Private A Glimpse of The Future

[Briana Sal-Soren]

A few weeks after resigning, 1 Month Before Gnosis: On The Naming of Things, 3 months before Will of The Force​

The snow outside was falling in thick clumps, settling over the last of the brittle, dried grass, and collecting in powdery drifts along the decorative arches of the stone fencing.

Seated on the lounge next to the living areas bay window, Briana stared through the frost-etched glass, knuckles pressed to her lips and legs tucked neatly beneath her. Outside, evening had begun to overtake the thinning light, the reds and golds slowly bleeding into bruised indigos and sapphires, until the sun altogether slipped away. Her eyes stayed fixed in the distance of where the sun had just been, but never focused on anything in particular.

It was strange, spending Lifeday like this. As an ordinary citizen.

The separation from the Temple, from her Padawans, and from her family especially, was a difficult necessity, as much as it ached. She reminded herself of that truth whenever the guilt cropped up, on why this pause was needed, and that it was simply that: a pause. Time to reset, to adjust her rebreather, so to speak. That way, when she returned, she’d be able to do so with both clarity and strength.

Somedays, it was easy to remember those reasons. On others, the reasons only highlighted the quiet, and in the quiet, those thoughts grew teeth.

Unfolding her legs with a resigned sigh, Briana lifted from her spot by the window and rubbed the cold from her arms. She’d meant to have sorted the ornaments and decorations before Viz returned back from the Temple, but she’d spent so much of her time being her own worst enemy, she’d nearly forgotten. A glad distraction from her own thoughts.

The access panel to the storage levels was tucked discreetly along the back of the main stairwell, easy to miss unless you knew where to look. Briana pressed her palm against it, feeling the faint vibration as it slid open, and descended the short flight of stairs into the cooler air below.

_________________________________________​

By the time the door creaked open to announce Vizion’s arrival, she’d managed to lug up three full crates of decorations and other bits of stored memories that somehow hadn't gone up in the flames of their family home. “In here!” she called over her shoulder, pausing mid-motion, knelt over one of the open crates as she went to set down a delicate bulb, the different ornaments carefully arranged in a kind of disordered-order that she’d managed to create.

When Viz appeared in the doorway moments later, Briana quickly noted the tired look in his eyes and the slump to his shoulders. She bit gently at the inside of her cheek and reached for another ornament to unwrap, tossing the delicate tissue paper into the pile with the rest. “Long day?” She invited, deliberately avoiding asking anything particular, directly. Not because she didn’t want to know, but she’d made it a point to not involve herself with Temple matters since stepping away. Still, it was difficult not to wonder.

How was Ala holding up in her new role?
Had he seen Bastila lately?
How big was Zeriana getting?
Was Brandyn adjusting to fatherhood and being on the Council?
What was the news on the Black Wall and the Empire? Was the Republic taking steps to slow their expansion?

Instead, she held up a softly gleaming bulb and offered up a smile.

She’d gone out into the Galaxy as a wide-eyed renegade with her brother, convinced she’d had all the answers, that she could fix everything that was broken if she just fought hard enough. The Galaxy had ground her down and spit her, and her family, back out. She’d needed time, peace… and here, in this moment with Viz, that’s what she had. She wanted more of that in her future, in all of their futures, really. The rest? That could wait. “I think there’s a chance to make it a little better,” Her smile broadened ever so slightly and her brows raised. “Want to do the honors of hanging the first one?”

TAG: Vizion Trozky , Blaire Sal-Soren , Lossa Aureus , Brandyn Sal-Soren , Cybelle Sal-Soren , Bastila Sal-Soren

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[Vizion Trozky]

Vizion walked through the building allotment of snow, the waning light of day giving way to the colours that often made him pause, until an icy breeze would cut across his neck, scrape his cheeks, and provoke his shoulders into meeting his ears. His neck compressed, head scrunching down into the wrap of his scarf and the moment punctuated with a curse, before he turned to continue the trek from the Temple to what had become another home, where he could thaw with help from the fire.

He looked forward to seeping the chill out of his bones in that way, how it slowly drew him out and unwound him from the long hours; he relished it so, that drawing on the Force to warm himself felt meaningless when the alternative was heartfelt time with her. Foolish, perhaps. A corner of his mouth curled with the bright flare in the mire of his thoughts, that deep well filled with the day, the recent, the stretch of preceding months.

Want had become need, and Briana, the balm to his troubles. The questions that still brought no answers. The silence of information outside of the clenched fist of Empire, and the Dark necessitating the least wanted purpose of the net his family had built for him, should the need present itself.

In the event he would be cut off from their direct support and love, as he had been now, for half a year. His thoughts often returned to one of the last conversations he’d had with his mother, his eyes to the future despite the lack of solidity in his relationship, some months before the silence.

The glimmer of hope that had begun to feed his frustration, in time. Foresight he was now thankful to have had, as signs gave way to clarity, at the pace of another’s timing. A gamble that slowly lost its risk.

Viz felt that sure and comfortable weight upon him, contesting with his weariness, every time he ascended the steps of Emerald Heights, these days, and let himself in, this day tapping the toes of his boots against the lip of the doorway to dislodge much of the snow packed into their grooves, and loosening them from around his ankles before setting foot inside and pulling the door shut behind him.

“In here!”

Short work was made of dropping his satchel in the entryway, pulling off his boots, unwinding his scarf, and shrugging out of his coat with a worn sigh of relief that let his shoulders drop. Once the outerwear was stowed, he shouldered the bag again and padded into the common area, only to drop the bag alongside his usual seat as his eyes landed on her on her knees, alongside a bin, and surrounded by a mess of ornaments he wasn’t sure were ordered in any way he could see.

It was amusing to see, and that alone banished some of the rather errant thoughts this sight also gave him, for now. He sounded one note that wasn't quite a laugh, when asked about his day. "When is it not?" Hardly a question, she knew what the work of a High Councilor was, and he wasn't going to be elaborating. If she truly wanted to know, she would have to break the promise to focus on herself. He padded closer, minding the forest of ornaments.

“I think there’s a chance to make it a little better,” Her smile broadened ever so slightly and her brows raised. “Want to do the honors of hanging the first one?”

He went still in his steps, and glanced at the ornament, then Briana's face. Tradition didn't grant him this honour that'd always gone to the youngest... but here and now, that was him. He relented, smiling small, brows knitting softly, and carefully received the bulb in one hand. He turned it over, idly examining it while he quelled the surge of familial longing that circumstance left him with. Then Viz turned to bend down to her, fingers grazing her cheek before cupping her chin in a gentle grasp.

"Thank you."

Lips pressed against her brow, before he released her to hang the gleaming bulb. Once it was placed, he turned back and swept a look over the array of ornaments.

"This needs more hands." A statement born of that same absence. He shook his head at himself, rattling the thought away, and slipped his gold-flecked gaze to Briana again. "You know what I mean." He gestured for more. "Hand me another one."

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Shortly after Will of the Force

The decision had been made to open Emerald Heights to her family for this gathering, on their way back from Ayvara. Arrangements were made quickly, with no care given to the fact that the decorations were still up, this far past Life Day. A late festive celebration with them was better than not. Besides, he'd posited, there were cultures that had holiday celebrations weeks to more than a month into the new year.

The first knock came as Briana released the collar of his shirt after a moment's straightening. He grabbed one of her hands before it could get far, and held it to his chest. He'd been loathe to leave her alone, moreso than usual, since the both of them had returned from that undeveloped, wild world... but he'd try not to drive her mad when he was sure her family might do the job. If it was anything like his own family's celebrations had been were. He refused to believe the worst without evidence.

"I'll get it."

He kissed those knuckles, then let go to make his way down the hallway to the door, hearing the gait of SID-10S "Sid" walking into the common area, doubtless also drawn to the sound of the knock, as he went. Then Vizion grasped the handle, and stepped back as he opened the door with a ready smile, set to greet whoever might be on the other side, and welcome them in. He was prepared for questioning looks.

Or whatever else he might catch after keeping this relationship so carefully under wraps for so. damn. long... even though the long wait was her wish.

Bastila Sal-Soren • Blaire Sal-Soren • Brandyn Sal-Soren
Briana Sal-Soren • Cybelle Sal-Soren • Lossa Aureus​

 

[SID-10S "Sid"]

Briana Sal-Soren | Vizion Trozky

The droid was quiet, watching the two of them work as he brought in another box of ornaments. Not entirely settled yet on his master and this one that seemed to have a precognitive function. It made his calculations and pattern observations irrelevant at times when dealing with his master. Or perhaps that was the strange phenomenon of organic intuition that he had such a frustrating time understanding.

Bursts of intelligence in his mildest and complementary opinion.

Or it was a matter of pheromone recognition that had not been monopolized upon yet. Which begged the question of the pink meatbag that shared a diluted number of genetic markers with his master failing to recognize similar unspoken signals if that were the case.

A chance for study perhaps?

Time would tell as Sid ambled out once more for the final box while his processing unit mulled over the potentials of this unknown.

Fully ignoring the personal space disturbance issue that his master and the meatbag engaged in. A now familiar thing he had believed she had removed herself from engaging in.

The warning signal of heightened potential for coercion or physical threats in the back of his processor was ignored given the continued presence of the meatbag that could at least put the toilet seat down. A small plus in this one's favor he supposed in some ways.

At least this one did not threaten to turn him into a toaster.

------------------------------------------------

Sid stared at the two as they engaged in another moment of brazen impropriety.

"Master, why do you torment me so?" Static filling the air as the droid let his woes be known.

"You remove my, rather impressive, capabilities of providing protection detail. Which-" He began moving towards the living room doorway. "Caused my untimely shutdown. Following this-"

The droid positioned himself now in mock imitation of the two after Vizion had passed by. Blocking the doorway by positioning himself in a way that he had seen his master do. When the other had caught up to her and somehow convinced her to act as a living barricade for egress or entry to the next area.

The memory had him turning his photoreceptors to look her directly in the eye.

"You place yourself in statistically optimal positions for anti-boarding actions-" He let his manipulators and stabilizers drag along the doorframe as he righted himself rather than his default, finely tuned and carefully maintained grace. "Along the ingress points necessary for a task you have assigned prior. Reducing your situational awareness by forty-two point six percent, on average."

His arms crossed with a purposed clack as he looked between the two of them. Like he hadn't done this exact motion a million times prior. The errant calculation was processed as quickly as it came into existence, his photoreceptor covers clacking together briefly as his internal systems corrected his perfunctory assessment with a refined, if averaged, number.

4.5 Mutual Voluntary Contact Events per 26 hour day averaging 324 of these events a month. 647 times he had recorded in total.

Not that he was counting. "This is statistically unwise during active operations, but morale metrics indicate you find it beneficial." The droid emitted another static filled sigh as he turned away from them to pass through the unobstructed doorway to finish his set of tasks.

Realizing the rest of the mea-organics with similar genetic markers were arriving. His master did not enjoy it when he used his preferred term of endearment for non-significant organics.

Sighing once more as he moved to the dining table and straightened the settings by his own metric of tidy order.

 

[Bastila Sal-Soren]

Lingered at the threshold was apparently considered rude for most, yet Bastila framed by the open doorway couldn’t help but not rush in. Instead she embraced the slow drift of warm air spilling out from the interior of Emerald Heights. The natural air was cool and clean, Naboo’s city-lights glimmering faintly below the rise, contrasting from the glow emitting from the interior of the horse; those soft amber lamps that caught polished stone floors with artful reflections, the addition of garlands and crystalline Life Day ornaments strung along the archways casting their colours across the surrounds.
Her eyes lifted, tracking the line of lights as they curved along the ceiling. She raised an eyebrow, slightly judgemental for the moment.

“…You know,” she said quietly and very much to herself, “there are regions on Naboo where these staying up would be considered the worst sort of crime.”

Her gaze sliding to the untouched corners, evidence of the careful order they had been placed in.

“And others where leaving them up means someone has an issue with letting the moment end.”

The door in front of her opened, as it had so many times for her in the past and she stepped inside or she went to. The person in the door was not SID, nor was it her Sister. She almost felt her breath catch, almost had the oxygen carry out from her as she took in the dark hair, the chiselled jaw, those eyes…

“Dom…” She caught herself, her instincts taking a second as she looked at the man in front of her. It wasn’t as she thought, it was close but not entirely. It wasn’t Dominic, it was his brother however; Vizion. “What are you doing here?”

She didn’t really allow an answer, instead just walking passed him with a shake of her hair that sent the smell of peaches flying through the air behind her.

The door closed behind her with a gentle seal, muting the outside world. Inside the air was warm, carrying the faint scents of spice and polish and something recently cooked or at least cooking. Footsteps echoed softly in the distance. A droid’s movement hummed near the common area, precise and familiar.

Her boots moved soundlessly across the stone as she took it all in, the familiar layout of the house she had not been to enough lately. She took in the layered rugs, she took in the way the seating had been subtly shifted to accommodate more than one person, and the small signs of habitation that spoke of shared routines rather than temporary occupation.

“Oh by the force…” she said evenly, gaze passing over the room without settling before falling directly onto Vizion. “Are you sleeping with my sister!”

Her attention shifted as a voice carried from the next room; it was Briana’s, warm and unmistakable, threading through the house like a familiar melody. Bastila slowed, her expression changing in a way that was almost imperceptible. Not softened. Reoriented.

Family.

She drew in a measured breath, shoulders squaring as she gave Vizion a stare of both suspicion and shock.

“…All right,” Bastila murmured, fingers brushing briefly against the strap of her coat before removing it. “I thought she hated you?.”

She narrowed her eyes before turning and moving deeper into the house, following the sound of voices until the common room opened before her. The high ceilings, the arched windows looking out over the Heights, the last of the Life Day garlands draped along the balustrade like an afterthought no one had quite had the heart to remove. It all filled her with familiarity and warmth, it made her feel at peace.

Briana was there.

The tension Bastila hadn’t acknowledged loosened immediately. Not dramatically; just enough that her shoulders dropped a fraction, her breath eased. A smile touched her face before she could stop it.

“Him?” she said, stepping fully into the room. “Way to make things awkward Bri.”

Her eyes flicked instinctively past Briana, a quick, practiced scan of the space. There was no secondary towering presence. No familiar posture already braced for an argument or to get between them.

“Brandyn isn’t here yet?” she added, lips curving. “Does he know? He doesn’t know, does he?” She gave a sly smile pointed directly at Viz as if he wasn’t there, “Which means I know before he gets his chance to make that face.”

She tilted her head, mimicking an expression with uncanny accuracy; brows drawn, jaw set, the silent I have concerns written all over it.

“...the one that says he’s already decided something and is waiting for the rest of us to catch up. Although not that he can do that…" She paused, a quick face that said, I should not have said that came over her. "You do know about his face yeah?”

The moment thankfully lightened, Bastila’s gaze drifting then to the nearby droid as she searched for her other absent sister. SID stood just off to the side, optics bright, posture impeccable, as if he’d been waiting specifically for her.

“Oh, no,” she said at once, pointing at him. “Don’t look at me like that.”

She stepped closer, peering at Sid’s faceplate as if inspecting it for flaws.

“I recognize that posture. You’ve already logged my arrival, my tone, and at least two micro-expressions, haven’t you?” She looked deep into his sensors. “Delete the one where I smiled.”

She tapped lightly against his chassis with a knuckle, playful but familiar.

“If this ends up in a report, I will deny everything and reprogram you to compliment my footwork instead.” Then she opened her mouth in shock. “Have they told you to keep this little secret?”

OUTFIT: XoXo | TAG: Briana Sal-Soren Vizion Trozky SID-10S "Sid" Brandyn Sal-Soren Blaire Sal-Soren Cybelle Sal-Soren Lossa Aureus EQUIPMENT:

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[Lossa Aureus]

Casual Attire​

"I am unable to adjust how I view organics." Sid's cranium tilted, as if puzzled by something. "Though I have removed the appropriate micro-expression from my systems, your presence has still been logged as part of security protocols just as every organics will be. Be assured, any potentially incriminating secrets are secure."

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Lossa could already hear someone inside that wasn't Briana.

And the way the voice carried, she was sure it was the one that matched the reports from Jakku. Bastila. Shaking her head as one particular phrase was caught. Her hand pausing on the doorknob as she opened the door for herself.

“Oh by the force…” she said evenly, gaze passing over the room without settling before falling directly onto Vizion. “Are you sleeping with my sister!”

The jovial air around her dropped to a chilly edge. Her daughter's smile shifting to discomfort as conscious effort had to be made from feeling so deeply. Her eyes blinking rapidly to push down the sudden upset and manage a deep breath as she crossed the threshold. A smile that didn't reach her eyes when Sid stepped forward. His manipulators extended automatically as he looked over the child with what could be called excitement. Zeriana however was taken aback for a brief moment until metal touched her fingertip.

"May I take charge of her care?" Sid asked surprisingly politely. Lossa was all too eager to hand her off, and Zeriana didn't fuss about it as Sid held the small girl close and all but literally scanned her over. "I must have Master recalibrate my chronometer, you have advanced beyond the expected metrics for the measure of time that has passed."

Sid was occupied for the moment as Lossa hunted down the voice to find who it was addressing.

Eyes wide and a slight frown on her face as she found Vizion seeming all too comfortable in Briana's home. Brow cutting sharp lines as her frown deepened with a look to Bastila before glancing back to Vizion. The air around her felt like a mounting storm as little strands of dark hair began to rise around her shoulders.

"Bastila, would you mind repeating what you just said?" Lossa asked with painful care, forcing a smile in place of the frown.

Briana Sal-Soren Vizion Trozky Bastila Sal-Soren Brandyn Sal-Soren Blaire Sal-Soren Cybelle Sal-Soren
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[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

He wasn't exactly known for bringing the party with him. Not anymore. But they didn't know. They couldn't know.

He had kept to himself, quietly nesting with Cybelle at the SpriteGate Shore for months now. Briana had only visited a few times, Bastila not at all, Blaire and he had spent some quiet moments together talking about their father. But mostly, Brandyn had just lived the domestic life, and done his duty as Council member when called. So, it was not odd that he had just been "doing his thing".

The full repercussions of his injury on the Death Star were not divulged, neither was the premature arrival of his daughter...Cybelle's...breakdown...and their little girl's...

He almost died inside. Again.

Duty alone caused him to cling to routine and the facade of normalcy. He could not become the manner that he became after his parents' death. He could not abandon his wife to rampage against those that had wounded him. Not for want of desire...he just had no where to point the grief.

He simply did not know where his daughter was. Didn't even know the first place to look.

The door to Emerald Heights creaked softly under his careful hand. He slipped inside, feeling the warmth and chatter of relatives brush past him like distant echoes. Brandyn's eyes flicked over clusters of faces, nods and greetings he had no intention of returning, smiles he could not meet. He moved along the periphery, careful and silent, a shadow threading through the social milieu.

Every step was measured. He hugged the walls, skirting conversations, avoiding hands and curious glances. The laughter and clatter of glasses filled the room, yet it failed to touch him. He was untethered, existing in a space between the party and his own grief.

The drinks table came into view. Relief was a small thing, but real. A point of focus, a ritual to grasp onto. He eased closer, careful not to jostle anyone, letting the cool of a glass settle in his hand. He breathed out slowly, letting the motion center him.

No one knew. None of them could. He would survive the night as Brandyn, as husband, as brother, cousin and friend. He would take the drinks, nod politely if spoken to, and keep to the edges. Tonight, that was enough.

A shadow among the laughter, a quiet motion toward the small anchor of routine. The rest — his daughter, the search, the grief — would wait.

| TAG: Briana Sal-Soren Lossa Aureus Blaire Sal-Soren Bastila Sal-Soren Vizion Trozky Cybelle Sal-Soren | EQUIPMENT: Angst

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[Blaire Sal-Soren]

"You're not seriously asking me to go to a party? At your sister's? With the rest of your family?" Jaa asked.

He was sat on the artisanal ronto leather couch that was the centerpiece of the common room watching a smashball match on the holo. He wore a flimsy black tank top that hung far too loose on him, she would make him get rid of it, and a pair of cloth short pants that did not quite hang loose enough.

Jaa made some derisive gesture toward the holo, the announcers shouting in Epican as something exciting happened. Her Epican was passable yet she still only understood every third word from the broadcast they were speaking so fast and with so much excitement.

"It'll be fun." She offered

"Fun for who?" He asked. "Fun for me?" She was starting to regret ever mentioning the idea.

"Why not?"

"Oh yeah, you're right. How could I not have fun hanging out with your brother who has never done anything apart from looking at me like I'm scum or speaking to me like the help."

You were the help. She thought but did not say as he continued.

"I'm sure we would share a laugh while we listen to you and Briana argue and snipe at each other at every opportunity."

"I think Los' is coming," she said as though it would shift his perspective.

"Wonderful, I can spend my night wondering how long it will take for her to crush my throat in revenge for her child being kidnapped."

"I wouldn't imagine she'd wait very long," Blaire said flippantly. Her tone softened "they took our child too, remember?" They of course being the group of terrorists founded by Blaire's father that both she and Jaa had been a part of. Though her family was only aware of Jaa's involvement, not her own.

"Oh, does your family suddenly know that your children are mine, then?" He asked, a touch of bitterness swirling around the question.

He was due his bitterness, in this at least. That didn't make it any less annoying, however.

"Why don't you invite Ghost?." Jaa asked.

There was a certain venom in his tone. It was not overt and yet it could not go unnoticed. Were he not Jaa Ardan one could be forgiven for thinking it was jealousy of their handsome Korun host that soured his voice, but Jaa did not get jealous or if he did, he took every measure not to show it to her.

No this was simply prejudice bordering on bigotry. She doubted he was even aware of it himself. They got along well enough, Jaa and Ghost, so much so they could almost be mistaken for friends. Jaa, however, was who he was and Ghost was what he was and there was no changing either.

"He was my first choice you know but he had to decline." She joked.

He made a noise half way between amusement and annoyance, lit a cigarra, closed his eyes, leaned his head back and exhaled a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling.

Blaire strode the length of the room, bare feet silent on the stone until she was directly in front of him. In one well-practiced, sensually-graceful movement she was astride him in his lap, shuddering a small gasp at the sudden coldness from the leather couch under her bare legs. She plucked the cigarra from his mouth and placed it in her own.

He looked up from underneath her. Their eyes met. There was so much in his eyes. So much for her. Agitation, desire, concern, contentment.

Love

Blaire simultaneously battled the desire to flee from him, to reject the enormity of his gaze upon her. Either physically or was her usual tactic attempting to wound him in some way, and the desire to give herself to him, to allow herself to take comfort in his physicality, to temper love with lust and think no deeper than primal carnal passion. She instead held his gaze and met him where he was. What he could see behind the azure fire of her eyes was a mystery even to her.

Blood red nails on her finger tips, she ran her hands through his hair, cigarra clutched between her teeth she exhaled smoke through her nose like a dragon. He shifted beneath her, leaning into her caress.

Jaa was struggling with more than an aversion to spending time with her siblings. He tried not to worry her but she could feel the apprehension in him.

"We left Naboo for a reason." He said finally.

"We did," she agreed, putting his cigarra back between his lips. She knew where this line of questioning was headed but she would let him get there on his own.

"So why would we go back?"

"They're family for one thing. Our family. Yes, our family." She cut him off from interjecting.

"Fine, They're family." He agreed unconvincingly "but does this mean you don't think that Baryn is…"

The hope in his question broke her heart.

"No, he very much is." She said softly.

She took the cigarra from him again and watched as he grappled with what to say next.

"Why bring him back then? To the very people we tried to keep him safe from?" Was the question he finally settled on though she knew he wanted to say more.

"Things have changed."

---

"Just open it," she instructed Jaa frustratedly as they stood at the door of Emerald Heights "I did use to live here, you know"

The five of them practically spilled into the foyer, Blaire, Jaa and three children just over a year old. Two girls and a boy.

"We're here!" Blaire bellowed into the house. "We brought cakes!" She announced a box of ryshcate tucked under an arm.

"And brandy!" Three bottles in fact, Corellian of course.

"And babies!" Of which, the girls Teyonna and Baela were squirming and fighting to be set down by their father so vigorously that Jaa nearly dropped the bottles of brandy. As soon as their feet hit the floor the two girls took off running into the house, assumedly toward the sound of the voices that carried toward the front.

Baryn did not run. He stayed close to Blaire as Jaa helped her from her jacket and took the box of pastries from her. Once she was unburdened Baryn lifted his arms and asked to be lifted again. Blaire would've preferred he walk on his own or taken off heedlessly like his sisters but she stopped and scooped him up all the same.

This will be interesting. She thought as she followed the sound of her girl's giggles.

| Outfit: xxx | Tag: Briana Sal-Soren Vizion Trozky Bastila Sal-Soren Brandyn Sal-Soren Lossa Aureus Cybelle Sal-Soren | Equipment: xxx |​