Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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A Requiem?

Cameron smiled softly at [member="Amorella Mae"] as she wrapped herself around his arm. Once she'd rested her head against his shoulder, the Sith Lord gently brushed a loose strand of hair out of her pale blue eyes which seemed to reflect the moonlight ever so slightly. The darkness surrounding them played off of his naturally dark skin, masking some of the tattoos adorning his upper body. It was in stark contrast to his silver-green eyes that seemed to brighten the otherwise shadowed areas of his face.

For the brief moment of respite there was just them in the galaxy. Cameron, actually, had doubts. In fact most of concerns were about his ability to do...this. Had he spent too much of his life pretending to be serious with anyone. All he could do was make the effort. "It's merely the truth Amorella. Merely the truth." Seconds passed before he enveloped Amorella's entire body in his grasp.
 
They might've dined elsewhere on Exocron, but for an Aesir to escape the knowledge of the people it would have proven impossible there. Instead her ship took them away from the Crusade Capital, out into the blackness of space and into the territory of the Omega Protectorate. Amorella enjoyed some liberties here, though not by any means of being a leader of Moross. Here, she was the daughter of Kuatian Queen and KDY CEO Lorelei Darke, Heiress to the Throne. It was through the Queen's partnership with CEC CEO and Lord Protector Ayden Cater that this was made possible.

Of course, it wasn't so much royal treatment, as it was treatment without trouble. The ship's pilot provided passage codes given to him by the Kuati Queen, and off they went to Kal'Shebbol and a restaurant tucked away within one of its bustling cities. At this hour, late even for this hemisphere of Kal'Shebbol, the venue was quiet by the time they arrived. A few parties remain scattered throughout, but the corner they were seated in was otherwise vacant. When asked for drinks, Amore produced a small bottle of dark, viscous liquid labeled in scrawling handwritten letters of some foreign language, and deferred to Cameron for his order.

The woman poured herself a glass and seemed, then, to settle into a curious sense of comfort.

There were no guards, no Priests, no Crusaders, no Acolytes, no Pilgrims. No one to call her Aesir, no one to bow and grovel, no one to hear prayers from. It was just her. Just her and, curiously enough, Cameron - a man she never, in all her years, would have dared thought to be sharing this time with. The strangeness of it all still baffled her, and it was likely still clear in her expression as she watched the man. Amore expected any moment to wake on her veranda from delusions within her meditation.

Even still, sometimes she expected to wake within her room on Kuat, roused from a stupor of too much party and too much Blodwyne, her mother looking on with distaste.

Somewhere there was a very important board meeting that she was missing, her mother would be furious.

Amorella sipped the Blodwyne, it's effects rather immediate, and its taste still as awful as she remembered. Not so awful as the consequences of not drinking it.

"Forgive me if this is rude of me to ask," she spoke suddenly, but quietly, "but I've been wondering for some time now. You see, I do not yet know the complete extent of my mother's history - a fraction of it I'm sure, she's so scant on any details and it's so difficult to judge based on what little she's told me but..." Amore paused, a flash of sheepishness crossing her features, "how long-lived are you, exactly?"
 
Cameron was happy for the change in venue though his attired remained mostly the same. Fortunately, very few would recognize the colors of Aatrox outside of a world owing allegiance to the Crusade and its people. His fashion sense was ordinarily...much better than a pair of black pants and a cloak partially covering an exposed upper torso. At least, it was when he traveled to other areas of the galaxy as someone other than a devout follower of Aatrox. The days of him purporting to be Cameron Centurion the businessman were generally limited to official meetings where some preferred...something more discreet. The Sith Lord would routinely argue that his general appearance was anything other than discreet, however.

As the pair longued comfortably in a secluded corner of the establishment, Cameron remained much as he always was. Outwardly, he appeared quite relaxed, but his senses drifted over the establishment like a predator stalking its territory. Silver-green eyes remained rather intently focused on [member="Amorella Mae"]. Was he studying her? Admiring her? Perhaps he was attempting to discern the particular odor of her rather distinct beverage.

After ordering himself a glass of Whyren's Reserve, a guilty pleasure, the Sith Lord focused his attentions back on Amore. If he did not know her, he would say she looked quite a bit like a predator herself. Draped in black fabric that contrasted with her vibrant hair and eyes, the shadows played off her soft features. Combined with the pungent odor emanating from her drink, she appeared...well...like her mother. When Cameron thought about how they must have looked as a pair, he could not help but laugh briefly and randomly. An elegant, mysterious beauty with the large, dark companion with eyes that radiated the danger they had experienced and caused.

Interesting couple...indeed. Particularly if one actually knew what Amorella was. They were both inexplicapably different and, perhaps, tragically similar. Tragic for the rest of the galaxy, at least.

Amorella's question pulled Cameron out of his internal preoccupation. Flashing a roguish smile, he dipped his head slightly as his beverage was delivered to him. Wrapping his large hand around the crystalline glass, he brought it to his lips and took a brief sip before placing it back on the soft fabric covering the table. "My age... I've been drifting amongst this galaxy in one form or another nearly six centuries now. I believe...perhaps a couple decades younger than your own mother."

The Sith Lord's smile turned almost suggestive for the briefest of moments. "Imagine all the things I've learned."
 
Amorella did her best not to let her chin drop at the answer.

Six... six hundred years? False-Gods be damned and Force forsworn, the hell was she getting herself into? Truth be told, she had no idea what to expect from him. Perhaps somewhere deep down she'd hoped he wasn't nearly as old as she believed her mother to be, and for several moments she thought the man was joking. A wane half-smirk struggled on her lips as she watched him, but there were no hints to suggest the reply was a farce. Not so far as she could tell, and she weren't no Quietus.

"Well," the young woman splayed her fingers, nonplussed, and gave a chuckle, "and here I was thinking a well-preserved forty-three, fifty-seven tops."

She studied her glass of Blodwyne, brows raising at these new details of her family history she'd not yet been privy to, "my mother told me she was in her seventies. Mm, apparently her 600th anniversary of her 70th birthday. You know I always suspected something like that. Desdemona was never forthcoming with her own age either, but she at least hinted it was much more than I thought," Amore released a long, level sigh, "I suppose I just wasn't worthy of the knowledge yet."
 
Cameron watched [member="Amorella Mae"] as she reacted to the information he had just given her. To be honest, he was surprised that she hadn't known more about her family's longevity. Oh well, it wasn't of critical importance, not really. Once Amorella had gone silent, Cameron merely smiled. "You'll understand all too well soon enough. The longevity in your family is much more...genetic. I..." Cameron indicated himself briefly. "...am not much of a hybrid of anything. Just your run-of-the-mill human."

Pausing, Cameron leaned in slightly as he conveyed a part of him that he didn't tend to openly share with much of anyone. "This is not the first body that I have inhabited, Amorella. I died...a very long time ago before I really had access to any cloning technologies. I was an avid student of Sith Sorcery then...which is the only reason I retain any amount of knowledge now. I manipulated the secrets of the Sith to transfer my entire essence into another body. This body."

Waving a dismissive hand, Cameron leaned back slightly in his seat. "I'm maintained largely from siphoning the life force of others at infrequent intervals. Eventually, however, a complete transfer is once again required. These days, however, I have private cloning facilities setup at my residence on Corstris. The dark side, very realistically sustains me. It is as much a part of me as...anything." Motioning to his silver-green orbs, Cameron concluded his thoughts. "Gifts from an ancestor, occurring shortly after the completion of my Acolyte training."
 
Amore's gaze landed quite heavily on the man seated across from her. She watched him in silence, thinking nothing much for the moment, but merely taking in his words with a strong desire to remember everything, exactly as it was, in that moment that he decided was the right time to admit that he, too, had also died before.

Those words resonated with her ailing spirit to a degree that would have made an Opera Singer tremble.

She wanted to say something meaningful, because in her mind this wasn't something he told many people. Seemed only right to reply with something gracious and deep. Yet nothing came to mind, the words of her diplomatic self fell short of her lips. Amore settled for a moment of silent introspection, listening while he continued with his method of sustainability. It was not so unlike her own in this hour. Secretly the Aesir had been filtering life energy from her people during mass, using their vitality to repair her broken self. It was turning out to be a much lengthier process than she suspected, though Sol might've told her she wasn't taking enough. She was their God, after all. It was her right to claim their liveliness and it was their prerogative to give it to her should she so desire.

She supposed she wasn't as good at being a God as she thought.

"Is this what your original self looked like?" the question didn't feel ... substantial enough, but her experiences taught her that curiosities and interest were rarely turned down. The good majority of people liked to feel interesting.

[member="Cameron Centurion"]
 
The silence between the two lingered just long enough for the Sith Lord to finish his chosen beverage. When Amorella spoke, her question elicited a thin smile of amusement from the dark-skinned Sith. "Similar, I suppose. I was two or three inches shorter. I had the same relative build and deep brown eyes. Same skin tone as well."

Gradually, Cameron's smile took on a suggestion of a very active underlying...mischief. Standing from his seat, the Sith Lord grasped the back of his chair and relocated it to Amore's side of the table. Given the relative seclusion of their table and the unnaturally silent grace with which he moved his large frame, Cameron drew no added attention.

As he took a seat close enough to [member="Amorella Mae"] to smell the sweetness of her hair mixed with the mild pungent nature of her drink, the follower of Aatrox leaned over to whisper into her ear. "I'd explain the very depth of the differences, but it would require much more privacy to properly display."
 
What's he doing...

Amorella followed the man's movements, blinking, curiously wondering at his cat-like fluidity. How quietly he moved for a man of his size.

Is he ... oh...

Her muscles reflexively tensed as he leaned in, Amore felt her heart skip into a mildly painful third gear. Strange how the presence of a table between herself and him had made things significantly easier to deal with. She gently cleared her throat and sipped at the Blodwyne, the ache in her chest dulling after a moment.

...my...

"Have we skipped straight to date three?" she offered with a wane smirk and a lofted brow. His scent reminded her of nights spent watching Merovign and Desdemona spar with lightsabers in the courtyard, years before she would ever discover that she would never wish to wield one herself. It was an aroma of intrigue, of power, of danger and the arcane.
 
Cameron smiled thinly at [member="Amorella Mae"]'s suggestion. "Skip? If we count our recent past private rendezvous, I'd say we're well on out way to double digits." In fact even if only the ones since his confession were counted, those with no real professional purpose, they were well past three. "However, the implication of your statement is not my present motivation."

Curious that Cameron had been so apprehensive just a short while few hours ago. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he's divulged a very large secret...the feeling of drawing even closer to Amorella in spirit. If that were the case, the gift he had for her would...nearly make them of the same mind. In that moment...all that would remain was the physical connection.

"My words, however, are no less true." The night's revelations and displays of trust had only just begun.
 
Her smirk stretched slightly. She supposed she was a bit clueless to the whole dating thing. As a Kuatian Princess she was not necessarily permitted to 'date' per say. Seeing to suitors was something completely different, but Amore would be lying if she said she hadn't seen to certain men under the radar of her mother's knowledge. He time spent with Gidgeon had been in secret. He hadn't been approved by the Queen, after all, but they'd found time when she stayed at her painting retreat in the mountains, much like any other fling she'd ever entertained and every other unsavory habit she practiced.

Amore had spent most of her teen years under the impression that she would soon be whisked off in an arranged marriage. Her mother had spoken of it at length, drilled it into her mind that it was what was best for Kuat - to choose someone worthy to lead alongside her. She never thought there would ever be a chance to simply fall in love with someone.

The smirk wavered, "I don't understand," she replied in a low voice, looking back up at Cameron. If he wasn't speaking of an explicit nature, then what was he speaking of?
 
Cameron smiled thinly at the young woman. "You will, Amorella, you will." After gently patting the inside of her thigh, Cameron came to his feet once more and returned to his side of the table with his chair. While the proximity to [member="Amorella Mae"] was not exactly a problem, it did toy with his senses. Extended, close exposure would no doubt prompt the Sith Lord to merely seize what he wanted.

The impulse grew more and more difficult to fight off not because he was weak or lacked self-control. He just lacked the will to use it.

Leveling his silver-green gaze upon Amore once more, Cameron maintained an even smirk. "There are things much more intimate than merely the physical joining of two bodies, Amorella." Leaning back in his seat, Cameron's powerful chest heaved with a deep inhale and slow exhale. "You'll see just as soon as we take our leave of this establishment."

The statement was not meant to hurry, merely to engage her intrigue.
 
She startled slightly at the pat on her leg and not because of the location, but simply because she'd not been paying attention to the man's hands. His eyes had always been a curious draw on her attention, as she suspected was the case with most people where his company was concerned. Then, as quickly as he'd joined her side, the man left it. A pattern seemed to be forming here.

Amore watched him, unsmiling, and considered his words. She was not versed in the mystical properties of the Force, at least nothing beyond what few powers she knew now, and so the point he was trying to make fell somewhat short with her. The young woman sipped her drink and tried not to feel too disheartened by this shortcoming. Tried to quell the miniscule sensation of anger at all the knowledge kept from her by her mother ... her entire family. She wanted to be angry that she should learn these things from Cameron of all people, but Amore didn't have it in her. Perhaps they had tried and she'd simply failed to listen. Perhaps her time spent at her retreat would have been better spent at home, practicing with the lightsaber and learning all the things her mother had to teach her.

This ignorance was her own fault and she would not make the same mistake twice.

She took another sip of Blodwyne and considered her faults, then forcefully switched her mind to a new train of thought. Such as what topic of conversation to pick next. Nothing came to mind - her lip twitched over the rim of her glass.

With utterly perfect timing, the Waiter arrived with a tray of tapas and water. He offered to refill Cameron's drink while showing them the evening's dinner menu. Amore looked somewhat longingly at the glass of water placed before her but did not deign to take it up. She held her wine glass with a strong sense of purpose and placed her order for dinner - Chef's Select, rare.

[member="Cameron Centurion"]
 
Cameron's eyes did not leave [member="Amorella Mae"]'s face the entire time between his statement and when the waiter arrived to take their order. However, his gaze did divert to said waiter when placing his own order - a selection of lean meats and vegetables.

Once the waiter had departed, Cameron picked up his refilled drink and took a quiet sip. Placing the glass back down, he posed his own question to Amorella. "I wonder. Have you ever desired to see the galaxy through another person's eyes? To know how the circumstances of life touched their minds and souls?" What Cameron described was, of course, not a very normal undertaking. Too easy to become lost in the thoughts of another were you the foreign presence. Cameron had only ever attempted to do so with one other. He'd regretted the decision near immediately and spent the rest of his life trying to destroy them.

Ironic given his...intentions for the evening.
 
"I..." Amore looked to him, her mouth slowly closing as she thought on this. It came across as an ...odd question to her. She supposed leaving well-enough alone had always been her way, at least up until joining the Crusade. Afterwards things changed. Priorities changed. She changed. Having always been content with the majority of her life, Amore rarely sought after what-ifs or would-I's.

She lowered her glass to her lap and watched it slowly spin in her fingers, the dark liquid barely moving, it's scent lingering beneath her nose. It smelled of skin and alchemy and death.

"Sometimes I wish I could see into my mother's mind. Discover all the secrets she's kept from me, watch her memories, learn about the girl who became the woman she is today," Amore frowned, casting her gaze aside and reaching a hand up to rub at her neck, "there's days where I feel like I don't know her at all. Like I grew up in a home full of strangers. Like I'm just part of some world she only goes to in her dreams and the real her is something intangible to me."

[member="Cameron Centurion"]
 
Despite the serious depth of Amorella's emotions with regards to her mother and family, Cameron pushed forward. Managing to restrain himself from making a dismissive gesture towards the young woman's concerns, the Sith Lord instead smiled thinly. "The desire to be closer to our loved ones is a powerful emotion." Not that Cameron could exactly relate. Everything and everyone he'd ever truly loved had been ripped from him by one entity or another.

"Yet I speak of something more fluid, more...consensual." Cameron didn't mean to imply that few in Amorella's family would ever willingly grant her that access to their minds, their beings, but it was the truth of the matter near as he could tell. Eyeing [member="Amorella Mae"] carefully, Cameron added a comment that...was not really his place to say. "There is something to be said of your mother protecting what remains of your innocence and childhood until the right moment, Amorella. Do not judge her too harshly. Parenting is hardly a science and to master the art is nigh on impossible."
 
This last response didn't seem to settle well with the young woman. Mostly because she knew that her mother had been far more open and honest with her brother, Merovign. In fact Amore suspected he knew the story in its entirety. It was difficult to understand, for while she was being groomed for the throne of Kuat ... what was her brother being groomed for? So much of her family was cause for great confusion, and this wasn't even factoring in the estranged Desdemona.

"Does a False God entertain the notion of childhood?" it wasn't a baited question, or really even one meant to be answered. Amorella was merely expressing the thought that, since her rise to the top of the Crusade, what remained of her childhood had evaporated in the heat of duty and obligation. Yet if it wasn't one throne, surely it would have been another.

Blue eyes flickered to him, barely capable of containing the feeling that she was grasping for something very far from her reach, "So what are you saying," she began, grasping the stem of her wine glass with both hands again, "that you have something you wish to share with me?"
 
Cameron clicked his tongue at [member="Amorella Mae"]'s statement about childhood. It was a gesture he didn't care for actually...but the involuntary response had occurred nonetheless. Clearly...he did not much share her sentiment. "The sum quality of all our life experiences shape who and what we are in the present. Any leader...false or not should make time to consistently keep before them the understanding of from where they came to understand where they must go."

Understanding he was broaching far too deep into the philosophical for a...date, Cameron immediately reverted to responding to Amorella's next statement. "I digress." Flashing the red-haired beauty a warm smile, he lifted his glass to his lips. "I'm saying I have a gift to give someone I yet wish to be closer with." Cameron held no shame or apprehension about this reality despite his more reserved nature in the preceding weeks...months, even.
 
"What, that I was given everything and made exception to none?" the words left Amore's lips with a great deal more force than she meant, and she immediately regretted her tone. Her heart gave a jilted flutter, a sudden sting. She frowned over a soft grunt, and kneaded at the fabric over her chest. She tried to listen to him, but the pain was quite distracting.

"I'm sorry, Cameron, that's not ... I didn't mean... I-" she swallowed. Had this been a bad idea? She should have waited until she'd recovered more.

"I just ...need a moment," Amore slipped from her seat and was off to the ladies room with a stride that was hurried but obviously kept in check for appearances sake.
 
Canon possessed the ability to feel for the mental or physical strife of others to a...point. [member="Amorella Mae"] had stretched that limit to the very breaking point, but he was certainly approaching the point of no return. The point where he would give her every ounce of a view he'd cultivated long ago when Alathor had ripped him from everything he ever knew and then burned what remained to ash. That was a wound, something to be felt. However, he quickly learned that his pain and irritation would do him no good if not harnessed. There were those that learned to overcome it, to somehow convert it into positive energy for the future. Then there was Cameron, using it to fuel a rage that never ceased to burn deep within the core of his being. Longevity had taught him the restraint and control necessary to appear...forever balanced. The reality of his existence was far darker.

However, Amorella quickly excused herself from the table. Feeling a familiar tide ebb within his soul, the Sith Lord merely offered a subtle nod as she departed. The moment she was out of sight, he drained the contents of his drink, ordered another, and drained it as well. It was amazing to him that Amorella managed to maintain any affinity to the...lighter side of the Force. Her heritage and general inclination towards emotional responses suggested the apple actually hadn't fallen very far from the tree after all.
 
In the ladies room Amorella turned the sink on and stood before the faucet with her chest heaving and heart hammering painfully beneath her ribs. The grimace in her expression was ugly, and as she kneaded at the skin above her heart, trying to will the pain away, Amore took notice of her reflection in the mirror. What she saw gave her pause.

She wasn't a vain creature - there weren't many mirrors in her flat and the ones she had she rarely used. So this sallow, pallid face that looked back at her, eyes mildly sunken and cheeks pulled taught, took her by slight surprise. Is this what death had made of her? Was this the face of enduring pain? Amore touched at chin with a frown then looked to her hands - frail and thin. How had she become so gaunt and not taken notice?

"..Oh..." the utterance was one of sickness.

A woman exited a stall from behind her and moved to the mirror on her right. She was healthy and vibrant, her eyes glinting with vitality. She smelled sweet, like a garden in bloom, and for a moment Amore felt drawn towards her. Inexplicably she lifted her right hand and-

"Hello," the woman blinked at her in the mirror, "oh ... dear ... are you alright?"

An horrible image flashed through Amore's mind but she managed to blink it away, "Yes," she replied, though her answer was anything but certain, "I just ... haven't been out since ..."

The woman seemed to take a silent, intuitive cue. As though somehow, despite never having met one another before, there was this inescapable quality within the female mind to understand and see a need for strength and reassurance, "You look great," she nodded, "just need a fresh powder. Here, you can use mine."

It was moments like these - tiny moments in a nondescript ladies room on a planet removed from her life - that gave her the will to continue pressing on. If a single act of a single person could give her that sort of hope, imagine what she could do for the hundreds of thousands of others simply by putting her robes and mask back on tomorrow.

Amore returned to the table in a quiet, contemplative state, slipping silently back into her seat. Their food had arrived while she was gone. Amore stared at the plate a moment.

"I just met ... a very kind woman in the bathroom," she carefully picked up a fork and steak knife and began slicing her meal, "she didn't recognize me at all. It was ... nice."

[member="Cameron Centurion"]
 

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