still, she made her way towards the man, praying that he would tolerate her company until something happened.

Even in the crowd, the presence was unmistakable. That didn’t mean Kylo Ren was pleased with the idea of any of his Knights seeing him... like this. Maskless, out of his usual uniform, hair done back and the rankless dress uniform that itched and chafed at his wounds... never mind the many glasses of wine his associates had somehow managed to convince him to drink... but they were trained too well. There would be no avoiding them once they sensed his presence. 

It was the young woman, the newest recruit to his sub order of assassins. Fantastic. 

Keep your cool. You were still her superior. 

He hated being without his mask. 

The Ceasefire Gala - Information Continued from Open Starter (Still accepting!)

scxvengerjedi @scxvengerjedi

This was ridiculous. A farce! And she couldn’t believe they had actually agreed on that. The Resistance was supposed to be better than that. Mingle with the enemy? For what? Diplomacy? There was no way they could negotiate with any of them.

Finn had refused to come at first, didn’t want to see any of them ever again and Rey could harldy blame him. And she? Well, it wasn’t like she was too excited at the thought that she might run into somebody she’d rather not run into. Then again… she couldn’t deny that everything about this event was entirely stunning. Breathtaking even. She’d never seen anything like it.

The decoration was beautiful, there was music and food and everybody was so nicely dressed it made her heart flutter in her chest and her eyes tear up the slightest bit. Never, not once, had she imagined being at a gala like this. And her dress? It felt so smooth on her skin she almost forgot what sand felt like. And it looked… it looked good, actually. And then her gaze fell upon him. She almost didn’t recognize him in the fancy uniform with hair that wasn’t a mess. Then again, she’d recognize his eyes anywhere. Inhaling deeply, she took a few long strides towards him, her gown floating around her feet and she had to focus not to trip. “So they forced you to come, mh?” Oh she had a whole bunch of things to say to him. But this was the best her brain could do. Probably because she was already the slightest bit tipsy. “You hate it, don’t you?”

It certainly had been an evening thus far. 

He was still on the fence as to what sort of evening it had been, but an evening was certainly had, all the same. 

Between Hux’s torment, and Phasma’s forceful insistence, his Doctor’s encouragement, and enough milling about and careful social dancing, he had managed to drink four glasses of wine, three shots of various liquors, and two more things he wasn’t entirely sure what they were, and the world was seeming... more manageable. If not a bit wobbly. He wasn’t enjoying himself, no, but it had certainly made it more tolerable. He insisted to himself that he wasn’t drunk, though.

At least until he sensed that presence approach, face reddening behind his still healing scar as he glared heatedly over his shoulder.

“You,” She couldn’t know. She would use it to her advantage. Make a fool of him. “This is a... diplomatic move by the Supreme Leader. And a wise one. Of course I must attend.” He did his best to stand tall and speak clearly, glowering down at her with what he hoped was a disinterested expression, like spotting a rodent scurrying out from under a table. There was no hiding the sour twitch to his marred face, though. “I do hope you have been... enjoying the First Order’s hospitality.”

Had she been training? He couldn’t sense much difference, still the edge of power to her, seething with potential... She found him, he was sure, hiding in whatever recluse the old man had managed to crawl... walking in Yoda’s footsteps like the narrow-minded gremlin he was, lurking in a swamp...

Luke feels terribly bare without the weight of his lightsaber clipped to his belt, and after letting himself get so accustomed to robes, the sharp cut of his black uniform is uncomfortable to the point of being almost smothering. No—maybe that’s just the atmosphere here. He hadn’t been particularly good at galas and the like at the best of times, despite how many of them he’d begrudgingly accompanied Leia to in the early days of the New Republic.

Maybe he’ll always be that kid from Tatooine somewhere deep down, and the kid from Tatooine is always going to feel out of place at these sorts of things.

The sight of a surprisingly familiar face is a nice change from standing out of the way and trying to look inconspicuous, at least, even if it does take hearing someone say “Poe” before he puts the pieces together and realizes who, exactly, the man standing near him is.

When asking her opinion on how Ren should have styled his hair for the Gala, @chromecaptain said Man Bun.

Yeah so, please assume in all my Gala threads he’s rocking a man bun.

A man bun and a I hate my life and I hate all of you and shitshitshit my mom is possibly here expression.

I gotta’ draw this shiz like asap.

Help.

The Ceasefire Gala - Information Continued from Open Starter (Still accepting!)

@theredmedic

   {★} She watched him with a small smirk, oh the angry cloud hovering over that mans head could kill a small moon. “AT least your wounds will be able to breath.” she said passing him, a glass of wine in her hand before stopping to his right. “You need to calm down… your nerves are off the charts and i dont need you to go into cardiac arrest right now… that would ruin the night.” she sighed a little feeling the blissful buzz of alcohol in blood.

     She was on a high, and even this angry looking tree wouldn’t ruin it for her. Eyeing him she shook her head. “Re-” she stopped at his glair. “Oh what you dont want anyone to know it you? your kind of standing out like a sore thumb.” she motioned around . “Your the only one in the corner.”

Ren had been so lost in thought, eyes locked across the sea of bodies, he jumped at the sudden voice beside him. “Ruin the evening?” He relaxed only slightly when he realized who it was, although his sour look of distaste remained. That insolent doctor. It could have been worse, though. “I’m fairly certain there’s a large number of people here who would find my death to be a fitting entertainment for the evening.” Sullenly, he took a sip of his water, eyes returning back out to the crowd as though the woman was inconsequential. 

“I’m here simply because the Supreme Leader commanded it. Armor is forbidden. This is simply the only suitable thing that followed the parameters. I see you are enjoying yourself well enough.” Perhaps he was hiding, or trying to. But those he was attempting to avoid knew his face well enough.