A Requiem?

[Cameron Centurion]

Exocron

The refitted AlAT/i Nemesis nestled softly onto the reserved landing pad at the Exocron spaceport. Once the vessel's systems had been secured, the blue and gray cloaked figure of Cameron Centurion stepped casually down the loading ramp. Silver-green eyes gazed out from beneath the hood of the flowing cloak, as the Priest of Aatrox made a measured pace for the spaceport's exit.

Outside the spaceport, two masked individuals wearing the colors of Aatrox were there to greet Cameron Centurion. No pleasantries were exchanged as the self-proclaimed Priest had demanded long ago. In a matter of minutes, the speeder came to a halt outside the glistening Temple of Moross.

Ascending the steps, Cameron allowed the soft breeze to fill his cloak, causing it to billow out behind him bond reveal the two tools that adorned his exposed upper body beneath. As was typical, there were several other members of the Crusade going about their daily routines. Those that recognized only the colors he wore uttered hesitant greetings and made awkwardly stiff movements to divert from his path. Those that knew more about him or at least the reputation of his personality acted as if he were not even there. They pretended as if there was a void in a five meter radius around his body, a void that eviscerated anything daring to occupy the same space as it.

The instant he'd stepped of the staircase leading to the corridor containing only the personal chambers of the Aesir Inari, Cameon sensed...something was different. He recognized none of the usual White Cloaks. Not that he'd ever been...particular friends with Inari's guard. The Sith Lord would have been concerned were it not for the presence radiating beyond that always seemed to have a healing effect on his otherwise cold, blackened soul.

Stopping near the entrance to Inari's solar, the Sith Lord made a simple statement. "I need to speak with the Aesir." Pausing for a moment, he added an unusual element of granularity. "Centurion."

[member="Amorella Mae"]

 

[Ereza]

Out on the veranda in the early evening hours, Aesir Inari sat deep within meditation. A cold, dark blue shadowed the skies above, settling in heavy over the last vestiges of the day's warmth on the horizon. High overhead, stars were appearing. Off to the east Exocron's moon began its twilight rise, full and gleaming.

"Bright One? Forgive me..." the soft voice of Inari's handmaiden breached the din of noise that was the city below.

"It's alright, Bree," the Aesir's reply was soft, wispy, her mind still very much enveloped in her meditation despite the small distraction, "what is it?"

"Priest Centurion has requested an audience with you. Shall I let him in?"

The distraction this time was a bit harder to deal with and it took her a moment to conjure a reply, "...yes. Thank you, Bree."

Inari waited to hear the woman's steps fade back into the room before opening her eyes and releasing a short breath. With the flutter of her heart came a heavy ache, one that had plagued her since ... that day. It was not as bad as it had been weeks ago, but it still pained her greatly, caused her breath to shorten, her lungs to clench, her veins to seize. She bore it in the only way she knew how: pushing those lingering flashes of fear from her mind. It was only by remembering why she was still here - because brave people had sacrificed their lives to ensure her continued vigilance and guidance of the Crusade. Because they loved their God, the Reviver, and their faith had been utterly unshaken.

The footsteps returned, ushering a sense of hurry into her. Muffling a sound of pain into her fist, Inari took several slow, deep breaths, and mentally willed the ache away. Sometimes this worked, but her sense of urgency left her with a lingering dull ache.

"Priest Centurion, Bright One," she heard the woman say.

"Thank you Bree, that will be all."

Bree excused herself quietly. Inari reached up and removed her silver mask, glancing up from her meditative position to the dark, tall man who stood where the handmaiden left him and gave a somber smile, "You found me."

[member="Cameron Centurion"]

 

[Cameron Centurion]

Cameron's own emotions swirled in a torrent of passion, longing, and...concern. It had been such ever since he felt...well he hadn't been precisely sure what he'd felt while tending to duties abroad. Now that he had returned and was once again standing in the presence of the Aesir, the Sith Lord's fears were only moderately assuaged.

Once Amorella's handmaiden had departed, Cameron pulled back the hood of his cloak, revealing a new scar running diagonally over roughly two inches of his left cheek. The moment the mask of Inari had been pulled away, Cameron inhaled deeply. The normal deep, rumbling tamber if his voice vibrated in his chest as he slowly spoke the object of his affection's name slowly...as if tasting every syllable. "Amorella..."

Something was...very different. She was every bit the woman he recalled from just over a month prior and completely changed all at the same time. "I had feared I would not. I felt...something that plagued my mind greatly mere weeks ago." Slowly, Cameron took a number of steps forward, looking down at his diminutive companion before dropping to a knee before her, shrugging off the cloak that had been covering his exposed upper body and the arcane tattoos that adorned its surface. Despite the natural chilling nature of his silver-green eyes, Cameron's expression spoke more of concern and compassion. Traits he only seemed capable of in the presence of Amorella and behind closed doors.

Tentatively, a large hand came up to lightly graze the skin of Amorella's left cheek. "What has happened?"

[member="Amorella Mae"]

 

[Ereza]

The woman's breath grew steady now, though the pain in her chest remained, slowly dulling. Blue eyes watched Cameron as he moved to stoop before her, immediately seeming to pick out the new scar on his cheek and the curious alotment of tattoos that decorated his upper body. Before now she'd not given them much thought - so focused was she always on the intensity of his presence, the fire within his gaze, the sound of his voice. Now, within the pale glow of the rising moon, he looked positively predatory.

Amore often forgot that the man was first and foremost, a weapon. Mind and body, he'd done and contrived the most murderous of things in his lifetime, and there was no doubt that he would continue to do so.

She smiled, and the expression grew when his hand made contact with her skin. Though happy for his return, the expression was not without some sadness and even a hint of the pain she was feeling. The young woman closed her eyes as she thought for a moment how to speak to him all the things that had happened in his absence.

How did she tell him that her life had been taken? That the lives of so many others had ended to bring her back? How did she admit that somewhere along the way, she'd been lost?

Amore had given her word that she would do her best not to be lost.

In hindsight, she supposed, perhaps she'd finally made a promise that was beyond her abilities to keep.

You are not a God, she reminded herself, you are just a girl.

When she opened her eyes again they were the color of troubled waters. Her smile faded.

"I was reminded of my own mortality," she said, reaching up to clasp a delicate hand around the one that touched at her face, "I was lost. Forgive me."

[member="Cameron Centurion"]

 

[Cameron Centurion]

Somehow...Amorella's words did not shock him. It wasn't the fact that he'd always expected her to lose herself. Instead, he knew that if there were ever a person to take failure deeply and personally, it was Amorella. She was not a flawed individual in this regard, merely an empathic one. In Cameron's judgment the woman had a tendency to absorb the struggles and pains of those close to her as her own failure. She thrived on personal connections and the knowledge that she was of use to all around he that so desired her assistance, drew on her for strength.

How manly times in his youth had Cameron charged head-first into nearly impossible odds, confident that his existence would not be stamped out because he viewed himself as necessary, justified in actions? At least one of those instances had killed him, but it wasn't a matter he tended to discuss with...anyone. The Sith Lord was strong in many ways. Emotional support was not typically one of those ways.

Searching the Aesir's eyes, the large Sith allowed the tenderness of her touch, the look in her eyes, and the soft tone of her voice to merge with what he'd felt, weakly, through the Force. Allowing his large presence to expand and completely envelope Amorella in a blanket of raw power, he only wished it could be more of a comforting sensation. Unfortunately, she was correct. First and foremost he was a weapon, and he would always feel rugged, imperfect, and intense. The intensity was what won out at the moment, radiating his concern and respect for the woman before him.

The picture had been painted, and Cameon could practically see it in his mind's eye now. When the Sith Lord spoke,his deep voice filled the chambers, warming the walls as it mixed with his Force presence. "Your body's mortality. Yet you were reminded of the immortality your life and presence has within the hearts and minds of others. That is what sustains you beyond any mortal existence; false Goddess or not. We all struggle to walk our respective paths at times. The strength of your life, your existence is that even your enemies cannot overcome the strength that you give to others. Others that will move mountains in your name."

What followed Cameron's statements...he couldn't say he even fully understood. The desire, yes. Why he'd chosen the particular moment in time to act upon it was not so clear. Slowly, gently Cameron leaned in to softly kiss Amorella's tender lips. However, he withdrew no more than what seemed to be fleeting seconds later. Lowering the hand that held her face, Cameron held the woman's gaze. "Apologies. That was presumptuous."

[member="Amorella Mae"]

 

[Ereza]

Amorella watched the man until she could no longer bare to look upon him, and shut her eyes against his expression of concern. In those moments where the magnitude of his power enveloped her metaphysical being, she ceased to be anything more than exactly what she was - just a girl. The facade she had spent years building under her mother's guidance, the barricade against the tumult of emotions she'd felt; it all crumbled in those seconds with the man's rumbling voice echoing in her ears. Amore felt her sadness expand from deep within her chest, felt it surge upwards around her heart where it pooled, it trembled, and evolved into the fear she had forcefully swallowed when staring down Mikhail Shorn in her hall, when facing the Supreme Vong Overlord and his terrifyingly powerful allies at Silken.

Her lips parted, and with her heart pounding painfully behind her teeth she took a long, sharp, rassp breath. With every frantic pulse of blood in her veins she felt the ache of her heart return double. Everything from the past month that had seemed like some far off dream instantly became very real.

She'd died.

Mikhail Shorn had killed her.

He'd taken her heart and crushed it with the Force, using his anger and his hatred and his pain to fuel his need to destroy.

To this day the pain still lingered - the damage could not be undone, not even by the most skilled Aing-Tii Healers. She feared it was getting worse, instead of better. Feared it was awakening the dormant vestiges of Darkside Sickness still found within her being.

She feared she wasn't strong enough to overcome it.

She feared the disappointment of her mother and father.

The disappearance of her brother, too, weighed heavily on her mind and heart.

The worry of a Horde attack on her people was not far behind. Already so many had died at their hands.

And now Soliael wasn't speaking to her. Her Uncle's vitality was under question.

How was she going to salvage all this? How could she possibly muster the courage, the strength to keep everything together?

She'd already died once, and so easily at that.

Cameron's words echoed dully through her mind, hearing them as one might hear music in the background of venue.

"Cameron, I don't think I can do this anymore. I -" and then he kissed her, forcing large hot tears from the corners of her eyes and down her cheeks. Amore didn't bother to wipe them away, but turned a gaze of blisteringly light blue up to the dark man as he pulled away and apologized. A new surge of emotions errupted in her expression now: confusion, bewilderment mingled with the visible lines of anxiety and pain. One of those painful heartbeats skipped into a hurried flutter.

She frowned, words failing her, and stared at the man with an overwhelming amount of uncertainty.

It wasn't her first kiss by any means, but for certain it was the first kiss that had meant something, had deeply resonated within her, had left her floundering for a reaction. Amore searched his expression for a hint of anything to refute her growing want for closeness. With the words of mistrust firmly etched in her mind, she was left to wonder...

Was this ok?

She felt so broken, so weak and afraid, yet at the same time was trying her utmost to hold herself together. Was it wrong to want the help of someone stronger in a time of weakness? Was it better to forge ahead without? Would he respect her less for wanting that comfort? For giving in to simple emotional, dare she say carnal desires? Amore was so confused.

"Was it?" she asked, brows knit upwards, turmoil brimming just within the glassy surface of her eyes, "I don't know ... it doesn't have to be."

[member="Cameron Centurion"]

 

[Cameron Centurion]

Cameron's silver-green gaze almost seemed...incapable of conveying the concern and warmth he felt towards Amore. This was certainly not a new reality. Perhaps his eyes had simply hardened over the centuries from the many things it had seen sentients do, things it had seen Cameron's own hands do. In a galaxy were so many clung to various faiths and beliefs for strength, the Sith Lord continued to draw only on what he could offer himself. Yes, he supported Moross and its ideals, and he even put on a great show. Beneath the surface, however, he knew that life was only what one permitted it to be.

However, neither the Sith Lord's scars or chilling gaze seemed to do anything to quell the warmth and concern he felt in the pit of whatever soul he still had. His hesitation...his consideration of Amore's feelings was indicative enough that she had affected him deeply. Part of Cameron was angry, angry that he'd permitted himself to fall prey to such a pathetic emotion as love.

Was it love? That was a terrible description. Cameron felt no compelling need to shower Amore in rainbows and sunshine. Quite simply, her soul and presence filled his whenever she was near, and he could feel the loss when they were apart. Perhaps that made it, somehow, more mechanical. She was rapidly becoming a part of him. Despite the carnal desire that raged beneath the surface of his otherwise calm veneer, it wasn't even about that.

Exhaling heavily, the Sith Lord managed a shallow nod of his head. "No. It does not have to be, but it is all the same." Cameron could plainly see that Amore was unsure, and he knew it was at least partially his fault. The woman, no matter how talented, was young. She'd yet to experience so much of her life, and she no doubt still had the potential to live in some measure of happiness. Cameron could only offer, only promise more of what he already was in most situations. The embodiment of a cold intensity that often did little more than was absolutely necessary and said even less. However, when he did take to action or speech, it was generally decisive in nature. He seemed almost incapable of conveying the warmth he held for Amore in his being on an even semi-routine basis.

"You are hurting, and I am here for you. Always. However, in this situation it would be unfair of me to take advantage. Rest this night and see what desire the dawn brings." Managing a soft smile, Cameron gently pressed the palm of his left hand to Amorella's chest. His intent was not to bring discomfort, and the touch was light. Feeling beneath the protective surface of her rib cage through the Force, he sensed her weakned heart. In several painful moments the Sith Lord gave the only gift he could. The scarring of Amore's heart would take a great deal of time and energy to fully heal. Cameron could, however, grant added strength to the organ through the use of his limited command over the healing aspects of Sith Sorcery. It would not be permanent...in fact it would probably only last twenty-four hours.

Many secrets hidden in the deep recesses of the dark side and, more specifically, the training of the Sith. There was a reason he tended to avoid well-practiced Sorcerers when possible. The power they possessed, unknown to many, was...daunting. As he removed his hand from Amore's chest, Cameron placed a soft kiss upon her cheek. Pushing himself to his feet, he gazed down at [member="Amorella Mae"] as his cloak floated off the ground and onto his body. "The pain will return. For that I am sorry."

Cameron had caused a person he cared about pain...to bring them relief, only to promise the pain would return. Even in his moments of attempted tenderness, he was brutal. Nature of his life. His existence.

 

[Ereza]

More turmoil, more pain, more hopeless emotional wanderings. Amore welcomed the warmth of his touch, even if it brought about a quaking of his powers that rattled the woman to her core. It was so difficult to remember that she was often surrounded by people more deserving of the title Aesir than herself - especially when they, for the most part, had conducted themselves in such a manner as to seem more or less like normal people.

This was the story of her life, and she suddenly felt as though she'd skipped several chapters.

The pain ebbed away, and so too did Cameron's presence. She frowned at this, but did not watch after him. The woman raised a hand to her chest where his own had been moments before and pressed the flat of her palm there, eyes shut against the dulled emotional throbbing inside.

"I know," her reply was barely audible, strained even from the internal tumult, "thank you."

Soon, as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone from her again, and Amore was left wondering if it wasn't for the better. To not be dependant upon the presence of another for strength or courage. Her mother never had been, but how...

...how could she stand it?

[member="Cameron Centurion"]

 

[Cameron Centurion]

Two Days Later

Unfortunately, Cameron had been occupied with other business, Aatrox's business the following day. The awkward reality of his life was that it was becoming easier and easier to maintain the facade of a loyal, faithful follower of the Way of Moross. Sure, Cameron had believed it what it was they attempted to accomplish since the beginning, but it was different now. He, of course, knew it was all a sham...another trapping of granting power to those that desired it. His enjoyment of the shame, of the facade was what it granted him in the long run.

Emerging from the underground chambers that the Sith Lord more or less supervised with impunity from any other elements of Moross, Cameron wiped blood from his hands with a fresh towel before passing it off to a fellow follower of Aatrox. Having shifted slowly from being an enigma amongst the followers of Aatrox, to a faithful, reserved Priest, to an unyielding Crusader for the Will of Aatrox, Cameron's rise through the proverbial ranks of their particular sect of Moross had been punctuated with specific acts. The Sith Lord made no grand gestures of authority, and he rarely demanded anything of anyone. He did, however, make requests rather frequently. Those that turned him down had a tendency to suffer for it in the past. Heralding the vast majority of these actions as the "Will" of Aatrox, there were some that had taken to regarding him as a Prophet for the God. Ridiculous...but useful.

Ascending the large marble steps back to the main floor of the Temple, Cameron pulled the hood of his cloak over his eyes. In the depths of darkness and shadow that existend unknown to many while others did their best not to know, Cameron was indeed a vioelnt Crusader that would stop at nothing to get what he desired. In the warming light of the Moross afternoon, he was but a follower and a silent servant of the Aesir Inari.

Having heard that the woman still maintained her normal duties to the people of Moross despite her condition, Cameron made his way to her worship hall. It was tranquil as always and those bearing her colors remained polite as ever - regarding him with friendship even though he wore the colors of a God that was unwelcome in almost every other hall. Silver-green eyes swept over those silently praying to the Goddess before falling, breifly, on [member="Amorella Mae"] herself. As always, he made his way to a back corner and stood perfectly still...waiting for Amorella to take her usual break.

Thoughts of the last time they'd spent together drifted through his mind as they had been doing for the last thirty-six hours. A large, very large part of him was angry for having not seized the opportunity to take that which he desired. A not so large part of him was content in the fact he'd done what was best for Amorella. The fact that the smaller part had won out in the end was, truthfully, disturbing but only because he'd only permitted himself to be a certain way for so long. Amorella was, quite literally, shattering the very fabric of the harsh world he'd created around himself for centuries. Centuries.

If love had a definition...

 

[Ereza]

The Reviver sat weary on the raised dais of her shrine, watching her people come and go from her presence. It had been a long two days and Inari had been rather distracted. While not unusual for the Aesir to be moderately reticent during her time spent in the great hall, she had taken to meditating throughout the duration.

Her thoughts dwelled on the past year and all the events that altered the course of her life. As she remembered her beginnings on Kuat and her wonderment at the great wide metropolis that was her home, things began to fall strangely into perspective. She remembered her fears of coming into the throne, her anxiety of leading her people astray. And those uncomfortable moments in the High Council Chamber during meetings?

Inari recalled the diplomatic session between Moross and the Fringe - a room full of Force Masters, wildcards of the unknown regions. Suddenly the High Council of Kuat seemed tame - kittens in a playbox.

And what of the machinations of the KDY? The never-ending list of orders pouring in by the freighter-full, daily. The beehive-like atmosphere, constantly humming with the efforts of its employ. Chaos carefully controlled all by the strong, level-headed CEO and Queen who was unflappable in ways she could not even imagine. It could not be vastly unlike her efforts here on Exocron - a duty she fulfilled with a measure of pride and patience.

How far she had come.

Cameron arrived, his presence immediately pulling the Aesir from her internal ruminations. Glassy, pale blue eyes opened to seek out his form, finding it just where she knew to look for him. Inari refrained from smiling, though she felt the expression within, filling her gaze. The Reviver's heart began to flutter.

There there was this thing called ... love. A concept, a tangent, an emotional structure with which she had such little experience. At least what it was in this strangely intense, unexpected incarnation.

She still had so far to go.

"Priest Larue," the Reviver spoke, gaze breaking from the shadow in the corner to seek out the other dark-skinned man of her life, the ever faithful Emri Larue, "I take my leave now. A new ship of pilgrims has arrived, be sure it is taken care of - they have had a long and trying journey."

Larue deferred to her, "Of course, Bright One, I will see to them personally." The time to question her knowledge had long since passed. The Priest righted himself and stepped down the center aisle of the cathedral, a group of young Acolytes in tow.

Inari watched him leave before rising to a stand, her grace marred by a stiffness of pain, and descended the steps of her dais. White Guard falling in step with her, she made way for the hall entrance and the shadow standing nearby.

[member="Cameron Centurion"]

 

[Cameron Centurion]

From beneath the veil of darkness provided by his dark blue and gray hood, Cameron's silver-green gaze held [member="Amorella Mae"]'s pale blue for as long as she dared to stare. Warmth had begun circulating through his body the moment he stepped into her presence, but her gaze forced it to expand outward, fighting against the normally cold, ruthless nature of his presence. The result was...well it had never happened before. For the briefest of moments, the ground beneath the Sith Lord's very feet seemed to pulse with the influx of energy. Unnaturally and briefly, the light in the room intensified as Amorella stepped off the dais.

The closer her presence drew to his own, the faster his heart began to beat. The volume increased so much, Cameron was sure the entire chamber could hear it. Inhaling deeply, Cameron closed his eyes and forced the inner struggle to settle and recede. When he'd opened his eyes once more, Amorella and her White Guard were nearly at the threshold of the exit. In deference, he bowed his head slightly to the Aesir. Though he was sure Amorella was still feeling pain, he could admire her strength to endure.

Her emotional turmoil, however... She'd not have to live with that for very much longer.

 

[Ereza]

"You've been busy," Amorella said some time later. They were back in her private home above the hall after a short tour through the newly arrived Pilgrims. The Reviver had stood to greet them on the balcony above the main Temple entrance, bathing their weary, travel-worn forms with a sense of relief, warmth, welcoming. She needn't say a word or engage them personally, her presence had been enough - heralded by the reassuring words of her Priests and Healers.

Now, however, after an entire day, Inari was quite exhausted. The recovery was making her job very taxing...or her job was making the recovery very taxing, she wasn't sure which.

Amore pulled the Aesir's robes from her shoulders and quietly moved to place them on the dress-form in the corner. Her movements were slow as she adjusted it and smoothed the wrinkles, glancing askance at Cameron, curious of the man, "What have you been doing in the dungeons of the Temple?"

[member="Cameron Centurion"]

 

[Cameron Centurion]

Cameron was silent for the entire journey back to Inari's private chambers. At her request, he entered. The Guards, though new, seemed to be growing accustomed to his presence in the more personal areas of the Temple. The Sith Lord supposed it had more to do with the Aesir's obvious desire to have his private council than anything else.

As [member="Amorella Mae"] made herself comfortable, Cameron merely watched. He could see and feel the flex of every muscle and tendon in her body as she executed even the most mundane of tasks. For a moment, his attention threatened to be drawn in yet again...allowing him to forget his surroundings. However, the small redhead shattered that possibility with a most unusual queston. Following a brief pause, he offered her a candid response. "Managing the affairs of Aatrox."

Another pause.

"Information does not come easily. It must occasionally be extracted. Never fear, the servants of Aatrox are constantly on alert...doing that which is necessary to ensure the continued survival of Moross and her followers." This was a Crusade after all, and Crusades were bloody affairs.

 

[Ereza]

A weary smile and gentle nod was her response. The man didn't need to elaborate - Amore could imagine, or perhaps she couldn't fully but at least journey a guess at what it was he did behind those dark, closed doors.

She turned her gaze back to the robes on the form and considered them in a long pause of silence before lifting a hand and slowly removing the silver mask from her face. She reached up and clipped it in place, feeling an immense weight of responsibility lift when she recalled her fingers, hands curling at her chest, eyes closing at the persistent dull, throbbing pain within. Inari could continue her vigil of the people - a God's strength was everlasting, but Amorella couldn't.

Soon it would be time for her to return to Aing-Tii for an extended stay. Would war on the horizon allow it?

Turning from the clothing form, Amore allowed her gaze to settle on the man, a light smile appearing over a slow release of breath. His mere presence gave her strength, something she still fret over but was simply too tired to worry about it now.

"I am sorry," she began, "I don't think I'll be cooking anything tonight," Her smile broadened in a fleeting display of humor, "Would you like to accompany me out?"

[member="Cameron Centurion"]

 

[Cameron Centurion]

Cameron continued to watch Amorella in silence. He did what he could to ignore the obvious pain she was feeling. Just as he was about to make a suggestion, she made a comment that was...nearly as good. In fact, it was perhaps much more proper than his own idea and...internal thoughts. Smiling softly at [member="Amorella Mae"]'s humor, the large Sith Lord posed his own inquiry. "Are you asking me out on a date, Disciple Mae?"

The Aatrox follower took several steps forward, closing the distance between them as he cupped his right hand against the side of her face and gently brushed her cheek with his thumb. "I would like that. Very much."

 

[Ereza]

Without that mask there to hide it, Cameron would see those cheeks flush quite easily, especially with her skin having paled so much in her weakened state. Amore's smile broadened and a small laugh escaped her, "My delivery could have been better planned, I admit. I don't think I've ever asked a man on a date before."

The Princess of Kuat never had a need to, not with so many suitors showing up at her door.

"Never fear," she offered, lifting her left hand to clasp lightly at the one he held her face with, "I'll have you home before bedtime."

 

[Cameron Centurion]

Cameron had to laugh at [member="Amorella Mae"]'s claim. For several moments, he thought back to the first time he'd met her on Kuat during her sixteenth birthday party. Times had been inexplicably different back then. For a brief moment, the Sith Lord reminisced on how much of his life he'd spent...among the female members of this family. It was almost awkward. Almost. "Well then. I guess we all have to start somewhere." The Sith Lord offered the Aesir a suggestive smirk.

The expression only broadened as Amorella touched s hand and informed him she would have him home by bed time. "Bed time..." A soft laugh escaped his lips as he slowly dropped his hand. "Don't be expecting to take any liberties either. I'm a gentleman." Hah. No. No he wasn't. She, on the other hand, most certainly was a lady.

Or so he presumed. Truth be told her mother's own lady-like persona melted into that of a much more...seductive individual when she so chose to pursue such pleasures. Cameron supposed his polite changing of the subject back to the woman's daughter had no doubt been all the evidence the Queen of Kuat needed.

 

[Ereza]

A wane smile planted itself firmly on her face, "If you are not, then you certainly have me fooled," Amore chuckled then and reached down to a comm device in her pocket. After a few moments she put it away and moved to a nearby wardrobe where she pulled out a form-fitting black robe and shrugged into it. The high collar sat just below her jawline with the large hood drawn back over her shoulders. It wasn't something she wore often, but it had been a gift from her brother. He'd called it The Subtle Cloak and told her to wear it when she wanted to avoid undue attention from any and all who might seek her out.

Cameron would notice an instantaneous buffering of her Force Signature. It didn't disappear entirely, but it quieted it to the extent that he'd likely walk right by her in a crowd. If she'd drawn the hood, even one as keen as he would have a hard time picking her out from a group of faces. Such was the Master sorcery placed upon the garment, of course, out of all the hundreds of Sith Lords in the galaxy, Cameron was more skilled than most at detecting the undetectable. He might even catch the glimmer of Hssiss scales lining the inside.

Amore had to wonder at it after first receiving the gift. If it was something used by her brother and, presumably, her mother as well, was there some form of other unnatural properties that allowed it to fit as well as it did.

The woman pulled her hair from the collar and twisted it off to one side, completely oblivious to how closely she resembled her darkside mother. Glancing to Cameron where he stood waiting, she stepped out onto the veranda and glanced to the skies. Her private ship was on its way.

"Cameron," she began quietly after coming to a stop at the white marble railing, "if you were not here with us as part of the Crusade, where do you suppose you would be?"

 

[Cameron Centurion]

As per usual, silver-green eyes tracked each and every aspect of [member="Amorella Mae"]'s movement. Even as he watched Amorella wrap herself into a cloak that seemed determined to hug every curve of her body and drive her temptation factor even closer to the roof, he maintained a tranquil awareness about his being. Having practiced averting his attentions from Amorella's enticing features so often in the past, it was nearly second-nature for the Sith Lord to busy himself with evaluating the garment she wore. Initially, his interest was completely superficial, but then he felt something. It was as if the cloak itself was alive, humming softly with power. The whispers of a particular sect of Kissai reverberated through Cameron's ears as he recalled a particularly...uncomfortable time in his life.

When Amorella's pale blue eyes looked up to hold his gaze once more, his distracted thoughts and their associated memories evaporated. His initial reaction was not that she resembled her mother...mostly because that was a thought he had of her on more than just the occasional encounter. No, the thoughts that drifted through the Sith Lord's mind were definitively more...intriguing. Surely he looked very much the part of a predator sizing up its prey that it had just stalked to an isolated location. The muscles in Cameron's body twitched ever so slightly, begging to be released, to do that which his brain was telling him was his most immediate desire and that precise point in time.

This was Cameron Centurion all day, everyday. The emotions and passions that coursed through his body were intense, bordering on overpowering. His emotions could be released in a destructive, nearly apocalyptic manner, or they could be so tender that, were they words, they would be lost to even the most gentle of breezes. More often than not, however, they radiated just beneath the surface of his skin, flowing through his body with the viscosity of his blood and strength of the Force. Gently, Cameron grasped the white marble railing they stood beside but instinctively gave it a brief, powerful squeeze that nearly cracked the surface. Allowing his eyes to find Amorella's once more, he managed a soft smile. "Out there," was his immediate response as he motioned with a shallow motion of his head. "I would be amongst the stars...still trying to find something that might bring actual meaning to my life." Cameron had lead Empires, he'd destroyed them. He'd killed Jedi, Sith, children - infants included. He'd fathered his own children, and he had visited more worlds than he could possibly count.

The Sith Lord's life was filled with pursuits, accomplishments, victories, and defeats. In the end of the day, it meant rather little to him. Most of his children had been, well, failures. His daughter, Cosette, showed promise, but he couldn't even be sure where she was anymore. Perhaps he didn't much care. He had, after all, been absent for the first seventeen years of her life. Hell...he'd not even known she existed. Her mother, a woman he'd cared for deeply at one time was too...lost in her own way for him to maintain a serious attraction. Now though... Shifting his gaze back to Amorella, Cameron's smile had all but dissipated. "It just so happens I found that here." The Sith Lord had little reason to rehash past conversations. Amorella knew precisely what he was referring to.

Like every disgustingly sweet story of life...it was all about a girl. Alia Ravyns in his past. Amorella Mae in his present and forseeable future. Hundreds of years just to correct a critical, tragic mistake, and he couldn't be more pleased.

 

[Ereza]

A curious smile filtered over her features, flattening somewhat as she thought on this.

"That's very kind of you to say," but hadn't her mother warned against the deceptive nature of the Sith? There was hesitation present, but after a moment she moved towards him and slowly reached out to his nearest arm, gently wrapping her own around it. With a glance up, she leaned her head against his shoulder and allowed the overwhelming fatigue of the day wash over her.

In his presence, it wasn't so bad, warning of her mother be damned. She wasn't going to accomplish anything without taking a risk here or there. Her smile faded, she gave his arm a squeeze. In the distance her ship was on its approach.

[member="Cameron Centurion"]