Nar Shaddaa

Deep breath. Stay calm. Find your center.

Be polite. Be professional. Mark lines of egress.

It's an odd thing to be so worked up over. Just painting. She's done plenty of... just not of a dark lord of the Sith.

Should she have brought backup? She made a point of letting people know where she was going, in case she goes missing.

She carries her full paining kit in two bags in either hand. On her back, hidden behind a half cloak, is her lightsaber, no longer small enough to fit comfortably on her belt. Concealed enough that random passersby won't spare a second glance, but she's not putting a concerted effort into hiding it.

A lift ride later, and Arali is at the door.

Here goes nothing.

She buzzes the door.

((Note: Specifically, right before heading out, Arali messaged Master Thun and Zane with her location. Whether they've checked their messages yet is another story, but if Arali's twi'leknapped, they have the first lead.))

A young woman in an elegant black gown greets the Jedi and says, "Welcome, father said he would run a little late. Can I offer you something to drink?"

She steps aside revealing the luxurious apartment and a droid going about menial duties.

Though she isn't sure what she was expecting, it certainly wasn't this from the daughter of Darth Xevious. Softspoken, immediately polite, a clear sense of style more well-developed than her father's immediate grab for ostentation, and a beauty that clearly didn't come from her father's side. It all comes together to striking effect, in the most lekku-curling of ways, and she gives the woman the quick fully-body scan. She has every grounds of professionalism, as an artist taking the measure of her subject but she promptly does her best to reign her emotions back in. They will betray her here. If Darth Xevious sensed such a reaction to his daughter, who knows what he would do, and there is a strong possibility her daughter is force sensitive as well.

"That would be lovely, thank you," she accepts. "My name is Arali Zian. I am afraid your father did not mention your name, Ms..."

"Serani," she smiles and guides the twi'lek inside.

"I was a bit surprised when father told me about this, but he does dote on me so. I feel like he has not yet realized I am Sith now, it's like I never even went to the Academy. Though I guess, being here in Nar Shaddaa, it is so far beyond anything I had experienced. I mean Ziost is beautiful but this place is so... intense."

"I tried to get my brother to join us, but he wasn't interested."

The droid pours refreshing water for Arali and says, "Greetings, please have this water. It is cold and refreshing."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Serani," she enters, marveling at the home. Having lived here so long, and toured a few places of this scale mostly for window shopping, she has a very good idea just how exorbitant the price tag is on this kind of real estate in Nar Shaddaa.

She finds the first appropriate place to set down her bags, then as the droid comes by, she takes the drink, "Thank you, sir," and has a sip, as refreshing as promised.

She tries to be polite to droids. Just because they're machines is no excuse to be rude, and so many develop into so much more. Though sometimes, as in Eight's case, that can be... terrifying.

"I can sympathize. Even after all these years, my master is terribly protective, but it only means he cares. Every time we speak, he frets over this wretched hive of scum and villainy I live in, as if some cabal is lurking in the shadows, out to get me," she chuckles softly. "I've lived here for quite some time, and I love it here. You won't get more interesting company around a sabacc table anywhere else in the galaxy. The weather, though? Well, no place is perfect."

"Well it is interesting. I don't see a slave collar, your master allows you to roam free without one? That is terribly progressive. Father would never do that," she says with a smile.

Arali pauses for a moment, then realizes the miscommunication. "Not... that kind of master," she says, mildly disturbed by how much less casual slavery disgusts her than it once did.

"Though I suppose 'former master' would be more accurate." She pulls back a corner of her cloak, revealing the tip of her lightsaber. "I am Jedi, though not a part of the knighthood program," she explains. A calculated risk, but there is no way Darth Xevious didn't sense her connection to the force, and hiding the fact when she has an oversized lightsaber strapped to her back is just going to come back to bite her when it comes out.

Though the second part replays in her mind. Her father... wouldn't... let her? A grown woman? She doesn't comment on it, as she processes, but it doesn't make sense.

"A Jedi?" she says with a curious look.

"Father did not mention that, but he does tend to gloss over the details. Perhaps it is good my brother is not here, he would be dreadfully rude and try to find a way to draw you into a duel. Boys and their swords, I suppose."

Serani takes a seat in the living room and adds, "Father should be along shortly. He is terribly busy with the peace talks and the Hutts, understandably."

"I try not to let party lines get in the way of manners, though some grow more heated over the distinction than I'd prefer."

She takes her measure of the living room, particularly the lighting. Good, though she'll definitely supplement it with some of her own.

That Serani uses the word 'peace,' though, is interesting. "I can imagine the frustration. While Senator Herresh is an excellent diplomat, he unfortunately answers to a senate whose pace is far slower. And the Hutts... are among the galaxy's most unusual cases. Difficult to work with, without a great deal of practice. One moves at one's own speed when one expects to live a thousand years. Have you ever had a conversation with one? They're usually dismissive of the shorter-lived species, but when they are in a good mood, it is fascinating to converse with a being for whom things we consider distant history is still in living memory."

"How long can a hutt live? I know they are a longer lived species but father does not consider them very highly. He does not think highly of most species really, but then again he is a hard man with a dangerous position. Have you had the chance to have a deep conversation with a hutt?" she replies.

"Exactly how long is unclear, but there are certainly Hutts who have lived over a millennium. I have a strong working relationship with Captain Xeirreau Besadi, of the Starcross, though he is 'only' a hundred and fifty or so. A young adult by Hutt standards, but older Hutts have never given me such personal regard. I have, however, been party to a handful of their conversations with Master Thun, and she is established enough to get their notice."

'Established.' A polite word for 'old.'

"Master Thun sounds like a Jedi, is she powerful?" Serani asks.

The twi'lek gives her host an appraising look. It's a terribly suspicious question, but probably a natural enough one.

"What is power?" she asks, the most honest answer she can give.

"Master Thun has largely given up what influence she has and stepped aside to allow her juniors to guide council politics, and she chooses to live a quiet life here. I mostly make sure that paperwork gets in the way of her peace as little as possible."

"Why would she do that? That seems counter productive if she is so respected I would think she would be the most competent and strongest to lead?" she asks a bit confused.

Darth Xevious enters and says from the entrance hall, "Another exhausting day of aliens and malcontents... is the artist here?"

At Serani's next questions, Arali's face lights up, the woman clearly eager to dive into this conversation...

...but it seems they are out of time. "Perhaps we can continue this discussion another time?"

She turns to face her... is 'client' the right word when you aren't being paid? "I am, sir, and ready to set up wherever pleases you."

"Please do, my time is... precious," he mutters as he gives his attention to his daughter who rises and gives him a hug. He grumbles and says, "Your mother wishes for you to know she has finished remodeling your apartment. She has purachsed new slaves for you, it should be fashionable."

"Though I disagree with you moving to Ziost, alone," Xevious says.

"I'll be fine father, I know you worry about your enemies, but I am Sith," Serani counters.

He glares briefly and then softens, "You grow up far too fast for my tastes, but your mother insists you need to spread your wings. Bloody woman, I can never deny her. That's how I got two incorrigible twins." He looks at Arali and takes a seat saying, "You have children, twi'lek?"

Arali busies herself with her gear as family moment goes on, giving the two a moment's privacy, until addressed. "Not yet sir," she answers, glad it's the truth; that would be a much more difficult question if she did.

Xevious sighs and then says, "Shall I sit... stand... how will this be done? Surely you can take an image and then work from that?"

The last suggestion relieves Arali to no end; painting from a holo loses something in translation, but it is certainly safer than convincing an impatient dark lord to stay still for hours on end.

"That is, generally, the more practical approach. But first, we have to compose the shot and establish lighting." That last part will be especially important. She's not going to violate her artistic integrity to slim the large Sith lord down, but she will absolutely fiddle with lighting to find an angle that brings more dignity to his stature.

"I'm thinking you standing, in a rhetorical pose, some manner of tight, forceful gesture so as not to expand the frame overmuch, your daughter seated at your side, looking up to you, ready to stand at your side. A statement of both influence and legacy."

"That sounds agreeable, do catch my best side... all of it," he says with a deep chuckle. Serani takes a seat as directed as the two get into position.

"I always look magnificent," Xevious finishes.

Arali really has to wonder how much of this man is an act, and how serious he is about that whole 'magnificence' thing, but she'll do her best.

She dims ambient lighting, and adjusts a couple hover globes set to soft light, going for the harsh contrasts popular in current imperial styles, and to portray the dark lord's 'generous' proportions in a more flattering light, while still getting good light on Serani; doing her justice is a much easier proposition.

"Excellent, now hold still for just a moment..." She takes several images from her intended angle, then from several more for reference. "There we go... that's all I need."

“That is it? You have enough to create a masterpiece?” he asks.

My, this man has a great deal of confidence in an 'adequate' artist. "I have what I need, sir," she confirms.

Xevious rises and says, “Good I am taking a nap, it has been a lengthy day. Do not wake me unless it is truly dire.”

The Sith Lord retires.