Log:New Alderaan: Noble Shoot

A skeet shoot in the savannah.

OOC Date: Feb 21, 2022
Location: New Alderaan
Participants: New Alderaan, Zhu Yan, Bors Thul, Yari, Nora Frayus, Ban Iskender, Ulani Kalgaav, Dyna Selenis, Ariel Teral, Merek, Aryn Cortess

Music is played over the sound of gentle chatter as well dressed folk mingle about beneath a series of tall tents of canvas used for shade. To be clear, it is not a hot day, or humid, but spring has begun on New Alderaan and the breeze still hints at the chill that's soon to leave them. The ground has had its grass trimmed low, making it easy to traverse, and launchers have been set up nearby with staff conducting practice 'PULL's to ensure the clay discs that are launched go to predictable distances.

Overseeing this crucial task is a tall knight marked by the gold of his cape. This is Ser Lars Syrush, otherwise known famously as, the First Sword of Delaya. "NOCK THE LAUNCHERS!" The Knight calls out, standing idly and comfortable, with a hand resting upon the ornate hilt of his sword.

Meanwhile, at one of the larger tents, Aryn Cortess is looking over an arrangement of firearms set out by vendors intent on selling to the rich. Pompous Lords and Ladies prattle on with the vendor staff, inquiring after particulars like comfort of grip, or 'how it looks in my hand', appropriate holsters, and whether 'size matters'.

Aryn is dressed in a sporting tunic with a fashionable cape that favors her left side, leaving the right uncovered where she has a silver and sleek pistol holstered on her leg. She draws no emphasis to the weapon, but it seems like Aryn has some notion to join the shoot off.

Another tent has an open fire grill going, fresh hunt kills are being butchered, spiced, and slapped onto the grills with a loud sizzle and tantalizing scent. Alcohol is sold from the same area, where speeders capable of cold storage house all manner of beverage. That appears to be the longest line of them all, alcohol that is.

"PULL!" Yells Lars, and the launchers release, sending clays discs high up into the air to sail fair into the distance of the savannah. "Good.. GOOD lads. I daresay that is good enough for government work. Prepare them whilst we get our shooters ready." Lars leaves the line to make his way toward the 'stage' where music is being played. He intended to snag a mic.

"Harrumph, yes, yes of course!" That was the thick and syrupy voice of a rather portly gentleman dressed... semi-regally with a vest and a button-up shirt, tucked tie, black pants and shiny shoes. Practicality for the occasion whilst still looking /fab/. Or he would be if his clothes weren't bought from a department store. Come to think of it, he looked a bit like a hobo attempting to be well-to-do.

This was, of course, ignoring the gigantic moustache that took up his chubby face. Really it was an eye-catcher and an eye-sore.

"Now as I always say, yes indeed I always say, the bigger the better," he regaled to a couple of actual wealthy individuals fawning over a larger model of Theed Arms weaponry. Look at the wood inlays! Ugh, chef kiss, impeccable. "A sizeable piece and a lot of bang is ideal when fending off unwanted advances!" A finger twirled around his moustache, tugging the corner a little bit. "As you can see I possess a fine model here," he said, tapping the thigh holster containing a larger-than-life Bryar that was absolutely the property of Zhu Yan and there was zero mistaking it, "that bears... /considerable/ girth, as I shall demonstrate when the time to partake arrives!"

Zhu Yan... what are you doing here?

And so come the Thul's, Uypiia and Vanko in the lead, Vix, Bayee, Bors and Ulani among the throng of retainers, valets and one very put upon butler droid trailing after the Pilots of House Thul. No amount of physicality getting between him and dressing well, Lord Thul, the younger, clad in formal courtly attire while Kuhlai D'Mahn pulls a repulsor tray with its lid closed for the time being.

"This is a terrible idea, Sister Dearest. I'm a terrible shot." Bors laments to his elder sister, "You're the worst commando then." "I'm a fighter pilot!" "Eh? What's that, I thought I heard a whole cart of bantha fodder trapped in that ever-running gob of yours boy, can't make out what you're blathering." Vix Thul, Lord Thul The Elder ribbing Bors and giving a small elbow to the younger man's ribs before he can protest. "Make the family proud, brother." Uypiia starting back in, flicking some of her sibling's hair into his face.

A parade of figures in black and silver with bits of ruby and midnight blue mixed in. Cue snapping fingers.

Yari's been watching the launchers set up for awhile now, occupying space near the grilling tent. From the looks of her, she's lent a hand to some of that butchering, or so the few feathers still clinging to her braid and the rust colored stains on her leathery apron might suggest. We hope. Otherwise, the Kijimi's recently committed a murder and left the body somewhere out across this savannah.

On the grill-adjacent table/tent are some finger foods: Kaadu jerky Mini Puffer Pig pies Muja fruit tarlets(served with dollops of zoochberry cream) Smoked cheeses (Falumpaset, moof, enough to constipate an army)

In the ground near the grill tent, she's dug a firepit - that might explain away the dirt stains on her knees - and there are currently some manak leaf bundles nestled among the coals there, mystery contents roasting away.

One such noble lady prattling on about goodness knows what is Nora Frayus. Unlike those participating in the shooting competition, she's not inspecting the various weaponry being offered for contestants to fire at the clay pigeons. -Like- those contestants, however, she's armed with a weapon. It is a small, cute Coruschal "Dagger" that has been slightly modified to look a touch more ornate than its traditional offering. A smart little grip and a slightly elongated barrel, apparently, make the weapon a touch more sporting to shoot. The way she holds it is that of a woman not only with a lack of knowledge of the particular weapon, but an active sort of disdain for it. Head tipped to the side, eyes narrowed, she lets it sort of sway back and forth between her thumb and forefinger before setting it down on the table in front of her.

She sighs and leans forward to rest her elbow on the table and her chin in her palm. Big blue eyes stare across the table towards Ulani, who may or may not have been looking a little concerned with Lady Nora's carefree and reckless handling of that rather lethal weapon. Legs crossed, her free hand reaches down to smooth itself over her elegant, black skirt.

"I do believe you have the right of it, Miss Kalgaav. Father intends for me to shoot those--" Lady Nora is interrupted briefly by the sound of the clay pigeons being FIRED into the air. Her eyes narrow and she gives another one of those Nora Frayus sighs.

"As I was sayi--" And this time she's being interrupted by Zhu Yan who, let's be honest, seems to be a little out of place at this particular gathering. Nora turns to look at the loud man with an air of scrutiny.

"How can a man be so short and so wide simultaneously, Miss Kalgaav?" she wonders aloud, before offering a slender shrug. "One of the galaxy's many mysteries, I suppose. Anyway darling, how -are- you? Wedding plans? Pray, tell me -everything-," she says.

Ban Iskender is conversing idly with a number of the nobility, one gloved hand holding a goblet, the other composed at the small of his back. A sheathed sword hangs at his right side, an elegant pistol holstered at his left. He pointedly is not noticing Zhu Yan's exuberance.

She's capable of shooting a gun. Black Squadron saw to that, but today is a day for festivities and fun. And frankly Ulani doesn't have much of a taste for handling weaponry even when the situation calls for it, so today she has come strictly to root on the participants. Her grey and white dress is enough to make it past the knees, flared out in pleats and tight around the torso. Over her shoulders is a heavier cloak of black and silver that just barely misses the short blades of grass as she walks with House Thul.

The ribbing and jests Bors receives from his family gets her to smirk a little. Nonetheless, as they depart for their seats, Ulani is the last to leave. Turning to face Bors, she dotes a bit with the folds of his fine clothing and a brush of his hair back into place from the wind. "You will do fine, my love. I have see thee in action." Hang around long enough with those speaking High Galactic and some of it starts to seep in. A squeeze of his hands, she lifts up on her toes and kisses him on the cheek. Must be chaste. "I will be rooting for you."

With that, she departs and finds herself soon next to Nora who is sitting near where the other Thuls have gone. How lucky! Before she can comment on the weaponry, her attention is drawn to the stout, portly man with the moustache. "Ah, I am not sure. He doesn't look familiar to me." Then there is queries on wedding plans and /that/ she can answer. "Oh, none yet. More vague details at the moment. All our attention and funding has been going into the Thul estate's construction in the mountains just south of here."

For once, Dyna wasn't dressed in a business suit. Or at least, not just a business suit. It wasn't completely outside the realm of possibility that she was wearing one under her flight-suit, though unlikely given the tight fit of the suit. It was something she occasionally wore during flights and, she felt, the most appropriate item to wear for the occasion that she had on hand. She was currently positioned by one of the tents, fiddling with an old carbine rifle that's probably seen better days. Checking over the ammo clip, she tsks lightly when she realizes the clip is empty. "Figures," she mumbles before taking a fresh clip in hand and popping it into place. After double checking it was secure, she'd make her way toward the firing line. "Been a while since I've fired a blaster. Here's hoping my aim hasn't gotten any worse."

One Senator of New Alderaan has finally made her way over to where the shooting was going on. Ariel had been up to her ears in missives and other things, so she's not the usual smiling gem that she is. She's wearing her armor given if anyone shoots at her she's wanting to live through it. She takes up a place off to the the side, her head of security standing next to her and speaking quietly with her as others do their thing.

Lars' voice announces over the loud speaker:

"My Lords, My Ladies.. to those good folk participating in the games today, I ask that you find a place on our firing line. Only those shooting may be on the line, all others may enjoy the shaded seats and and wonderful view of the action. I must ask that due to the loud nature that accompanies the use of firearms that all good folk please make use of ear protection. As a man with tinnitus, I can confirm regret in having avoided its use till now."

Ser Lars' dry joke earns a few chuckles as the crowd begin to meander from one covered area to the next. Blue cloaked guards take a stance to forbid any youth from running into the fire zone, and for the sake of sporting marksmanship, range flags have been set out at measured distance to account for wind if any among them used old-fashioned slugs.

Aryn Cortess is seen joining the firing line, taking a spot near the end. She holds her wine for now, sipping and waiting for everyone to get settled. Ser Lars is seen walking beyond the firing line boundary to help people (who may be too inebriated) find where they should be standing.

"Huh?" This was the noise of a portly man who may well have suffered tinnitus from a near-lifetime of firing a lot of blasters in very enclosed spaces. "I say, I say, I shall rejoin you in haste," he waffled on in the direction of the noble couple of NPCs that had long since tired of his affectations, "it's time to prove that bigger is always better!"

Zhu Yan's disguise wasn't even much bigger than he was. Sure, his facial lines were thrown off due to cheek pads but he'd undercut that with the gigantic moustache that threw his whole face into question anyway. Like most things, he had not thought this through. His place on the firing line? Dead center. It fit with his nasty case of protagonist syndrome.

From his holster came a lovingly-maintained if beat-up and heavily-used Bryar pistol, with a barrel that damn near put it into Carbine territory and advanced SmartTrak circuitry built into the top sights. Yan's disguised form did nothing to hide his glee. He was, after all, a terrific shot and a fantastic lover.

Knowing him, when the actual date is set down it will be something ludicrously stereotypical, overly romantic and embarrassing for everyone not Bors and Ula.

The former of the pair, having been primped and preened by the latter, heading to the firing line after a quick lean to steal a peck on Ula's cheek while Kuhlai continues on after.

"The rifle or the carbine, sir?" asked once Lord Thul is near again, "Carbine to start?" brow raised, which Kuhlai raises in response - the pair sharing the look practically all the way over to where he is supposed to be positioned.

Oooooh boy. Ear protection! It's not an accessory that Yari ever supposed she'd be needing to wear and while her initial reaction to hearing the warning is to simply turn off her ears, a small voice inside suggests that this will not actually protect the anatomy of the inner ear that a certain Resistance-Jedi-Doctor-Princess surgically magicked into functioning.

Someone manning the grill pauses in their work to stuff little buds into their ears. Is that what the packet of gummy things were that they slipped her earlier in the day?

The lanky mountain gal wipes hands on her apron and fishes around in her pockets until she comes up with the goods, grateful she hadn't mistaken them for candy...yet. She /could/ go for a snack, though. Once package is popped, she finaggles each one into her ear holes and listens to the audible world get a little bit muffled. Syllables become less crisp, volume lowered, but it won't be a problem for a girl who knew nothing but lip reading and some hand signs for the first 23 years of life!

Nora's eyes remain on Ulani now, peering at the woman across from her with an intensity and a curiosity that some find unsettling. Still, Lady Frayus is friendly enough, idly turning the fingers of her free hand over to run across the metal housing of the pistol on the table between then. She lightly taps twice on the pearled grip just before she speaks.

"Building an estate is lovely in its own right, but the two of you should find time for yourselves. You will only be engaged to be wed once," Nora says, and then those cold eyes seem to warm for just a moment as her lips quirk into an impish smile, "If he is as smart a man as he speaks."

When Ser Lars makes his announcement, Nora turns his attention in her direction. A waitor arrives to deliver a spread of this evening's offerings. Kaadu Jerky, mini puffer pig pies, Muja fruit tartlets, and a delicious smoked cheese. Nora's eyes remain on Ser Lars as he speaks until he is finished, though she's already reaching for one of those tartlets, as if sensing it from her periphery.

"Oh... do we think we are far enough away?" Nora says, glancing towards a pair of protective ear-thingers that have been laid out on the table. Her nose wrinkles. "...I thought those were laid out in jest," she says, and then takes another bite of tartlet, covering her mouth as she chews. "Mmmmm... delightful. Ulani, you must try some," she says.

"You said you have never met that noble man? The fat one? I do not believe I have ever seen him at court. A sporting moustache, however. I wonder which House he belongs to," Nora muses, and then spots Princess Cortess and Lord Bors. "Ah! And there is your betrothed. Dashing as always. And Her Highness. What a splendid cape," she says. Nora clears her throat. "Ahem! Good luck, your grace! I shall be cheering you on!" she yells out.

Four nobles at the next table over choose to don their protective earwear. Nora remains oblivious.

Ban Iskender concludes his conversation shortly after the call for shooters to step toward the firing line. Handing an empty goblet to an attendant, he offers a dignified, "Your Highness," in greeting to Aryn, with similarly polite acknowledgement offered to those others standing nearest.

Shifting more comfortably in her seat, Ulani adjusts the cloak on her shoulders with a tug to make sure the hem is not resting on the freshly cut grass. The stains. The staaaaains.

Nora's curiousity and intense staring isn't so much off-putting though it does cause a bit of a colour to Ulani's cheeks. "Indeed, that is true. Rest assured we find plenty of time for ourselves, but there are so many matters of importance that beg for attention. The estate being a more personal one, true, but these developments coming out of Chandrila and such. Quite alarming. Plus the building of the Alderaan Squadron, which my beloved Bors is spearheading." Ulani reaches over and puts a hand on Nora's hand with a soft pat. "I am sure we'll work in some time for planning the joyous occassion, though. He's a shameless romantic." Though Ulani certainly doesn't seem to mind.

The offer of tartlets and cheese do not go ignore and the young woman accepts a bit of each on her own little plate. "Thank you kindly," to the staff before they move on to the next cluster of nobles. Settling in, she looks over to Bors carrying on with Kuhlai and smirks. "I daresay sometimes I wonder if I must contend for my love's affection. But I cannot come between those two, mm?" A playful nudge of her elbow to Nora's arm.

"Oh, Her Highness is looking stunning. And there is Lord Ban, as well. I do not think I have seen him shoot before."

Dyna furrows her brow a bit at the suggestion of protective earwear. A glance is given toward the other participants before she retrieves a set to pull over her head. She gives the covering a curious tap before returning to the line. Spotting Aryn down the line she smiles and gives a curt nod to the woman in greeting before hoisting her carbine again. A curious glance is given toward the short, fat noble toward the center, noticing the attention he seems to have garnered from some of the others gathered.

Herol points a few things out to Ariel as things start, neither of them are shooting. She preferred to hit things up close and personal...plus she lacked a proper gun. She gives a smile to a few people that speak to her, but for the moment the green eyed woman watches the people that she knows and their shooting. Giving applause when it is appropriate.

"If I may have your attention once more," Lars calls out, walking the firing line bravely with one hand upon the pommel of his sword and the other holding the voice amplifying device (it's shaped like a comm-link.) "Please prepare your firearms now, leaving them on SAFE until you are ready to fire. Please turn your attention to the launchers behind you, and the staff member manning it. When the command to commence firing is given, you may prompt the launch of up to THREE discs by saying PULL! This will be for each clay disc. After three, the launchers will require a moment to restock, then we begin again."

"Today is about sporting marksmanship, not so much competition. Show off your favorite firearms, and share your endorsements with the vendors watching their craftsmanship at work. Keep in mind that ANYONE on the firing line may call CEASE FIRE. When such is heard, all firearms must be returned to safe and placed back within their respective holster. I wish you all good fortune in your shoot." Ser Lars moves off to one side, stepping off the firing line. His voice is heard over the loud speaker again. "The firing line is HOT. My Lords.. My Ladies.. good folk.. you may commence firing at your leisure."

Aryn passes off her goblet to Ms. Caysa, her Lady-in-Waiting, smiling after their brief exchange before returning to the line. Lord Ban is greeted with a wider smile, cheeks turning a little red. "My Lord, I certainly hope the lessons you gave me in marksmanship hold true. I do not mean to embarrass you should I fail." She draws a silver Westar-34 from its leather holster and ensures the safe is on. A casual glance down the line and Aryn greets those near, including Dyna who had nodded. Aryn is sure to point out (to Dyna) Mr. Zudro Vad of Adasacorps further down the line; a salty Arkanian businessman they dooped on Ord Mantell. His egregious attitude during business prompted Aryn to invite him to the outing, if only to make the Arkanian more uncomfortable and out of his element. Aryn grins.

Waving to Nora, Ulani, and everyone else, she finally turns her attention to the First Sword as he prompts them with instructions on what to do.

At the command to fire, the smug Arkanian yells "PULL -- PULL -- PULL" and promptly misses a trio of times, releasing a string of curses there after!

"Ahem!" was the loud and completely unnecessary throat clearing noise from the portly noble that hid the similarly-portly Zhu Yan. "PULL!"

The only thing louder than Yan shout was his moustache. And the only thing louder than /that/ was the sound of the Bryar going off. Releasing a truly overcompensating glob of energy, the first bolt streaked out and vaporized the first clay pigeon thing in a satisfying explosion.

"PULL!" The second clay pigeon sailed off into the sunset, presumably to make baby clay pigeons, as the overheated fury of Yan's Bryar missed it by a country mile.

"PULL, egad!" There was no reason to say egad other than for sheer style, but the third bolt created another pretty yellow explosion. "Ahai! Two out of three! Behold!" he declared, turning and making a little bow with his gun still in his hand and his finger away from the trigger, because the last thing he needed was a repeat of the other week when he nearly blew his Little Yan off. At least he wasn't wearing socks and sandals this time.

"So the carbine." Kuhlai nods and tips his fez before going about opening the blaster case for it, "I had assumed so, it's much more your style." "What is my style?" a blink from the lord as he extends a hand towards his valet, "Reckless and too quick to open rapid fire when a single shot would be preferable?" "Really, Kuhlai." One of Bors's brows is up and the other raises just enough that his monocle falls - only to be caught by the butler droid to his side - which quickly polishes it and puts it back before the Lord Thul's eye, "Thank you, Jeeves." "Of course sir! I live to serve!" "Well I love to serve." Kuhlai offers trying to look bored at the same time - putting the EE-3 into his lord's hand. "Love to serve... hrmmmm. I would hope you feel that you assist - serve puts a poor note on our relationship. Have I driven you thus, my dear friend? I would wound myself thoroughly if I thought I had created a burden for you?" Bor's head tilts to look over the carbine - though his attention is clearly for the portly man in the red fez. "Oh! Dear friend now. Well if that was the case I'd lose my salary if I was doing this all as just a friend. Love to serve, my lord. We'll keep it at that and I'll keep my paycheck, benefits, valet's apartments, personal speeder." pausing when Bors looks to him, "That is actually your speeder that I happily chauffer Miss Ulani in, when you're not terrifying her out of her wits with what you call piloting." "Mmmmm." Bors finally looks back to Kuhlai and the pair share a look, "You're my favorite, Kuhlai." "Ulani." "Who?" "You're betrothed. She's your favorite." "PULL! PULL! PULL!" the droid butler. So excitable. "OH! Oh yes. Quite right?" turning when PULL is called, "OH!" the deep throaty bark of the weapon sounding off with a SHOOOONK SHOOOONK SHOOOONK and a rush of heated air to blow back his hair from his eyes that he might see his singular success while the other clay discs hurtle off in mocking arcs. What if they had hands, would he be getting two sets of the double eagle?! A mystery. "Good shot sir. She'd do far better if she'd heard you though." "It's a -HABIT- Kuhlai." watching those last two mocking disks with a childish pout. "She is my favorite. You're my second favorite." "Very good sir."

PULL *pew* And an inedible pigeon bites the dust. And another. And another...

Yari blows a long exhale slooooowly through pbbbbbbting lips until puffed cheeks have deflated in full and expelled every ounce of that sigh. It's the sigh of one who doesn't know what to do with herself. She pokes at some of the manak leaf bundles with a stick and flips them over. Her other hand gets busy untying the apron and kicking it into a heap far away enough from the heat so as to not buuuuurn. A timer is set on her datapad aaaaand...it's time to mingle.

With mouth full of cheese, Yari clomps along the back of the tents - pauses for a horn of ale - and continues on to where she'd spied a certain other redhead...and the chatty chick in her company.

Nora's nose wrinkles and she lets out a soft little laugh when Ulani nudges her with her arm. "Ah, indeed. It is a tall order to come between men and their toys," Nora says. She reaches down to grasp at the stem of her wine glass. Within it, a plum purple liquid is swirled around in a lazy circle, running ruby red as it thins along the side of the crystal. She takes a sip and hmmms thoughtfully. Really, she's far too young to appreciate a good vintage. This one tastes a bit like smoke. "I do so wish I could pull off capes as well as she does," Nora says, and tips her head, "...Or pants." When the topic of conversation switches to Ben Iskander, Nora's head tips to the side and she lightly sips from that glass again. She's been drinking for a good solid hour, dear reader, so you'll forgive her for this next bit of schoolgirl vulgarity.

"Ah, but I suspect Her Highness has," Nora says. It's a direct reply to Ulani claiming to have never seen Ban shoot. Saucy.

When the blaster fire starts ringing out, Nora jumps, laughs, and reaches up to cover her ears with her hands. Thankfully, that wine glass isn't being cupped in her palm when it does, or else there'd be plum-purple wine everywhere. Instead, she's just making high pitched woo-girl noises and laughs that are both mercifully drowned out by the sound of blaster fire. Hersryn's wave is responded to. Three shots. Three dead pigeons. More excited 'woooo' sounds from House Frayus. Well, at least, from their Heir Apparent.

"AHHH! INSPIRED SHOOTING, EVERYONE!" she yells, somehow louder, given she's covering her ears with her palms.

Ban Iskender affects a stance more reminiscent of dueling than of the battlefield: standing in profile, back straight, head high, off hand resting behind his back, and pistol extended at arm's length. A short nod aside to the pigeon flinger, to prompt the shot... but the attendant is awaiting the word. A short breath let out through the nose, a d Ban obliges: "Pull." It's an unfamiliar command, and the gentleman pronounces it with subtly more emphasis on the 'l' than most. His first shot goes amiss, promoting a small, short lived smile from the dragoon. His following shots are better; the second blasts the edge of a pigeon into pieces, the third is destroyed utterly. The gentleman double checks the small power pack, and instructs his attendant, "I shall require further munitions following the next volley." A second power pack is prepared.

Nora's nose wrinkles and she lets out a soft little laugh when Ulani nudges her with her arm. "Ah, indeed. It is a tall order to come between men and their toys," Nora says. She reaches down to grasp at the stem of her wine glass. Within it, a plum purple liquid is swirled around in a lazy circle, running ruby red as it thins along the side of the crystal. She takes a sip and hmmms thoughtfully. Really, she's far too young to appreciate a good vintage. This one tastes a bit like smoke. "I do so wish I could pull off capes as well as she does," Nora says, and tips her head, "...Or pants." When the topic of conversation switches to BAn Iskander, Nora's head tips to the side and she lightly sips from that glass again. She's been drinking for a good solid hour, dear reader, so you'll forgive her for this next bit of schoolgirl vulgarity.

"Ah, but I suspect Her Highness has," Nora says. It's a direct reply to Ulani claiming to have never seen Ban shoot. Saucy.

When the blaster fire starts ringing out, Nora jumps, laughs, and reaches up to cover her ears with her hands. Thankfully, that wine glass isn't being cupped in her palm when it does, or else there'd be plum-purple wine everywhere. Instead, she's just making high pitched woo-girl noises and laughs that are both mercifully drowned out by the sound of blaster fire.

Aryn's wave is responded to. Three shots. Three dead pigeons. More excited 'woooo' sounds from House Frayus. Well, at least, from their Heir Apparent.

"AHHH! INSPIRED SHOOTING, EVERYONE!" she yells, somehow louder, given she's covering her ears with her palms.

The smoked cheese are divine, but those little puff pork pies? Oh my goodness! Ulani quickly brushes some of the flakey, buttery crumbs from her very nice dress and pats her mouth with a napkin. "Oh, Kuhlai is a cherished member of the family, really. He--- oh, this /must/ be miss Yari's cooking. I'd know this from anywhere. I am telling you, Lady Nora, Miss Yari's capabilities would not be out of place in a noble's kitchen."

She is talking a bit louder than usual. What with the ear protection and whathaveyou. Though sitting right next to her conversational partner and speaking in between shots does a lot to help. She is taking a bit of a tart and waving encouragingly in Bors' direction when Nora's quip about the nature of Iskender's shooting prowess and Aryn's witnessing of such catches her completely off guard.

She suddenly inhales a piece of mjua fruit, it goes down the wrong pipe, and now Miss Ulani Kalgaav is trapped in a most embarassing coughing fit.

At Aryn's indication, Dyna glances toward the Arkanian present and a small smirk crosses her lips. And when that Arkanian takes his three shots, each one of them missing, she'd stifle a small chuckle and shake her head. Well, if nothing else, with him there the bar was set nice and low. Dyna flicks the safety off on her own combine and prepares to fire.

"PULL!" The Hapan woman calls out and the first clay pigeon flies. There's a loud 'THUMP' as Dyna's old N'gant-Zarvel 9118 fires off a shot, missing the first pigeon. She tsks her poor aim and adjusts before calling out again. "PULL!" Another clay pigeon fires and another 'THUMP' as the carbine fires, this blast finding its mark and blasting the clay pigeon to pieces. "PULL!" The third pigeon is launched and another shot fired, blasting the last pigeon to pieces as well. Dyna takes in a breath and lowers her blaster.

"Well, not -too- rusty it seems. Still need more practice though I feel." She glances toward the other partipants that had fired before her. Seemed so far, at least, she was about average, which was better than she had been expecting.

Ariel's still standing back a good ways in conversation with her main guard. The redhead gives a smile to Herol and then a polite nod is given to a small group that approaches them to speak. She is good and doesn't shoot anyone a 'please shoot me' look. But the people were indeed just passing and sharing pleasantries so the woman is relieved a bit. She then whispers something to Herol and motions at the shooting.

Aryn locks one hand behind her back and presents herself sideways with a smaller profile. Her blaster is brought up, her arm folded so the muzzle is aimed skyward until she is ready. An aside to the staff member at the launcher, and she says, "PULL -- PULL -- PULL!"

Aryn watches as all three pigeons sail into the distance and she takes a moment to aim, lowering her pistol so that it is ahead. Distinct shots discharge in quick succession and the red lances it produces shatters all three discs in quick order. Aryn brings her weapon back, initiating the safe as her staff member completes the restock.

Ser Lars announces, "We have a few shooters coming off the line now. New spots are open to any shooter who would like to join. Remember, to prompt your staff member to release the clay disc by saying PULL. You may fire three times, then allow some time for the staff to restock."

"WOO, GO LORD BAAAAAAN! WOOO!" Screams a Lady Avlin, the child Duchess of Delaya (the rightful heir that is) who has just arrived with a few other nobles. Several from the court have started to address her in passing, bowing slightly and offering honorifics. THe child seems more eager to see Ban shoot.. well, until she sees the pudgy mustache extraordinaire. "Who is that good fellow, there? His gun is largest, I wager it is the bestest!" Avlin says with enthusiasm. She moves to find a seat so she can watch, and is urged to wear ear protection.

"Shooters on the line, I have word the launchers are restocked! You may commence firing when ready!"

Um, excuse me. I don't hear you CLAPPING! Zhu Yan didn't need to try to look that ruffled from lack of attention, all he needed to do was shove it through the filter of Alderaanian nobility. Which, considering the planet was blown up before his lifetime, was basically just getting a bit haughty and letting out an "I say," before turning back to the firing line.

"Ahem." Oh boy here we go. "PULLPULLPULL!"

Three discs fired into the air at near-repeater pace, and the Bryar was hovering around hip level because Zhu Yan just could not /help/ himself. Light exploded from the barrel of the blaster three times, Yan palming the archaic hammer to lighten the trigger load each time. The fact that he hit the first two was a miracle in of itself, a fine display of sharpshooting and unnecessary flair.

Normally he saved that for point-blank, see.

"Jeeves, I say pull, next time." Bors gives the droid a 'look' before he spies Ulani's wave and in turn blows her a kiss that causes his arm to smack the droid in the face - sending it stumbling back for Kuhlai to catch and keep upright and the Lord Thul is made to look side to side, chagrinned for his unintentional physical anarchy.

But Ulani is also given a sparkle-finger wave that is met with Uypiia blowing a shrill whistle between two fingers, "Stop futtering about and give some proper shooting, brother!" laughing brightly and leaning into her husband's arm. Vanko giving a tight, but genuine, smile in addition to a huffing sound that gets him an elbow from Countess Thul and more laughter in the Thul ranks. No malice though, and the Countess does not seem to think it a negative.

"Good now, lets try to show that we're only partially incompetent on the ground." "As opposed tooooooo" Kuhlai begins only for Bors to stomp his foot with a LOOK combined with Kuhlai's pained "PULL!" and Bors goes back to shooting, "PULL!" said in short order before another quick, "PULL!" and Bors is hard pressed to catch up.

In truth the second shot is a miss and it gets Bors's momentary disapproval before the third erupts.

"Dirty pool, Kuhlai..." "You stomped my foot!" "It was the wind." "The... hru... bru... fru..." "Yes, the wind." Bors looks onward though, pleased with himself.

Ban Iskender raises a black brow and turns to regard the young Duchess at her boisterous 'Go Lord Ban'. The corner of his mouth curling in amusement, the gentleman offers a short bow of the head and shoulders, before jesting deadpan, "Pray, where shall I 'go', Excellency?" Allowing the smile to deepen for an instant so the child doesn't think he is mocking her, Ban returns his regard to the line when his turn arrives. After his first errant shot, the dragoon's aim had been constant, and this round sees all three marks destroyed. Holding a gloved hand out to receive the fresh blasterpack, he replaces the cartridge that was spent with the six shots thus far.

Merek is of course here to work on his gunslinging and to meet new people. He walks along with his dark attire on, the silk seeming to be Coruscanti though it's an old fashion. He keeps a cape along the shoulder and takes the time to speak to the person attending him. "Pull, Pull, Pull!" Each time he will sling the blaster, he manages to take one of the targets. The persuader is a holdout, it isn't too fancy though he seems to know what he's doing!

Nora Frayus' attention is on Ulani now. It's not that clay pigeons aren't terribly exciting, but there's something about the slightly bulging eyes and hurried eating that has this little gossip's attention. Her eyes narrow and her lips thin, pulling up into a smug little smile as she rests both elbows on the table. Her legs uncross, only to cross again, shifting which thigh sits atop the other. Her fingers lace together to form a platform that she can rest her chin atop of, pink hair spilling over slender shoulders as Ulani attempts to hide her blushing cheeks behind a tartlet with little success.

"Ahaaaa, Miss Kalgaav!" she says, pure elation in her voice, "Do not play so coy. I suspect you will enjoy your share of matrimonial bliss soon enough."

Nora now opts to actually put on those earguards, which look positively ridiculous with her slinky black dress and Hapan high heels. She picks up that Coruschal Dagger and holds it like someone who's never smoked holds a cigarra. This is likely a bad idea.

"I am going to go shoot some of these wretched little clay discs," she says. Given how she's just pounded that wine, this is probably a bad idea. Ah well!

"As skilled with a blaster as you are at the negotiating table I see," Dyna comments with a chuckle after seeing the results of Aryn's shooting. Assuming, of course, the lady could even hear her under the current circumstances. Taking in a breath, she raises her carbine again, waiting until a few of the others have gotten off their shots before calling out, "PULL! PULL! PULL!" A trio of heavy 'THUMPS' sound off and three red blaster bolts fire off into the air, two of them missing their marks entirely but the third manages to strike a clay pigeon and blasts it to pieces. One this round. Better than nothing, at least.

A fist hits her sternum a few times, dislodging the wayward piece of fruit and leaving Ulani in the aftermath of a very raw throat and a face several shades more red than before. Lord Vando Thul is kind enough to hand her his glass of wine to which she raises is gratefully; still unable to voice anything immediate.

A sip. Two.... a third for good measure and Ulani at least finds her voice again; allbeitraspy. "I... uh..." Finds her voice but no words. Sitting amongst her in-laws-to-be, she's not exactly prepared to speak on the physical bliss of matrimony and whether or not it has been had prior to the oaths.

In fact, she is trying her damnest NOT to look over to the other Thuls. Oh, gods. Mother and Father... help this poor woman.

Ariel is watching everything unfold out near the shooters and she gives a bit of a glance to Herol, "This is normal?" the Senator asks of her guard. He gives her a hand wobble, "Not really?" he tells her. "Should I retrieve you a drink, my Lady?" he asks her.

"Alas, my experience is from the war. I prefer negotiating. Not as loud, well.." Aryn comments back to Dyna, then looks down the line to Zudro who is cursing despite 'winging' one of the discs. He's claiming his pistol is malfunctioning. "Usually not as loud," She amends with a smile. Aryn turns from Dyna to look ahead. This time, when she screams "Pull! -- Pull! -- Pull!" the result is only two of the three hit. Aryn seems hardly bothered by the miss, and even giggles as it sails off into the distance. "Fly away little pigeon!"

Down the line, Lady Kiko of House Alde has arrived and throws open a case to pull out her shotgun. Feeding a series of spreadshots into it, she racks the receiver and screams with all the intensity of a battlefield commander, "PULL!" BOOOOOOOSH! CHIK-CHUNK! "PULL!" BOOOOOOOOSH! CHIK-CHUNK! "PULL!" BOOOOOOOOOOSH! CHIK-CHUNK! Kiko's grin looks equally satisfied and therapeutic in some weird way. "Now Lady KIKO has the biggest GUN!" No, Avlin, technically, Lord Bors had the largest gun!

"Capital shooting, my Lord," Aryn comments to Ban, grinning. "I seem to have inspired your marksmanship a bit." She bites her lower lip slightly, then resorts to a crooked grin.

Ser Lars calls out another restock, and a few minutes later, "Shooters! You may commence firing when ready!"

Welp. Yari almost made it as far as plopping herself down onto lawn in Nora's vacated space, but there's a shout from the grill and...duty calls. Scurrying back like she was never there, in a clumsy, ungraceful scurry that doesn't lend itself to inconspicuous slinking but *does* incur a bit of beer spillage. Yari comes to the rescue of food that was almost TOO roasted. So much for timing it.

The manak bundles are scraped hastily out of the smoldering firepit and delicately unpacked onto awaiting platters. The contents? Roasted tuber medallions (various tubers sliced into thick medallions, coated in herbs and butter). It'll pair well with the game that's been slapped on the grill, for sure.

"I daresay La... hang on." It was loud, you see, amidst the firing lines with launchers and blasters and people yelling PULL at the top of their lungs, therefore the aristocratic backside of the overly pompous Zhu Yan had to be LOUDER. Not that the noise was coming from his backside, that would be unseemly, and also would be in defiance of having not yet eaten which in itself was peculiar.

Where was I? Oh yes. "I DARESAY LADY KIKO, I AM IN POSSESSION OF A TA-SIXTEEN REPEATER WEAPON AT MY DOMICILE!" Brings a whole new meaning to the term 'is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me'. "I CAN SHOW YOU IF YOU LIKE!"

Nobody tell EJ that Yan was here trying to show off his guns to noblewomen. He would /never/ hear the end of it. "PULL PULL PULL!" Three discs flew, the Bryar blat once, then it beeped obnoxiously with a BATTERY EMPTY alert. "What! Egad!" Looks like Yan had blown his load too soon!

"Two out of three isn't bad." the droid offers, while Bors and Kuhlai both turn to look at Kiko's shotgun, her shouting and the kraka-BWOOSH of her shots. Then those two and the droid look to one another, then back to Kiko, then at Bors's carbine.

"Huh." a triumvirate utterance that is echoed among the Thuls while Vanko gives another nod to Ula - despite her not looking. Vix and Bayii sharing a look and watching Uypiia lean in to murmur to Ulani, "Dear no need play coy or innocent. We're all adults here." a hand rested on her back.

"PULL!"

A solid shot from Bors that detonates the first of the discs soon after it hits the top of its arch and Mistress Kima of House Thul gives an appreciative nod. "PULL!"

A second shot that has identical results, earning a small clap from Vanko. Then all of the Thuls give a communal 'awwwwwww', when the third call goes out and Bors's shot is wide of the mark.

"I think we're at a pattern, yes?"

Ban Iskender quips back to Aryn with a dip of his head and shoulders, "A gentleman must keep pace, Highness, and you have set quite the standard." In the third volley, he destroys the first and third targets, missing the second. As the others on the firing line grow more.. ahem. Amateurish, he spares a glance to make *very* sure Avlin isn't being allowed too close. "It is only a matter of time ere one shot flies backward," he observes under his breath

"I believe I will dedicate my performance to... consummation. Quite," Nora says, clearly amused with herself. She turns that Coruschal dagger back and forth in her hand and inspects it as one would inspect a piece of equipment they've never used in their life. "I believe I have it. So yes! To consummation! Do watch closely, ladies and gentlemen, and witness the aim of a TRUE markswoman," Nora yells. She's yelling, you see, because she's wearing her head protection. Safety first!

And waits.

And waits a bit more.

"Ah, yes, mmmm... what was it? Pull? PULL! PULL PULL PULL!" Nora says enthusiastically. The ones pulling give each other a glance and then a shrug of resignation. Pew pew pew. Three clay pigeons flunnnng towards the horizon with reckless abandon. Nora levels her weapon, closes one eye, sticks her tongue out cutely and squeezes the trigger!

Oh, wait, safety's on.

"Drat, how do I... ah!" --click--

She re-assumes the position and... -BLAM- -BLAM- -BLAM-. Three loud reports that are almost as loud as she is ring out. Two bullets fire harmlessly towards some small village and the third impacts an -actual- pigeon that explodes in a plume of feathers. Life's just not fair.

Nora Frayus turns around, laughs, and does a little curtsy. One of the women doing the 'pulling' quickly runs over and flips her safety back on.

"HAHAHAHA, YES, THANK YOU DARLING! THIS HAS QUITE THE KICK, DOES IT NOT?"

Merek looks to the targets, then he checks the weapon while he nods a bit. With a lift of his weapon and nod to his attendant he begins to fire the pistol, only to miss the pigeon. "Pull, Pull, Pull!" The man hacks a cough into a hand, while he wipes that on the small piece of material he keeps with him. He does mask the blood which shows up on it, taking from the hip what looks like a bottle, lifting it up to drink. He looks to all of the people there, noting Aryn and a few people which he knows, a lot which he doesn't. He looks a bit tired, and back to the pigeon.

Living amongst the Thuls have taught her a great many things indeed. But there are a lot of remnants of Ulani that remain and propriety in a public setting is definitely one of them. She's not quite gotten to that point of extreme confidennce and assertion the notoriously conspiratorial family carries and it very much shows.

There is no playing here. Nope. Ulani is just a bit more than a little mortified. She looks to Uypiia, the scratchiness of choking on a tart still remaining and likely shall for a while. "Neither innocence nor coy, my Lady. Simply caught very much off-guard. I am not yet accustomed to being so... forthright."

And there Nora goes; leaving destruction in her wake and taking it to the line with fervor. In opposite fashion to the jovial ribbing of his immediate family, Ulani waits until Bors looks her way again and blows him a kiss and mouths 'You're doing great!' No sense in yelling it.

Dyna would partially lift one of her ear coverings to hear Aryn's response and gives a light nod in turn. "Just the way the galaxy is I suppose." There's a light chuckle from her as Aryn takes a verbal jab at Zudro. A glance is given toward Nora as she approaches the firing line and she quirks a brow as she notices her attire, both seeming a somewhat familiar style but also perhaps a bit out of place. As another round of firing begins, Dyna pops that ear covering back into place. She could still hear Nora's proclamation though as she fires, her shots going quite wild. "Too much to drink, perhaps..." She notes quietly. Another glance is given toward Zhu when she notices the man firing blanks at two of the clay pigeons he was supposed to shoot at, prompting her to check over her own remaining ammo. Her carbine at least had a decent clip.

"PULL! PULL! PULL!" Dyna eventually calls out after checking her blaster. Her own shots, unfortunately, all miss this round. Dyna furrows her brow at the display. "Well, that's unfortunate..."

Ariel is watching things and speaking with her grandmother who had joined, but Herol reads something before he leans to whisper into her ear. There's a furrow of her brows but she motions for him to lead on and then withdraws from the conversation she was in, "Apologies, but I should head back to Chandrila." she tells the older woman.

Aryn laughs when Ban says she set a high standard, then poorly performs the next trio of shots. Her cheeks burn a little red and she holsters her pistol, giggling again. Turning her gaze down the line, Aryn observes a number of people demonstrating inebriation of sorts, and with the Duchess present, it might be best to stop bad things from happening on the front end.

"Ser Lars!.. I think it time we draw to a close, my Lord. Some of our participants are well into their cups!" Aryn calls out, and Lars laughs and gives a thumbs up. "CEASE FIRE.. CEASE FIRE.. CEASE FIRE. Place your firearms on safe, and return them to your holsters, cases, or staff members. Let us call upon more sober shooters and allow these a reprieve. Hahaha. You may disembark the firing line!"

Kiko regards Yan with a crooked grin. "Like my shotgun, do you? Ohh?" His mention of another gun has her brow perking. She liked guns if that much was not obvious!

Ah excited 'Ooo!' and Bors waves to catch the blown kiss and throw a wink Ulani's way, looking to Ban's form and then the whirlwind of Nora going up to bat, in a matter of speaking.

But it's Lars who gains Lord Thul's sad face. Thumbing his safety toggle and making a 'but I was making pew pew' face before the EE-3 is handed to Kuhlai so that the valet can place it within its case.

"Well. I enjoyed shooting things that A) I didn't feel horrifically guilty shooting. B) Didn't shoot back. C) Most importantly didn't shoot back and hit me in leg." nodding sagely. His poor, injury deformed, scarred, battered right leg.

Damned thing should be bionic by now.

"I swear it should be bionic by now."

Hey, I just narrated that,

"Anyone else getting a sort of feeling of deja vu?" the trio now headed towards where the Thul's are.

Yeah I'll deja your vu...

"I swear someone is talking about me. It's very odd."

Oh, look! The ceasefire is called and here comes Bors! Ulani gives the Lady Thul an appreciative smile and a pat on the arm before she is to her feet. Taking the ear protection off and setting it to her now empty chair, she is quick to meet with the trio halfway and give Bors a congratulator hug. "You dill fantastic," she says; softening whatever playful blows are awaiting him with the rest of the family.

She passes a glance to Kiko and Kuhlai. Then a wary one to the enthusiastic Jeeves. "I can't believe you brought him, too," she does laugh to the b'monocled man.

The two attendants with Nora Frayus hear Princess Cortess' orders and do the smart thing. They not only silence Nora's pistol, but slide the magazine from the housing and eject the chambered bullet. The young woman tucks it back into the magazine and wags it towards Nora's face. "You'll get this back in the morning, My Lady. That was some shooting, though. I think you actually hit a bird," she says.

"HAHA! Isn't that -splendid!-!" Nora yells. The young man reaches out to take off her earmuffs and let them rest around her neck, pinching her hair a bit more towards her throat. He makes the universal 'volume down' gesture and Nora's lips purse as she utters out a tony 'oh'.

"Was I loud?" she asks.

"A bit, My Lady," he responds.

She points that slugthrower's barrel towards the ground and nods to both.

The two shuffle off and Nora laughs, placing both hands on her hips, unloaded gun still in her right hand. "Haha, mmmm... by the goddess, I am a bit drunk," she says. And then she wanders off, mercifully away from Ulani. Lots of bullets dodged today, unless you were that one pigeon.

"Why yes! You bear a BlasTech DP-23 if I'm not mistaken!" was the soggy syrupy overly-affected noble draaaaaaaaawl coming from the linguistic talents of Everybody's (Least) Favourite Fauxrellian. Quite possible he /was/ mistaken. "I own a model of my own though I feel it pales to my pride and joy," Yan displayed the empty Bryar to Lady Kiko Alde, rapidly coming up with a counter-swindle now that he'd sadly missed seeing his original mark, "here, which as you can see," he pointed at a position behind the barrel, "has a special integrated charge circuit that refills the chamber fast enough to output fully charged shots at the pace of normal. I don't even fire it in standard mode anymore."

Not that anyone could call Zhu Yan a nerd, he was definitely not smart enough, but when it came to guns he knew enough to injure everyone in the vicinity.

"I am something of a collector," user, "and if you wish to talk shop I would be happy to oblige." YAN! GET AWAY FROM THE FIRING LINE!

With cease fire called, Dyna flicks her carbine's safety back on and holsters it. "Well, I'll be sure to work on my aim a bit before I fire this thing at anything that isn't stationary, that's for sure." She reaches up to pull off her protective earwear, then returns it to the table where she got it. "Well, that was entertaining regardless. All that matters in the end." That and no one got hurt. Scanning the nearby tents, Dyna tracks down one serving wine to get herself a glass for an after-shooting drink.

Merek looks to the clay pigeons while he seems to consider, then he places the pistol of his to the hip. He's been quiet and not really engaged although he seems to be a bit distant in thought. All the same he takes the time to reach for the pouches at his hips, then he draws two knives which he twirls about before crossing his arms with them. He nods a bit to the person being his attendant. "Pull! Pull! Pull!" The man takes a step forward and swings both hands, one striking with a knife, the next striking with a knife, then he takes the time to shift upon the hip before he swings along into a circle pattern and draws another to throw it into the pigeons. Then he steps back while he pulls the cape about his shoulder, taking another drink of his wine. He fingerguns people. "Merek Black, it's a pleasure to meet you and all."