Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos
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Articles by Darth Virelia
Night had long since fallen across the Valley of the Dark Lords, but there was no moonlight here—only the pallid glow of ancient flames, held in braziers untouched by wind or time. The tombs loomed like petrified titans around her, crumbling mausoleums of power and arrogance, each one built to...
The clone vats pulsed with life.
Rows of bioluminescent tanks stretched into the abyss of the chamber's deep sublevels, their contents no longer dormant. Limbs twitched within the birthing fluid. Eyes fluttered beneath closed lids. The cloned forms had shape now—muscle striations visible...
"Finally, the hard work pays off."
Beneath the burning canopy of Rakata Prime, far below the cyclopean ruins and feral thickets of Force-twisted flora, the jungle's shrieking pulse could not reach her. Down here, in her sanctum of sharp edges and mathematical silence, Serina Calis walked...
The room—her room—was silent but not still.
No hum of servants. No footsteps in adjacent corridors. No echo of distant voices. PAD-1's subterranean vaults were shielded to such an obscene degree that even sound felt unwelcome. It was not a palace. It was a tomb made regal. And within its...
The vault doors groaned open like the throat of some long-dead god, the ancient durasteel petals pulling back to reveal a chamber choked with dust and silence. Lights flickered weakly as old systems stirred—some still obedient after centuries of disuse, others grinding forward as if roused from...
In relation to: https://www.starwarsrp.net/threads/the-rubicon-sith-order.185417/
The elevator rasped open with a reluctant shudder, exhaling stale, ion-tinged air into the forgotten antechamber. Serina Calis stepped into the gloom without hesitation, her heels striking the cracked duracrete...
The spire walls trembled with the force of her scream.
It wasn't loud—not really. The kind of scream that tore itself out of a throat unused to it, raw and broken and too human for a place built of silence and pressure seals. It echoed in the cavernous chamber of her private study, bouncing off...
The door hissed open again. Another shift rotation ending, maybe. A few boots scuffed the floor—heavy, low-tread military pattern. Another off-duty patrol or a crew returning from deep-system perimeter checks. This was a mercenary bar. Everyone here had a reason not to speak. It was part of the...
She dreamed of Quinn Varanin again.
Not the battlefield. Not the throne rooms. Not the Sith or Jedi. Just the garden. That impossible, aching little corner of Jutrand where nothing sharp existed—where war was a rumor and ambition hadn't yet turned Serina Calis into something venomous.
The...
Beneath the crust of one of Polis Massa's many asteroids, in a laboratory carved from the ruins of silence and pressure, Serina Calis sat before her altar of rebirth. There was no natural light here—only the violet sheen of reactor cores thrumming with harvested decay, and the soft pulsing of...
They weren't supposed to light fires.
Polis Massan domes were strictly regulated—oxygen carefully measured, heat vented through structured dissipation layers, all nonessential combustion strictly forbidden. But in the ruins of Dome B9, where the ceiling had cracked six years ago and never been...
The shift bell rang without fanfare. Just a triple pulse of tone through the intercom—low, steady, functional. Beneath Dome C7, deep inside Asteroid 13-VF, the miners of the VesperWorks outpost stirred to life.
Doros Vel, Sector Lead, opened his eyes at precisely 0300 local. He didn't need the...
The silence of the office was a different kind of loud.
Not the stillness of peace, but the quiet that comes after—after the shouting stops, after the ships fall from the sky, after the screams echo and fade. It wasn't the hush of serenity, but the echo of everything just outside the frame—the...
"Turn your enemies against you. This, is my greatest advice."
Furia did not speak at first.
Her head hung low, hair wild across her face like ink spilled in anguish. The blood on her lip had dried into a scab she refused to lick away, pride still clinging to her like tattered armor. But it...
"She was powerful and persistent and self-obsessed, all features that would continue to grate on Madelyn, but she was powerless to deal with Calis. Even her words tonight could prove dangerous, given what she understood about the girl's unpredictable nature." - Money, Madelyn Lowe
The chamber...
The Tyranny of Family.
The high towers of Jutrand shimmered like gilded blades against the evening sky, their windows catching the sun's descent and casting amber light through the polished transparisteel of the Grand Archives. The city hummed quietly, an eternal monument to Sith power and cold...
https://www.starwarsrp.net/threads/cv-1-gas-grenade-the-choking-veil.191116/
(Continuing from https://www.starwarsrp.net/ams/mundane-realities.5742/ )
The silence that followed after the meeting was not comforting, nor was it oppressive—it simply existed, filling the space like a presence all its own, stretching across the smooth, polished obsidian walls, pressing...
The soft glow of amber sconces flickered against the polished obsidian walls, casting fractured light along the corridors of Serina Calis' underground fortress. The dark stone, quarried from the very bowels of Rakata Prime, reflected her image in jagged distortions as she walked through the...
Serina Calis stood alone in the heart of her obsidian sanctum, her pale fingers resting lightly on the edge of the great war table before her. The blackness of the chamber consumed all light, save for the faint violet glow of the data terminals embedded within the polished stone, casting...